She turned back to Mr. and Mrs. Hill. “Are all the servants accounted for?”
“Yes, miss,” Mr. Hill replied. “All of them are out.”
“Thank goodness.” She took another breath. “All the men, throw water on the fire. The women carry the empty buckets back and return with full ones. Quickly!”
They both nodded and ran.
Kitty and Lydia stood nearby, clinging to one another. Elizabeth hurried toward them. “Come with me. We are on bucket duty.”
They followed her to the well, where several servants were already filling buckets.
She pointed. “Take a full bucket to the men, then bring the empty ones back. Go!” Elizabeth grabbed two buckets and hurried toward the house.
Elizabeth saw her father standing near the flames, staring at the burning building.
“Father,” she said urgently, “can you help with the buckets?”
He looked at her for a moment, as though seeing her clearly for the first time, then nodded. He took one of the buckets from her hands and ran toward the men fighting the fire.
Elizabeth handed off the other bucket, grabbed two empties, and ran back to the well. After that she did not think about anything except the work.
Fill buckets.
Carry them to the house.
Return with the empties.
Again, and again.
She did not know how long she had been working when someone suddenly stopped her.
Mr. Darcy stood before her. “My God, Elizabeth. Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, though tears filled her eyes. “Longbourn,” she whispered.
He nodded grimly. “Here. Let me take those.” He took the buckets from her hands and ran toward the house to join the other men.
Elizabeth watched him for a moment, then turned back for more buckets.
More people were arriving now. Men and servants from both Netherfield and Lucas Lodge joined the fight against the flames. During one trip back to the well, she noticed Mr. Collins sitting beneath a tree, well away from the house. Unmoving and untouched by the urgency. She had no time to consider it.
Suddenly a cheer rose from the men near the house. The fire had been contained.
Elizabeth stood looking at the house, still holding a bucket.
The shouting had stopped. The flames were gone. Only smoke drifted into the night air. Suddenly the bucket felt too heavy in her hands.
Darcy came quietly beside her and took it from her grasp. “Miss Elizabeth.”
She did not answer.
He took her hand gently. “Miss Elizabeth. Look at me.”
She lifted her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
He inclined his head. “Bingley has offered to house everyone at Netherfield tonight.”
