Chapter 23 #2
“And Hertfordshire has greeted us with civility thus far,” Darcy added, with the faintest hint of dryness.
Elizabeth’s lips curved. “We endeavor to astonish Derbyshire with our refinement.”
That earned her a quick, surprised glance from Georgiana—and a quiet huff of amusement from Darcy.
Lady Anne’s eyes did not leave Elizabeth’s face. “You have long resided here?” she asked.
“All my life,” Elizabeth replied. “Though I confess, I sometimes think the hedgerows have grown accustomed to me and refuse to present novelty.”
“Familiarity can be a comfort,” Lady Anne said gently.
“And sometimes a trial,” Elizabeth returned lightly.
Georgiana smiled at that, though she did not speak.
Elizabeth turned toward her deliberately. “Your brother tells me you are accomplished at the pianoforte.”
Georgiana’s hands tightened slightly around her cup. “I practice.”
“That was not the question,” Elizabeth said with playful gravity. “Are you accomplished?”
A faint flush rose to Georgiana’s cheeks. “I hope to improve.”
Darcy intervened quietly. “She understates.”
“I hope to judge for myself sometime,” Elizabeth said with a warm smile. “I would ask you to do so now, but I fear that would be far too intimidating for a first visit. Instead, I shall content myself to ask you about your favorite composers.”
“Yes,” Georgiana said softly, relief plain upon her features. “I am particularly fond of Clementi, though my brother prefers Mozart.”
Darcy’s mouth twitched faintly. “I prefer that which is played with discernment.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “A most diplomatic answer, sir.”
Lady Anne regarded the exchange with quiet interest.
“Do you play often?” Elizabeth asked Georgiana.
“Each morning,” she replied. “And in the evenings, when it is convenient.”
“That sounds remarkably disciplined,” Elizabeth said. “I fear my own habits are more enthusiastic than consistent.”
“You play, Miss Bennet?” Georgiana ventured.
“I do,” Elizabeth answered. “Though my younger sisters would likely tell you I play more for my own amusement than for their pleasure.”
“Miss Elizabeth is quite accomplished,” Darcy said
Elizabeth met his gaze briefly, then returned her attention to Georgiana. “Music is a comfort, is it not? It fills a room without demanding anything in return.”
Georgiana nodded, a little more animated now. “It does.”
“And it requires no particular brilliance in company,” Elizabeth added gently. “One may sit beside the instrument and let the notes speak what one does not yet wish to.”
Throughout the exchange, Elizabeth felt Lady Anne’s gaze return to her again and again. At first, it felt intimidating, so Elizabeth did her best to ignore the probing gaze, focusing her attention on Miss Darcy.
Georgiana looked at her with something very like awe. “I had never thought of it in that way before, but now that you say it, it is the perfect description of how I feel.”
“You must be anticipating the ball with some interest, then,” Elizabeth remarked.
Lady Anne smiled faintly. “It has been many years since I attended such an event.”
Georgiana’s hands folded in her lap. “I am not yet out.”
Elizabeth paused, then spoke with careful lightness.
“My two youngest sisters will be present. They are of your age. I would not presume to advise, but a private ball among friends may serve as a gentle introduction. If you were to dance only with gentlemen approved by your brother, and perhaps withdraw before supper, it might render your first season less formidable.”
Georgiana’s eyes brightened instantly. She turned toward Darcy without speaking.
Darcy glanced toward Lady Anne, who studied her daughter, then inclined her head almost imperceptibly.
“If you wish it,” Darcy said quietly.
“I do,” Georgiana answered, unable to conceal her pleasure.
Elizabeth felt a warmth settle within her at the sight. Unfortunately, the visit could not extend indefinitely. The clock chimed the hour, cloaks were fetched and farewells were made with regretful sighs.
Lady Anne paused at the door. “Forgive me, Miss Elizabeth,” she said gently, studying her once more, “but I cannot help but observe that you bear a striking resemblance to my elder sister, Catherine.”
