Talkative people love good listeners, and Georgiana was one of the best Elizabeth had ever known. She intuitively picked up on any nuances in Elizabeth’s words and discovered the more subtle humourous references which usually only her father could detect. Georgiana’s smile grew broader by the moment, and by the time they reached the trees, an easy fellowship had begun to develop between the two.
“Look here,” Elizabeth reached up to one of the lower branches to pluck a fruit.
“It is beautiful! What is it? I have never seen one like it.”
“It is called a persimmon, I believe,” replied Elizabeth. “We are just on the border of Longbourn, so this is my father’s grove. My grandfather was somewhat peculiar, my father tells me. As one of his hobbies, he imported a few exotic trees. This one came from the American continent. My grandmother was very traditional, and she thought an orchard full of such strange trees was not decent. Hence, the orchard’s location far from the house.” Elizabeth gave the odd-looking fruit into Georgiana’s hand.
“Is it sweet?” she asked dubiously. “It looks something like the tomatoes William keeps in the hothouse.”
“When they are fully ripe, as these are. It is strange that they are such a late fruit. Jane and I often sneak out here through the early winter, and they are good on the branches for a long while, even after the leaves are gone. Mrs Hill does not like using them in her kitchen, so we always eat them just like this.” Elizabeth took a large bite of a second fruit, just as if it were an apple.
Georgiana hesitantly lifted the fruit to her lips and took a timid taste. The texture was firm and smooth, but not crunchy or juicy like an apple. The flavour was mildly sweet. She smiled in pleasant surprise and eagerly took another bite.
“That tree there,” Elizabeth gestured between bites, “is a pomegranate. I do not know where Grandfather obtained it, but you have probably heard of it from the ancient tale of Persephone. Unfortunately, I believe it is too cold here for the tree to do well. We are in a warm little gulley here, protected from winter winds, but it is really a Mediterranean tree. The flowers are lovely, but the tree rarely produces much fruit. Sometimes, if we have had a good summer like we had this year and you look sharp, you can find some before the birds do.”
Georgiana dutifully looked. “Is that one? It looks something like a dark pear or a very large apple from here.”
Elizabeth’s eyes followed her hand. “Why, yes, it is! Oh, and there are two more. Shall we try to reach them?” Georgiana’s eyes were bright with agreement. They spent a highly undignified ten minutes shinnying up the trunk a short way and helping bend the branches for each other. In the end, they had proudly collected five of the curious fruits. Elizabeth taught her how to tap the fruit and listen to the tinny sound it made to make sure it was ripe.
“William will be so excited to taste these!” the girl enthused. Georgiana cupped three of them in a makeshift apron, using the front of her exotic cream coloured pelisse, which was now grown quite muddy. Her gaze flashed to Elizabeth’s face, and found it suddenly subdued. “Miss Elizabeth… is something wrong?”
Elizabeth’s eyes snapped back to her new friend’s. “No! I…” she stopped, searching for words.
Georgiana came a hesitant step closer, shifting her hands on her fruit to place one uncertainly on Elizabeth’s arm. “Miss Elizabeth, do you… do you care for my brother?”
Shocked at the girl’s uncharacteristic audacity, Elizabeth answered with breathless silence. She met Georgiana’s eyes unwillingly. Her lips parted as if she were about to speak but could not manage it.
Georgiana’s hopeful face fell. “I see.” She hung her head and sighed deeply, her lip quivering.
Seeing the girl’s acute disappointment, Elizabeth felt dreadfully guilty. “Miss Darcy, I am so sorry! I did not mean to hurt you. With Mr Darcy and myself, well, things are… complicated.” Elizabeth placed a hand over Georgiana’s, trying to soothe her.
Georgiana looked carefully into Elizabeth’s face, the fear of losing the friend and sister she had longed for plainly written across her features. “I like you, Miss Elizabeth,” she stammered. Her eyes bashfully dropped to the grass. “I was hoping that… well, you know.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper.
