“I hardly know.” Darcy asked, “Where are your sisters now? Everyone here will need to visit the stillroom.”
“Oh, them?” Bingley fluttered his hand in the air. “They are in the kitchen trying to get tea from Cook. They intend to return to their chambers to have their maid pack for immediate return to London. I have business in Town, so I will escort them. Perhaps once I return, we can do a spot of hunting for fresh meat on the table.”
Darcy spoke slowly. “Bingley, I doubt you still have a table that remains upright. I also doubt you will be able to convince a maid to go upstairs until after the storm blows itself out. If Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley are able to reach their rooms, there is no guaranteeing the condition of their belongings.”
Bingley paled. Shaking his head back and forth as if trying to clear the fog, he said, “If it blew this fierce here, I wonder what has happened to areas closer to the sea, like London.”
“We cannot know. The storm that hit England in 1703 almost completely leveled London and its surroundings. Survival isparamount, my friend. Traveling with the instability of the wind is unsafe. My recommendation is that you remain here until we know the storm has passed. Additionally, I would think you should try to stop them from rambling about in the house. It is unsafe.”
With drooping shoulders and his chin almost to his chest, Bingley said, “This shall be a disappointment to my sisters. They will be unbearable until they are able to leave Hertfordshire.”
“Which is yours and Mr. Hurst’s problem to manage, Bingley. For now, Richard and I shall take advantage of their being gone from the stillroom. Then, we will direct others there until we are all made more comfortable. I am afraid your sisters abdicated their right to the room by their departure.”
Bingley nodded.
Once Darcy and Richard topped the stairs and opened the door to the kitchen, they understood Bingley’s distress. Everything that had been on the shelves or benches was piled against the wall leading to the dining room. Chairs were tossed about like twigs. None of the glass remained in the windows. The folded window curtains the ladies fashioned were in tatters. The massively heavy table was on its side. The back door was lodged in the opening of the fireplace.
Picking their way to the stillroom, Richard noted, “The wind has quieted.”
“For how long?” Darcy set one of the chairs upright. “I suspect that each of Bingley’s guests will seek to return to their homes. If you would check the stables, I will hurry to the dower house to see how the musicians, any tenants, and the rest of the servants do. I shall return as quickly as possible in case the wind whips itself into a frenzy again.”
Darcy shouted down the stairs to his valet. “Pray escort Mrs. Hammond up the stairs. Richard and I, along with the rest of the men, will check the outbuildings to see how the others fared.”
If they thought the kitchen was in bad shape, both men were speechless at the damage to the outside of the building. Some of the exterior walls were mangled, and the slate roofing scattered all over the lawn. The roof of the stable was completely gone, leaving no protection for the men or animals from the rain and hail that fell during the night.
Darcy’s coachman approached, looking decidedly worse for wear.
“Sir, the animals were spooked when the roof blew off, but we were able to keep them in their stalls. I’d wedged your carriage between six others. Yours is only one of two still upright, though it spun sometime during the storm until it faced south instead of north. Even the glass in the windows survived unscathed.”
“Thank you, Dodson.” He shaded his eyes, surveying the landscape. “See what you can do to help the others.”
“Aye, sir.”
Walking the pathway to the dower house, Darcy needed to step around various obstacles in his way. Upon first notice, the brick house was still intact. With the exception of one of the windows in the corner of the building, glass remained in each window. The front door was fastened to the jamb. Before he could knock, the door flew open. An older man with his wife pressed against his back and children at his side asked after Darcy’s welfare. Darcy then asked after theirs.
“We be almost thirty of us inside. During the night, we huddled in one of the corridors. Truth be told, it seems like the winds barely swirled around us compared to that.” He pointed to the main house.
Darcy looked back, shaking his head at the destruction, for the once lovely house looked like a wrinkled old woman whose eyes were sunken in their sockets, and her hat was askew. Netherfield was no longer fit for habitation.
“How do you fare?” he asked the tenant farmer.
“We are well enough. The musicians played all night, keeping us distracted from the wind. Jones and Simpson went out about thirty minutes ago to check our farms to see if it’s wise to return. They’ve just returned. They found that some of the cottages are leveled to the ground while others look like they barely got any wind. There doesn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to the destruction. Already, several of the families have returned to see if they can track down their animals and if their walls are still standing. Others of us choose to wait where we know it is safer until we are certain the storm has passed. Right now, there’s blue sky above us. To the east and south, it’s still as dark as coal. I’ll not be risking me family for curiosity’s sake.”
Grateful to speak with a man of similar thoughts, Darcy asked, “Do you have enough provisions to remain a few days?”
“Aye, we do. Quick as a minute, our wives gathered what was available in our blankets before leaving our cottages, so we are set if we are careful.”
“Good. I imagine Cook is already trying to salvage what she can. Whatever she finds, we will share.”
“I thank ye, sir.”
After departing the dower house, Darcy circled the yard to see how stable the rest of the main house was. It was devastating to see a large gaping hole where the ballroom was. Pieces of crystal from the chandelier sparkled in the grass when the sun’s rays hit them. Bending down, Darcy picked up a broken bow from one of the musicians' violins. There was no evidence of where the rest of the instrument was located.
Hailstones the size of his fists dotted the ground. Derbyshire had its fair share of hailstorms each winter where the danger to humans and animals caught up in the downpour was often fatal. As it was, the stately oaks lining the pond in front of the house were broken and bent, with limbs lying in every direction. The sheer force of the wind left nothing untouched except onemiddle section of Bingley’s house where not only the roof was intact, but the windows contained glass. Like the man in the dower house, he wondered how that could happen.
The devastation made him sick to his stomach. Everywhere he looked there was loss. Nevertheless, his mind was already making lists of things that needed to be done to rebuild. One thing was certain: he would check the shutters of each of the many windows at Pemberley for stability. If his house in London still stood, he would do the same there.
Worry about his servants, his friends, and acquaintances living in Town churned in his gut. Only the thought of Georgiana being safe at Matlock gave him any relief.
