Ballroom
“Miss Bennet, I must apologise.”
“I cannot imagine what for.”
“I feel I have forced you to do my job. Miss Darcy was not equal to the surprise of your arrival, nor was I, but that is a weak excuse. It should not fall to a visitor to assume household cares. I ought to have done better upon your arrival.”
“I see,” Elizabeth said. “And how long have you been companion to Miss Darcy?”
“Six months. Her last companion was unbelievably bad, so Mr Darcy sought someone he could trust to aid her recovery, rather than to teach the duties of a mistress.”
Elizabeth stared. Which fact was the more shocking—that Mrs Annesley confided in her, or that Mr Darcy had hired a poor companion? Then again, why be shocked at any hint of incompetence? But she could not dwell on that.
“I see why you are embarrassed. In a whole six months, you did not manage to teach a girl of sixteen how to improve in five minutes what took me, a lady five years her senior with considerably more experience, two hours to work out. Yes, it is obvious why you are chagrined.”
Mrs Annesley chuckled, much to Elizabeth’s delight. “You have an impertinent streak. I hope I am not being too bold when I tell you it reminds me very much of Mr Darcy.”
“Mr Darcy? You mean the master of this estate? Tall, very handsome—are you certain?”
“Only when he is among those he knows best. When it is just his sister and the colonel, talk like that could go on all night, even before the brandy comes out.”
Elizabeth laughed softly and decided she liked Mrs Annesley very much.
“So, you do not know about managing an estate? What is it you do know, if you do not mind my asking?”
“I was a parson’s wife for twenty-four years, with two grown children to our credit. I know who to trust, and I trust you.”
Elizabeth coloured at the compliment.
“Is there any possible skill more valuable? The rest is mostly manners, mechanics, and common sense.”
“Well said, young lady.”
They approached a large set of double doors Elizabeth assumed led to the ballroom.
“Your charge will do fine, madam. She had two enormous surprises within a few hours and is not a blubbering mess. What is she—sixteen? My sixteen-year-old sister goes to pieces if she cannot find the ribbon colour she wants at the haberdashery.”
Mrs Annesley chuckled along with Elizabeth. “Yes, yes… definitely impertinent.”
“Your charge need not learn everything today, but what say you to a lesson or two? It shall be much to her benefit and shall not harm the guests. To be honest, I could use her intimate knowledge.”
“I agree.”
When they entered the ballroom, the visitors gazed about in awe, though their capacity for wonder had been diminished by their ride in the rain. “This will do! This will do very nicely!”
Mrs Annesley stepped beside them. “Miss Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, pray, stand back-to-back for a moment.”
Both ladies looked perplexed but did as instructed.
“Now you, Miss Wythe.”
Margaret did as Lizzy had, then Mrs Annesley turned to a maid.
“Martha, I believe this job is for you. Remove an inch and a half from Miss Darcy’s green walking dress, and two from the yellow. Speed matters more than quality; simply pin the hems. That will allow our young ladies to wash, it is to be hoped before the villagers arrive.”
She turned to a footman. “Request warm water for them to wash. They lack time to wash and change in their rooms—especially as Miss Darcy has not assigned them—so bring everything to the west retiring room. At the same time, have someone begin heating a quantity of water. You can store it in tubs if necessary. The villagers will be freezing and filthy. Heating takes time; best to get on with it.”
She turned to Miss Darcy, who said. “Excellent suggestions, Mrs Annesley. I applaud your thinking.”
Mr Breton said, “I shall have the stable hands make a fire outside and do the same. We have troughs for livestock that are clean and equal to the task.”
Elizabeth assented. The remaining instructions given, the staff departed to begin.
Miss Darcy said, “Mrs Annesley, thank you for reminding me that I neglected to assign rooms for our guests. Martha, pray prepare the yellow suite for Miss Bennet and—”
“We are happy to share a suite,” Elizabeth interrupted. “We have done so many times.”
Miss Darcy brightened at the idea and nodded. “Their parents should go next door in the green suite.”
“Miss Bennet, what is next?”
