Rebellion at Longbourn

Darcy had promised he would help Elizabeth but had not anticipated that the assistance could take this form. In retrospect, he had been naïve. Perhaps it was inevitable that his commitment to Elizabeth would be tested by his willingness to practice deception in her service.

Collins was obviously bewildered by the dispute. Perhaps Darcy could bluff. Darcy straightened his spine, imagining he was as arrogant as Aunt Catherine. “I am amazed you have not seen this variety of wheat before, Mr. Weston.”

The farmers suppressed astonished grins as Darcy supported their falsehood. “It is a bit oddly shaped, to be sure, but I am told it is quite a hardy variety,” he continued, striving to make the falsehood believable.

“Really, Mr. Darcy?” Collins asked with wide eyes.

“Indeed. We grow it at Pemberley.” It was true that they grew clover at Pemberley. “Remind me what this variety is called, Greeves?”

The man suppressed a smile. “I’ve heard it called Scottish wheat, sir.”

“Oh yes, yes,” Darcy agreed blithely.

“This is clover!” Weston stalked to the end of a row of crops and pulled a plant out of the ground, shaking it at Darcy. “Clover! I don’t know what your game is!”

“Mr. Weston, sir, I don’t think you should be pulling up Mr. Collins’s crops!” Meacham called to the steward. “That’s a valuable plant, that is,” he confided to Collins.

Collins stepped forward. “See here, Weston—”

Weston regarded his employer with pleading eyes. “You cannot tell me that you believe these-these men over such evidence?” He held up the plant.

“Mr. Darcy is Lady Catherine’s nephew!” Collins exclaimed in a shocked voice.

This may be the first time my relationship to Aunt Catherine has done me any good, Darcy mused. Not that my lineage lends me any agricultural expertise.

“He won’t believe me about the sheep either!” Weston said bitterly to nobody in particular.

“What is this about sheep?” Darcy asked. “Are some missing?”

“No!” Weston said. “There are too many. Twenty more than Longbourn should have!”

“Surely you miscounted, Mr. Weston,” Greeves said in a placating tone. Meacham concealed a smile behind his hand.

Darcy frowned. “I fail to see what is so distressing about additional sheep. Certainly it can only benefit Longbourn. Perhaps the estate simply had a better breeding season than initially believed.”

Weston threw his hands in the air. “There are too many sheep!”

Darcy’s lips twitched. “Mr. Weston, perhaps you have been working too hard. You should allow yourself more time to rest.”

“This place is impossible!” Weston cried, red in the face, drops of sweat trickling down his cheeks. “Nothing is as it seems. Clover is wheat. Mysterious machines transform into spinning wheels. Sheep appear out of nowhere. Longbourn is a fairyland!”

If the man were not such a blackguard, Darcy would have experienced some sympathy for his bewilderment. “Are you quite all right, sir?” he asked. “These delusions—”

“They are not delusions!” Weston shouted. “It’s this place. Longbourn! It’s enchanted or something.” He pointed to the tenants. “You don’t realize it! This place has blinded your eyes.” An expression of dawning realization passed over his face. “The longer you remain, the more it fools you.”

“Weston—” Collins started.

The man ignored his employer, whirling on Darcy. “Escape now! While you can! It’s too late for them!” He gestured wildly to the other men.

“Mr. Weston!” Collins said sharply.

Weston backed away from the others. “I shan’t stay. Not a minute longer! Not one minute, not even if you beg me!” Nobody was begging him. “Consider this my resignation, Mr. Collins!” He was already scrambling toward the road. “I am resigning, and I will not remain for any amount of money!” He paused dramatically, awaiting a protest that never arrived, before turning on his heel and stalking toward the manor house.

Collins regarded Darcy. “Perhaps I should offer him more money? But Lady Catherine was so strict when she ordered me not to give him one penny more,” he wailed.

Darcy choked back a laugh. “No, I believe your initial impulse was correct. Longbourn does not need a steward. Mr. Greeves can fulfill those needs quite admirably.”

Collins and Greeves displayed twin expressions of surprise. “I thank you for your vote of confidence, sir,” Greeves said.