An Unnatural Inheritance: A Pride and Prejudice Variation

by Virginia Brand

  Mr. Smythe nodded again and broke out into a wide smile.

  “Indeed, yer right! I’d invite ye in to see the little one, but she’s sleeping right now, as is Sarah. She was up all night with the babe, right collicky she was, and I told her to have a bit of a lie in,” Mr. Smythe said. Elizabeth frowned.

  “I hope she is well — both Mrs. Smythe and your daughter, that is?” Mr. Smythe nodded, but was already staring off beyond her toward the barn, and he nodded in a distracted sort of way.

  “Indeed. Miss Elizabeth, I’m sorry to be awfully rude, after yer kindly coming down here, but I’m afraid I need to get back to the bull before he breaks down the fence, ye understand.”

  Elizabeth grimaced in the direction of the barn and nodded.

  “Of course! Do let me know if my father or I can do anything for you,” she added, still deliberately ignoring Mr. Darcy. Why was the man still there? Why had he even come in the first place?

  “Oh, don’t worry about us, Miss,” Mr. Smythe said, already edging past her. “I talked it all over with Mr. Darcy. Pardon me, ma’am, but please say hello and thank ye to yer father!”

  And then he was gone, slipping off toward the barn and grabbing two of his sons on his way.

  “Grace, would you please take this inside? I do not wish to disturb your mother,” Elizabeth said to the girl, handing over some of the contents of her basket. Grace took them silently and disappeared into the dark cottage, leaving Elizabeth alone outside with Mr. Darcy and his great beast. The horse whinnied into the awkward silence between them.

  “Miss Elizabeth—”

  “So, Mr. Darcy—” they began at the same time, then stopped. Mr. Darcy laughed slightly, though it was stilted and awkward.

  “I was going to ask what brought you to the Smythes, but it appears you are a dear family friend,” Mr. Darcy said, starting again. “It is kind of you to bring provisions to the poor.”

  Elizabeth stared at him for a moment.

  “I suppose it is, but visiting the Smythes is part of my regular routine; I make it a point to visit all my father’s tenants at least monthly, in order to check on their situations,” Elizabeth answered. “In fact, I was just on my way to the next cottage, if you’ll excuse me.”

  Mr. Darcy reached for his horse’s reins and untied them quickly before falling into step beside her, just as he had that morning.

  “That is curious, as I was on my way there as well. Your father’s tenants, you say?” Mr, Darcy asked pensively. “My understanding was that these farms and lands belonged to Netherfield.”

  Elizabeth glanced at him sharply and was about to refute him when she stopped suddenly in her path as the realization of his words hit her.

  “Oh!” she exclaimed, turning slightly pink, “You are correct. I’m rather afraid I had forgotten, after all this time.”

  “After all this time?” Mr. Darcy repeated, halting his horse’s tracks in order to wait for her to catch up. Elizabeth nodded and began walking again.

  “Indeed. As I’m sure you know, the owners of Netherfield Park have not been in residence often, and as such much of their land and their tenants were ill cared for,” Elizabeth explained slowly. “Many years ago, when I was still very young, my father came to an agreement with the owner of the park to lease out his fields for sheep grazing and some planting purposes. It was an informal arrangement, to tell the truth; we gained access to the fields, and in exchange my father would look after the tenants. It has been that way for so long that to be honest, I had forgotten they were not actually on Longbourn land.”

  She glanced up at Mr. Darcy and gave him a sheepish smile. “So, I am afraid you have caught me trespassing, sir.”

  Mr. Darcy was squinting at her, and raised one gloved hand to cup his chin for a moment, before letting out an exasperated sigh.

  “I suppose that is what Bingley meant when he said the tenants ‘would be fine.’ To be honest, Miss Elizabeth, I had simply assumed he had forgotten they existed,” he said in a low, gruff voice, sounding more like he was speaking to himself than to her. “It would have been much easier if he had explained the situation to me.”

  “To be fair to Mr. Bingley, sir, he may not have known,” Elizabeth rushed to interject. “My understanding is it was more of a gentleman’s agreement, a verbal decision. It may not have been written down, and the owner may not have even communicated it to Mr. Bingley.”

