“I am loath to contradict you, but you merely commented that my attention to detail was... How did you phrase it? The source of all my talents?” She looked amused.
“Sometimes I forget that you cannot hear my very thoughts.” Caroline stepped back, giving Georgiana room to turn around. “Very well. I shall repeat out loud that your drawings are exquisite, though you already know this to be true.”
“I know no such thing.”
Caroline rolled her eyes, turning to face the rest of the room. “This room has a very pleasant air to it. I might even call it contemplative. It speaks to the reverence with which you and your brother hold your family. And of course, you know that your mama and papa were both very handsome. I cannot imagine that there is a single person in your family who could not be described as exceedingly handsome.” She turned to look at the portrait of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, who was Georgiana and Fitzwilliam’s aunt. “See? Stern, yes, but an undeniably pretty woman.”Sternhardly covered it, for the lady seemed to glare out of her painting as if the very act of being captured on canvas personally affronted her. Yet in the dark slash of her eyebrows, the high cheekbones, the perfect rosebud mouth, one could see at a glance that here was good breeding indeed. “You know, these chairs really do not suit this room. They are far too high-backed. And where are the cushions? How can you expect someone to sit and regard these magnificent portraits in comfort?”
Georgiana’s look of annoyance did not go unnoticed. “Come. Let us go upstairs.”
“You needn’t be so huffy. I am doing what you asked of me,” Caroline protested as they left the picture gallery and climbed the stairs in the main hall.
“You are, but then you undo all your good work by providing additional comments about what ought to be improved.”
Caroline cocked her head. “I do not see the problem.”
“One may have an opinion,” Georgiana said, casting a long-suffering look at her, which Caroline did not feel she had at all merited, “and yet keep it to one’s self from time to time.”
“Not give my opinion?” Caroline repeated, horrified, as she trailed Georgiana along the hall. “Whyever not? Did you not ask me to give my opinion as my first task?”
“I asked you to give compliments,” Georgiana corrected. “And that was merely a foundational test, for it is easy enough to give a compliment about something which you already like. Now we will move on to something more advanced... if you think yourself capable of doing so.”
“Of course I am,” Caroline said indignantly. “Besides, it is almost too easy to achieve the task you set before me when everything in your house has been chosen with such taste and elegance. Few other houses could boast of having so much splendor and beauty to admire on a daily basis.”
Georgiana paused outside the door to her chamber. Despite Caroline’s prior visits to the Pemberley estate, she had never before been invited into Georgiana’s private chambers. The previous night, the room had been in relative darkness, and she had been too consumed with her own plight to really take in her surroundings. “You may begin,” Georgiana said, swinging the door open.
Caroline stepped inside, then groaned inwardly. Even a single glance told her that this room provided a much harder test than the rest of the house put together.
“Well, there are so many... things in this room,” she said, desperately scanning for something to praise. Everywhere sheturned, she was met with a clutter of mismatched old furniture. Evidently Mrs Reynolds hadn’t been permitted to bring her measuring tape into this room, for the candles which stood upon the mantelpiece were of differing heights and had apparently been put there entirely at random, so that some stood far too close to others. The desk, which was probably the only beautiful piece of furniture in the room, was so covered in parchment and books that not a single square inch of its surface was visible. The table by the window held the ugliest vase in the world, which was evidently meant to resemble some sort of headless, scaly reptile and was a colour Caroline could only describe as fish-vomit green. The grotesque vase was only slightly ameliorated by the beautiful roses it held, each as dark red as a pricked finger, filling the room with a sultry scent.
“So many lovely things, indeed,” she continued, sweeping the room with another glance. “The curtains are such a delicate shade of red, though they are a little thicker than you need. One really ought to let the sun wake you, especially in the summer mornings. It is best for—”
Georgiana cleared her throat.
“And have I mentioned the rug?” Caroline added hastily, lest she fail this test mere seconds into beginning it. “It ties the room together wonderfully.”
Threadbare rug, she pronounced mentally.Heavy curtains. God forbid one should have a modicum of taste and share it for the betterment of others. Is that not, after all, a selfless act of utter charity?
“Anything else?” Georgiana asked. “What about this blanket? My old nanny stitched it for me.”
Caroline had been purposefully avoiding looking at the patchwork blanket on the bed. It was possible that the thing had once been a vibrant rainbow of colours as would please anyinfant eyes, though it was hard to imagine now. Really, how could one possibly be expected to compliment a ratty old blanket? And why on earth would Georgiana bother to keep such a thing when she could so easily purchase a beautiful new one?
“You forget that I have not complimented you yet,” Caroline said, deciding that changing the subject was the only way to escape this conversational trap.
Georgiana blinked. “Me?”
“You did say that I was required to compliment something in every room and every person in the room, did you not? And are you not the only other person in the room, and are thus deserving of my compliment?”
“Well, I...” A blush tinged Georgiana’s cheeks, making her look even lovelier. “Go on, then.”
Praise for Georgiana’s beauty and figure came almost too easily, for Caroline had long admired Miss Darcy’s proportions. “You are tall and stately, like a young queen.”
“I said a compliment, not flattery.”
“Firstly, they are one and the same thing. One cannot compliment something without flattering it, and vice versa. Secondly, I mean it,” Caroline insisted. “You have a very regal bearing. I have always admired it. Though you really mustn’t stoop, Georgie. Embrace your height. Do not be ashamed of it.”
“I do not like being so tall,” Georgiana muttered. “When I am in a crowd of young ladies, it makes me feel like a goose among ducklings.”
“Do not say a goose, say instead a swan.” Caroline crooked her hand, imitating a swan’s neck with the curve of her wrist. “On the contrary, my dear, it makes you stand out. And what young lady does not desire to stand out among her peers?”
