Page 15 of The Blackmail of Mr. Darcy
Hastily dressing, Darcy left to inspect the kitchen, hoping he could help Bingley. Darcy had never leased a property and wondered about the role of the leaseholder in authorising repairs.
He hoped that Bingley had slept off his drunken stupor of the night before. He had certainly seen his friend in an inebriated state a few times, in the past, but he wondered if last night was unusual—and downright unlucky, to be so foxed the night a fire broke out!—or if it was a common occurrence.
Hurst, not Bingley, was the one who had a reputation for drunkenness. And he had been fully alert the night before, had dealt with his wife and sister-in-law, and had helped with the buckets.
Darcy found the kitchen full of servants cleaning rather than cooking. He strode over to the housekeeper, Mrs. Nicholls. “Good morning,” he said, “is Mr. Bingley awake?”
“I’ve heard that he’s still abed, sleeping, sir,” she said.
“I am wondering if we can get a hold of the owner of Netherfield Park, madam. Do you know if there is a procedure to follow in order to get in touch with him?”
Mrs. Nicholls nodded. “Aye, there is, sir. Everything’s to go through Mr. Philips, the solicitor that handles the leasing.”
Darcy remembered the Philips house, near the centre of the town. He thanked Mrs. Nicholls for the information and then consulted with Mr. Tomkins, the steward of the estate, to learn the extent of the fire’s damage and whether the cause of thefire had yet been determined. Tomkins was quite certain that an improperly banked kitchen fire was the cause.
Walking back to where Mrs. Nicholls was inspecting the efforts to clean the soot-stained walls, Darcy asked her to convey to Mr. Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Miss Darcy, when they awoke, that he had gone to Meryton to consult with Mr. Philips. “Might I send back some goods from the bakery to feed everyone?”
The woman smiled widely. “That’d be a godsend, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Darcy arranged for one of his footmen, John, to ride with him in order to quickly bring back baked goods. They made sure that John’s mount had the largest saddlebags available.
Just before mounting his own steed, Gulliver, Darcy was addressed by a voice he was coming to know very well. Miss Elizabeth Bennet said, “Mrs. Nicholls told me that you are going to visit Mr. Philips and the bakery. Is there anything I should be doing for the household? Make a list of damages, perhaps? Set up a station for coffee and tea in one of the unaffected areas?”
Darcy turned towards her with a bow. “Those are both excellent suggestions, I thank you. I suggest enlisting Mrs. Nicholls’s help setting up the station for hot beverages, and then asking one of the maids to tend to it. At that point, you might offer your services to Mr. Tomkins, the steward. He could probably use all the help he can get this morning.”
“Very good,” she said. She was already turning away, obviously intent on making herself useful. He watched her until she disappeared into the house. Darcy took a deep breath, then mounted Gulliver, nodded to John, and set off for Meryton.
Darcy returnedto Netherfield more than an hour later. Mrs. Nicholls reported that the servants were well satisfied with the baked goods he had sent, along with tea and coffee. Darcy watched as Tomkins supervised the organisation of items that needed replacing, those that needed repair, and those that only needed cleaning. Miss Elizabeth recorded the items in each group, while a young boy and two maids carried the various items to the appropriate areas: a wagon, a large toolshed with a workbench, or a grassy area in the stableyard, where wash tubs were set up. Servants were already hard at work cleaning and repairing those things that could be restored.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said after she had finished writing Tomkins’s determination about the ale muller—it merely needed to be cleaned—“do you wish me to take over for you, here, so that you can tend to your sister? I hope last night’s chilly disruption has not worsened her illness.”
“Thank you for your concern. So far, she seems no better but also no worse. Jane ate breakfast, thanks to your efforts to feed us all, and Molly and Susan are continuing to take turns whenever I am not in the room.” Elizabeth lowered her voice to a whisper and said, “Neither of them can write, sir, so Jane says that this arrangement is best for now.”
He nodded and then turned to Tomkins. “Have you seen either of the Hursts or the Bingleys this morning?”
“Still abed,” was his terse response. Then he directed Elizabeth to include the sugar tongs and toasting forks to the list of items that needed cleaning.
Deciding to check in with his sister, Darcy peeked into the morning room and saw Georgiana sitting at a table, an empty plate and cup near to hand, writing a letter.
“What are you doing, Poppet?” he asked.
She turned to him with a radiant smile. “William! I am writing a note to Longbourn at Elizabeth’s request. She thinksthat her mother and their cook would be happy to bring a luncheon to Netherfield for all the residents and servants.”
Darcy said, “That is a wonderful offer from Miss Elizabeth. She is even now working hard with the staff, providing her assistance. I am not sure any of the family actually leasing the property are doing anything at all this morning.”
Georgiana raised her eyes to the ceiling and then looked back down at him with a pretended grimace. “This is hardly unexpected,” she mumbled, but then she smiled again and said, “What ought I do after I am done with this task?”
“You could check in on Miss Bennet and see if the maid on duty needs help. I know Miss Elizabeth would welcome getting an update on her sister’s condition, as well. And please let me know if Miss Bennet needs the apothecary.”
Darcy helped himself to two rolls and a cup of coffee, and he mentally reviewed the list of duties he would have in case of a fire at one of his properties. He decided that, for now, he could turn to the problem of who wrote the note that had been pushed under his bedroom door.
First, he fetched the note from his bedroom, and then he interviewed Ryles, who was in his dressing room, attempting to clean Darcy’s soot-smudged clothing. After checking on his valet’s well-being, and being assured that the man had eaten breakfast and had only a few aches from fighting the fire, Darcy asked, “This morning, did you see this paper lying on the carpet in my bedchamber, just inside the door?”
Ryles looked astonished and assured him that he had not seen it. “And I certainly would have, if it had been there!” he assured Darcy.
“What time this morning were you last in that room?
“At half past six, sir.”