  Mr. Darcy tilted his head and nodded.

  “That may be true. But I suppose I shall have to speak to your father in order to sort the business out,” Mr. Darcy said with a small sigh, sounding very tired. “Gentleman’s agreements are well and good, but I find life much easier when business is handled on paper. There’s less grey area and room for confusion, don’t you think?”

  Elizabeth did think so, though she was reticent to agree with the man, as she was still irked at his blunt comments and behavior that morning. But he was correct — she often thought her father left far too much to chance, and did not share his trust in the world of gentlemen’s agreements.

  “There is nothing to be discussed sir, I assure you. Longbourn is happy to continue the care of the tenants until a time when Netherfield is purchased or occupied more permanently. If Mr. Bingley would prefer to use the lands in question, I know my father would be willing to give over grazing rights; indeed, we rarely graze there anymore.”

  Mr. Darcy tilted his head and laughed quietly.

  “You speak very authoritatively about land matters. Are you training to be a steward, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked, the teasing tone back in his voice. Elizabeth laughed, a true, clear laugh, and shook her head.

  “Hardly, sir. I have always helped my father with such matters. As a child I loved to be out of doors, and taking me with him on his land inspections was the safest way to keep me from trouble, to be honest,” she replied. “But truly, if Mr. Bingley wishes to use the land, I know he would be amenable.”

  “Bingley wishes for nothing,” Mr. Darcy muttered. “Truly, I do not think the man even realizes he has land to be used. I’ll take you at your word, Miss Elizabeth, though I do think such an agreement should be written down eventually.”

  “Sir,” Elizabeth said with a laugh, “if Mr. Bingley has no direct interest in the land or tenants, why are you out here? I assumed it was at his behest. I know you have lands and renters aplenty to handle on your estate at home; why take on more burden here?”

  Mr. Darcy stared at her as though she was slow for a moment, then leaned over to open the gate blocking their path.

  “I came to help Bingley manage his estate, and it became clear to me that he had no concept of how to care for tenants,” Mr. Darcy said plainly. “I do not mean it as a slight,” he added quickly, holding up a hand to Elizabeth’s agitated expression. “But he is untrained in this. It is not his fault; it’s why I am here. But I did not know the tenant situation, or if they had been cared for by the previous owner, and as such I thought it best to catalogue their needs before approaching Bingley with suggestions for improvements.”

  “Why not bring Mr. Bingley along? Why not have him meet tenants himself and learn through experience?”

  Mr. Darcy’s face flickered for a moment, and he seemed as though he would not speak. But at last he opened his mouth.

  “I have learned over the years that not all landowners manage their estates as I prefer to; in my experience, I have encountered some families living in deplorable conditions because of a negligent master. I know little of the man who owns Netherfield Park, except that he has been long absent, and as a result I feared the worst,” he said quietly, turning to look down at her and meet her eyes.

  “You have met my friend. He wishes everyone he knows to be happy and carefree. He has all the goodness in the world, and as such he is not always prepared for some of life’s harsher realities. If things were truly as poor as I expected, I wished to save him from the burden of that knowledge.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip as she stared
decidedly at the grass before her. She had not expected such an answer. She had allowed that Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley’s friendship had seemed odd, but she had never considered there to be any great depth of feeling between the two. Yet Mr. Darcy’s speech clearly indicated an acceptance of and respect for Mr. Bingley’s gentle character, and a great tenderness for his friend. His words made her think immediately of Jane, and she could not help but think that Mr. Darcy had summed up her own feelings and protectiveness toward her sister quite well.

  She glanced sideways at him at last, attempting to observe him without being caught. There was a softness to him, indeed; a kindheartedness he did not often show, but appeared to run quite deep nevertheless, and she felt as though she was just beginning to see its depths. He was aggravatingly stubborn and she still thought him arrogant, but she felt more charitable toward him than she had that morning by far.

  “Pray tell me, Mr. Darcy, have you always been so responsible? Was it a matter of study, or were you born ready to ease burdens and take control?” she teased, a smile playing across her face. But Mr. Darcy either did not see her laughing expression or did not care, and his frown deepened and he turned his head away.

