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Darcy bit his lip against a sharp retort. Agricultural researchers had determined that seed drills could increase crop yields as much as twenty-five percent.

While Collins’s ignorance did not surprise Darcy, he was perplexed why the man did not know he possessed the seed drill that Darcy had most definitely noticed earlier in the day. But Elizabeth was watching him anxiously, and arguing did not appear to be in anyone’s interests.

“Ah.” Darcy nodded. “Perhaps I was mistaken. It must have been something else that resembled a seed drill.” Elizabeth gulped some wine and settled back into her chair. Such odd behavior!

“Indeed, indeed,” Collins agreed amiably.

“Did you make many alterations to the estate when you took possession?” Darcy inquired. Some of the fields were being cultivated with turnips or clover, a sure sign that Longbourn now practiced four-crop rotation—which he did not recall noticing when Bennet was alive.

Elizabeth had not taken up her fork again but watched their conversation warily.

Collins patted his stomach with a self-satisfied air. “There has been little need for change, except in the management of the tenants. Bennet was a good deal too lax with them, just as he was too lax in raising his daughters.” He gestured toward his cousins. “I raised the rents at once, and that has spurred greater industry.”

Darcy said nothing, but Collins did not require any encouragement.

“Lady Catherine condescended to visit Longbourn when I first took possession and bestowed a great deal of most valuable advice upon me. She admonished that above all I should not allow the tenants to take advantage of me.”

Darcy rubbed his forehead, where he sensed a headache forming. “My aunt has not always enjoyed the best relations with her own tenants. Perhaps she should not be your sole source of counsel.”

Collins waved this away. “Naturally, you do things differently at Pemberley, in keeping with your father’s traditions. But I always follow Lady Catherine’s admonitions to the letter.” He absently patted his wife’s hand and repeated, “To the letter.”

Mrs. Collins colored and soon withdrew her hand so she could cut her meat. Darcy was heartened to see that she had not completely forsaken the capacity to recognize sheer stupidity.

Leaning forward in his chair, Collins spoke loudly to catch Georgiana’s attention. “I pray you, tell me, Miss Darcy, what are the latest amusements in London? My darling wife and I hope to be in town soon.”

A startled Georgiana broke off her conversation with the other girls. “I cannot say. We were in London for such a short time.”

“But surely other young ladies have spoken of their amusements,” Collins said with a creepy smile. “Be so good as to tell me what they would recommend.”

Georgiana stammered a reply. “I really do not know—”

Darcy jumped in. “I hear there is a new comedy at the Drury Lane Theatre, The Parson’s Mousetrap.”

“Indeed?” Collins settled back with his hands over a midsection that had expanded in recent years. “What do you hear about it?”

Darcy strained to recall what he had read about the play in the paper, but he was able to keep the discussion on the subject of London for the remainder of the meal. Nothing else occurred that disturbed Elizabeth and Jane’s equanimity. Nonetheless, Darcy was beginning to notice a pattern of odd incidents. Was there something afoot at Longbourn?

***

Mr. Darcy’s behavior puzzled Elizabeth of late. He had nearly kissed her on the terrace and yet was disinclined to speak with her at dinner. He had sought her out as a dance partner but had redirected all her conversational gambits toward his sister. Nor could she fathom why he had brought the girl to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth’s disgraced family would not be the sort he wanted his sister to acquaint herself with.

However, after the men had rejoined the ladies following dinner, Mr. Darcy had obtained a seat near Elizabeth’s in a quiet corner of the room. At a moment when the general discussion was quite boisterous, he had confided in Elizabeth that his sister had seemed troubled of late. Furthermore, he had expressed his hope that Elizabeth might speak with Miss Darcy and nearly begged her to provide what assistance she could.

Elizabeth would not have been inclined to reject such a heartfelt plea, but Mr. Darcy’s obvious distress over his sister was quite moving and she had readily agreed. Accordingly, she had walked to Netherfield the next day, puzzling over Mr. Darcy’s behavior the whole time.

However, upon arriving at the house, she did not encounter Mr. Darcy at all. His sister had shyly invited Elizabeth to join her for a walk in the manor’s garden.

Speaking of the flowers and weather, they strolled about the rather overgrown garden at Netherfield, which had clearly been neglected during Mr. Bingley’s absence. Abruptly, Miss Darcy asked if they might sit on one of the stone benches.

Elizabeth said nothing, merely waiting while Miss Darcy’s hands twisted miserably in her lap and she stared resolutely at the tips of her slippers. Finally, she said, “I am sorry my brother has troubled you, Miss Bennet. I do not believe you can help me.”

“Why do you not let me be the judge of that?” Elizabeth responded. “And please call me Elizabeth.”

This won her a shy smile. “If you will call me Georgiana.”

Elizabeth nodded, but nothing more was forthcoming from the younger woman. Finally, Elizabeth said, “Your brother told me little, save that he believed you were troubled by something concerning your coming out and Mr. Wickham.”

Georgiana flinched at the man’s name and nodded.

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