“I... I need to think about this, Mamma. Please, do not say anything to Mr. Darcy or Miss Darcy just yet. Promise me?”
Her mother nodded. “I only want what is best for you and the family.”
Once, she might have thought her mother was simply being dramatic. But now, Elizabeth believed her.
Darcy settled into the armchair in Georgiana’s sitting room, resigning himself to what he expected to be a tedious hour. His sister emerged from her dressing room, a smile on her face anda pale blue bonnet with white ribbons perched atop her golden curls.
“What do you think, brother?” she asked, twirling around so he could view the bonnet from the back. Why he would need to admire the back of a bonnet, he did not know.
“It is very becoming.” Darcy hoped that was approbation enough, but he worried it was not. After a moment he added, “The colour is quite pretty on you.” Mrs. Reynolds had once said the same about a gown Georgiana had in the same shade.
Georgiana beamed, and he breathed a little sigh of relief. “Mrs. Bennet said the same thing! Oh, and you must see the yellow one. It has the loveliest ribbons.”
As she disappeared back into her dressing room to put the first bonnet away and put on the next, Darcy tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. When she reappeared, he complimented this one too, though in fact he did not find it as attractive as the first. The yellow was not enough of a contrast to her hair, but the ribbons were embroidered, which he supposed made them special. As his sister removed the bonnet and held it out before her to admire it, he asked, “Georgie, while you show me your purchases, may we discuss your early return to Pemberley?”
There was a pause, and Georgiana’s eyes remained fixed on the bonnet in her hands. “It is nothing, really. The lessons were just a bit . . . dull, I suppose.”
Darcy frowned. Georgiana had always loved learning, even the driest of subjects. “Dull in what way?”
Georgiana vanished into the other room and reappeared wearing a charming short-brimmed bonnet with deep pink ribbons.
Darcy smiled and nodded, then repeated his question.
His sister’s smile seemed a touch forced. “Well, we kept going over the same things. French verbs and compositions and such. It felt . . . repetitive.”
“I see,” Darcy said, his mind working through this latest information. “And did you express this to your teachers?”
“At first,” she said after a slight hesitation. “But they said I required the repetition, for my examination marks were so poor.”
“No one ever wrote to me with concerns about your marks,” he mused.
“I know thatnow, for you would have said something when I returned. But I was ashamed to write because I still do not know what I did wrong. I was so certain I knew the answers. It seemed quite clear to me. And if I was so sure and at the same time completely wrong, perhaps . . .” She removed this bonnet as well and wound the ribbons around one finger, “Perhaps Iamas stupid as the other girls said.”
Darcy was surprised. He had expected that she was worked too hard, or that she had been homesick for Pemberley. And Georgiana had seemedmoreconfident when she returned, not less. Though that extended only to things like serving tea and holding trite conversations, come to think of it. “Did you complain to the headmistress? For I know how diligent you are. If you were not prepared for the examinations, some of the fault must also rest with the teachers.”
Her shoulders slumped. “No, I did not wish to be thought difficult. And the other girls . . .” She trailed off, fiddling with one pink ribbon.
“What about the other girls, sweetling?”
“They thought I was timid and arrogant,” Georgiana said in a rush. “Though I do not know how I could be both. And they called me a bluestocking because I did not like to gossip with them or giggle at their jokes about the dancing master. And the teachers began to chide me as well once I began to fail my exams.”
Now he was angry. But he had to temper it so Georgiana would not think his anger was because of her. “Georgiana, you are none of those things.”
She shrugged. “I did not think so, but everyone else agreed. I am just not good at learning, I suppose.”
Suddenly, Darcy recalled his own time at school, and something clicked into place. “Georgiana, when you say the lessons felt repetitive, do you mean you already understood the material?”
Georgiana’s brow furrowed. “Well, yes, I thought so. But surely if I understood it, the examinations would not show my ignorance so completely. It is so humiliating when I still cannot understand what I have done wrong!”
Now Darcy wasveryangry. But he tucked it away again, saving it for a scathing letter he would be writing. “My dear sister, I suspect the problem is not that you are poor at learning but that you are too advanced at it. You require more challenging material. Perhaps more challenging than your teachers could provide.”
His sister looked up at him, her blue eyes wide. “But the examinations . . .”
“Georgiana, I suspect that the girls and even your instructors are perhaps not as academically inclined as you,” Darcy said when it was clear she did not mean to continue. “There is nothing wrong with that, but thereissomething wrong in attempting to convince you that the problem is you and not them. We shall have to find a better situation for you. One that will challenge and engage you properly. Do you have the examinations?”
She nodded. “They are . . . oh, I did not even unpack at Pemberley—I have them here!”
“I would like to see them, if you do not mind.”
