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A halfway competent steward would already have guessed something was amiss. Weston spent hours riding about Longbourn, speaking to the tenants with the air of a man who possessed great authority and knowledge. But Mr. Greeves related that his instructions usually amounted to, “Very good. Carry on.” Organizing the estate’s activities still fell to the tenants.
When he was not riding about the estate, Weston could be found smoking his pipe in the drawing room, drinking Collins’s brandy (with or without Collins), and reading the racing reports. Elizabeth found this behavior quite curious; most stewards she had encountered were industrious and knowledgeable gentlemen. But then she recalled that this steward had arrived with the endorsement of the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Perhaps that explained his ineptitude.
Apparently, Lady Catherine was acquainted with Weston because his father had been Rosings Park’s steward for many years. But after a week’s residence at Longbourn, Weston had demonstrated that he had little experience as a steward himself. Mr. Greeves reported that the man had a basic knowledge of farming but knew little of the specifics, so he was pleased to leave most of the work to the tenants.
Indeed, Weston’s past was a bit of a mystery. He had been in the regulars, but his exit from the army had been rather abrupt. Lady Catherine had vouched for him, but Elizabeth was beginning to suspect the woman had wanted to keep her steward happy—short of employing Weston herself. Collins had been pleased the man was willing to accept low wages—perhaps without realizing he was receiving a commensurate amount of labor in exchange.
Elizabeth most feared discovery of the seed drill. Covered with a tarpaulin, the device was currently stored in a shed near the west field—hardly a secure location.
Mr. and Mrs. Fletcher, tenants with no children, had volunteered to store the device in a corner of their cottage, where the steward was unlikely to venture. But moving it would require the cover of darkness, the help of several men, and the use of a wagon. Mr. Greeves had not yet managed the feat. Once it was better concealed, Elizabeth would rest a little easier.
Often when Elizabeth was endeavoring to forget her anxieties, she tried to direct her thoughts toward other subjects. Surprisingly, nothing so thoroughly distracted her as Mr. Darcy.
At first she tried to put aside such musings. He would come and go as he pleased, she told herself, and they might never again see him in Hertfordshire. He was nothing to her, and she should forget him.
And yet she often found herself wondering what he was doing and where he was. Did he think of her? And if he did, was it with fondness or frustration? She regretted the nature of their parting and wished she had used less intemperate language. Although she believed in the righteousness of her actions, Mr. Darcy’s condemnation returned to haunt her again and again.
At other times she found herself indulging in foolish flights of fancy. Perhaps he was, at that moment, gazing out of a very grand window at Pemberley. But while his eyes were fixed on an elegant formal garden, he could only think of her. I am being silly; no doubt he forgot me the moment he quitted Hertfordshire.
Although he was constantly in her thoughts, nothing prepared Elizabeth for Mr. Darcy’s sudden appearance ten days after Mr. Weston’s arrival at Longbourn.
She was in front of the manor, tending to some flowering shrubs, when he rode up on his horse. Without any time to prepare, she was forced to greet him with a soiled apron over her dress. It is fortunate indeed that I do not seek his good opinion.
He dismounted and bowed. “Miss Elizabeth.”
Her heart was leaping inside her chest like an enthusiastic puppy. Goodness, am I that starved for company outside my family? But she managed to curtsey gracefully. “Mr. Darcy.”
There was a long pause while Elizabeth waited for him to declare the purpose of his visit. Was this merely a social call? Did he have some manner of business with Collins? Had he located Lydia? Was he planning to reveal her schemes to Collins?
Mr. Darcy glanced away and then back, moistening his lips. “I must…apologize…for the way we parted when last I was in Hertfordshire.”
This was the last thing she expected to hear from him. She never imagined that her esteem was of sufficient importance that he would seek her forgiveness. Her heart was flooded with warmth for a man who was willing to make such a declaration.
Now he was staring at the toes of his boots. “I said some ill-considered
things without entertaining the slightest notion of your perspective. I am, as my cousin and sister have recently reminded me, too apt to see the world from the viewpoint of a landowner. Upon further reflection, I realize that you must be in a very difficult position at Longbourn and face impossible choices. I should not have cast judgment.”
Elizabeth had barely recovered her powers of speech, but he seemed to expect a response—which occasioned a jolt of anxiety. How could any words of hers equal such an unexpected and nakedly sincere declaration? “I…thank you for that very pretty apology, Mr. Darcy. I do not believe you have as much to apologize for as you seem to believe, but I am pleased to accept. I very much appreciate your efforts to understand my perspective.”
A tightness in his shoulders seemed to loosen. Did her approval mean so much to him? She could not fathom why.
“We are still friends?” he asked with a deeply furrowed brow.
Was “friendship” the most apt word to describe their previous acquaintance? But Elizabeth could not deny her positive feelings toward him. “Of course. A single disagreement could hardly cause much damage.”
Mr. Darcy’s whole body sagged as if he had won a reprieve from the gallows.
“Surely you did not travel all the way from Derbyshire simply to beg my pardon?” she said.
His eyes examined the shrubbery, the house, the front entrance…everything except Elizabeth herself. “Er…no, of course not. I was hoping I might offer you my assistance…in any small way I might.”
“Your…assistance?”
“As I said before, I would like to help your family since the present situation is partially of my making. The operation of an estate is an area with which I have some experience.”
Was the man who abhorred deceit offering to help her fool her cousin? The man never ceased to amaze her.
As he continued, his expression was far more uncertain than she would expect for the master of Pemberley. “Should you have the need of any advice about agriculture or management…”
