Darcy came to Elizabeth first, his expression warmer than propriety allowed and yet not so warm that anyone but Elizabeth, Jane, Charlotte, half the servants, and probably Mrs. Bennet might have noticed it.
“Miss Elizabeth,” he said, bowing. “May I present my sister, Miss Darcy? Georgiana, this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Georgiana dipped a graceful curtsy, though her hands tightened together as she rose. “I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Elizabeth.”
Her voice was soft, almost too soft for the room, and she looked as though she feared Elizabeth might not return the sentiment.
Elizabeth’s heart warmed at once. “And I am very pleased to meet you, Miss Darcy. I had no notion we were to be so fortunate today.”
Georgiana’s blush deepened. “I hope we are not intruding. I—that is, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I—Mr. Bingley was kind enough to—”
“To aid and abet us,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said cheerfully from behind her. “You see before you a conspiracy, Miss Elizabeth—if I may be so bold as to speak to you without an official introduction. When Darcy’s letter arrived, my young cousin here expressed a wish to meet you. How could I say otherwise to such a charming girl? Besides, I wished very much to see Darcy rendered speechless by our sudden arrival. We were both satisfied.”
Darcy gave him a look of long-suffering resignation.
Elizabeth glanced between the cousins, then allowed herself a smile. “Do you mean to say such a state is uncommon? I had begun to think Mr. Darcy’s silence one of his more reliable accomplishments.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed outright. Georgiana looked startled, then delighted, as if she had not known whether shewas permitted to laugh at her brother and was grateful someone else had decided the matter. Darcy’s mouth curved despite his attempt at severity.
“I see I have been betrayed on all sides,” he said.
“Not betrayed,” Elizabeth replied. “Only accurately represented.”
Mrs. Bennet, who had been staring at Georgiana as if Darcy had brought a duchess instead of a sister, recovered herself enough to flutter forward with every expression of welcome. Miss Darcy was so elegant, so tall, so graceful, and surely fatigued from travel, and would she not sit? Colonel Fitzwilliam was introduced next and received with great pleasure, especially once Mrs. Bennet realized he was the son of an earl. Lydia brightened at the word colonel, then dimmed slightly when she perceived he was not in uniform. Kitty whispered something that made Lydia giggle. Mary looked solemnly prepared to say something improving about military life, but fortunately did not.
The room soon became a confusion of greetings, chairs, inquiries, and Mrs. Bennet’s exclamations. Elizabeth, seeing Georgiana’s color rise with each new address, took pity upon her.
“We were just preparing to walk into Meryton,” she said. “There are new ribbons at the milliner’s, or so Lydia has informed us at least a dozen times this morning. Would you and Colonel Fitzwilliam care to join us?”
“Oh, yes!” Lydia cried before anyone else could answer. “There are blue ones, and pink, and some with little stripes. I saw them in the window yesterday, but Mama would not let us stop long enough, because Mr. Collins was discoursing upon the moral dangers of extravagant trimming.”
Mr. Collins, who had been standing near the mantel with an air of injured patience, straightened. “I merely observed, cousin Lydia, that a young lady’s ornamentation ought always to reflectmodesty, sobriety, and due submission to the judgment of those better acquainted with propriety. Lady Catherine de Bourgh has frequently remarked—”
“Yes, yes,” Mrs. Bennet said hastily. “Very improving, Mr. Collins. Mary, you had better remain at home and study Fordyce, had you not?”
Mary looked up in surprise. “I had thought to walk.”
“Nonsense. You said only this morning that the passage on female humility required contemplation. Mr. Collins may assist you if any portion is obscure.”
Mr. Collins’s expression wavered between reluctance to lose the exalted company and gratification at being acknowledged as an authority. “I should, of course, be honored to be of service in any matter of clerical instruction.”
“Excellent,” Mrs. Bennet said, with a satisfied little smile that Elizabeth admired despite herself. “Then you shall stay with Mary. The rest of you may go, but do not be long. Miss Darcy must not be fatigued. Lizzy, mind you attend to her.”
“I shall do my best, Mama.”
Elizabeth met Jane’s eye and saw her sister’s amusement. Mrs. Bennet had discovered, with surprising speed, that Mr. Collins was best managed by placing him beside Mary and any printed sermon within reach. If Mary did not mind—and Mary seemed pleased by the prospect of having her reflections received with such solemnity—then Elizabeth was certainly not disposed to object.
They set out a few minutes later: Jane with Mr. Bingley, Kitty and Lydia ahead with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth with Georgiana, and Darcy walking near enough to hear but not near enough to intrude. Elizabeth suspected he had arranged it deliberately. His concern for Georgiana was plain in every glance, but he did not hover over her. He gave her room to speak, room to falter, and room to be answered by someone else.
That alone told Elizabeth something of his love for his sister.
At first Georgiana said very little. She answered Elizabeth’s questions politely, but with a shyness that seemed to fold her inward after every word. Elizabeth did not press. She spoke instead of the road, of Meryton’s shops, of Lydia’s enthusiasm for ribbons, and of Jane’s recovery, allowing silence to fall comfortably between them whenever Georgiana needed it.
After a little while, the girl’s shoulders eased.
“Is this your first time visiting Hertfordshire?” Elizabeth asked.
“Yes,” Georgiana said, then glanced quickly toward her brother as if to be certain the answer was acceptable. “I have not seen much of it yet, of course, but it is very pretty. Softer than Derbyshire.”
