A Death at Rosings: A Pride & Prejudice Variation (10 page)

“Three or four times a year, I believe.” He also didn’t really want to speak to Elizabeth of his cousin either, though he was pleased she was improving.

“I wanted to leave by now, but I feel I can’t when she is so ill.”

Darcy didn’t want her to leave, at least not until he forced himself to, but felt compelled to say, “She will be cared for.”

She shook her head, not looking convinced. “Mrs. Allen does a good job of seeing that the kitchen is well run, but she pays little attention to Anne and no attention to the overall running of Rosings. We can’t replace all of the people who left Rosings like hens. I’m still collecting eggs because we don’t yet have enough people.”

She blushed beguilingly as she said it, though Darcy couldn’t imagine why. He forced himself to catch up with the conversation at hand, pulling his gaze from her lips. “More can be hired. I can send to London. What is needed?”

“Why don’t I discuss it with everyone and talk to you tomorrow?”

He nodded.

“Will you be able to skip your work here for a morning?” Elizabeth asked. “We can meet in the library after breakfast.”

He nodded again. It wasn’t really breaking his resolution not to position himself to try to meet her each morning. This was entirely different. He wasn’t maneuvering to create a chance to speak to her alone, but rather agreeing to her plan.

She smiled at him, obviously unaware of how she affected him. “Thank you. Until dinner, then, Mr. Darcy.” She dropped another curtsy.

“Miss Bennet,” he said, bowing. Then she was walking away, the wind sending her hem dancing about her boots and her hair blowing forward into a face he couldn’t see with her back turned, but could unerringly picture. Darcy leaned against the stable wall and watched her go.

Chapter Ten

After gathering the eggs, Elizabeth walked quickly back toward the house. She had the oddest sensation that Mr. Darcy was watching her, but didn’t turn to look. If he was, the way the wayward wind was blowing her dress against her backside would make meeting his gaze insufferably embarrassing. She yanked at her skirt with her free hand, though it didn’t seem to do any good, and hoped he’d returned to his work long since.

Not that he’d really seemed to be working. Yes, he had his coat and cravat off and his shirtsleeves rolled up in that way he’d taken to of late, a state of half dress that did unacceptable things to her ability to think properly. He’d no pitchfork, brush, or any other tools for various horse related tasks about him, though. It was almost as if he’d simply been standing there waiting for her, which was ridiculous. With all that needed to be done to keep Rosings going, Mr. Darcy had too much to do to wait half the morning for a few words with her about chickens.

She entered the bustling kitchen, her mind still on Mr. Darcy as he’d been in the stable yard, dark hair tousled by the wind. He had no right to go standing around the yard in his shirtsleeves, his hair in disarray, where any young miss could see him. Though he was often a bit grim and reserved, surely he couldn’t be unaware of how appealing he was, and she did not mean for his station or income. Why, standing in the yard like that, still unwed, was nearly irresponsible.

“Elizabeth,” Mrs. Allen said, startling Elizabeth back into the moment. “Thank you, dear. It’s kind of you to take this task on yourself. We do need every bit of help we can find to keep this kitchen running as it should.”

In fact, Mrs. Allen need not be in the kitchen now that they’d hired a cook, but Elizabeth would never say as much unless the cook protested. It made the widow too happy to be there to rob her of it. “It’s no trouble at all,” Elizabeth said.

To her chagrin, she had to battle down another blush as she spoke. She felt guilty accepting praise when she knew the only reason she took on the task was to have chance conversations with Mr. Darcy. Worse, she’d somehow felt compelled to lie to him about why she was doing it, in case he suspected, which had only embarrassed her.

Elizabeth handed over the eggs and hurried from the kitchen, displeased with her inner turmoil. She did not, she reminded herself, harbor any ardent feelings for Mr. Darcy. He was highhanded. He was pompous. He’d never apologized for thinking so little of her station and family, or for breaking up Bingley and Jane. None of his crimes had changed.

Though, she respected him now, as she never had before. Not just because of the truths in his letter, but because of his recent actions. Much as she bemoaned the enticing appearance he’d adopted as he saw to farmyard tasks, she was impressed with his willingness to take them on.

Who would have thought that the lofty gentleman who hadn’t found her, or any other woman in Hertfordshire, handsome enough to dance with, would be working in a stable of his own free will? Why, where was the condescension now? The aloof arrogance that had so turned her against him from the start? If Miss Bingley could see Mr. Darcy this way she would be horrified, yet every moment Elizabeth spent in his presence warmed her toward him more.

