Chapter Seven #2
“It was,” Georgiana said with a note of surprise in her voice. “I am glad to have met you, Lizzy. I am glad Will met you, though as much as he has praised you, I had no idea you would be so easy to speak to.”
Elizabeth could sense that Georgiana wished to turn the subject away from the painful tale of what George Wickham had done to her, and she was perfectly willing to save her reflections on that score for another time.
She gave her friend a playful look and said, “If I am so easy to speak to, perhaps you might tell me what your brother has said of me.”
“He has told me that your company is bright and pleasing, that you are entirely without guile, and that your ready wit is tempered by courtesy and good judgement.”
“Oh.” Elizabeth hardly knew what to say. She had been distinctly discourteous to Mr. Darcy on more than one occasion, and her judgement had been far from sound in believing Mr. Wickham’s scurrilous falsehoods.
“He has never admired a lady before—or never made it so apparent to me, at least, Georgiana said. “Do you… do you admire him, too?”
“Oh… I… well….” Elizabeth began to wring her hands.
“Oh, come, I have told you a great secret—can you not do likewise? I am sure I already look upon you as the sister I have ever desired,” Georgiana said, the look in her eyes betraying a sense of longing.
Elizabeth adored her sisters, though at any given moment she considered at least two of the four to be more of a nuisance than a blessing.
But to have no sisters at all—unhappy thought indeed!
“I have begun to think better of your brother than I previously did—I must acclimate myself to enjoying his good opinion,” Elizabeth said carefully.
“Abominable reply,” Georgiana said, swatting at her as they rounded the side of the house and approached the back garden. “I am not blind—I saw how you were looking at him last evening.”
“Then I wonder why you should even ask me,” Elizabeth teased, sputtering with astonished laughter as she flushed with mortification. Had she really been so obvious?
“You asked about him first,” Georgiana said with a gamely smile. She stopped, released Elizabeth’s hand, glanced skyward, and then tapped her chin in a gesture of mischief. “I could imagine other ways of making you talk.”
“Oh, really?” Elizabeth could say no more before Georgiana bent down and scooped up a fistful of snow and hurled it at her with a peal of laughter.
“Oh!” Elizabeth jolted as the clump of snow struck her on the shoulder, bits of it smattering across her face and neck. She shivered and shook it off, smiling broadly. “That will not go unanswered!”
Georgiana took off running as gracefully as one might manage in six inches of snow. Elizabeth dipped both hands into the snow and packed it tightly as she shambled after her new friend; when she got close enough, she pitched the snowball and hit Georgiana squarely in the back.
The two continued this exchange until they were chilled to the bone, exhausted, and sore in their sides from laughter, and then they collapsed backward into the snow.
The sun was warm on her face as Elizabeth gave a sigh of contentment as she glanced skyward, and then her gaze landed on the house.
Out of an upstairs window, Mr. Darcy peered intently down at the two reveling ladies. He was smiling warmly.
Elizabeth propped herself up on one elbow and looked over at Georgiana. “Gigi, you little sneak! You orchestrated a little performance beneath your brother’s window.”
Georgiana smirked guiltily. “How could I possibly have known that my brother, who was so eagerly anticipating our winter traditions at Pemberley, should be gazing out his window at the snow? Or that the sight of you so convivial with his sister would be entirely beguiling? It is fate, perhaps… destiny.”
There was such a look of innocence about Georgiana, and Elizabeth had already grown fond enough of both Darcy siblings that she could not truly resent such well-intentioned maneuvering.
It was infinitely preferable knowing that Mr. Darcy was charmed by the spectacle she had made of herself, than believing that he looked down upon her with disdain. Fate, indeed!
Darcy strode hastily down the front steps of Longbourn, eager to join Georgiana and Elizabeth.
They were behaving like sisters already—it was beyond the best that he had hoped for when he had begun to entertain the possibility of pursuing his interest in Elizabeth.
And now… she had, in the space of a day, become an unshakeable certainty.
