Blue Parlour
She had spent a lot of time thinking about Mr Darcy, but only between furious bouts of mad activity.
Georgiana coined the term ‘triumvirate’ to describe their merry little band that made up what Elizabeth called one good sort of mistress.
She had no idea why Lord or Lady Matlock had not appeared the next day, but Pemberley still stood, so she could claim temporary victory.
The five days since the villagers’ arrival were full of bustle, noise, confusion, and activity.
Stuffing a few dozen traumatised villagers into a ballroom produced behaviour both wonderful and atrociously bad.
It was almost as bad as sticking a few dozen gentry into the same room and telling them to dance.
There was all the one-upmanship and backstabbing you would see in a ball.
There was all the fighting for territory or attention.
There were the kindly and energetic people who made the whole thing work.
There were the rough equivalents of everything from the vast majority who acted properly, to the strutting peacocks, to the drunkards, to the men who should dance but did not
Of course, Elizabeth had never seen fisticuffs in a ball, but was assured they happened with some regularity in London.
Georgiana had been horrified the first time Elizabeth broke up a scuffle between two youths by picking up a nearby blanket and throwing it over them, but she got over it.
Most of the villagers were everything one could wish in a visitor, but a few hotheads could spoil the atmosphere if you did not check them.
Most of the time, the more sensible visitors took care of it, but they could not be everywhere at once.
Thus far, she had not expelled anyone to the stables, but there were a few people an inch from the edge.
Each day, Elizabeth started with the same bath, and yet another new borrowed old dress.
On the third day, she asked if they were too busy to do laundry and received a dark look from Stewart for her impertinence.
On the fourth day, she suggested she just wear the dress from the second, and got a rap on the knuckles, though it was done affectionately.
On the fifth day, she just accepted that she had absolute authority everywhere in the estate except her own dressing room.
Margaret had abandoned her the very first night in favour of Georgiana’s room, and Elizabeth was indifferent, since both girls were short on sisterly experience and she had a surfeit.
After five days of chaos, Elizabeth was rather proud that nothing bad had happened for several hours, no major decisions needed to be made, and nobody was angry with the world at large and Elizabeth Bennet in particular. She intended to sit for an hour with tea and biscuits.
The morning of bright sunshine right after she arrived had lasted only half a day, and the villagers spent the rest of the time trying to get by in torrential rain.
Some of the men went back to the village to begin rebuilding.
Mr Breton and Mr Wythe went along with most of the outside staff, but they mainly found there was little to be done.
They managed to clear some of the bigger debris, but it was a muddy mess and impossible to do anything other than measure or plan on the burnt section.
Doubtless, the torrential rains had slowed Georgiana’s express riders to a crawl, and she hoped neither of them became injured or ill, though there was nothing she could do about that except show some patience.
One of the measles patients died on the second day, while three more maids and two footmen became ill, one deathly so.
Two of the older men brought in on the first coach likewise died, but everyone else in the family wing seemed to be recovering nicely.
She had the apothecaries from both Lambton and Kympton visiting Pemberley regularly, and also arranged to pay them to visit Sudbury nearly every day.
Elizabeth had, quite boldly she thought, engaged blacksmiths, builders, and a few tradesmen from the nearby villages, and some labourers from Pemberley’s tenants, promising them payment from Pemberley’s coffers.
She had nearly panicked about the expense at first, until Georgiana dragged her into an anteroom and insisted that so far, Elizabeth had not even made a significant dent in Georgiana’s pin money for the year, so she needed to quit being so timid.
All in all, things were about as well as could be expected.
Elizabeth was tired and dishevelled, though she would not dare let anyone else see, lest Stewart appear inadequate in her duties.
With that in mind, she made Georgiana handle the pouring of tea and the like.
All she wanted was a few minutes relaxation, and a chance to go to bed before midnight, which all things considered, seemed unlikely.
She vaguely heard the door open and was somewhat startled by a loud announcement.
“Lady Matlock.”
The announcement shook her out of her lethargy and invigorated her.
She wondered when the traditional functions of the butler had been replaced by somebody else, since the butler was still recovering in the guest wing, but since odds were that she herself had ordered the change and just forgotten, she did not worry overly much.
Elizabeth jumped up from the sofa, nearly spilling her tea, faced the door, and hoped the lady would be merciful.
A deep curtsy and bow of her head accompanied her greeting. “Lady Matlock, what a pleasure to see you again.”
Georgiana seemed a bit surprised by the greeting, since Elizabeth had never mentioned the visit to Matlock, but she forgot that and ran over to give her aunt a big hug. Elizabeth was not surprised by either the affection or the informality.
Lady Matlock squeezed her niece hard for a moment, as if to prove she was in one piece, stepped back, seized her by the shoulders, and subjected her to a thorough scrutiny.