  “It has hardly been a study, Miss Elizabeth. No one practices responsibility; they simply take it up one day, or have it put upon them. You either accept it or flee from it, it is as simple as that,” he answered, sounding as dry and serious as Mary.

  Elizabeth suppressed her desire to frown at his dour response, and pointed to the cottage just beyond the crest of the hill.

  “That is the next tenant cottage, just there. It is home to the Gilchrists. They are the only other family that I know of living on Netherfield land. If you would prefer to visit them on your own, I understand,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, though she was unsure why she made the offer.

  She still felt obliged to visit the family, to offer them aid as she had her whole life. When Mr. Bingley left Netherfield, these tenants would once again likely fall under the protection of Longbourn; as such it seemed illogical for her to discontinue her responsibilities just to make this gentleman feel more comfortable.

  “Not at all,” Mr. Darcy said, interrupting her thoughts. “Your knowledge of the family and their situation is useful, and I am sure they are old friends. There is no reason for you to abstain from the visit.”

  Elizabeth smiled gratefully and allowed him to open another pasture gate for her as they crested the hill.

  “I have been thinking on the dilemma I found you in this morning, Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Darcy said after a moment of silence. Elizabeth glanced at him in surprise. “I assume you have not yet found a solution to your troubles since we spoke?”

  “Hardly. I’m afraid some matters have become more complicated, indeed. But truly, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, slightly bewildered. “My troubles are hardly pressing. I have a cheerful disposition, and find I can weather anything if I must. I’m simply attempting to adjust to… well, I believe my future will be different than I had always envisioned. I am simply coming to terms with it.”

  Mr. Darcy was silent for a moment, then nodded.

  “You should write down what bothers you,” he said with a small shrug. “It sounds overly simple, but I always find writing things to be beneficial. I find I am better at expressing myself through written word. Some things simply need to be acknowledged to be purged, if you will. Do you not agree?”

  Elizabeth laughed lightly and nodded.

  “I suppose you are right. Your advice is wise, sir. Though I assure you, things are not so bad as I make them sound — I cannot confess to having any worries so heavy that I feel the need to ‘purge’ them, as you say! And I have many things to look forward to,” she said, shifting the confusing conversation quickly. “I am set to visit the Lake District with my aunt and uncle later this year, and I believe we will be passing through Derbyshire. I’ve heard of its wonders from you and Miss Bingley, and have confessed to some curiosity of it myself. Where are the best sights? Which locations must I insist we stop at?”

  Mr. Darcy smiled, the first true, wide smile she had ever seen, and Elizabeth was thrown off guard by how thoroughly it changed the man’s face.

  “The Lake District? You should skip it altogether and simply enjoy the beauty of Derbyshire, Miss Elizabeth, for I am sure there are no better views in the country. As a lover of nature, I am sure you will be more than satisfied by our many paths and wanderings, especially through the dales,” he said. He paused for a moment, and his smile was gone as he turned to look at her, his face suddenly serious. “I think you would love the dales.”

  “Look, Mr. Darcy, we are at the Gilchrists,” Elizabeth said, turning away from his heavy gaze. “They have two children, both grown. One of the daughters works at Netherfield, actually, as a maid.”

  “Are you talking about Margaret Gilchrist?” Mr. Darcy asked, stepping forward to knock on the door. “She seems a kind girl.”

  Elizabeth flashed him a look of surprise; to think that Mr. Darcy of all men knew the name of a house maid was surprising. He did not seem the type to take notice of a servant, especially one that did not directly work for him. With a small flush, she realized that this knowledge either reflected very kindly on Mr. Darcy, or very badly.

  Only Mrs. Gilchrist was at home, and though she appeared thrown by Mr. Darcy’s presence, it was a satisfactory and warm visit as Elizabeth assessed the needs of the family and the state of the cottage. In short order the two had resolved to leave when Mr. Gilchrist appeared at the door, sweating from riding and panting slightly.

