It was a tempting thought. Darcy burned to know what was happening at Longbourn. But he already knew it would be a fruitless endeavor. Any report from Timson would ultimately be inadequate to Darcy’s needs; he had too many questions.
“I thank you, no. I see no need for you to return to Hertfordshire. I would like you to remain here and focus your efforts on locating Miss Lydia Bennet and Wickham.”
And I must travel to Longbourn myself.
***
Elizabeth and Mary lurked quietly in a remote corner of the churchyard while everyone used the time after the Sunday service to catch up on the latest Meryton news. Sophia Long and a few other women of Elizabeth’s generation were still willing to be seen conversing with the Bennet sisters, but today she avoided them. She was intent on her purpose and did not want to miss her opportunity.
Mary King, her bonnet trimmed with ostrich plumes, flounced past the sisters, leading her coterie of like-minded friends. Since Lydia ran away, Miss King had never missed an opportunity to tease or cut the Bennets sisters; for months, Kitty had avoided church because she feared encountering the woman’s vicious tongue.
Elizabeth managed to avoid catching Miss King’s eye—and thus provoking a confrontation—but she could sense the other woman rake her eyes over Elizabeth’s and Mary’s shabby dresses. After she passed, Miss King whispered something to her friends that caused them to titter with laughter as they stole covert glances at the sisters. Elizabeth knew the color rose in her cheeks but refused to even glance in their direction, giving them the satisfaction of knowing they had disturbed her equanimity.
I am here for a purpose. I must keep that in mind. Elizabeth focused her attention on the crowd of parishioners in the courtyard, searching the faces for the one person she needed.
The day was warm and fair with a cheerful sun shining over the chattering townspeople. The tenant farmers and their wives stood or sat under the shade of the chestnut trees that were clustered closer to the cemetery, speaking quietly, while the gentry like the Bennets and Collinses remained closer to the church door. Likewise, the gentry sat in the front of the church while the tenant families and the townspeople remained in the back. Even as a small child Elizabeth had wondered at the inequality of it. If they were all equal in the eyes of God, why did God want the wealthier people to sit up front? Although she understood the tradition better, it still did not make a lot of sense to her.
Elizabeth rehearsed what she would say, as if she were about to give a speech in the town square. It was true that if she followed through on today’s plan, Elizabeth would be committing herself to wholesale deception. Giving a tenant’s widow an unoccupied cabin might earn her some censure if it were discovered, but the plan she contemplated now… Elizabeth did not know the law very well, but very likely some aspect of her scheme was illegal and possibly even a hanging offense.
Her sisters’ enthusiasm for the idea had been a comfort to Elizabeth. They had all expressed reservations about the risks involved, but nobody had attempted to dissuade her from the scheme.
I could change my mind. I could retreat to Longbourn and tell my sisters I thought better of the scheme. They would not judge me; they might even experience a measure of relief. But Elizabeth was not equal to forgetting the faces of Mrs. Wiley’s sons or the hollow cheeks of the tenants’ children or the leaking roofs of the cottages. No. If she could possibly improve their lives, then she should. Her father had taken prodigious care of his tenants when he was alive; now that responsibility had fallen on his daughters’ shoulders since Collins was shirking it.
Mary appeared calm and resolute—without any of the doubts that assailed Elizabeth. When she had presented her plan to her sisters, Mary had been the first to agree, citing Collins’s first days at Longbourn as her reason.
Certain that Mr. Bennet had been lenient with them, Collins had started demanding more from Longbourn’s farmers, raising the rents and expecting better harvests.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh had visited Longbourn not long after Collins took possession. She had expounded at great length on how he must improve furnishings and enhance the landscaping so that the estate might befit his new status. As a result, despite two lean harvests, Collins had spent with abandon and raised the rents.
Mr. Greeves, the unofficial spokesman for Longbourn’s farmers, had talked to Longbourn’s new landowner, explaining why higher rents ultimately hurt Longbourn, particularly when the most desirable tenants left for other estates. But Collins had dismissed his concerns. He was far more interested in what Longbourn could do for him than what he could do for Longbourn.
To compound the problem, Collins knew little about operating a farm and was disinclined to educate himself. Mr. Greeves had become the de facto steward since Collins refused to hire one. He never complained—at least not in Elizabeth’s hearing—but he organized the tenants, decided when to plant crops, allocated resources, and mediated differences.
Elizabeth asked her uncle Philips many times if there was any way they might prevent Collins from pushing the estate into ruin. But he had merely shaken his head sadly and reminded her that the law was on Collins’s side.
Elizabeth straightened her spine as she continued to watch the crowd in the churchyard. She would do this. She must do this.
As if reading her mind, Mary said, “Someone needs to save Longbourn.”
Mary had always appeared to be a model of rectitude and piety. Elizabeth was a bit alarmed at how quickly the middle Bennet sister had embraced the idea of deceiving Mr. Collins, who was, after all, an ordained clergyman and the master of Longbourn. Although perhaps it was not so surprising given Mary’s interest in agricultural improvements.
Elizabeth had been watching Mrs. Greeves, a large, outspoken woman with six children. Just as her husband served as de facto leader for the tenants, Mrs. Greeves often organized the tenants’ wives.
Approaching the tenants about Elizabeth’s plan had presented some obstacles. Although Elizabeth knew every family on the estate, differences in class always stood between them. She was assiduous about taking food if a tenant was ill or had a birth or a death in the family, but those visits were often formal and awkward. She and Mary had concluded that church provided the one time each week when everyone in town was present and on equal footing, at least theoretically.
But then Eliza
beth saw her opportunity. Taking a few of the older children in hand, Mrs. Greeves bade her husband goodbye and set her feet on the road toward Longbourn. After a quick word to Mary, Elizabeth hurried after the woman. Hopefully, nobody would notice her absence.
Upon reaching Mrs. Greeves, Elizabeth slowed her pace to a casual stroll. The children had raced ahead and were pelting up the lane. “Good morning, Mrs. Greeves. Lovely weather.”
The other woman gave her a nod of respect. “Such an improvement after all that damp. Nell is home with a cough.” Ah, Elizabeth had wondered where her youngest daughter was.
“I am sorry to hear that. Should I send for the apothecary?”
Mrs. Greeves frowned. “I thought Mr. Collins was not doing so anymore.”
Elizabeth winced. Her father had paid for the tenants’ medical care if they could not afford it, always saying it was the decent Christian thing to do. Collins believed that it should be the tenants’ expense.