Elizabeth’s heartfelt smile was firmly in place. “Not at all, dear Georgie. Sometimes we all need some reassurance. Tell me, have you many friends in Derbyshire or London?”
The girl shook her head mournfully. “So very few. I have a companion, Mrs Annesley. William hired her this fall, after…” her voice broke curiously again, but she forged ahead. “She is a widow with two grown children—in fact, she asked leave to visit her son in Mitcham now, while I came to be here with my brother and Richard. She is kind to me, but she is older, and she is paid to endure my company. She cannot be like a friend of my own... or a sister.”
She looked hesitantly to Elizabeth again, who nodded her encouragement to continue. Summoning a new kind of boldness, she went on. “I have had others try to make friends with me, but normally they only ask me about William and try to put themselves in his way. I used to fall for it, but not anymore.” Her shoulders drooped dejectedly.
Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly. There was clearly more to Georgiana’s secret pain than simple loneliness, but she found herself outraged that this sweet girl would be used as a pawn in others’ matrimonial schemes. To be picked up with false intimacy and dropped on a whim—that alone would be enough to shake the confidence of a shy girl like Georgiana Darcy—and she was not even out yet! She could only imagine how this quiet, sensitive soul would suffer when subjected to the ambitions of women like Caroline Bingley.
She resolved to speak with this allegedly kind and attentive brother. If Georgiana were troubled by hopeful debutantes trying to garner the attention of her eligible brother, then Mr Darcy would simply have to keep them at bay himself. Though, she admitted to herself wryly, he already appeared to do a creditable job of rebuffing the advances of others. How anyone ever warmed to him was a wonder—rich and eligible or no.
Her thoughts froze when reality jolted her. As far as everyone else was concerned, Darcy was no longer eligible, andshewas the bride-elect. Her eyes narrowed briefly as an uncomfortable thought rose. Darcy had not brought Georgiana to her notice to work through the girl in the same way... had he? No... She doubted that proud Darcy would stoop to such. When had he ever cared what her opinion might be? He was used to getting what he wanted without need for resorting to subterfuge. Georgiana, on the other hand...
Her jaw had dropped as those ideas flew through her mind, but she recovered before Georgiana noticed. The girl had clearly been hoping thatshewould be that constant sister and companion that she had so lacked. In her wilful dislike of Darcy and dogged determination not to bend to his will, she had nearly overlooked the fragile heart before her. Circumstances between herself and the gentleman in question were bound to become yet more complicated, but she instantly set her mind and heart to be the truest friend she could be to the man’s sister.
With a fearsome swipe at her eyes, Georgiana bent to gather her lost pomegranates. As she did so, Elizabeth added a few persimmons to her makeshift apron, offering a playful smile.
The trembling sorrow gradually dissipated from the girl’s face as Elizabeth kept adding more and more fruit. Her pelisse, stained and sagging, began to slip out of her fingers with the weight. Laughingly Georgiana begged her to stop, but Elizabeth pursed her lips and made a measured pitch, tossing the last persimmon into her lap. They both began to squeal with laughter as Georgiana nearly lost her precious cargo, and Elizabeth almost slipped in the mud trying to steady her.
The sound of slow clapping and a cheerful “Brava!” drew their attention from each other. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam waded through the tall, yellowed grass toward them, then carefully down the short bank into the hollow of the orchard. Apparently, they had grown weary of waiting for the ladies to return in safety. The former bore an expression of relieved worry, the latter one of lively amusement.
Cheered and feeling saucy, Elizabeth met them with an arch smile. “Have you gentlemen lost your way? I believe you will find nothing of interest in these parts. You ought to try farther up on the higher road. I believe there may be some worthwhile sightseeing there.”
Near her shoulder, Georgiana stifled a giggle. Elizabeth had nearly forgotten about Jane and Bingley until that moment. Her heart lifted when she considered the likelihood that her dearest sister’s happiness was on the cusp of being secured.
Darcy’s countenance warmed as he drew near. He stood an arm’s length from Elizabeth, his searching gaze taking in the joy on his sister’s face and the relaxed happiness on Elizabeth’s. “What have you there, Sweetling?”
Georgiana arched her shoulders proudly, the closest she could come to lifting her burden for his inspection. “Pomegranates, Brother! And… What did you call these others, Lizzy?”
Darcy’s eyebrows shot up, and his face split into a wide grin when he heard Georgiana’s casual use of the nickname. His wondering gaze hovered on Elizabeth. The woman was a miracle worker! Never had he seen Georgiana so enraptured and comfortable with a new acquaintance. Had he not known better, he would have taken the pair before him as the oldest and dearest of chums.
