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Richard shrugged. “We buried him with two other soldiers who had been killed in the battle, and the regiment marched away under a new commanding officer.”
Darcy held his breath, scarcely believing that this could have happened to the well-dressed, civilized man beside him.
Richard’s head turned toward Darcy, but his mind was far away. “You do not know what it is like to be powerless, Will. You sit at Pemberley and deal with everything in black and white, good and bad. Whoever shot that colonel did the world a favor and saved many other lives—and the rest of us concealed it. Maybe we were not guilty of outright lying, but we certainly were guilty of lies of omission. But the truth would have done far more damage than the lie.”
Darcy realized his heart was racing—for no good reason. He took a deep breath, reminding himself he was safe here on Pemberley’s lawn.
“Most of the world does not have the luxury of absolute principles,” Richard continued. “You can afford to be honest all the time when you command your world. But I do not. And your Miss Bennet even less so. I will not judge her for a little dishonesty if it is for the greater good. War is not fought without dishonesty. Soldiers cannot live without it. I suspect women’s lives are the same.”
They were silent for a long moment as Darcy tried to comprehend everything his cousin had told him. “Thank you for sharing your story,” he said at last.
“I know you see Collins as a fellow landowner, but—”
“He is not my ‘fellow’ in any way!” Darcy’s overly loud proclamation startled his cousin. But he had an instinctive revulsion to being compared with that obsequious toad of a man. And yet, was that not Darcy’s objection to Elizabeth’s scheme? She infringed upon the rights of a man who should be beneath Darcy’s notice. A man he would avoid at all costs under other circumstances.
If I find myself taking the part of such a man over that of a woman I know to be decent and kind, perhaps I should reexamine my assumptions.
He hated to admit that he might be wrong, but he was too honest to lie to Richard—or to himself. “Perhaps there is some truth in what you say.”
Richard’s look was piercing. “While you are searching your soul, you might also inquire why you find Miss Bennet’s actions so disturbing.”
“She is a friend—”
“If some other acquaintance had taken a misguided course, it would not have one-tenth the effect. I daresay Bingley could marry a scullery maid and you would not stalk about Pemberley snarling at the servants and growling at your sister.”
Darcy shrugged uncomfortably. “I do feel some responsibility for her family’s situation.”
“Pfft!” Richard laughed. “I do not believe that for a minute.” After watching Darcy for a moment, he spoke in a softer tone. “You need not be honest with me, Darce, but you do need to be honest with yourself.”
Darcy did not know how to respond to that. He readily admitted to his infatuation with Elizabeth, but there was nothing to be done about it. After a long pause, Richard stood. “I think I will go help myself to some of your excellent brandy. War stories always go down more easily with some spirits.”
Darcy watched his cousin wander away. I have never excelled at seeing the world through another person’s eyes. Perhaps that is a bigger character flaw than I previously understood. At Pemberley, he was responsible for all the souls on the estate. Had he been horribly deficient in understanding them?
Small wonder Elizabeth had been so disgusted with him at their last meeting. He should strive to do better for his own sake as well as hers. He should attempt a better understanding of her perspective.
He had hoped a sojourn at Pemberley would help him forget her and her outrageous schemes, but that had proved impossible. Now, as he began to glimpse the world through her eyes, he had a strong suspicion that he would return to Hertfordshire and offer her an apology.
Chapter Thirteen
Elizabeth mended the hem of the dress with small, neat stitches, but her mind was not on her work. Oddly, she often found herself missing Mr. Darcy’s presence, but the Longbourn scheme always provided a welcome distraction. The plans to improve the fortunes of the Longbourn tenants were proceeding very well. The lambs were growing into sheep and would be ready for shearing. The seed drill and use of the new gypsum fertilizer had increased the number and size of the plants; prospects for a good harvest were good. Mr. Greeves had consulted the tenants and determined which cottages needed to be repaired first.
Although much remained to be accomplished, Mrs. Greeves said the tenants had a new sense of optimism. Elizabeth noticed that the tenants joked and laughed more frequently, and many smiled at her or tipped their hats as she passed by.
So far they had managed to maintain secrecy. On the rare occasions when Mr. Collins had shown any interest in the fields, Mr. Greeves and the other farmers had lulled any suspicions and assured him that everything was normal.
If the endeavor caused any harm, it was to Elizabeth’s peace of mind. Upon first conceiving the plan, she had not realized how steadily the constant secrecy would prey upon her thoughts. Forever fearing discovery, she was often agitated in her cousin’s presence. Quite to Elizabeth’s amusement, she now had more compassion for her mother’s nerves.
Elizabeth knew the deception was not sustainable indefinitely. She only hoped they could conceal their actions until after the harvest. If Collins witnessed the results of one successful planting season, he might be inclined to overlook the subterfuge necessary to achieve it.
There was no indication her cousin was anything other than blissfully ignorant. Even now, as Elizabeth sewed, he read to the sisters from Fordyce’s sermons, every once in a while interjecting his own stupid moral observations. Mary was excellent at feigning interest, but Kitty’s eyes were beginning to droop with post-dinner lassitude. Elizabeth was listening and praying that her cousin would soon release them from the tedium so she might retire to the bedchamber she shared with Jane for a quiet hour of reading before sleep.
On the opposite side of the room, Charlotte rocked baby Robert in her arms, apparently listening to her husband’s words. But her eyes were fixed on her son. Elizabeth’s friend had thrown herself into motherhood, devoting far more time to her child’s care than was usual for mothers of their station.
When Collins had expressed a desire for a greater share of his wife’s attentions, Charlotte had calmly replied that they were economizing on the wages for a baby’s nurse. Although Kitty frequently cared for Robert, she did not pass all her time with the baby the way a hired nurse would.
Elizabeth rather suspected Charlotte’s motivation was the opposite of the one she had stated. Charlotte had not insisted on hiring a nurse because she wished to care for the child herself. She doted on the boy, insisting on bedding him in the master bedroom at night despite her husband’s grumbles that it was a peasant’s custom. No doubt Robert’s presence hampered any conjugal activities—which was, Elizabeth conjectured, the effect Charlotte intended.
