And as it happened, wedidfind that very thing. It was a stunning ostrich feather from Africa—supposedly—with emerald fringe that would look positively decadent on a lady’s writing desk. But Georgiana looked at it sadly as she examined it. “Itlookslovely, but I’m afraid it is very poor quality.”
I took it from her to inspect it. “Brittle,” I declared. “It will break the first time she uses it.”
“Then it is perfect,” Jane announced.
We both stared at her. “Why? We certainly don’t want to spend Miss Darcy’s pin money on rubbish.”
“Did you not both just agree that itlooksbeautiful?”
“Yes,” Georgiana said. “But looks aren’t everything, you know.”
One of my sister’s eyebrows edged upward. “To Miss Bingley, they are. What are the chances that she will even use that pen? Would she not rather set it on her desk for all to admire as she informed them that Miss Darcy gave it to her?”
I grinned. “You have a point. What do you say, Miss Darcy?”
Georgiana’s hand was in her reticule already, and a moment later, the green feathered quill was wrapped and boxed with her other parcels.
We wandered the stalls for another hour, securing gifts for her London housekeeper, her maid, her companion, and no less a figure than Lady Matlock, her aunt. All were small additions to what she was already planning to give, and I wondered why she had wanted to come to the market at all, after she informed us of what each of her dear ones could already expect to receive from her. It was not as if she had not attended to her duties—well, apart from “forgetting” something for Miss Bingley. I was beginning to suspect—rather strongly—that the idea had truly been her brother’s inspiration to get her out of the house. But why had he chosenusas her escorts? Surely, the Darcys had enough other friends who could have taken his sister somewhere more fashionable.
“Just one more,” Georgiana said as we collected the box containing a pair of gloves for Mrs. Annesley. “We must find something special for my brother. How do I even start to look for a gift for one who has given me so much?”
“Ah, therein lies the challenge,” I mused. “Did you not already purchase something for him?”
“A pair of diamond cufflinks,” she sighed.
I raised my brows at Jane. “That seems… ah… exquisite. Is that not sufficient?”
“But they don’t mean anything. He could have bought them for himself just as easily. Not that he would have. He still wears our father’s old ones. That was why I thought… oh, bother. I will give him those new ones and he won’t even wear them, will he?”
“I’m sure he will, sinceyougave them to him.”
“Out of guilt, perhaps.” She frowned. “Miss Elizabeth, he said you had perfect taste. What do you suggest?”
I blinked. “Your brother exaggerates, Miss Darcy. I’m sure I don’t know what Mr. Darcy would like. I know he admires fine books—perhaps even the same ones I would choose myself, if his selection ofChilde Haroldis any indication of his taste. But that is nothing so remarkable, for I fancy any number of others share the same opinions. What does he… oh, I suppose he doesn’tneedanything, does he? He would have already bought it for himself, in that case.”
“You see my dilemma?” Georgiana said. “If only I could think of something to reflect my gratitude to him. You cannot know how kind he was when…” She stopped, sinking her teeth into her lower lip.
“Go on,” I urged.
“Well, I made a terrible mistake once. One that could have been dreadful, indeed, had he not kept me safe when he did. And I know what it must have cost him to… to make things come right for me. So… I’d like to find him something that speaks of my regard. But what?”
Jane and I shook our heads. “I’m not sure what to advise you,” I said.
“Well, what wouldyouconsider to be a meaningful gift?“ Miss Darcy asked.
“Me? Oh! I’m sure I don’t know. A book I fancied, or a new piece to play on the piano. Walking shoes for when I ruin my old ones…”
Georgiana laughed. “Not a new bonnet or some jewelry?”
“Oh, heavens, no. Those sorts of things are wasted on me.”
Jane chuckled. “Indeed, they would be. For one thing, our youngest sister would pilfer them at her earliest opportunity.”
“But more than that,” I insisted. “Those are justthings. They will wear out or fall out of fashion, and I will forget about them.”
“What was the best gift you ever received?” Miss Darcy asked.
“Oh, that is easy. My handwriting primer.”
