Page 30 of A Question of Character

That afternoon, before the Gardiners were expected for tea, Darcy found Georgiana in the small sitting room she preferred when Mrs. Younge did not require her presence elsewhere. His sister sat with her embroidery in her lap, though very little progress had been made. The needle hung from the linen, thread loose, while Georgiana stared toward the window.

The sight checked his step.

“Georgiana?”

She stirred and drew the needle through the cloth with unnecessary industry. “Yes, brother?”

“I have interrupted deep work, I see.”

“It is a border.”

“A border may be profound. I have been lectured by ladies who considered it a matter of national consequence.”

Georgiana gave a brief smile, then bent over the embroidery again.

Darcy took the chair across from her. The room smelled faintly of beeswax and the early violets Mrs. Reynolds had sent up from Pemberley in a covered basket, a foolish expense he had approved with no hesitation after remembering how his mother had liked them. Georgiana had arranged them herself in a low glass bowl and had changed the water twice a day. Now the blossoms drooped at the edges.

“You have been distant these last few days,” he said.

Her needle stopped.

“I do not mean to be.”

“No accusation was intended.”

She resumed stitching, though he doubted the work improved beneath such nervous attention. “I am perfectly well.”

“So you have said whenever Mrs. Younge or I have asked.”

Georgiana’s mouth stiffened at Mrs. Younge’s name, or perhaps Darcy imagined it. He had become too ready to interpret every small change in his sister, particularly since her spirits had become uneven again. She was cheerful in Miss Bennet’s company, eager in music, affectionate with Mrs. Gardiner, and then withdrawn the moment their guests departed. Darcy had told himself this was natural. Young ladies did not overcome shyness merely because one charming acquaintance entered the room.

Still.

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, abandoning the dignity he used when addressing tenants and solicitors. “Is it because I have been much occupied?”

Georgiana looked up. “Occupied?”

“With the Gardiners. With Miss Bennet.”

Her cheeks colored. “No.”

“You may tell me if it is.”

“It is not that.”

“I have not neglected you intentionally.”

“I know.” She set the embroidery down, smoothing the linen over her knees. “Fitzwilliam, you have not neglected me at all.”

“I have thought of it more than once.”

“Then you have worried unnecessarily.”

“That is one of my more practiced talents.”

The faintest amusement touched her face. “Richard says the same.”

“He says a great many things he has not been asked to say.”