Mrs Annesley arched an eyebrow. She had done all she planned, chiefly because she had not the faintest idea what followed; but she was happy to be reminded of her basic duty. She nodded to Elizabeth, who was pondering that very question.
She was startled to have a vision of her mother standing before her once again, speaking perfect sense.
The mistress of an estate must understand time and place.
I know you think I am excessively silly, which is all fine and good, so you should be able to learn the lesson in a trice.
I set a good table because I know what I have on hand, what I can get easily, what I need, where everyone is in my home, and how long everyone takes to get things done.
We are rarely late to engagements because I deem it important to arrive on time, despite six ladies in the house.
When you are mistress, remember this and try to do even better than I do.
Since heeding her mother’s advice had started this journey, which she had to admit surpassed all expectation, there was no reason not to at least hear her ghost out. Little as she liked listening to her mother, she had to admit that she was right in this case.
When Mrs Bennet offered this sage counsel, Elizabeth was fifteen and wondering why she was denied a favourite dish for a dinner party including the Lucases and Longs; she was frankly being rather unpleasant about the whole affair.
She had only decided her preference that day and was vexed her mother could not conjure it.
Another half-hour’s discussion proved that, even were it possible, the dish would not suit the evening’s scheme—a fact she had not considered.
Elizabeth wondered where all that good sense had gone, and whether she should attend more to her own memories of her mother, and less to her father’s endless teasing.
It was certain her mother overspent their allowance, probably did not help with their dowries, and embarrassed them frequently; but she was more sensible than people gave her credit for, at least much of the time, if one could overlook the times she was not.
Elizabeth shook her head to dispel the ghost and cease wool-gathering. “Miss Darcy, I must apologise for taking your place in our earlier discussions.”
“No apology is necessary!” Georgiana cried. “You did what was required, and I hope you will continue. I doubt we would have had the slightest idea what to do, and I still do not.”
“You would if you really had to,” Elizabeth replied gently.
“It is in your blood, even if you do not know it just yet. Have you not watched your father, brother, aunts, and uncles for sixteen years? Did nothing stick? Do you think you are the first Darcy woman in the last several centuries to face difficulty she was unprepared and untrained for? I know your brother. He would not leave his estate in incapable hands. If I were not here, someone else would step up. That said, I am here, and I will do my best, and if I may be so bold, perhaps instruct you.”
“Have we time for that?”
“Yes. I shall have need of your knowledge; let us begin.”
Georgiana remained frightened, so Elizabeth spread her hands. “Look around. We shall have fifty to seventy visitors within the few hours, I imagine. What must we do next?”
The girl just shook her head, her eyes a bit wide, and Elizabeth said, “Just look around this ballroom. Picture the space and then picture people in it. Imagine this. Should your brother, in a wild flight of uncharacteristic frivolity, decide to host a ball with one hundred guests, would they fit?”
Georgiana still looked perplexed.
“Surely, your mother must have done so in the past. You must have read her diaries, or her ancestors’, or heard stories from the housekeeper or older retainers?”
Slowly, Miss Darcy said, “My mother did host such balls from time to time.”
“Excellent. For how many people?”
“Fifty commonly, but over one hundred at least once.”
“Very good. That means we can fit at least fifty people in here and get them out of the rain long enough to organise them. It takes more space for people to arrange beds and tables and the like, so it might be tight, but at least hypothetically possible.”
“I agree.”
“Next question. Suppose your brother wanted to have a house party—”
“You must not know my brother very well if you propose such a scheme,” Georgiana giggled.
Elizabeth joined her laughter. “I agree, I do not know your brother as well as I should, but that is neither here nor there. Suppose he married, and his wife decided to hold a house party for thirty of your friends. Would the house be strained?”
To her credit, Georgiana furrowed her brow in thought, and finally said, “It has been done. I believe my mother had forty once.”
“You know she would only have counted the gentry. That forty would have brought at least thirty servants for a total of seventy, and they all fit?”
“Yes,” Miss Darcy replied with little confidence.
“So, we have room in this house for at least double what we have, if we are willing to put villagers in bedchambers. The guest wing is forbidden for obvious reasons, but we should still have plenty of room.”
