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The steward grimaced. “Well enough, thank you. I had a trying day; hopefully tomorrow will be better.”
“Is there anything we might do to help?” Jane asked. Her eldest sister was far too nice.
Weston ran both hands through his blond hair, further disheveling it. “I experienced a series of mishaps…an unfortunate accident in the mud.” He shot Elizabeth a baleful glare; she attempted to appear chagrined. If he bore her a grudge, so much the better. He did not appear to suspect any deceit on her part; he was the sort of person who would berate another for their clumsiness.
Weston cleared his throat. “Then when Mr. Collins and I walked to the East Field shed to see a particular piece of equipment, it had disappeared!”
Elizabeth bowed her head over her embroidery so immense relief would not show on her features.
“Oh my goodness!” Jane had no notion of the activity with the seed drill; her surprise was authentic. “What were you in search of?”
Weston scowled. “It was a piece of equipment of a type I had not seen before. When I returned with Mr. Collins, there was naught under the tarp save an old spinning wheel.” Thank God, the steward did not recognize the seed drill. That would have increased his suspicions.
“Perhaps someone had taken it from the shed to use,” Jane said reasonably.
“I asked all the tenants in the area, and none of them had seen it,” the steward said through gritted teeth.
“How extraordinary!” Jane exclaimed. “Do you believe it was stolen?”
Collins snorted. “Stolen? More likely it was never there from the start. The interior of the shed is dim. Mr. Weston must have mistaken the spinning wheel for something else.” This was clearly a continuation of an earlier disagreement, and their cousin was not pleased that Weston had taken him on a wild goose chase.
“That is not possible,” Weston said, raising his chin. “I think I would recognize a spinning wheel! This machine was much larger and a completely different shape.”
“You did say it had a wheel-like structure,” Collins pointed out tendentiously. He was obviously not pleased that the steward was pursuing the subject. Elizabeth watched with glee. Apparently, an unintended effect of their scheme was to drive a wedge between Collins and Weston.
“Someone must have entered the shed and substituted the spinning wheel for the unknown machine,” Weston growled.
“Why would anyone do such a thing?” Kitty asked.
“I do not know.” The muscles in Weston’s jaw moved as he ground his teeth.
“We rarely have pieces of equipment move about the estate,” Mary said in her most pedantic tone. “In fact, I cannot recall that it ever happened before. Can you, Lizzy?”
Elizabeth longed to kick her sister. Was she trying to make her laugh? Biting the inside of her cheek, Elizabeth said, “No, I recall nothing of that sort.”
“Perhaps it will yet appear,” Jane said in a conciliatory tone.
“If it ever existed,” Collins said with a scowl.
Weston stood abruptly. “I feel a headache coming on. I must bid you all goodnight.” He strode quite forcefully to the door and was gone.
Elizabeth exchanged conspiratorial glances with her sisters. Mary managed to maintain her pious air, and Jane continued to appear mildly concerned. But Kitty was having difficulty containing her giggles—and infecting Elizabeth with the same ailment.
Well, if she must smile, Elizabeth should at least provide an excuse for it. “I pray you, let me tell you this amusing story I heard from Polly today…”
***
Darcy might be sick. His stomach roiled with nausea, and he tasted bile in his mouth. He tried to slow his breathing so that his heart would not pound so loudly. He had not partaken of any dinner and had retired early for the night. But he had passed the evening pacing the floor and staring out of the window. Try as he might, he could not erase from his mind the image of what he had seen earlier in the day.
That morning he had arisen from Netherfield and spent hours wrestling with his conscience. He had resolved to visit Longbourn in hopes of a private conversation with Elizabeth. Something had passed between them—some sort of understanding—and he did not believe he could pretend indifference in her presence any longer.
After a night spent wandering Netherfield’s halls, Darcy was at once exhausted and filled with nervous energy. I could have kissed her
right there in the garden. I almost did. A thousand times he had imagined how that kiss would have proceeded if he had not stopped himself.
He slept a few hours in the early morning and ate a meager breakfast, finally determining that he must see Elizabeth. He was not sure what he would say when he saw her. But he could no more stay away from her than an unmoored boat could resist the outgoing tide.
Upon dismounting at Longbourn Manor, he had discovered the door was locked and a maid was diligently cleaning the front hall. Darcy had shrugged and proceeded to the back door. Elizabeth was more likely to be found in the kitchen anyway.
