Chapter 20
Though the passage of only a few days had enabled Elizabeth to find her sister-in-law to be sweet, eager to please, and shy, she had not yet achieved any deeper insight into her character, and still less into how a more lasting repair to the relationship between the siblings might be achieved.
She therefore took the opportunity of a quiet morning early in the Wickham’s stay to seek out Georgiana.
Elizabeth hesitated a moment before knocking on the door. Though it ought not to have mattered in the least, she felt strangely reluctant to intrude if Mr Wickham might be there.
But that was only silliness, and no reason for delay. Telling herself not to be absurd, Elizabeth knocked firmly on the door.
In fact, Mr Wickham was not in. Georgiana sat before the vanity. Her hair must have become a little disarrayed, for she was having it rearranged by the maid — one Reynolds had assigned to her upon her arrival, as Mrs Wickham had not brought her own.
“Thank you, Dansberry. You may go,” Georgiana said. With a curtsy, she did so. Georgiana turned to Elizabeth with a confiding smile. “How good it is to have my hair done by Dansberry again! She has helped me ever since I was first old enough to wear my hair up.”
“I have been very much impressed with all the Pemberley staff,” Elizabeth agreed. “Mrs Reynolds is truly a wonder.”
“And so very dear!” Georgiana chimed in. “She has always been so kind to me. Only —” Her voice faltered. “Only, I do not think she quite approves of my husband.”
As there was no possible reply to this, Elizabeth only nodded and changed the subject. “Are you quite at liberty this morning? We have not yet spoken together — just we ladies, I mean. I should so much like to know you better.”
Georgiana’s face brightened. “Oh, how lovely. I should like nothing better,” she said, waving Elizabeth over to the little sitting area between the hearth and the windows looking out on the woods.
She sighed in relief. Looking at her curiously, Elizabeth thought it sounded almost as though it had been her first deep breath for a very long time. “It is so good to be home.”
“We are so thankful that you and Mr Wickham could make the trip. Are you comfortable in your room? Of course, you know the house very well and could request any room you desire.”
“No, not at all. You chose perfectly for me, for I have always loved this room,” Georgiana replied without hesitation. “My childhood room was very near the governess’ quarters. I found this room has much more natural light, being on the east-facing side. It is positively magical in the morning.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Elizabeth told her.
“In truth, I confess I have not yet found a room here I would not gladly stay in — but then, you know the house much better than I do. For that matter, is there anything you would like to do during your visit? I confess I am still learning the house and do not know the village as well as I should like.”
“Our walk about Lambton was very pleasant,” Georgiana replied thoughtfully. “There are a few neighbours I should very much like to see. And — well, never mind.”
“Please tell me,” Elizabeth urged her. “Though we have not known each other long, Mrs Wickham, I suspect you are not likely to ask for anything I would not gladly give you. What would you like to do?”
Georgiana hung her head shyly, but at Elizabeth’s continued urging, she at last gave way. “It is only that I have not been able to play the pianoforte since my marriage. I miss it very much.”
For a moment, Elizabeth could not think how to respond.
It seemed all but impossible. Each time anyone had spoken to her of Georgiana Wickham, her love for the pianoforte had been mentioned in the same breath.
Why did she not have a pianoforte of her own?
They were expensive, true, but not prohibitively so.
And why had she not played since arriving at Pemberley?
“I must confess myself shocked,” Elizabeth said at last. “I am told you are a very great proficient, and one who loves nothing more than to play. At least the deficiency can be remedied now. Indeed, nothing could be easier. Why have you not played on the pianoforte in the parlour? Or the conservatory? Mr Darcy bought it for you, I am told.”
“I did not want to impose. It is not mine anymore. It is yours.”
Elizabeth gave a short, stunned laugh. “My dear sister! Trust me when I say that this caution, this deference, is entirely misplaced. Your brother purchased that pianoforte for you. Of course it belongs to you!”
For a moment, Georgiana looked up, and something akin to hope seemed to shine in her eyes.
But it lasted for only a moment. She shook her head, looking away as though she could not bear to meet Elizabeth’s eyes.
Her voice, when it came, seemed weighted down with shame.