To his disappointment, he was too late. He had wished to join in their revelry, but he met with them as soon as he rounded the side of the house, and the ladies declared they wished to don dry clothes and take their morning repast. He was happy to follow them back indoors, to join them for a delicious morning meal, and to observe them displaying such affection for one another, but the two ladies remained inseparable for much of the day.
It was not until after supper that Darcy finally had the greater share of Elizabeth’s attention. Georgiana was in high spirits, for Darcy had told the ladies that he had received word from Richard that morning—the colonel was expected to come to their aid on the morrow.
With a knowing smile for her employer, Mrs. Annesley said, “Would you like to play for us, my dear? You have nearly perfected the new music your cousin gifted you last week—perhaps a little more practice and you could perform it for him tomorrow.”
Georgiana glanced at Elizabeth for approval, in a way she often did to Darcy, and after a little encouragement, she fairly danced over to the piano stool and took a seat.
The first notes of a concerto hung in the air as Darcy watched Elizabeth glance over at him, her eyes bright in the light of the roaring blaze in the fireplace.
And then she smiled a devastating smile.
His breath caught in his throat as he realized she desired some private conversation as much as he did.
Darcy sat down beside her on the sofa, and her brilliant smile faded into something more intimate.
Her fingers twitched and she glanced down before resting a hand on his arm.
“Georgiana told me about Ramsgate. I fear I have not properly apologized for allowing that villain to slander you, to tarnish my opinion of you.”
“You need not say any more, Miss Eliz- Miss Bennet.”
“I must.” Her hand slid down his arm until her fingers curled over the top of his hand.
“It is not enough to admit that I regret being influenced by that libertine. I am sorry, heartily sorry that I allowed my wounded vanity to shade my judgement. You were betrayed by somebody your entire family trusted, and nobody in that assembly room had done anything to earn your trust—quite the reverse. If I heard the whispers of your ten thousand a year, surely they reached your ears. You had far more reason to fear I was a fortune hunter than I had to think you would disregard your father’s wishes and ruin a man’s life. ”
Darcy drew in a long, slow breath, feeling his heart swell with emotion. “Miss Bennet….”
“Even before I had begun to regret my foolishness, before I showed you a modicum of respect, you still came to my aid. You were already eager for your sister and I to become acquainted, and I certainly deserved no such distinction.”
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said firmly, and she finally looked up to meet his eye.
“I beg you would let me speak. I have understood your character far longer than you have known mine, and I accept all the blame for that. I have not comprehended your feelings, for my own vanity shaded my judgement and I was utterly blind to your true sentiments. I told you once that I hoped my faults were not of understanding, but I cannot repine my ignorance of your disdain, as it allowed me to learn what an exquisite woman you are.”
Elizabeth laughed and shook her head, her hand finally withdrawing from his. “After I argued with you and challenged you at every turn?”
Darcy’s fingers twitched, aching to touch her again. “I enjoyed our debates. You have a clever turn of mind, which would be entirely wasted if you simply agreed with everything I said.”
“There is no danger of me ever being that agreeable,” Elizabeth quipped, her eyes twinkling with mirth. “But then, I had thought you enjoyed Miss Bingley’s constant flattery.”
“This may be the worst thing you—or anybody—has ever accused me of,” he drawled.
Elizabeth blinked, her lips slowly parting, and then she gave a burst of surprised laughter. “If I had known you were so willing to make jokes at her expense, I am sure we might have been fast friends indeed.”
“I suppose you thought she and I were designed for one another,” he replied, sensing that he had managed to match her banter despite the disgust he felt at the idea of being paired in her mind with Miss Bingley.
“Worse yet, I had supposed that you shared her disapproval of Jane becoming Mrs. Bingley—I feared you might attempt to dissuade your friend from paying my sister his addresses.”
Darcy knew he ought not be surprised by her perspicacity. His honor would not permit him to deceive her, but to own the truth would bring the magic of their newfound intimacy crashing down around him. He carefully deflected.
“You said something yesterday that puzzled me—that the evening before your family departed, you were upset about your sister’s marriage.
It took me some time before I came round to the notion and could acknowledge my friend’s good fortune in finding such a bride, but you have always been her greatest supporter, have you not? ”