Elizabeth felt her heart twist. Colonel Fitzwilliam may have been jovially attempting to drop positive comments about his cousin, but it was Georgiana Darcy’s sincere faith in her that would likely prove her undoing. “Surely, Miss Darcy, we can be friends in any case, can we not?”
The girl blinked rapidly, raising her eyes again. “Do you think so?” Surprised pleasure fluttered in her gaze. Few had ever desired her companionship at the exclusion of her brother’s. “Would you please call me Georgiana? I would so much like that.”
Elizabeth relaxed into a smile. “Of course, and you must call me Elizabeth, or Lizzy if you prefer. It is what my sisters call me,” she explained with a light chuckle.
The wistful look returned to Georgiana’s face. “I like calling you Lizzy, if I may. Sometimes people call me Georgie, since my name is so dreadfully long. You may as well, if you like.” She looked bashfully to Elizabeth, who nodded in cheerful reassurance. Georgiana sighed. “I should have liked to have had a sister.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Perhaps you are fortunate, as I have an abundance of sisters but no brother. Had I, our family would have had considerably fewer concerns. I find myself somewhat envious,” she comforted cheerfully.
“William truly is the best and kindest brother to me. He treats me so gently and is forever doing little things just to please me. I am so lucky to have him. He is always so good!” she whispered daringly, hope trembling in her voice.
“It is no more than you deserve, I am sure,” Elizabeth smiled encouragingly.
Georgiana’s eyes widened in denial. “Oh, no, Lizzy!” she gasped. “If you only knew! I have done such terrible things, such dangerous, foolish things! If not for William, I would be…” her mouth kept moving, but it was as if she did not have the heart to put voice to her words. She shook her head ever so slightly. “I know I do not deserve William’s kindness… or even yours.” She glued her eyes to her feet, shuffling them uncomfortably.
Had the words come from anyone of whose sincerity she was less convinced, Elizabeth would have found that speech highly manipulative. The pain in Georgiana’s voice was too real, her conviction of her own shame genuine.What has happened to this poor girl?
Elizabeth wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Georgie, whatever you think you have done, you are wrong to think yourself undeserving. You are so young and innocent! There could not possibly be anything you could have done that could be so grievous that you should believe such of yourself. It is only right that your brother should take care to be kind to you. Surely you cannot believe yourself unworthy!” Georgiana’s head was still bowed, her shoulders trembling ever so gently. She was not crying, but she was very near it.
Elizabeth tried a different tactic. “Georgie, please look at me.” The girl complied slowly, her eyes misty and her mouth drawn into a quivering line. Elizabeth thought fleetingly that the sister looked today very much like the brother had yesterday, but she dismissed the notion quickly. She touched the tip of Georgiana’s chin to hold her gaze and stated her words slowly and firmly, like a mantra. “You are a remarkable girl. You are beautiful and sweet and terribly charming. I am so pleased you came here today, and I am glad to call you my friend. I should like to spend a good deal more time with you. Please believe me, Georgiana Darcy, when I say you are one of the most delightful people I have ever met.”
Georgiana’s eyelashes fluttered, her gaze darting unbelievingly around the periphery of Elizabeth’s countenance until the latter spoke of continued friendship. The craving in her soul anchored to Elizabeth’s words, and she could not hold back a grateful sob. Not caring one whit for propriety, she dropped the pomegranates and flung herself into Elizabeth’s arms. Shocked beyond reason, there was nothing for Elizabeth to do but draw the girl close and murmur comforting words to her. Georgiana was like a frightened child, quaking in her embrace.
Elizabeth held her with sincere concern until the girl’s shivers slowed. When Georgiana’s fervour had abated somewhat, Elizabeth drew back enough to look at the girl’s face and smooth her hair beneath the edges of her bonnet. “You must think me a little fool!” Georgiana dabbed her eyes with her bare fingertips.