  “Miss Elizabeth! I was hoping I would run into you,” he said, nodding at her. “I’ve just come from the east farm. The storm hit one of the trees something bad, and it finally broke, but came down on the barn. Some of the animals are stuck in there, and we think a few might’n be hurt.” He wiped at his forehead indelicately.

  “I just left your father, actually, he said that if’n I was to find you, I was to bid you to go back home. We’re trying to track down another man to help, so I’m on my way to see Smythe, else I’d offer to take you home in the cart.”

  “We just left Mr. Smythe, actually, and he had his hands full with a temperamental bull,” Mr. Darcy said, interjecting quickly. “I have a horse, I’ll come help.”

  Mr. Gilchrist’s eyes shot over to Darcy, and Elizabeth watched as he eyed the man up and down warily, inspecting his fine coat and expensive hat, and he shook his head slowly, attempting to find a polite way to refuse the offered help.

  “Mr. Darcy, that’s hardly necessary,” Elizabeth said warmly, as surprised as Mr. Gilchrist. “Surely Mr. Smythe will be able to help. Truly, you need not extend yourself; the east farm is not on Netherfield land.”

  But instead of complying, Mr. Darcy only shot her an annoyed glance and turned back to Mr. Gilchrist, effectively dismissing her.

  “It is a matter of some urgency, yes?” he asked. Mr. Gilchrist nodded uneasily. “Then let us leave directly. It will take you some time to get to Smythe, but I can follow you immediately on my horse. And after all, Miss Elizabeth,” he said, turning back to her, “this will allow me to speak with your father about the land.”

  Elizabeth marveled at how quickly Mr. Darcy had grown serious. His harsh mien had returned, and his stubborn nature had taken over. She was surprised as his willingness to help, even though it was surely to be a difficult and unpleasant job, and at another man she would have found it admirable; but Mr. Darcy acted as though such duties were his right and responsibility, as though he had claim and duty to everything he encountered.

  She watched, a stern expression on her face as he and Mr. Gilchrist mounted their horses and departed immediately, and then she turned and began her walk back to Longbourn, pondering on how strange and abominably confusing a man Mr. Darcy was.

  VIII

  Elizabeth woke early, slightly sore from her long rambling the day before, and had just resolved to pass on her morning walk when she was met by a brigh
t-eyed Mrs. Bennet, who informed her that Jane had orchestrated a visit in Meryton for Mr. Collins, and all the Bennet girls were to accompany him to their aunt Phillips’ home.

  The sisters’ walk to Meryton was, in short, a disaster. Jane, having taken the day to apparently come to terms with her new determination to be the future Mrs. Collins, endeavored at every opportunity to single the man out. Jane and Elizabeth vyed back and forth throughout the entire walk in an attempt to capture Mr. Collins’ attention, while the two youngest sisters chattered loudly about the recently arrived militiamen, and Mary tagged along at the back, looking sour and disapproving.

  Upon reaching Meryton, Lydia and Kitty skillfully managed to speak to every officer they came across, and Elizabeth was momentarily amazed by how they had managed to make the acquaintance of the entire militia in such a short amount of time. Mr. Collins, who was unsurprisingly not as taken with the officers as his younger cousins, was growing more restless by the minute.

  “Cousin Elizabeth, you told me so much about your aunt’s delicious tea biscuits, and I find myself exceedingly eager to try them. My kind patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, serves the most delightful biscuits with her tea, and I have been honored to be present at several such occasions. I admit they are the standard that I now hold all other biscuits to, but I do have a delight in sampling any biscuits put forth by ladies. How much farther is it to Mrs. Phillip’s home?”

  Elizabeth was almost rendered speechless by his monologue, for though she should not have been surprised that her cousin had connected Lady Catherine and biscuits within the space of a breath, she was, nonetheless, amazed.

  “It is very close sir, we are almost there,” Jane said quietly from Mr. Collins’ other side. “Pray, tell me, does Lady Catherine pride herself on her tea service?”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her sister’s question. She knew Jane had no interest in the lady’s tea service. But her older sister was showing an unexpected stubborn streak in her attempt to win back Mr. Collins’ favor. She badly wished to protect her sister from winning such a battle, but it was growing increasingly more difficult to take the man seriously.