Miss Darcy would enjoy having the house to herself.As much as she wanted to know Miss Darcy better, Elizabeth resolved to make herself scarce.
“Lizzy, should you like to come with us to Haddon?” Jane asked.
She saw Mrs Lanyon down the table, saying as little as she was known to say. Elizabeth did not want her new acquaintance to feel that she had insulted her by what she had done last night or said this morning. “I would be glad to, but might we ask Mrs Lanyon to join us?”
Jane and Bingley invited her. Mrs Lanyon demurred out of politeness, until Elizabeth added, “Please say yes, Mrs Lanyon. I wouldenjoy your company.” She gave the widow a pointed look, and when she smiled and agreed, Elizabeth knew Mrs Lanyon understood how much she wanted her to come. There should be no awkwardness between them now.
They were nearly finished eating, but Darcy had still not appeared. “Has anyone seen Mr Darcy this morning?” she asked.
Caroline gave her a scathing look. “Why should it matter toyou?”
Bingley looked askance at his sister. “You asked the same question an hour ago.” Elizabeth supposed it was too much to hope that Caroline had thought nothing of Darcy’s manner towards her since their visit to Bakewell, or the Kiss the Nun forfeit last night.“I saw him from a window leave at first light. His steward was with him,” Bingley said with a sigh.
“He shall be an awful object tonight,” Mr Utterson said, turning over a page of his letter.
It soon became clear that half of the group knew something that the other half did not.
“The dreadful storm last night did considerable damage,” Bingley said.
“Where?” asked Mrs Lanyon.
“Everywhere,” Mr Utterson said. “That is what happens to ground that is already wet when it rains for hours without intermission. I saw it all when I rode to Lambton for my post.” He pointed out the window.
“I heard from Miss Darcy’s lady that there was damage across the county, but is it truly that bad here?” Elizabeth asked as she rose to the window.
“Apparently, rain inundated Lambton and other lower-lying towns, as well as Darcy’s properties, like never before,” Bingley said. “The rain caused the Derwent to swell three feet in five minutes.”
Those who had not known about the destruction joined Elizabeth at the window. Some of the beautiful oaks and Spanish chestnuts looked as though they had been torn from the earth and tossed about. The stream flooded its banks far enough to drown the land adjacent to it. The floodwater had damaged the paths as well as uprooted and washed away the plants in the garden.
“Thank goodness the house itself is not damaged,” Mr Balfour said, leaving the window.
“That is the important thing,” Caroline agreed.
Elizabeth was still looking at the grounds. What was not underwater was a mess of mud and debris. The constant heavy rain, falling on already waterlogged ground, must have added volumes of water to all of Pemberley’s streams and ponds, and had washed away simply everything.
The house may not have flooded, but what about all of the buildings and land that Darcy owns?
“What effect will this have on the estate?” she asked Bingley, who had come to the window for another look.
He shrugged sadly. “It is too soon to know for certain. No crops, no hay, no livestock... then his tenants have nothing to sell and cannot pay their rent, and Darcy has no income. But let us hope it is not as bad as that.”
The rest returned to their seats, and Elizabeth reflected on a landowner’s responsibility to his tenants. Darcy would be saddled with the expense for every repair, and earn little from the estate this year if the damage was great.His only income would be off his investments, but that might not be enough to pay for everything.She felt for him, for the anxiety he must be feeling. She guiltily longed to know what at that moment was passing in his mind, and if affection for her was amongst his more pressing concerns about Pemberley.
Darcy stoodoutside the drawing room door, still dressed in the clothes he had worn all day although it was closer to supper than to dinner time.I want to sleep. Tomorrow will not be easier.He had not seen his sister or his company since last night, but he could not appear before them as he was: covered in mud to his knees, damp from the splashes of puddles, covered in sweat from riding all day. He had walked through muck and debris, and his gloves, boots, and hat had not been enough to prevent him from being too filthy to appear before even his closest friends.
He did not want to bother changing his clothes to appear before them and knew he would have the utmost difficulty in forcing a little cheerfulness.He was about to leave for the back staircase when the door opened and his sister looked into the hall.
“I thought I heard something as I walked the room,” Georgiana said softly. “Were you going to come in?”
“No,” he said. “I am too tired, and am not fit to be seen.”
“How bad was the flooding? Did the Derwent?—”
“Is that Darcy?” he heard Bingley call. “Tell him to come in!”
Georgiana opened the door wider, and they both went into the drawing room.
“Good evening,” he said to everyone, not venturing far into the room. He certainly would not sit on any of his furniture.