She sighed, then glanced quickly about the hall she walked to make sure no one had observed her. It wouldn’t do for anyone to think she was mooning over some gentleman. Especially since she most assuredly was not. His offenses still remained, she reminded herself, listing them again for good measure.

Elizabeth took a moment to collect herself, forcefully setting aside images of Mr. Darcy looking warm and approachable, and made her way to Anne’s room. Before her meeting with Mr. Darcy, she wanted to ask Anne’s opinion about additional servants. She didn’t think Anne would volunteer one, but had been trying to get the mistress of Rosings to take more of an interest in her estate.

Elizabeth knocked on Anne’s door. She could hear Kitty within, reading aloud. Waiting for the maid to answer, Elizabeth was unable to help glancing at the entrance to her own room. That conjured up an image of Mr. Darcy as he’d been the night he arrived in Rosings, his eyes dark with appreciation before he came to his senses and left her chamber. Had he still wished to wed her, he could have easily made the incident public and possibly forcing her to marry him. Of course, Mr. Darcy was not a man to do such a thing.

Anne’s newly appointed personal maid opened the door Elizabeth stood at, securing her attention. “Yes, miss?”

“Is Miss de Bourgh seeing visitors?”

“I’ll ask, miss.”

The girl disappeared behind the closed door, but it reopened almost immediately.

“She says she’s happy to receive you, miss,” the maid said, backing into the room with a curtsy.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.

Anne’s ruffle-bedecked chamber wasn’t as stuffy as usual; the curtains thrown wide and the windows cracked open. Elizabeth was pleased to see that, for she privately thought that a lack of sunshine and healthy fresh air was part of Anne’s trouble. As often happened, Kitty was sitting in a chair holding a book. What was unusual of late was that Miss de Bourgh was sitting up in bed, propped up by pillows.

“What are you reading?” Elizabeth asked, smiling at them.

“It’s called
The Mysterious Hand
and it was written by Augustus Jacob Crandolph,” Kitty said. “There’s an exciting scene that takes place on a balloon ride. Count Egfryd is really frightening.”

“That doesn’t sound like a book from Rosings’ library,” Elizabeth said, amused by Kitty’s enthusiasm.

“It wasn’t, but it will be now,” Anne said. “I ordered it and some others from London after Mother died. I’m glad I did. Kitty enjoys books with a bit of adventure in them, and I find it’s more fun to read when I share it with someone.”

“I love it,” Kitty said. “It’s even better than
The Mysteries of Udolpho
. I read that when Miss de Bourgh was sleeping. She’s already read it.” She gestured to the table beside her.

Elizabeth saw three other books there as well, in addition to a slightly worn looking copy of
Mysteries of Udolpho
. There was
The
Life of Samuel Johnson,
a book of poems called
Lyrical Ballads,
and a dictionary of the birds of Kent. “You’ve been reading about birds?” Elizabeth asked Kitty. That one hadn’t come up during dinner yet.

“Miss de Bourgh says that every time I read a novel I should read something that isn’t a novel. I don’t like that one,” she said wrinkling her nose at the bird book. “The others were kind of interesting.”

“Papa has books at home,” Elizabeth said.

“I never wanted to read them. Lydia wasn’t interested in reading,” Kitty said.

“As I said, it’s more entertaining when you read them with someone,” Anne reiterated, smiling at Kitty encouragingly.

Usually, Elizabeth bemoaned that Kitty was a follower, seemingly unable to think for herself and dragged along on every inane idea that popped into Lydia’s head. Now, she saw that trait could be turned into an advantage for her younger sister. In following Anne, she’d selected a much better role model. Perhaps, if they could see her wed to a reasonable gentleman, she would follow him into a pleasant life, free of silliness and rudeness.

“I’m sure Miss de Bourgh is entirely correct in both her recommendation and declaration,” Elizabeth said. “Perhaps, if we took a walk sometime so that you could see some of the birds you’ve been reading about, you may even come to appreciate that book.”

“Maybe,” Kitty said, scrunching up her nose again. “Are you going to stay long? I do so want to find out what happens at the end of this actually interesting book.”