“I suppose!”
“Do not suppose! You are the mistress, and you should either know or take steps to find out. Now is your chance to show your brother the Darcy steel you must have in your spine. We have people coming who need accommodation. You know this house. I do not. I could probably organise it with Mrs Reynolds’ help, or even just with Mr Breton, but you need to take on the mistress role. How shall we proceed, Miss Darcy?”
The lady appeared frightened, though less so than moments before; she glanced between Miss Bennet, Mrs Annesley, and Miss Wythe, and finally asked, “Where do I begin?”
“Good! Do not worry. We will not let you fail. Let us begin with the most important first. Some villagers will be injured, maybe critically. They must be cared for immediately. The rest will become ill-tempered if they must stand about too long, but they can wait for the injured; especially if we can keep them busy setting things up. So, where can you put the injured to give them the most comfort possible?”
Elizabeth watched with satisfaction as Miss Darcy considered the problem carefully before answering.
“They obviously should be sheltered in apartments with comfortable beds. In that, you are correct. It is not complicated. The guest wing is unavailable, so I think the family wing?”
Now somewhat nervous herself, Elizabeth asked, “Are you certain your brother would approve?”
Georgiana sniggered in a good approximation of Lydia. “As you so correctly pointed out, my brother is not here. He can whine at his leisure later.”
“Let us work out the details together. You should make sure there are no valuables nearby. The villagers are honest, but it is best to remove temptation and ambiguity.”
“There is a large linen closet on the second floor. Mrs Lovel, we will most likely need the linens for the villagers anyway, so perhaps we could have all of those delivered to the ballroom, then go through the other rooms in the family wing and move anything small and valuable to the linen closet where it can be locked up, or in the master’s suite. ”
Elizabeth said gently, “We have time for that, but if we were in a hurry, you might delay that step. I should think the injured, along with their parents, should be able to fit in a guest suite comfortably. A house like this could easily accommodate five or ten in a suite. The bedding will be forfeit, but your brother will not care about that. I applaud your good sense.”
“That is like applauding a horse for drinking once you have led him to water.”
“What else?”
“Light fires in the rooms to ward off the chill, and carry water for washing? If the fireplaces have pothooks, perhaps put on some water for warming.”
Elizabeth nodded, and a footman went off to set to the task.
“Well done, Miss Darcy, but think not only of the present, but tonight and the morning.”
“Yes, normally the fires would be handled by servants, but they may be busy. Perhaps some of the stable hands can stock extra coal.”
Elizabeth smiled her approval and was pleased to see Mr Breton signal one of his men without being asked, so she continued, “Now for the ballroom.”
“The east door opens to a courtyard. This is the ground floor, so they can bring in whatever they need, and leave the rest in the wagons. The stables are just across the way, and we can place things or shelter people there if necessary.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Very good. Now picture it. Villagers coming in wet, bedraggled, with squalling and frightened children. What do you do?”
Thus encouraged, Miss Darcy started walking through the ballroom issuing instructions.
“These sofas against that wall. We could cover them with sheets, but they are all about due for reupholstering anyway. They have been here since my mother’s time, and I have occasionally been tempted to light one or two on fire just to force the issue.
We should be able to bring in some parlour tables, or from the small breakfast nook.
Get these fires lit post-haste and bring water.
Get the stable hands to bring in some straw and stack it along those walls.
Go to the stores and get some food people can eat quickly and have it readily available, perhaps cooking on the fireplace on the south wall.
Tell the cook to make broth, stew, and porridge starting right now. ”
The servants nodded and hurried off in different directions; Elizabeth smiled in satisfaction.
She would occasionally offer a suggestion or quietly delay a footman or maid to suggest ways to accomplish the task or give Miss Darcy suggestions about the direction or frequency of her efforts; but she mostly left it to the actual mistress of the estate to manage things.
People often said it was ‘in the blood’ or ‘blood would out.’ It might be true, because years of living in a functioning house would train someone in a way that another upbringing would not.
In the end, it did not matter. Miss Darcy needed a bit of a push, but she was showing herself to be a Darcy, not to be intimidated by a few unexpected guests.