Page 23 of The Briar Bargain
"—the south cottage is near to falling down entirely, sir," one of them was saying as Darcy approached. "All this rain has weakened the foundation something terrible, and Mrs. Lawry and her little ones have nowhere to go."
"The roof of the Millers' barn has been badly damaged," added another. "Most of their winter stores were ruined. They are in desperate need of assistance."
Bingley's expression was grave as he listened to the litany of necessary repairs. "Naturally, we will see to the more immediate needs without delay.” He turned as his friend approached. "Darcy! Just the man I need. You look like you could use some fresh air. ”In Darcy’s experience,just the man I needtypically meantjust the man I intend to saddle with something unpleasant. But this was Bingley. Perhaps it would not be so bad, and in any case, it could not be worse than pacing the halls in the guest wing like a madman. "What assistance is required?"
"Shelter for the Lawrys, food and supplies for the Millers to get them through the next fortnight at least, and repairs to cottages to make them habitable," Bingley said without hesitation. "The estate carpenter can begin work as soon as the weather permits, and we have stores enough to see the families through until they can recover."
"But sir," one of the men ventured hesitantly, "begging your pardon, but the costs . . . some of these repairs will be extensive, and you are only a leaseholder. Should we not wait for word from Mr. Sowell or Mr. Grant?"
Bingley waved off the concern with characteristic generosity. "Nonsense. Mr. Grant will return as soon as the bridges are declared safe, but the need is immediate, and I am here. We will begin the repairs as far as we are able and worry about reimbursements and proper accounting with Mr. Sowelllater. These families cannot wait for polite niceties whilst their families go hungry or sleep in the cold."
Darcy felt a great fondness for his friend. Only Bingley could spend a small fortune with the same cheerfulness he applied to ordering breakfast. The most admirable part was that he meant every bit of it. "Very well," he agreed. "What would you have me do?"
For the next several hours, Darcy threw himself into assisting Bingley with relief efforts. He helped Bingley arrange lodging for displaced families in the last open rooms in the servants’ quarters, supervised the loading of wagons with supplies, and even assisted in carrying furniture and belongings to safe storage. The physical labour was welcome, providing a much-needed outlet for his nervous energy while they worked to alleviate genuine suffering.
As the afternoon wore on, however, Bingley was called away to deal with a dispute regarding property boundaries that had been complicated by the flooding, a matter that required his personal attention as the current master of the estate.
None of this ought to have fallen on Bingley, of course. He was merely a tenant himself. But Mr. Grant, the steward who normally tended to such matters, was away, and Bingley’s dislike of disputes meant that he did not allow them to fester.
Darcy was encouraged. Because Bingley had been so distracted by his interest in Miss Bennet these past weeks, Darcy had begun to wonder whether his friend was truly interested in managing an estate. Now at least he knew that Bingleycoulddo so.
"I fear this may take some time," Bingley said apologetically as he prepared to ride out. "Legal matters and all that. But you have done more than enough, Darcy. Please, feel free to return to the house and rest."
He was grateful for the dismissal. Whilst he had been genuinely glad to help, his thoughts had never strayed far from the woman recovering upstairs. He made his way back to Netherfield with a lighter step than he had possessed that morning, hopeful that word might have come regarding Miss Elizabeth's readiness to receive him.
As he entered the main hall, however, he encountered Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst descending the stairs, dressed for an outing despite the dubious weather.
"Mr. Darcy!" Miss Bingley exclaimed with affected surprise, though he suspected she had been watching for his return. "How fortuitous. We were just discussing the situation with the Bennet sisters."
"Indeed?" Darcy's tone was carefully neutral, though he felt his defences rising.
"Such a dramatic affair," Miss Bingley continued, with a delicate shudder. "Though I suppose one must admire Miss Elizabeth's . . . enthusiasm for rescuing servants and tenants alike."
"Quite,” Mrs. Hurst agreed. “Though she ought to have avoided putting herself in the position of requiring rescue herself. It is one thing to make such a choice for yourself, but when you force others to put themselves at risk for you . . ." She shook her head. “No, it was badly done. But I suppose we could not expect better from a woman who crossed three miles of muddy fields because her sister had a cold.”
"Perhaps," Miss Bingley suggested to her sister with a titter, "it was the hope of drawing someone’s particular attention that clouded her reason. There are people who thrive on creating such spectacles."
Darcy felt his jaw clench, though he was careful to keep his expression impassive. Of course. Miss Elizabeth had orchestrated a deluge, arranged for a child to fall into the river, and then had nearly drowned herself, all in a clever plot to lure him in. Miss Bingley’s real vexation was that othersfound Miss Elizabeth’s actions worthy of admiration. "I believe," he said with deliberate coolness, "that she has acted with remarkable courage and I am certain that she saved young Peter Farrow’s life."
Mrs. Hurst had the grace to look abashed. But Miss Bingley recovered from her surprise quickly, her smile becoming even more cloying and artificial.
"Oh, naturally we admire Miss Elizabeth’sdedicationto others," she said smoothly. "Though one cannot help but wonder at the propriety of the circumstances. How fortunate thatyouwere on hand to preserve her modesty."
The insinuation in her tone made Darcy's blood boil, though he was careful not to show it. "When someone’slifeis at risk, Miss Bingley, propriety can hardly be a primary concern."
"Of course not," Mrs. Hurst agreed hastily, seeming to sense his displeasure. "We merely meant—"
"I understand your meaning perfectly," Darcy interrupted, his voice cutting through her protestations like ice. "Excuse me, I have other matters to attend."
He swept past them without another word. He imagined he had shocked them both, but he could not care. Their opinions had never meant much to him, but their willingness to disparage Miss Elizabeth's character in the face of what she had done was a vulgarity he would not tolerate.
As he climbed the stairs to the family wing, Darcy reflected grimly on how completely his own views had shifted. Not long ago, he had shared their disdain for the Bennet family's want of connexions and fortune. Now, faced with the proof of Miss Elizabeth’s sterling character, such concerns seemed petty and meaningless.
Hehad been petty. Darcy sighed. And not just that. He had been a superior arse.
Not long after he had changed out of his dirty clothes, there was a soft knock on his chamber door. A servant informed him that Miss Elizabeth awaited his presence in the small sitting room between her sister’s bedchamber and her own, whenever it was convenient for him to attend.
Convenient. As though anything else in the world was more important than this summons.
