By now the last savings from when she had sold every piece of jewelry and nearly every piece of fine clothes after Mr. Wickham left were exhausted. And she could not return to the house of the friend who she had lodged with for the last weeks.
Not after that friend’s husband had made a quite serious effort to seduce Elizabeth.
Elizabeth’s heart started to pound. An unpleasant hollowness ached in her stomach. A claw caught at her throat.
Instead of doing what sheoughtto do, and making inquiries about Mr. Wickham’s location, Elizabeth grabbed the tray on which the half-eaten bowls of broth had been placed. She piled several other small items on the tray and carried it across the hall and down the stairs into the kitchen.
The stench of rotten meat met her as she passed through the kitchen into the adjoining scullery. Sally and George had made a bit of a start at thecleaning. She put the bowls down in the copper sink for washing the china and looked at the water cistern to see how much was present.
Nearly empty; if Sally did not return soon, she would go out to collect water from the communal well.
Elizabeth went out to the kitchen, and she hauled the dishes scattered around into the scullery, placing them in either the stone sinks for the pots and servant’s dishes, or the softer copper sink for the family’s plate.
She then went back to the drawing room to see what else there was to collect.
George immediately ran up to her, followed by Emily. “Look, look, look!” he waved a piece of paper shaped as a swan in Elizabeth’s face, “Georgie made this. Her name is almost George, like my name. But for a girl.”
“I see,” Elizabeth looked seriously at the swan. Her lips felt rather numb, but she made herself to smile. “And what type of animal is it?”
George looked at her like she was an idiot, and then with a giggle he said, “It’s a swan, of course!”
“A swan. And very like. Does this swan have a name?”
“Uh…Georgie! Like me and Georgie.”
“An excellent name.”
At least she had the children. It was like when he’d abandoned her. There had been not much time for grief with all the necessary tasks.
Elizabeth looked around again. She collected the old blood-crusted bandages into one pile.
“You should not do this,” Mr. Darcy said. “You are not a servant.”
With a tense laugh Elizabeth replied, “You have no servants in the house, and I am the closest to one. I need something to do.”
Her hands shook a little.
She had fantasized about how it would be when Mr. Wickham at last returned.
Shouting and anger, of course.
Perhaps that was what had driven him away the first time. Her anger at the absence of money, about the courtesans, the drink, the gambling, and about how he never applied himself.
But in the fantasies, when she shouted at him, he admitted that she had been right about everything. And then she imagined how he would put his abilities, which were not insignificant, to good use. He would prosper in a respectable career. He would put aside drink, gambling, and other women forever. At first, of course, things could not be as they had been. She no longer loved or trusted him, but when he proved to be a good father, a good provider, and when he had proven his constancy, she would eventually have forgiven him.
They would have been happy again.
Mr. Darcy watched her the entire time with his intense, dark gaze. She returned to the room and busied herself making another collection of detritus. This would be the last set, and then she would need to find a new task.
Nearly as soon as Elizabeth had settled everything into the scullery, Sally returned with the desired supplies.
Elizabeth set her to disposing of the rotten side of beef and then collecting more water. With only one servant, Elizabeth could not expect the room to be scrubbed and properly cleaned soon. “Afterwards go out and get light crackers and crusts of bread for Mr. Darcy. And some bones to make more broth with.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The actual servant no more thought of her as a servant than Mr. Darcy did. Finally, Elizabeth returned to the drawing room again.
A sweaty, hot day. And Elizabeth was becoming quite hungry. She had been tempted to take one of the apples she saw in the larder, but they were not hers, and she would not presume.