“No, not long,” Elizabeth said. She shook her head at Kitty’s manners. Well, Anne’s good influence couldn’t be expected to change Kitty entirely. “I came to ask Miss de Bourgh a question about the servants.”

“Oh,” Anne said, sinking down into her bed. “I’m sure you know the answer better than I do.”

“It’s a matter of preference,” Elizabeth said. “Your preference, so no one can know it as well as you. Mr. Darcy is going to send to London for more servants. I didn’t know if you wished to restaff to the extent your mother kept.”

“I don’t know,” Anne said. She seemed almost to shrink. “She did have so very many servants. One couldn’t breathe sometimes. I know Rosings has a certain image to maintain.”

“Rosings is yours now,” Elizabeth said in a gentle tone. “Rosings’ image is whatever you wish it to be.”

“I simply can’t make decisions like this,” Anne said. “I don’t feel well. Kitty, could you please latch the windows? The air is too chilly.”

“Yes, Miss de Bourgh,” Kitty said. She set aside the book, glaring at Elizabeth, and jumped up to go close the windows.

Elizabeth sighed. “It isn’t a decision that will affect anything,” she said softly, so Kitty might not hear. “You can’t make an incorrect choice in this. I won’t let you have too few servants or too many. I just desire to know your feelings on the matter.”

“Really, you will have to decide,” Anne said. She draped the back of her hand across her forehead, closing her eyes. “I trust you implicitly, Elizabeth. I need to sleep now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth said, trying to keep her annoyance from her tone. She curtsied, though Anne’s eyes were still closed, and left the room. Kitty followed her out on soft feet.

“I hope you don’t bother Miss de Bourgh too much about the servants,” Kitty said, glaring at her. “You’ve upset her terribly.”

“Rosings need a proper staff and Miss de Bourgh should be aware of that, at the least,” Elizabeth said. She drew Kitty away from the door, in case Anne’s new maid was listening. “Why, her new maid is so green, she likely doesn’t even know how to properly arrange Miss de Bourgh’s hair for a dinner party, let alone how to help her select garments. As mistress of Rosings, Anne requires a tutored level of service.”

Kitty set her lips in a mutinous line. “I have been teaching Miss de Bourgh’s maid and assisting Miss de Bourgh. I don’t only read to her. I take care of her.”

“That’s good of you,” Elizabeth said, relinquishing the argument. She’d focused on the maid as an example of the situation with the staff, not the only issue. There was no real point in trying to convince Kitty that more servants were needed, though. Obviously, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy would have to make such decisions.

“It’s odd to say, as it seems like it should be a trial to spend all day helping someone and reading to them, but I enjoy it,” Kitty said.

“That’s good of you too,” Elizabeth said.

“You know, Lizzy, I never felt useful at home. I was always the person who was most often ill and people had to help me and I could tell that for you and Jane and Mama and Papa, I was just in the way. Now I know someone who is really ill and I’m helping her, and I’m not in the way at all.”

“Oh, Kitty,” Elizabeth said, filled with distress at her sister’s interpretation of their actions toward her, and guilt at the mildly accurate content of that interpretation. “You were never in the way.”

“I was, to everyone but Lydia,” Kitty said. “Only, the older we get, the more in the way I am to her, too. She didn’t want me to get to go with her to Brighton. She was happy I wasn’t invited. No one wants their coughing sister in the way of their enjoyment.”

“I can’t speak for Lydia,” Elizabeth said. “I, for one, am very happy you’ve come here. You’re a tremendous help to Miss de Bourgh and that means you’re helping all of Rosings.”

Kitty blinked, looking surprised by Elizabeth’s vehemence. “It’s nice to feel like I’m helping,” she said. A grin split her face. “Did I tell you, Lizzy,
Miss de Bourgh let me have another one of her dresses? I have to add a bit to the hem, but she’s given me some beautiful lace to do that with. It’s too bad you have to remake Lady Catherine’s dresses completely because they’re so large for you. Miss de Bourgh’s are much nearer your size. You’d only have to take them in a bit at the bosom. Maybe if you didn’t pester
her so much about servants, she would like you well enough to give you one of her gowns.”

Elizabeth shook her head. No, she couldn’t expect Anne to have changed Kitty completely. Still, it seemed her sister was benefiting more from her association with Miss de Bourgh than Elizabeth ever would have expected. If for no other reason than to thank her for her influence on Kitty, Elizabeth supposed she could stay a bit longer and make a few more decisions about servants.