Page 2 of The Briar Bargain
"How very devoted she is. I always say there is nothing so elegant as a lady who is accomplished in both music and manners. Soothing, familiar airs, played by accomplished hands, are such a comfort."
Mr. Darcy made a sound that might have been agreement. It might also have been a sneeze he was too disciplined to permit. Elizabeth could not tell.
Miss Bingley, who had been stirring her tea with exaggerated elegance, tilted her head towards Elizabeth with a smile that never reached her eyes. “Your sister is a lovely girl,” she said smoothly. “It is always charming to see such unaffected sweetness, especially in one so eagerto please.”
It was clear to Elizabeth, though the men at the table seemed not to notice, that Miss Bingley thought Jane rathertooeager to please. Elizabeth was weary. She did not wish to play this pernicious woman’s games. “Yes,” she replied lightly. “Those who are truly sincere rarely trouble themselves over how that sincerity is perceived. It is a quiet strength and, I think you will agree”—she held Miss Bingley’s gaze—“a rare one.”
Miss Bingley frowned and set down her spoon with a touch more care than usual. Her eyes never left Elizabeth’s. "Charles, you really must speak to Mrs. Nicholls about the tea. It is too strong this morning. Too . . . bold."
Miss Bingley had not taken a single sip.
Mrs. Hurst's fan appeared from nowhere, fluttering before her face as though to dispel an unpleasant odour.
"The tea is excellent," Mr. Hurst muttered into his cup.
"You would drink pond water if it had enough sugar in it," his wife replied in a low voice.
After this, Elizabeth was allowed to eat in what passed for peace. She had nearly finished when the door opened and a footman entered with a furrow in his brow.
"Begging your pardon, sir," he addressed Bingley in a low voice, "but the coachman has just been to the bridge to Longbourn, and it is entirely flooded over."
A collective stillness fell across the room.
"I beg your pardon?" Elizabeth asked, her heart sinking into her shoes.
"The river's breached the east bank, miss. The driver said it were rising still. He feared the horses would founder."
Miss Bingley gasped, her hand held to her heart in a perfect picture of theatrical horror. "Flooded? Are we trapped?"
Mr. Hurst paused mid-bite, a rare look of concern crossing his features as he glanced at the brandy decanter on the sideboard, as if calculating whether the house's supply would last through a prolonged confinement.
“This is precisely why we keep a house in London, Charles.” Mrs. Hurst waved her fan twice as quickly as before. “The Thames is always properly managed, not left to the whims of nature like these rural waterways."
Elizabeth was nearly as dismayed as Miss Bingley, though she knew they were not in adangeroussituation. Both Longbourn and Netherfield werebuilt on higher ground for this very reason. The low-lying eastern fields where several of the tenant cottages sat were much closer to the river.
When her father inherited, he had relocated the tenant cottages that he thought too near the river. But with the river rising so high as to impede travel, she expected that even the tenants nearest the river at Longbourn would now be seeking shelter with other families.
They would certainly be moving the women, children, and any valuables out of the potential flood plain. If the situation worsened, the displaced families would be taken in at Longbourn. Mamma had managed such a crisis before and done well, but that had been nearly fifteen years ago. It was frustrating to be confined here when she and Jane ought to be home, helping.
Mr. Bingley stood. "Darcy, you saw the river yesterday—was it rising then?"
"It was not nearly so high," Mr. Darcy said grimly, folding his paper and setting it down on the table. "But with this much rain it would not take long."
"Dear heavens," Miss Bingley breathed. "How unfortunate that this should happen today, just when the house was beginning to recover from the strain of illness."
Mr. Darcy stood and placed his napkin beside his plate before moving to the window.
Mr. Bingley did the same. "It seems your departure shall be delayed, Miss Elizabeth," he said as he stared out at the weather. He was the only one in the room who did not appear in the least distressed by this fact.
Well, Mr. Hurst might not mind. It was difficult to say.
Miss Bingley's eyes flashed with indignation. "How very unexpected."
For heaven’s sake, did the woman expect her to control the weather? Not even the miraculous Mr. Darcy had that sort of power. Elizabeth inclined her head. "I fear we must trespass upon your good will a little longer."
"How long does it generally take for such waters to recede?" Mrs. Hurst asked sharply.
"Darcy, what do you think?” Mr. Bingley inquired. “A day? Two?"
