“Oh, yes. He is great friends withmybrother Richard, else I doubt we should ever see him. Fitzwilliam is… particular about Georgiana’s company. As if the girl were made of glass!”
Elizabeth took a quiet sip of her tea. “Perhaps her brother believes she would be happier in smaller company,” she said lightly. “A shy young lady, though very sweet. I hope she is well?”
“She is, though still not formally out.” Lady Julia gave a slight roll of her eyes. “Everyone treats her like some cloistered nun rather than the niece of an earl. But I suppose that is a Darcy for you.”
“Is she often in Town?” Elizabeth asked, keeping her voice mild.
Lady Julia’s eyes lit up, sensing an opportunity. “She is staying here in London just now. I daresay she must be dreadfully bored. Prefers the country, that one.”
Elizabeth allowed a small smile. “Then perhaps she might welcome a walk in the park some afternoon? I think I should like to know her better. Anyone who plays as beautifully as she does might enjoy a friend with a similar passion for music.”
“I shall send for her at once,” Lady Julia said, already reaching for the bellpull. “It would be the very thing. She has been sighing at pianoforte scores and writing letters to no one for days. And I cannot think of a better companion than Lady Elizabeth Montclair.”
She turned toward the footman who presented himself by the door. “Have Miss Darcy brought to us at once.”
The man bowed and vanished, and Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap to still their sudden restlessness. Her heart gave a quiet thud.
“She spends far too much time upstairs,” Lady Julia added. “Sketching, mostly, or brooding. You would think her brother were the only man in England worth pining over.”
Elizabeth did not reply. She could feel her pulse in her throat.
The door opened.
Georgiana Darcy entered with hesitant steps, her eyes flicking between her cousin and their guest. She had grown taller, perhaps a touch thinner than Elizabeth remembered. But her face was the same—gentle, watchful, guarded. Her hands were clasped before her in a way that reminded Elizabeth uncomfortably of Darcy at his most reserved.
“You remember Lady Elizabeth Montclair, of course,” Lady Julia said airily. “She was just saying how she hoped you might keep her company.”
Georgiana curtseyed. “Yes, my lady. I remember.”
Elizabeth stood. “Miss Darcy,” she said warmly. “I hope I have not imposed.”
Georgiana’s gaze lifted to meet hers—shy, but not overly reticent. “Not at all. I am glad to see you again.”
And there it was. Not only a memory, but a possibility. A door cracked open.
Elizabeth stepped closer. “Perhaps you will sit with me?” she asked. “Only if you were not otherwise engaged before we pulled you away.”
Georgiana hesitated, then nodded at once, and Elizabeth could see it—the faintest flicker of relief in her eyes that she had not been summoned here to perform and impress. She sat beside her on the settee, and Lady Julia, sensing herself dismissed from her own drawing room, reached for her embroidery frame with a very self-satisfied smile.
Elizabeth settled deeper into the settee beside Georgiana, offering a warm, encouraging smile. The younger woman sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her gaze lowered, the very picture of modesty.
“Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth began gently, “I recall from our previous meeting that you have a talent for the pianoforte. Do you still find joy in playing?”
Georgiana’s cheeks tinged pink, and she nodded slightly. “Yes, my lady. I practice when I can.”
“Music can be such a solace,” Elizabeth said. “Especially amidst the bustle of London. Do you find the city agreeable?”
Georgiana hesitated, her fingers tightening together until the knuckles whitened. “I... I prefer the countryside,” she admitted.
Elizabeth nodded. “The countryside does have its charms. But surely, London offers its own diversions? Have you attended many events this season?”
Georgiana’s eyes flickered toward Lady Julia, who observed the exchange with a faint smile. “Not many,” Georgiana replied. “My family is... particular about the company I keep.”
Elizabeth sipped her tea thoughtfully before venturing, “Ah, yes. Lady Julia was just mentioning your brother’s protective nature. It is commendable how he looks after you.”
At the mention of her brother, Georgiana’s composure faltered. Her eyes welled up, and she glanced down, dabbing at them with a handkerchief. There was a marked sniff.
Lady Julia sighed, setting her hoop down with more than a hint of exasperation. “Georgiana, must you always be so dramatic? It is not as if he is dead.”