“They are called persimmons, Georgie. Here, Colonel, have you ever tried one?” Elizabeth took one from Georgiana and offered it to Fitzwilliam. He took it suspiciously, turning it over as though she were handing him a snake.
Darcy had drawn one of each type of fruit from the folds of Georgiana’s pelisse and held them up to his delighted eyes. “I have never seen a persimmon. I did order a pair of pomegranate trees planted at Pemberley last year, but it will be some years before we have any fruit of them. We are so much further north that my gardener had his doubts that they would even survive the shipping. We put them in the conservatory, and I have high hopes they will thrive. It was a great deal of trouble getting them, I can tell you, but now I see how wonderful the fruit is, and I am glad.” He turned the persimmon over in his hand, wondering how difficult it would be to start his own trees from the seeds of that very fruit. He might have better luck, he decided, in taking a cutting from the tree.
Elizabeth watched him curiously, never having witnessed Darcy in the natural elements. His fascination with the fruits was highly out of character with the man she thought she knew. “Have either of you gentlemen any sort of knife?” she ventured. Elizabeth expected a negative from both, but Darcy procured a fine silver one. She cocked her head, inquisitively.
He offered her the same bashful smile that she now recognized as belonging to his sister. “One learns to carry a pocketknife at all times when tending the estate. It has proven amazingly useful.” Removing his gloves, he drew the blade out for her and gently gave it into her hand. The way the corner of Elizabeth’s mouth tugged as she reappraised him made his heart beat a quick thud.
Elizabeth herself was slow to recover. Mr Darcy, the prim and proper, evaluating horticulture and walking around at all times with a practical tool on his person? She was more than a little surprised.
Recollecting herself, she carefully sliced through the persimmon in her hand.It would be just my luck to accidentally nick myself now. No doubt Mr Darcy has another handkerchief as well, and he would be able to play the gallant again.Despite her mind’s dire predictions, she made the cut safely and handed back the knife. Her bared fingers tingled slightly where the tips of his brushed against them. Quickly she looked back to the fruit.
“My grandfather told me this tale when I was quite young, just before he died. The native peoples in America had a legend about these trees. When the seed is shaped like a fork, as this one is, we should expect a light winter. A spoon-shaped seed means we should expect to shovel a heavy snow, and one shaped like a knife means cutting winds.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “And do you believe the legend, Miss Elizabeth?”
She surveyed him with mock gravity. “Never argue with a tree, Colonel. I daresay if you do, one of you will prove to be the fool, and it will not be the tree.”
Even Darcy laughed at this. Curiously, she regarded him closely again. She did not recall him ever laughing aloud in her presence. Shifting her eyes to Georgiana, she lifted her brow questioningly. Georgiana’s matter-of-fact expression was her only reply—as if to say,See, I told you.
A light tapping sound alerted the entire party to a turn in the weather. They all tipped their heads to observe the small drops pattering on the bare branches of the trees. “We had best turn back. Let me help you with those, Georgie.” The colonel stuffed the pockets of his overcoat until they bulged. Darcy did the same, and soon the girl’s hands were free.
With a daring little grin in Elizabeth’s direction, Georgiana deliberately stepped closer to her cousin and took his elbow. The older man smiled affectionately down at the young girl and led her carefully out of the slippery hollow, leaving the others to catch up.
Elizabeth felt her throat constrict. Darcy was nervously twitching his gloved fingers, looking between her face and the sodden earth. Politeness dictated that he should offer to escort her over the slick ground, and that she should accept. Wordlessly, he gave a short bow and proffered his arm for her to take. Gingerly, she slid her fingertips around the curve of his coat sleeve, holding herself as aloofly as she possibly could.
As they mounted the short incline together, Elizabeth’s worn shoe slipped in the mud, and she faltered, trying to catch herself. Reacting quickly, Darcy steadied her, turning and grasping her shoulders so that she could regain her footing. Her hand had instinctively clutched the lapels of his coat. Their eyes met, and both quickly looked away, shivering from the awkwardness of their posture. He held her firmly until she indicated with a curt nod that she was ready to walk ahead, then released her. Elizabeth resumed her tenuous possession of his elbow and fastened her eyes to the ground.
They walked silently together several paces in the sprinkling rain. Elizabeth’s face was pensive, her mouth resolutely closed. Darcy glanced at her uncertainly, hoping she would break the stillness. Anything would be better than this stalwart silence. She was clearly leaving it to him to speak first.
