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“I have spent the last three years worried about creating expectations with any young lady. Our family has indulged this behaviour. It takes someone looking at the situation from the outside to show me that I was being absurd. I will still be careful but try not to take it too far.”

Georgiana bit her bottom lip, an indication of being nervous about something.

“Do you think that Miss Bennet would like me William?”

Rather than just instinctively respond in the affirmative, Darcy actually considered the question.

“There are two things that make me sure that she would like you. The first is something simple. During the ball at Netherfield you know that I talked with Miss Bennet. One of the things I mentioned that evening was receiving a letter from you. But I did not just mundanely describe it as such, rather I referred to my pleasure in receiving the letter. It had been a week of rain, I had been unable to ride and I was stuck at Netherfield Park with Miss Bingley. I was dying man in the desert and your letter was a glass of cold water. I came perilously close to gushing about it, and you.”

At 10.47 that morning Fitzwilliam Darcy’s record for smiles in one day was broken as both siblings chuckled at his over the top description.

“Yes, I might have exaggerated slightly but there was no masking my pleasure.”

Darcy reached over and gently grasped his sister’s hands.

“The other point is more sombre and probably more pertinent.”

Georgiana was taken aback at the sudden change in tone.

“Miss Bennet’s aunt was killed several years ago, ’07 I think although I have never asked. Her uncle was left with four children. There was an older teenage boy but the other three were seven, six and three. That very day she moved to London and was the mistress of her uncle’s home for four years, until he remarried. She was the mother figure to three young children who had lost their mother. You have been without our Mother for even longer. She will automatically think well of you, ask how you are doing. There is no doubt in my mind that she would like you.”

He squeezed Georgiana’s hands and then released them so that she could dab her handkerchief to her watery eyes. He waited patiently as she composed herself. Darcy saw her take a deep breath and look him in the eye.

“And what of last summer?”

Darcy knew that this still troubled his sister.

“What do you mean Georgie?”

“What would she think of me if she knew about last summer?”

Wickham’s sneering face flashed through Darcy’s mind. He had heard nothing of Wickham while in Hertfordshire, no damning of the Darcy name, and he had pushed the man out of his mind upon his return to London.

“You can never know how anyone would react to such news. I would hope that you never felt pressured to tell anyone. My instinct is that Miss Bennet would support you and apportion the blame where it belongs, but I cannot know that for sure.”

He looked at his sister.

“Why do you ask?”

“It troubles me, my lack of judgement. It weighs on me, as I know that if people knew my terrible secret then they would treat me differently. When meeting new people, I feel dishonest somehow.”

Darcy did not know what to say to this latest revelation. His sister shook off her mood and they separated to continue their days. But Darcy was aware, and sad it was still the case, that his sister was far from over her ordeal the previous summer.

--

The last week of February and the first week of March had an abundance of events. The season was in full swing and if a person was so inclined they could socialise all six days of the week. Neither Darcy or Elizabeth were so inclined, with Elizabeth attending two evening events each week and Darcy three. In addition, they were in each other’s company at several other occasions during those weeks. Lady Maria made no mention of it to Elizabeth but Mr. Darcy was calling on her without either of them being aware of it. She might not discuss the matter with Elizabeth but Darcy’s aunt arrived mere minutes after her note accepting the invitation.

“I am convinced neither of them are aware of their behaviour.”

Susan Fitzwilliam smiled as she returned her cup to the saucer.

“My instinct is to scoff at such a contention but they do appear to be completely oblivious to the fact. Do you think we should mention anything?”

“I have no idea how to proceed. They appear to be dancing round the edges of a courtship even though it is almost by accident. Elizabeth does not rail against the stupidities of gentlemen as much as she did at the start of the season but she still behaves in a unique manner.”

“Unique?”

“She is dressed before the dawn and unless the weather is truly ghastly she will take the carriage to Hyde Park for a walk. On dry days it is a spirited hike of several miles. And upon her return she will sit with her papers and journals and read them carefully, taking notes all the time. She is still straddling the line between society and trade.”