Page 32 of A Question of Character

“She may,” Georgiana said, taking the embroidery from him, “but I may not.”

Then she was gone, leaving Darcy with the violets, the empty chair, and the uncomfortable suspicion that his sister’s happiness had become attached to more than one secret.

He had a moment to consider it before the Gardiners entered the drawing room.

Miss Bennet came last.

Darcy had, over the past several weeks, trained himself to greet her without betraying the exact degree to which her presence improved a room. This required effort. Today she wore a gown of pale yellow muslin, simple enough for afternoon tea and charming enough to render simplicity an accusation against excess. Her bonnet had been removed downstairs, and her dark curls were arranged with a blue ribbon he remembered from some earlier outing. She greeted Georgiana first, which pleased him and annoyed him, since he was not yet saintly enough to prefer virtue over being noticed.

“Miss Darcy,” she said, taking the younger girl’s hands. “I have been promised new music and shall be inconsolable if I am deceived.”

Georgiana brightened. “I have it in the music room. Mrs. Younge said it is too difficult, but I do not think so.”

“Then we shall judge her severity together.”

“You need not wait for Mrs. Younge’s opinion today,” Darcy said. “Thursday afternoons are hers. She generally spends them calling upon acquaintances or attending to her own affairs.”

Georgiana nodded. “She insists I ought not begrudge her a half day after enduring me the remainder of the week.”

“And do you?”

Georgiana smiled. “Never. She always returns with some interesting story.”

Elizabeth looked past Georgiana toward Darcy with mischief in her eyes. “Good afternoon, Mr. Darcy. I trust you will not object if I steal your sister for half the visit.”

“I shall endeavor to bear it.”

Mrs. Gardiner removed her gloves and laid them upon a side table. “Do not pity him, Elizabeth. Mr. Darcy will have your uncle to console him.”

Mr. Gardiner, who had entered with a parcel beneath his arm, held it up. “I have brought samples of the porcelain pattern we discussed. If that does not console any man, he deserves his misery.”

“I am already improved,” Darcy said, accepting the parcel.

The party fell into the comfortable disorder that had begun to characterize their visits. Mrs. Gardiner took the chair near the window. Mr. Gardiner and Darcy examined the porcelain samples at a side table, though Darcy’s attention had an irritating habit of slipping toward the music room door. Georgiana and Miss Bennet had disappeared there with such speed that even Mrs. Gardiner made no attempt to restrain them.

After a few minutes, Elizabeth’s laughter sounded from the adjoining room, followed by Georgiana’s softer answer. Darcy bent over a painted saucer and tried to care whether the border leaned too heavily toward blue.

Mr. Gardiner tapped the porcelain with one finger. “You have not heard a word of my excellent judgment.”

“Half of it,” Darcy said.

“Which half?”

“The excellent portion.”

“That is a convenient answer from a man who was listening through the wall.”

Darcy looked up.

Mr. Gardiner’s expression contained nothing but friendly amusement. “Do not appear so alarmed. I have been married long enough to know when a gentleman’s attention has departed the table.”

“I beg your pardon.”

“No need. I would not have brought porcelain if I required adoration.”

Mrs. Gardiner’s needle moved steadily through her work, though her eyes gave every appearance of following the exchange. “Mr. Gardiner, do not tease Mr. Darcy before tea. It may unsettle him.”

“I have seen no evidence that Mr. Darcy is easily unsettled.”