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Mr. Darcy made no indication that the display discomposed him. Instead, he went to her sisters and bent over the table. He clasped his hands behind his back.

Lydia was poised with a needle hovering over the bonnet. “That ribbon is meant to be folded in that way,” she said. “Can you not see how it resembles a leaf?”

“That is very clever, Miss Lydia. My sister has employed similar methods with her bonnets. Might I suggest using a lighter thread? Then you might make it look as though there are veins in the leaf.”

Lydia cocked her head to one side. “That is not a bad idea. I would hardly expect a man to think of it. Well done, Mr. Darcy.”

He also engaged Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner in conversation. Over the years, Elizabeth invented reasons the Poetical Villain had abandoned Jane. One was because Jane’s relations were in trade. She had harbored hate in her heart for that reason.

To see how amiably he interacted with her relations put an end to that notion.

Every argument, every unfair conclusion she had drawn was being dismantled right before her eyes.

Mr. Darcy had a solemn, serious side, but he took great care to present himself well. He listened to Mary speak of the books she was reading with Mr. Bennet. He entertained Kitty and Lydia’s incessant questions. Mrs. Bennet’s nerves were soothed with his solicitousness. Mr. Bennet enjoyed a competitive game of chess. Jane, too, was comfortable with him, despite their history.

Mr. Darcy’s manners never wavered. He is not performing for me, she realized. This is who he is.

“Mr. Darcy! You must join us for cards.” Lydia was suddenly there and demanding.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest—she and Mr. Darcy were in the midst of a philosophical discussion.

“If your sister does not mind.”

Lydia frowned. “Elizabeth has your attention most of the time. We are in need of a fourth at the table, and no one else can be bothered.”

“As you like it, Miss Lydia.” Darcy stood and cast an apologetic glance at Elizabeth.

She followed after a time, watching them play. It would seem her sisters meant to induct him into the Bennet house rules—a perfect blend of chaos and fun.

“That is not how I learned the rules of the game,” Darcy protested when Lydia employed one of their special rules.

“It is how they work at Longbourn. You must adapt.” Lydia played another card. “Ha! I win!”

Darcy looked at Elizabeth, perplexed. “I am afraid I am unsure what has happened.”

“It will take a round or two, I think, before you understand,” she comforted him.

“And you will not explain it?”

“No, I think not.” Elizabeth found it highly amusing to watch Darcy attempt to puzzle out the rules of the game. In the end, he held his own very well, and her younger sisters were agreeable.

Later, they spoke quietly in the corner.

“Tell me more about your sister,” Elizabeth asked. After seeing him with her own, she wondered about Miss Darcy.

“She is just older than Miss Lydia, and very shy. Over the summer, she became ill. I worried she would not recover for a time.”

Darcy told her about his sister’s preference for peace and how skilled she was at the pianoforte.

“She speaks three languages, a feat I have never been able to master. She looks very like my mother, too, so I know she will be a beauty when she comes out.”

“Goodness, sir, she sounds like a paragon. How am I to survive in her presence?”

Darcy shook his head. “Georgiana is not possessed of a nature to think herself better than anyone else,” he said. “In that way, I have succeeded in raising her. She was very young when my father died, and she cannot remember our mother.”

“Poor, motherless child. I cannot wait to meet her.” Elizabeth presumed she would eventually, though it was perhaps more forward-thinking than she would like.

“I had a letter from her the other day. It seems Miss Bingley wrote to tell her of my interest in a local lady. I fear her intentions were to see my sister protest my courtship. She failed, for Georgiana is now begging to come to Hertfordshire for Twelfth Night.”