With every fiber of her being, Elizabeth wanted to jump in and divert the attention to herself so her mother would not make matters worse by speaking carelessly. Nonetheless, Mrs. Hammond’s comments earlier about her family were valid. She was not responsible for either parent. Therefore, she pressed her lips together and said nothing, hoping this was one of the rare times that Francine Bennet was rational.
Her mother’s body shook before she breathed deeply to calm herself. Her chin lifted until she gazed down her nose at Miss Bingley, who remained seated on the hearth. Elizabeth knew that look well. Francine Bennet, on occasion, understood more than she let on. Even Elizabeth’s father stated once or twice that his wife had a degree of sense. Where she failed was in execution. The few times her mother convinced herself that she was in the right, she became a force to be reckoned with against anyone who dared to oppose her.
“Miss Bingley, you address me with words of contempt, yet have I not already accomplished what you most desire? Despite my background in trade being the same as yours, I attracted and married a gentleman landowner well before I reached my majority. Not only are you unwed at an age far beyond what I was, but it is apparent that there is no one in pursuit of your hand since we have seen no suitors since you arrived in Hertfordshire. On the other hand, my daughters are universally known to be kind-hearted. They know better than to utter callous, spiteful, malicious, or ruthless comments against anyone, but most especially a guest. I dare say that you could learn much from any of my children, Miss Bingley. Why, my Jane is a model of elegance. Elizabeth is a fount of intelligence and joy. Mary is morally excellent. Kitty and Lydia, though years younger than you, have an abundance of friends who are eager for their company. Tell me, who are your friends? Who is eager to spend time with you?” She waved her hand as if brushingaway a fly. “Oh, do not trouble yourself to answer, Miss Bingley. Your lack of London companions other than Mr. Darcy and his cousin speaks for itself, does it not? Now, if you do not mind, I would caution you about sitting too close to the flames. I hear the wind picking up. Even with the screen placed properly, which should have been done for Lydia, the ashes might blow.”
Miss Bingley sat in stunned silence. She was not alone, for Elizabeth was gobsmacked by her mother’s reasoning. Barely keeping herself from hugging Mama close and praising her for her fine words, Elizabeth watched in horror as a downdraft, caused smoke, ash, and cinders, to back up into the kitchen. The screen kept the debris from Miss Bingley’s gown, but it did not stop the flow to her face and hair.
“No!” Miss Bingley screeched, sounding remarkably like Elizabeth’s mother had done moments prior. Before she could stop Mrs. Hurst, she grabbed the full water bucket kept by the fireplace and dumped it over her sister in the same manner as had been done earlier to Lydia.
The men rushed up from the cellar at the disturbance to witness Miss Bingley in all her disheveled glory. Instead of rejoicing in the justice of the moment, Jane and Elizabeth grabbed available dishcloths and a blanket to dry off as much water as possible. When Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley rushed back to the stillroom with no actual harm done to either sister, Jane offered assistance.
“Just leave me alone.”
Mrs. Francine Bennet chortled. “Well! I did try to warn her, did I not?”
At that moment, Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s eye. Full of merriment, he cupped his hand over his mouth to stifle his laughter. The colonel was no less affected. Mr. Bingley, unaware of what led up to the disaster and too comfortable with the amount of spirits he had already consumed, said, “I must speakto Mr. Morris about this fireplace. As steward of Netherfield Park, he should know it is defective. What say you, Darcy? Should we keep the ladies from the hearth since it appears they attract smoke?”
Mr. Darcy swallowed, closed his eyes tightly for a hairsbreadth, then said, “As you say, Bingley.”
Elizabeth suspected that she would be able to see bite marks on his tongue if she could see it.
Who knew Mr. Darcy had a sense of humor? By the minute, she learned more about him. And she liked what she learned.
CHAPTER 17
Miss Bingley deserved the comeuppance delivered by Mrs. Bennet. The more Darcy learned of Elizabeth’s family, including the matron, the more he realized how much his first impressions were flawed. He never would have guessed that Mrs. Bennet’s personality contained a facet where she spoke intelligently in a regulated tone. Still, he could not countenance her treatment of her second daughter. Nothing was said or done to acknowledge Miss Elizabeth’s heroic efforts.
“Mr. Darcy, I believe it is Miss Bingley who has soot on her nose, not my mother.”
He blinked, unaware that he had been staring while he contemplated the events of the past minutes.
“Yes, you are correct, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Was that hard for you to admit?”
He smiled, grateful for her tease. “Not at all.”
“Miss Elizabeth.” Darcy dipped his head to address her alone. “I am concerned how the ladies will respond once daylight breaks. The damage from the storm will be visible through the windows. Where my first instinct is to cover them, the incoming light will brighten everyone’s spirits. Additionally, all of us are weary. Mrs. Hammond’s lack of sleep must be taxing her.Nonetheless, I have yet to see her display anything other than alertness.”
Miss Elizabeth nodded when Richard joined them.
“If I might make a recommendation, Darcy? With the instability of the wind, should it turn completely and blow hard against this side of the house, anyone standing close to the windows is in danger. We might consider setting the fireplace screens upon small tables between us and the glass. That way there will be diffused light entering the room even as the screens might protect us from flying shards of glass.”
Darcy immediately approved his cousin’s idea. Returning to the cellar to get help, Darcy started to follow. Turning back, he asked Elizabeth, “Is there anything else that could add to the ladies’ comfort?”
“I suspect that the mothers will gather their daughters like hens to their chicks. Mr. Hurst and Colonel Forster should provide a resting place for their wives. This will leave Netherfield’s female servants, Mrs. Hammond, Miss Bingley, Jane, and myself. The men in the wine cellar, including my father’s cousin, Mr. Collins, should be able to care for themselves, am I correct?”
He grinned. “Did you refrain from listing Richard and myself on purpose, Miss Elizabeth?”
She smiled at him. “While I may have concerns about the others, I am confident that you and your cousin are both resourceful and cautious. Him because of successfully returning to England with his regiment intact, and you because you have not failed one time to put the welfare of others ahead of your own since the wind started blowing.”
Her kind words released a flood of gratitude somewhere deep in his chest. Her mother may not have recognized her value, but he did.
While Elizabethand Jane distributed blankets to the ladies, they inquired about the condition of their welfare. Mrs. Long, Lady Lucas, and their mother appeared to compete with each other, claiming they endured more miseries.
“Oh, Lizzy, no one knows what I suffer,” came Mrs. Bennet’s oft repeated words.
Mrs. Long surprised Elizabeth with her complaints.
