“The rubble?Rubbledoes not sound like a house I should like to stay in,” Fitzwilliam said.
“It was nothing at all, I assure you,” Saye told him. “The owner has only just inherited the place and is doing some work to it. An advantage, in my estimation—all will be fresh and new!”
“The work will be complete?” Darcy asked. “We will not be subjected to the sound of hammers and saws the whole time?”
“I have already sent a man down to help her ready the place for us. Some paint, new rugs, and all will be right and tight, I assure you.”
“Who isher?” Fitzwilliam asked. He had brought several oranges with him from the orangery at Matlock House, and he peeled and sectioned them as they all spoke, handing bits of one to Georgiana who adored oranges. Darcy could hardly bear to watch him; not that Elizabeth Bennet smelt of oranges, but she did have a faint hint of orange blossom about her, and Fitzwilliam’s snack was close enough to bring painful recollections to his mind.
“Heris our new landlady.” Saye extended his hand for a section of Fitzwilliam’s orange. “Mrs Basset.”
“She lives in Brighton?” Darcy asked.
“Who knows?” Saye replied airily. “Learning her life story was not my object. My task was to find us all suitable accommodation for the summer, and in that task I have emerged victorious. Shame on all who said it could not be done! But enough of that tedious business—allow me to tell you of the sea views we shall enjoy.”
Everything about the scheme sounded terrible toDarcy, and were Georgiana not positively aflame with delight, he would tell Saye right there and then that he would not go.Brighton!He had no wish to be in Brighton! In fact, he could not think of a place he wished to be less—except back in the parlour at Hunsford, being told he was the last man in the world Elizabeth Bennet would ever think of marrying.
Alas somewhere along the way, it seemed his tacit agreement had been given, and thus to Brighton would he go.
Elizabeth spent a busy few days setting in motion the plans that Agatha had made. Mr Mullens, whom she had met with her uncle as agreed, was to be her foreman, though she doubted his expertise on sight. He was a large, fair-haired, friendly man who did not seem to know what to do with his meaty-looking hands. He struck a wall in an attempt to show her how solid it was…and instead punched a new hole through it. He narrowly missed throwing a hammer through a window while trying to toss it into his workman’s bag, and he proclaimed an aversion to measuring things, assuring Elizabeth he ‘had an eye’. She could only hope he was more skilled at managing the work than he was at executing it. In any case, she had already vowed to come daily to inspect the goings-on, and to enlist her uncle’s assistance in evaluating the quality of the work.
She and Mr Gardiner arrived early one morning to find another man had preceded them. A Mr Tucker awaited them on the top step. He bowed when he saw them and gave his name but no indication of what he wanted. While his attire showed him to be a workingman, the manner of his address made it clear he was accustomed to an elevated position. He exuded an air of competence, and though he had scarcely spoken, Elizabeth found herself wishing he might replace Mr Mullens.
“Miss Bennet, you say?” His brow wrinkled. “Forgive me, I was told your name was Basset.”
“Near enough, I suppose; someone must have heard it wrong.” She invited him to step into the house with them, then asked, “How might I help you, sir?”
“Indeed it is I who am here to help you,” he replied agreeably. “Lord Saye has sent me.”
“Lord Saye sent you here?” She looked at her uncle, who raised one brow, seeming to share her incredulity. The entire family had been treated to a thorough description of his lordship’s flaming character, but they had all agreed it was highly unlikely he would see through his promise of early occupation.
“Aye, ma’am. He means to be in residence this summer and wishes to ensure the place is readied.”
Elizabeth released a sound that was half a laugh and half disbelief. “I had imagined that once Lord Saye returned to London, he might have thought the better of the scheme.”
“No, ma’am. You will find that once the viscount has an idea in his head, he becomes very determined to do whatever it takes to enact it. Particularly if it is a matter pertaining to his diversion.”
“I think you can see, sir, that the summer is an unrealistic expectation. Allow me to acquaint you with some of our plans for it.” Elizabeth gestured about her as she spoke, indicating not only the vestibule but the drawing room to the side. Since the door to thedrawing room had collapsed, taking some of its frame with it, the room itself was plainly visible.
There had been, in the past days, a great deal of cleaning done. Most of the rubble had been cleared from the floor, the pianoforte had been extracted from its hole, and any objects—furnishings, crockery, or the like—that might be salvaged had been assessed and set aside.
In some ways the clearing had made it worse. Damage and rot that had been obscured were now brought to light; there was peeling wallpaper in abundance, as well as tattered curtains. Woodworm was discovered in some of the floorboards along with a variety of strange and concerning stains and markings.
Neither would the work be mere repair. It did not seem sensible to Elizabeth to restore without doing a little modernising as well. As such, water closets were to be installed and the kitchen would be improved. A room on the lower ground floor that seemed purposeless would be remade into servants’ quarters, and one extraordinarily large room, whose original purpose she had not quite worked out, would be made into two large, sea-facing bedchambers. In short, it was not to be a quick business.
Mr Tucker seemed to comprehend her and looked about shaking his head as she spoke. Mr Gardiner offered his opinions as well, opinions that supported Elizabeth’s decisions.
“I daresay the place will be much improved when it is all completed,” Mr Tucker said when he had heard it all.
“It surely will,” agreed Mr Gardiner. “But we have been assured it will require at least a twelve-month.”
“Would that his lordship would grant us twelveweeks, even!” Mr Tucker slowly nodded while continuing to look about and sighing. “A challenge, to be sure, but I believe we can do it in a month.”
Mr Gardiner laughed. “A month?”
“I would need to conscript every working man in the region,” Elizabeth protested, “and even then, there is the matter of orders and materials and?—”
“I am at your service, ma’am,” said Mr Tucker very seriously. “And his lordship has provided the funds for whatever is needed.”
