“Of course. What can I do?”
Georgiana very forwardly grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and dragged her from the room into the dining-parlour, where quite a large number of servants—some of whom seemed to work outside—had gathered. She addressed them.
“This is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and her good friend Miss Margaret Wythe. Miss Bennet is well known to my brother and has his implicit trust. She has agreed to help us in this difficult time, and so I ask you treat her requests as orders.”
Elizabeth gasped and wanted to shout at the upstart young lady like she would Lydia when she was being particularly naughty, but Miss Darcy appeared unequal to her first trial of household management—when she was not even out—being the housing of forty or fifty villagers.
Elizabeth, on the other hand, had been active in her neighbourhood for years and had often taken part in the management of fairs and the like. She had even known the dubious pleasure of assisting after two other much smaller but still deadly fires. She had a fairly good idea of what to do.
Elizabeth sighed but stood up straight. Nothing was to be gained by cowering. It had done her no good thus far, and it was time for someone to act as mistress. It was only for a few days. How bad could it be?
Quarantine
Elizabeth’s father was such a confusing man that she vacillated between loving him intensely and hating him with the same fervour.
An excellent question, Lizzy! I manage to spend most of my time in my library with no steward without the estate falling into ruin, because I know who to trust and how far to trust them. I will admit I could have done much better. I should really have left you girls with bigger dowries, and better educations, but that is a different matter. Think on this! Your mother spends an hour or two with Hill to get one of her dinners. I can get the same in five minutes by simply telling Mrs Hill what I want to eat and getting out of her way. Subordinates thrive on trust and responsibility in just the right amounts. Too much and you can be overwhelmed or cheated. Too little and they will not strive for you. Learn that balancing act and you shall know how to act.
Mr Bennet was so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice, that the experience of three-and-twenty years had been insufficient to make his wife understand his character. Twenty years had left Elizabeth with better understanding than her poor befuddled mother, but only marginally. Mr Bennet had not done what was considered a father’s duty by providing dowries for his daughters, but was it possible he considered that akin to selling them to the highest bidder? Did he want to weed out the inevitable fortune hunters in advance? Might he have some money set aside that nobody knew about? It was certainly the wrong time to be thinking about such things, so Elizabeth resolved to take the good and disregard the bad in her father’s advice.
She pulled Miss Darcy aside. “That was badly done!You place me in a very awkward position. I will ascribe this to your youth and inexperience, and I will help you, but you need to accept that I amhelpingyou. I am not the mistress of this estate.”
She felt just a touch guilty when she saw the look of mortification on Miss Darcy’s face and saw her pale and shake a bit in fear.
“Courage, Miss Darcy—courage. I am not especially angry; I just want you to understand. I am happy to be of help, but you must learn from the experience.”
Returning to the crowd, Elizabeth raised her voice to carry over the din.
“I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I amassistingMiss Darcy because I have some experience with measles and the management of large groups. I also need to tell you that much of Sudbury has burned a few hours ago, and we expect fifty or sixty visitors. We need to prepare for them. We shall also need to deal with the measles cases you have seen, and they are not likely to be the last. Shall we begin?”
Everyone nodded with varying degrees of enthusiasm and looked to her.
“I am new here and do not know anybody, so may I ask who the leaders are outside the house?”
A handsome man of about five-and-twenty stepped forward. “Robert Breton, ma’am. I am the stable master.”
A rugged man of fifty stepped forward. “Johan Smith, ma’am. I am kennel master.”
A third man, perhaps forty, bowed. “James Barrington; head gardener.”
Elizabeth asked curiously, “Where is the steward?”
“Our luck is dreadful,” Georgiana replied. “Mr Knight went to visit his family for a week. It is unusual for Fitzwilliam and Mr Knight to be gone at the same time, but not unheard of for short periods.”
“These things happen. Your family has held this land for centuries. I have no doubt your brother left plenty of capable people to manage his estate. If I were not here at all, someone would step forward who knows what to do. If you chose one of these men by lot, you would be fine.”
Georgiana looked at her sceptically but lacked the courage to contradict her new friend.
Mr Barrington, the gardener, said quietly, “If I may make a suggestion?”
“Pray do.”
“I’ve six gardeners, ma’am. Breton and Smith have perhaps a dozen or so between them. I suggest we defer to Breton for everything outside the house. Should be simpler for you, ma’am.”
Elizabeth looked at Georgiana. “Miss Darcy?”
At first, Georgiana looked frightened; then she swallowed hard, straightened, and laughed nervously. “I believe Mr Breton was practically tossed into Fitzwilliam ‘s cradle as a babe.They have been nearly inseparable since. I concur with Mr Barrington.”
Elizabeth sighed at having the first problem solved, for she was only a fingers-width less nervous than Miss Darcy; one of the smaller fingers at that. She was very tempted to tell her to just put Mr Breton in charge, but it seemed unlikely he would know what needed to be done inside the house or with the ill.