“No, I gave all of this up when I agreed to marry my dear Wickham. My brother was so angry with me that he did not even write until a fortnight ago — at your bidding. How could I be so presumptuous as to act as though this were still my home? It would be to give up far more than I would gain if I risked driving a wedge between us again, simply because I wished to play the pianoforte.”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. She had not thought of such an objection, and she hoped it had no truth to it.
It was difficult to believe Mr Darcy would refuse her sister the chance to play the instrument he had purchased for her.
Indeed, she was certain he would be glad of the chance to hear its music again.
To hear, although she did not dare to speak the thought aloud, Georgiana’s music again.
She leaned over and took Georgiana’s hand.
“I am inviting you to play, Georgiana. While you are here, for this visit and every one that follows, please play as much as you like. You need not worry about being presumptuous, for I tell you here and now that it is no imposition. Far from it.” She let go after a light squeeze and leaned back.
“It will be good to have the house filled with music again.”
Georgiana gave a small smile. “If you are sure…”
“I am,” Elizabeth said without allowing her sister-in-law to finish. “If Mr Darcy says anything to you, you may tell him it was at my urging. I am not only allowing, but requesting you to play.”
“Thank you,” Georgiana said gratefully, looking more cheerful than Elizabeth had yet seen her.
Though the present confusion had reached a satisfactory resolution, something tugged at Elizabeth’s mind. Georgiana might play as much as she wished at Pemberley, but it was an unfortunate oversight that she had not had the opportunity to do so since her marriage.
“Is it the case, then, that you have no pianoforte at your new lodgings, Georgiana?” Elizabeth asked cautiously.
“I am afraid so. Please do not misunderstand. We have let a very comfortable house in a good neighbourhood. It is a little small, perhaps, compared to my brother’s house in Town.
But I have everything I need,” she explained.
“However, my husband says that the allowance my brother and cousin have stipulated does not allow for such luxuries as a new pianoforte.”
“Perhaps a used one would do nicely?” Elizabeth suggested. “It might not be the equal of your piano here, but the expense might be kept very modest. Or perhaps Mr Darcy might issue an advance on the allowance.”
Georgiana shook her head, looking rather wistful. “I do not mean to seem ungrateful, Mrs Darcy —”
“Please, you must call me Elizabeth,” she insisted.
Georgiana smiled shyly. “Elizabeth. I did not mean to complain. My husband is everything kind, and Fitzwilliam has already been generous enough, inviting us here. I could not ask for anything more. No, I will content myself with playing while I am at Pemberley.”
For a moment, Elizabeth considered pressing the point.
She had not received the impression that the allowance was overly parsimonious.
A very little frugality ought to allow the Wickhams to save up for a modest pianoforte, even if she did not wish to ask her brother for an advance.
Surely Mr Darcy would approve so eminently reasonable a request, to be funded by Georgiana’s own dowry.
Or…would he? Doubt assailed her. Mr Wickham had hinted otherwise, as did Georgiana’s fear of her brother. Perhaps the generous, reasonable side of Mr Darcy that had appeared to Elizabeth so far was no fair indication of his real character.
Perhaps there were a great many things she still did not understand about her husband.
With an effort, Elizabeth shook off her troubling thoughts. “Come, let us go down to the parlour, and you can play right now,” she suggested.
“Oh, what a wonderful idea! If you are with me, no one could raise an objection, could they?” Georgiana said. She retrieved a shawl and wrapped it loosely around her shoulders. “How exciting! Do you play four-handed pieces?”
Elizabeth felt the blush creeping up her cheeks as she followed Georgiana out of her room and started down the corridor. “No, not well, that is. My sister, Mary, is the pianist of the family. And while I play a little, I have not the talent or the inclination to practise as she does.”
“Well, we shall have to try one of these days, if you are amenable,” Georgiana said.
When they arrived in the parlour, Elizabeth called for a pot of tea, then took a seat in the smaller sitting area off to the side of the pianoforte.
It was a beautiful instrument, to be sure.
She had admired it since her arrival at Pemberley.
But she had also not felt it right to play after Mrs Reynolds had told her of Georgiana’s elopement.
Like Georgiana herself, she had been fearful of awakening ghosts better left to slumber.