Elizabeth presumed she passed muster, for Lady Matlock stepped aside to address the room—an order dictated more by proximity than precedence, as if precedence could be determined in such a situation.
“Miss Bennet, Miss Wythe, Mr Wythe, Mrs Wythe—what an absolute pleasure to see you all again.”
After giving her niece another squeeze, the countess approached Elizabeth. “Well met, Miss Bennet. Very well met, indeed. I told you we would meet again.”
“I imagine you did, my lady.”
To Elizabeth’s complete surprise, Lady Matlock wrapped her in a tight embrace, and whispered in her ear, “I am so very happy to see you, my dear.”
Elizabeth might have been shocked, but days of Pemberley madness and a lifetime of Bennet lunacy had left her resilient, so she whispered back, “Probably not as happy as I am to see you.”
“We shall see, Miss Bennet. May I call you Elizabeth?”
“Of course.”
Lady Matlock released her, then walked over to Margaret, who looked uncertain how to act.
She gave Mrs Wythe a wink and embraced Margaret much as she had Elizabeth.
The Wythes were no more bothered by a countess hugging their daughter than they were by anything else.
They thought the lady could very well make her own rules of decorum, so long as she was affectionate.
Robert Breton had entered with the countess but stood quietly off to the side, so Elizabeth greeted him. “Mr Breton. well met! Will you join us for tea?”
Elizabeth wondered if Lady Matlock would object, but the question was answered immediately.
“Come, Robert,” said she. “I must have you sit. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better sit and have some tea.”
Quite to Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr Breton laughed heartily, came over, gave the countess a kiss on the cheek, and sat down. Elizabeth wondered if anybody in this family followed the usual rules of propriety.
Smiling broadly, Lady Matlock said, “Do not panic, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth nodded mutely.
“I assume you are wondering if I even read the deportment manuals. We normally operate with the generally accepted rules of formality, at least when visitors are present, but after this week, I feel as though you are family. Did you know that when young Robert took his very first steps, it was toward me? I was visiting Pemberley, and he was out of doors with his mother. I have been teasing him about the fall he took ever since.”
Shaking her head in confusion, Elizabeth saw Mr Breton smile. “It was all your fault, my lady.”
She laughed as if they had been sharing the same joke since he learned to talk.
The tea had gone cold, so Georgiana stacked the teacups aside, procured fresh, and poured again.
For a few minutes, Elizabeth sat back and listened as the three who knew each other so well conversed about commonplaces.
Lady Matlock did not draw her into the conversation, but Elizabeth suspected the lady was merely allowing her a respite.
Finally, after the polite talk had been exhausted and everyone finished their tea, Elizabeth decided to turn the conversation in the proper direction.
“Lady Matlock, I am so happy to see you. I will be ever so pleased to turn the management over to a proper mistress.”
Georgiana and Margaret nodded eagerly, smiling hugely. They were both more exhausted and overwhelmed than Elizabeth was, not because they did more work, but because they were not accustomed to it.
“Why on Earth would I do that? Pemberley already has a proper mistress.”
Elizabeth stared at her, having not the vaguest notion of what to say.
Lady Matlock leaned forward on the sofa, reached over, and took Elizabeth’s hands. “You need not worry about censure. You have done well, very well indeed. There can be no two opinions on the subject.”
Elizabeth sputtered, “But… but—,” and finally surrendered when she had nothing but grunts to contribute.
Lady Matlock raised her voice. “Robert, tell me what I should change in the management of the estate.”
“Stay out of Miss Bennet’s way, my lady. Everything is being done just as it should.”
“But… but… I am not qualified!”
Lady Matlock patted her hands. “Be honest. Do you hate the job? Would you like to go home? I assure you, I trust Robert implicitly. If he says we have the right mistress, I would stake my life on it, and so would Darcy.”
Elizabeth shook her head a few more times, but Lady Matlock was implacable.
“Think about it. The house is in no particular danger, but quite a lot of turmoil, consternation, and confusion. Those villagers are distressed and worried. Everyone in the house already trusts you. Everyone already knows you understand all that is happening. What would be improved by my taking the reins you already handle so well? If you have no objection, I will ask you to stay in the same capacity for a few more days until things settle a bit.”
Elizabeth met the countess’s gaze. It was one of the times where her courage must rise to the occasion. Of course, rationally, that only meant returning to what she had been doing twenty minutes earlier.
“You will stay and at least help?”
“Of course, but we must make it clear that—how did my niece put it—your word is law.”
“You may have noticed that your niece is prone to fits of hyperbole.”
“Yes, but this time she is right.”
Elizabeth sighed, and wondered how much of her life would consist of simply accepting the inevitable.