Reaching over, Elizabeth took her sister’s trembling hand. And then, because Elizabeth’s attention strayed, Nettle peeked out from underneath her skirts and licked Lady Sophia’s fingers.
Elizabeth’s heart performed a most undignified leap. “She… pray forgive her, Lady Sophia. She does not usually do that.”
“She does not do it for most people.” Lady Sophia scratched behind the terrier’s torn ear. “I told you in my letter, Miss Bennet. I trust her judgment entirely. It appears she has decided to return the compliment.”
Nettle wagged her tail—the full, unguarded wag she reserved for Elizabeth and Jane and, on occasion, Hill when biscuits were involved.
“Nettle approves of you,” Elizabeth said. “She has excellent judgment in these matters.”
“Does she approve of Mr. Darcy?”
“She is still deliberating. His demeanor has complicated her assessment.”
Lady Sophia laughed—a delighted sound that seemed to surprise even her. “Miss Bennet, I believe we shall get along splendidly. Now, shall I show you the house?” She extended one hand without looking. “Fitzwilliam, my cane.”
Darcy produced it—the carved rosewood with its worn brass handle—and helped her to her feet.
“Come,” Lady Sophia said to Elizabeth. “I shall show you the parts that matter.”
She led them to the library first. The room was at once large and cozy. Two stories tall, lined with books from floor to ceiling, with plump leather chairs flanking a fireplace, and largewindows overlooking the garden where the first crocuses were pushing through the earth.
“You will be content here, Miss Elizabeth. My father was much like yours, believing that a woman who reads is a woman who thinks, and therefore cannot be entirely controlled.” Lady Sophia’s eyes glinted with a wicked sort of mischief. “One might even call such a woman inconvenient. Isn’t that so, Fitzwilliam?”
Darcy offered no reply, his gaze averted. Elizabeth was once again struck by how much her benefactress knew about her.
“Lady Sophia,” she said, and the question she had carried since Longbourn surfacing before she could weigh the propriety. “Your letter mentioned a connection to my family and correspondence with friends in my neighborhood. May I ask who they are?”
“You may ask, and I may decline to answer. Suffice it to say, Miss Bennet, that while you were busy being ‘tolerable’ in Hertfordshire, I was being told that you were anything but.” Her eyes flashed, as if she’d found Elizabeth a kindred spirit. “This library is yours, Miss Bennet. Every volume. I ask only that you do not rearrange the lower shelves, as I have spent forty years establishing a system that no one else understands, and I should hate to lose the advantage of a well-placed mystery.”
The music room was adjacent to the library, connected by a pair of double doors that stood open. A Broadwood pianoforte dominated it the way a grand old tree dominated a garden. Dark mahogany with brass fittings, and even Elizabeth, whose musical education was adequate but never passionate, could see that it was extraordinary.
Mary stopped in the doorway. Her hand went rigid in Elizabeth’s.
“Go on,” Elizabeth whispered, nudging her forward.
Mary looked at Lady Sophia, who nodded, and then she crossed the room, almost stealthily. When she reached theBroadwood, she pressed a single key, the middle C. The note filled the room, rich and clear, and the defeated expression Mary wore dissolved into pure, unguarded wonder.
A young lady entered from the garden door, dark and elegant, and Elizabeth knew at once that this was the sister Darcy had written about. Things that she had no right to know, in Darcy’s haste to justify her objections to his suit.
“Miss Darcy,” Lady Sophia said. “Do come in. May I present Miss Mary Bennet? She is a fellow devotee of the pianoforte. I suspect you will find much to discuss.”
“You like the Broadwood?” Georgiana whispered, coming to stand beside Mary. “The action is… it is very responsive. It does not resist the hand.”
“It has a voice,” Mary replied. “Most instruments merely make a noise. This one speaks.”
“Do you know the new Clementi sonatas?”
“The one in G minor?” Mary’s eyes ignited. “TheAllegro con spiritois… demanding.”
“I find theAdagiomore truthful,” Georgiana replied.
Before long, the two were sitting side by side on the bench, their skirts touching and their hands resting on the keys. A sting filled Elizabeth’s eyes.
She caught Darcy’s gaze across the room. He stood near the door, observing his sister with the conflicted attention of a brother torn between affection and apprehension. For a moment, they shared a look, as if he feared she would betray his trust. She hadn’t, not even to Jane.
Nettle barked once, a sharp sound, wagged her tail, and eagerly trotted to the garden door.
“Ah, the garden,” Lady Sophia said. “I suspect it will become one of your favorite places.” She placed a hand on Elizabeth’s elbow. “Walk with me, dear.”
