Page 43 of The Longbourn Bloodline

Elizabeth looked at her sister—steady, gentle, patient Jane, who had absorbed the news of her own inheritance with more concern for Elizabeth than for herself—and the ache in her chest gave way, a tightness releasing.

“No,” she whispered. “Not entirely.”

Jane did not press. She understood why Elizabeth had disliked Darcy and yet been drawn to him, telling herself she only wished to argue or contend with him, while remembering the steadying hand, the handkerchief, the small touches, the ways he noticed her and sought her comfort and understanding.

And the hat he had lifted in farewell.

“Would you walk with me?” Elizabeth asked after a long, aching pause. “To the tenant farms. It is St. Thomas’s Day, and we ought to bring baskets. And if you are to be the heir of Longbourn, the tenants should know their future mistress.”

Jane’s expression softened. “I should like that very much.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

AN INK BLOT

Elizabeth and Jane followed the donkey cart, lurching clumsily over the frozen cart-tracks on the path leading to the tenant farms. The last time Elizabeth had come this way, she had Mr. Darcy at her side, and she had been full of resentment at having to guide the future master of Longbourn.

Now, she had her dearest sister beside her and a gaping hole at how thoroughly she had misunderstood that man—well, perhaps not entirely, because he remained the high-handed aristocrat who had persuaded Bingley that Hertfordshire was not elevated enough for him.

“Would you have done it differently?” Jane was asking as she stepped over a root. “If it were your dearest friend contemplating an alliance within a society where he might not be entirely welcomed or appreciated?”

Elizabeth steadied her sister, realizing she had been complaining about Darcy’s advice to Bingley without consideration of Jane’s feelings.

“That is scarcely the point,” she retorted. “He decided that our society would not fit Bingley’s aspirations of becoming the prominent family here and advised him to return to London.”

“Yet his primary argument, if I recall your own indignant recounting correctly, was that everyone in the neighborhood hated him because he insulted you at the Meryton assembly.”

“He was rude and ungentlemanly to comment about my appearance.”

“True, but Lizzy, had you been more… discreet in your repetition of his words, the neighborhood might not have taken such lasting offense. I do not excuse him for he was insufferably rude, but perhaps the wound need not have been exposed quite so publicly.”

“Then you agree that Darcy lays the entire burden of Bingley’s flight upon my shoulders.” Elizabeth caught one of the baskets that tilted from the donkey cart while the groom, Gerald, lifted the mired wheel to clear an icy patch.

“Lizzy, whatever he has done in the past, and we have all said things we regret, his giving up the entail is perhaps the most noble thing he has done for our family.” Jane put a calming hand over her. “And he asks for nothing in return. Is that true?”

Even her own sister found it difficult to credit Darcy with seeking no hidden advantage. But Elizabeth had been there. She had witnessed the hope extinguishing from his eyes when she had merely nodded, followed by his stiff and correct bow as he retreated from the small parlor.

“He truly wishes for nothing other than perhaps my good opinion.” Elizabeth pulled her cloak against the wind which started to stir. “We’d better get to the tenant farms before the weather turns.”

The fields stretched bare around them, the hedgerows stark against the grey sky, and the morning felt emptier than it should have, as though something essential had been removed from the landscape overnight.

Jane consulted the list Elizabeth had prepared. “I shall need to memorize these names. The Turners first, then the Hendersons, the Fosters, and the Millers. Widow Pratt last. You said she might offer tea?”

“She has little else to give, and so she gives hospitality.” Elizabeth counted the baskets in the cart: flour, sugar, tins of tea, coins wrapped in cloth, ham, jars of preserves, and twists of peppermint for the children. “The Millers will be anxious to show us the baby. He was so ill when last I visited. The fever would not break, and I feared the worst.”

“But he recovered?”

“Yes, Mr. Jones says the crisis has passed. Darcy had paid for his visits from his private purse. He said we might consider a small fund to set aside for such purposes.”

“So we would need to add these to our budget, should our revenues permit.”

“The improvements and repairs should increase the crop yields, according to Darcy, and allow the tenants to keep more of the profits as well as pay their rents on time.”

“You seemed to have learned a lot from Mr. Darcy.”

“Yes.” Elizabeth did not wish to acknowledge it, but she must. “He did impart his vast knowledge on me, but the truth is, I had done a barely adequate job these three years after the last steward left, and Papa had no interest.”

“Do you continue to resent Mr. Darcy for tutoring you? For sending the masters and Mrs. Beaumont?” Jane waved her hands as they approached the cottages. “For the repairs and renovations, done on his own coin?”