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She frowned in confusion. They had never discussed the garden, but she quickly acquiesced with a nod. “Certainly, but it must be a short tour. I am due in the kitchen soon.”
Darcy managed to conceal his wince. She might not be ashamed of laboring in the kitchen, but it still disturbed him.
She led him through Longbourn’s maze of hallways to a back door that opened onto the garden. But she did not even make a perfunctory effort to lead him on a tour. Instead she stood by the closed door and squinted up at him in the bright sunshine. “Was there another subject you wished to discuss?”
“Weston,” Darcy said without preamble. “He is known to me from my aunt’s estate. He is not…a trustworthy man.”
Her breath caught. “I wonder then that Lady Catherine sent him to Longbourn.”
“I do as well, although she has ever been blind to his faults. She may be hoping that gainful employment will encourage him to become a better person, but I have my doubts on that score.”
“Do you believe he will be tempted to steal from Longbourn?” she asked.
He sighed, wishing his concerns were that simple. “No…Not actively, but he is lazy and will not do much to improve the estate.”
She gave a bitter laugh. “Of that we already have ample evidence! Fortunately, I do not believe Longbourn will suffer from his sort of industry.”
No doubt she would find a lazy man easier to fool with her schemes. “However, that is not the greatest danger to your family.” Darcy coughed, considering how to voice his concern delicately. He was not accustomed to discussing such matters with women. “He…seduced many tenants’ daughters at Rosings, leaving at least one with child.”
Elizabeth gasped. “He did not acknowledge the babe?”
“No, although he had promised the girl he would wed her. She was only one of his many ‘conquests.’” He grimaced at the word. “This was one of the reasons my aunt encouraged him to join the army.”
“I thank you for this caution. We will be on our guard.”
Darcy took a step closer. “The idea of his hurting you”—he swallowed—“is intolerable.” Burning with a desire to know if her curls were as soft as they appeared, he brushed the back of his hand over them. “I…need you to be…safe.” They were softer than he had imagined, individual strands of silk. His thumb whispered over her cheek.
She stared up at him…in wonderment? Surprise? At least she was not objecting to his behavior. Her lips were slightly parted, pale pink and soft…inviting. Their heads were so close, a few inches…
Darcy stopped himself, unable to complete the gesture—knowing t
hat it would throw him off a cliff into the unknown.
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth whispered.
He pulled his hand away and stepped back from her. This is wrong. I must not take advantage of a young woman in such a situation. Not when I do not intend to wed her. He was not that sort of man.
He cleared his throat and took another discreet step away from her. “Weston is a dangerous man. You must not simply be on your guard. You must do something, Elizabeth!”
Her face turned stony. “Miss Elizabeth,” she corrected.
“Yes, yes, of course. I beg your pardon, Miss Elizabeth.” Sweat trickled down his face; could he make himself more of a fool?
“What would you have me do?” Elizabeth pinned him with her gaze. “I did not hire him and cannot rid Longbourn of him. We are powerless in this situation.”
Georgiana’s words rang in Darcy’s ears.
“We do our best to protect ourselves,” Elizabeth continued.
Darcy admired the fire in Elizabeth’s eyes. He had no doubt she was quite capable of protecting herself, and the thought of such competence was…very attractive.
He forced himself to focus on the subject of Weston. The women of Longbourn were essentially powerless, as much as it pained Darcy to admit it. He burned with a need to remove Elizabeth and her sisters from this precarious situation, but he could not accomplish that feat. And there was nowhere for them to go. Darcy rubbed a hand over his face. “Perhaps there is something I might do. If I spoke with my aunt…”
The prospect was about as appealing as sticking his hand in boiling water, but he would do nearly anything to assure Elizabeth’s safety. And he did owe his aunt a visit; perhaps if he satisfied that obligation, she would provide assistance.
“I doubt you could accomplish much,” Elizabeth said tartly. “Your aunt listens to nobody.” Before he could respond, she glanced up at the angle of the sun. “I am afraid I am due in the kitchen. A good day to you.”
She gave a shallow curtsey and reentered the house, leaving Darcy alone with a wildly beating heart and the sensation that, yet again, he was letting her down.
