He scowled. “Of course, I care! I…I will offer her shelter at Pemberley if she will take it. We have a cottage she could use, and I would not evict her.”
He made her ashamed of her anger. Elizabeth took a deep breath. “Thank you. I will extend that offer, although I do not know if she wants to go so far from Hertfordshire.”
“At least if her family is gone, Collins will have less reason to banish you from Longbourn.”
“Better that I am evicted than the Wileys. At least I have family who will shelter me, or I might become a governess.”
He eyes widened. “But—But—! What sort of an existence would you have? Living as a dependent relative? Toiling day after day?” The walking stick waved about in agitation.
She gave a harsh laugh. “What do you think I am doing now, Mr. Darcy?” She held up her hands. “You know I did not earn these callouses from embroidery.”
He could scarcely glance at her hands. Why did he care? If she labored in the kitchen, it should mean nothing to him. Even if he experienced feelings for her, he would not act on them.
He took a deep breath, gathering himself. “I understand what you have been forced into. But do not tempt fate with precipitous actions, I beg of you! I would be loath to see you brought low by Collins’s wrath.”
Elizabeth’s lips pressed together in a thin line. “I assure you, sir, that none of my actions are precipitous. They are meticulously considered and executed.”
He made an irritated gesture, dismissing her words. “I understand your intentions. Your desire to help Longbourn’s tenants is very natural and reflects well on your character. However…” He drew himself to his full height, towering over her. The effort to intimidate—intentional or not—irritated her. “This is a matter of the law. Mr. Collins is a landowner, and you are usurping his rights.”
Elizabeth snorted. For a moment Mr. Darcy’s sympathy toward Mrs. Wiley allowed Elizabeth to believe he was different from other men. But here he was, uttering the precise words she would expect any well-heeled gentleman to say. “Yes, it is all about ownership, is it not?” she muttered.
Mr. Darcy’s forehead wrinkled. “I beg your pardon?”
“In the end, it all comes down to questions of who owns what,” she challenged.
His expression was genuinely baffled. “Well, yes. He owns the land, the cottages, the sheep, the crops, everything that constitutes Longbourn.”
“And I own little more than a handful of ribbons.”
“I am afraid I do not follow.”
Elizabeth continued, not bothering to check her words. “Your sister is fortunate. She may live at Pemberley if she does not marry.”
“Of course. She will always have a home at Pemberley,” he said proudly.
Elizabeth grimaced. “She is one of the few not living on borrowed time or borrowed land. She may own property, not become it.”
He appeared taken aback by her vehemence. “I fail to see what my sister’s situation has to do with your scheme for Collins’s estate.”
“No, I suppose that would escape you,” she said bitterly.
Chapter Twelve
Darcy was a bit baffled at how they had wound up in this position. Red in the face, Elizabeth glowered at him as if he were personally responsible for Collins taking possession of Longbourn.
Her distress was understandable. She was sentimentally attached to her father’s methods for operating the estate and disliked seeing it under different guidance. Collins was certainly not a good landowner, but Darcy had seen worse. Why is she venting her spleen at me? I only care about her! And I have revealed nothing to Collins.
Darcy keenly felt the injustice. He simply argued that she should follow the law, which was to her benefit, damn it! He did not want her to be banished from Longbourn—or arrested. Did she not understand the seriousness of the situation?
“This is the way the English system of inheritance works. Some estates have entails.” You might as well rage against the sun rising in the east.
“I understand it is the system, but the system is wrong. Just because my great-great-grandfather liked the idea of an entail, none of us may inherit.” She threw her hands in the air. “Any of us would make a better landowner than Mr. Collins. Why could Jane not take possession? She is the eldest.”
Darcy frowned, confused. “But then Jane’s husband would operate the estate.”
“Why should it be her husband and not Jane? Why, for that matter, must Jane marry at all?”
Darcy blinked. He had never considered the question. Women rarely inherited land; if they did, they acquired husbands who would become its possessors and managers. That was the way of the world.