Page 10 of Honor Requires

Elizabeth rested her chin lightly upon her hand. I wonder what he will say when we meet again. A small smile curved her lips as anticipation began to stir. Tuesday suddenly seemed a very long way off.

The evening of the dinner party was met with an ambiance that suggested itself as perfect for agreeable company. The sea breeze had gentled with the fading of the day, and the open windows of the drawing room admitted only the faintest stir of coolness, enough to temper the warmth of candlelight without extinguishing it. Lamps had been lit below, and abovestairs every chamber of Mill House glowed with an air of readiness. Silver had been polished, crystal set out, and the dining room arranged with particular care. Even the flowers upon the mantel had been refreshed that afternoon at Georgiana’s request.

Darcy stood before the hearth in the drawing room, hands clasped behind his back, and did his utmost to appear at ease.

He was not at ease.

He had changed his cravat twice, to Brisby’s concealed amusement, and had been driven at last to admit that no possible arrangement of linen could materially alter the course of the evening. Still, he could not persuade himself that the matter was of no consequence. The Gardiners and Miss Bennet were expected momentarily, and he found himself listening for wheels in the street with an attention he would have denied to anyone who asked.

Georgiana sat at the pianoforte, though she had not played a note in several minutes. She looked up from the music in front of her and regarded him with affectionate mischief.

“You have crossed the room six times in the last quarter hour, Brother.”

Darcy turned his head. “Have I?”

“Yes. I counted.”

“I was not aware I had become an object of study.”

“You are not usually,” she said, her smile widening, “but tonight you are tolerably interesting.”

He lifted a brow. “That is a severe judgment from my own sister.”

“It is an accurate one.” Georgiana closed her book altogether and rose from her seat. “You need not pretend indifference to me. I know very well you are anticipating our guests.”

Darcy might have denied it had she not been laughing already.

“I am merely desirous that the evening proceed smoothly,” he said. “You seemed to enjoy Miss Bennet’s acquaintance, and I wish you to have agreeable companions while we are here.”

Georgiana came nearer, her expression lightening. “You need not defend yourself so carefully. I liked Miss Bennet very much indeed.”

That admission, made so readily, pleased him more than it ought to have done.

“She has a lively manner,” he said, aiming at neutrality and not wholly achieving it.

“She has a kind one,” Georgiana replied. “And it is easy to converse with her. Not every lady is so approachable.”

That was true enough. Many young women of Georgiana’s acquaintance either overwhelmed her with professions of fondness or left her silent under the weight of their superior assurance. Miss Bennet had done neither. She had spoken naturally, without condescension or effort, and had drawn Georgiana into conversation like it was the simplest thing in the world.

Darcy’s thoughts were interrupted by the rustle of skirts at the doorway. Mrs. Younge entered with the composed step that seemed natural to her. She had dressed with care, though not ostentation, in a gown of deep mulberry silk that became her dark coloring. Her spectacles caught the candlelight as she looked from brother to sister.

“Everything is in readiness, sir,” she said. “Cook has sent word that dinner may be served the moment you wish it.”

“Very good,” Darcy replied. “I thank you.” He hoped they would enjoy conversation before the meal.

Mrs. Younge folded her hands before her. “I trust the evening will be pleasant.”

“I have no reason to suppose otherwise.”

"No," she responded, her utterance conveying a distinct sense of deliberation. “Though I have always found it wise to be cautious in forming new intimacies, particularly when traveling.”

Darcy glanced at her more directly.

“In what respect?”

Mrs. Younge inclined her head, as if reluctant to say more and yet determined to proceed. “People are often quick to attach themselves to a distinguished name, sir. Acquaintances formed in watering places are not always what they seem. A gentleman in your position, and a young lady in Miss Darcy’s, must be especially guarded against those who might seek consequence by claiming friendship.”

Georgiana’s expression changed at once. Not distress exactly, but discomfort. Darcy saw it and answered before she could.