“Do I? How strange—I do not look anything like the rest of my family. All four my sisters share my mother’s features, which are similar to Miss Darcy’s here.”
Lady Anne’s expression altered—something thoughtful, perhaps even unsettled. “I am very glad to have met you,” she said at last. “I look forward to knowing you better.”
“As do I,” Elizabeth replied warmly.
Darcy’s eyes met hers briefly before he assisted his family into the carriage.
When it had driven away, Elizabeth remained standing in the doorway longer than propriety required.
The embroidery hoop lay abandoned upon the table within. She suspected the flowers would require considerable repair. Yet her spirits, though unsettled in a new and curious way, were very much improved.
This will be an interesting new dynamic to our society, she thought. I hope they liked me as much as I like them.
∞∞∞
The carriage door had scarcely closed upon Longbourn before Darcy turned from the window.
“Well?” he asked, attempting lightness and failing to disguise his interest. “You have met her. What do you think?”
Georgiana did not hesitate.
“She is very kind,” she said at once. “And she did not treat me as though I were foolish for not wishing to play.”
Darcy’s expression softened. “You are not foolish.”
“I know,” Georgiana replied seriously. “But some might think so.”
Lady Anne’s gaze rested thoughtfully upon her stepson. “She seemed genuine,” she said. “There was nothing artificial in her manner. That is rarer than one might suppose.”
Darcy inclined his head. That word—genuine—pleased him more than praise of beauty would have done.
Georgiana folded her hands in her lap, studying him with open curiosity.
“Brother,” she said, with disarming simplicity, “are you going to marry her?”
“Georgiana,” Lady Anne interjected immediately, “such questions are not appropriate for a girl not yet out to ask her gentleman, even if he is her brother.”
“I am sorry,” Georgiana whispered, shrinking back.
Darcy lifted a hand slightly. “If there is one lesson I have lately acquired,” he said, “it is that a measure of forwardness is not always a vice—particularly when the answer will influence your life so directly.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened. “Then?”
He held her gaze steadily. “I wish to,” he said. The words were quiet, but firm.
Georgiana’s face brightened instantly.
Lady Anne, however, regarded him more closely. “And yet,” she prompted.
Darcy exhaled softly. “There are matters to consider. Derbyshire is not Hertfordshire. To remove so far from her family would be no small change.”
“Distance is not always a misfortune,” Lady Anne observed mildly.
Darcy allowed himself the faintest, knowing breath. Images of Lydia’s exuberance and Mr. Bennet’s convenient retreat from household governance passed unbidden through his mind.
“No,” he agreed, with more meaning than the single word required. “It is not.”
Georgiana, however, looked troubled. “Would she be unhappy? I imagine she would miss her family very much.”
“I do not think she would be unhappy,” he answered at once. “But I must be certain.”
Lady Anne’s gaze sharpened faintly. “Certain of what?”
Darcy met her eyes. “That she understands what she undertakes.”
He did not elaborate further, yet both women knew the weight beneath the words.
“A change of county,” Lady Anne said quietly, “is not the only alteration.”
“No.”
The carriage wheels hummed against the road.
Now that he had seen Elizabeth beside them—had watched her speak and laugh, had seen her treat Georgiana kindly, had observed her meet Lady Anne’s scrutiny without either arrogance or submission—his desire had not diminished. It had strengthened.
Their approval settled something within him.
What remained unsettled lay elsewhere.
He would speak to Elizabeth. He would ask plainly how she felt about a Catholic ceremony after they took up residence at Pemberley. About raising their children in that faith. He would not entrap her with half-disclosures.
He only prayed she would agree. That she would not force him to choose between his love for her and his heritage.
For he did not know how he should bear it if she did.
The carriage continued toward Netherfield, the winter light fading slowly as Darcy turned his thoughts toward the conversation he could no longer postpone.