This seemed to give Georgiana pause.
“I am not entirely certain,” she admitted. “It usually does not take us more than a day to reach their estate.”
“A day’s travel . . . in a carriage?”
“Yes.” Georgiana now looked slightly worried.
“You plan to walk all that way in those shoes?”
They both looked down at Georgiana’s rather fine but impractical soft boots.
“Well, I don’t suppose . . .” Georgiana sighed, plopping down on a log with a huff. “I hadn’t truly thought it through. I only thought . . . well, we visit our Fitzwilliam relations every summer at some point, and I only thought it might be nicer to be there than here.”
“I can understand that,” Elizabeth offered, sitting down as well. “I love my Aunt Gardiner and might have considered setting out on my own to reach her had I been faced with yourdilemma. However, is there no one at home who might listen to you? You mentioned a brother?”
“Yes, William,” Georgiana said with a smile. “He is the kindest and best brother.”
Elizabeth thought of the handsome gentleman she saw beneath the tree.
“Why have you not sought his advice or protection in light of your situation with Miss Devon?” How Elizabeth would have loved a brother to advise and protect her. She simply could not imagine why Georgiana would not have brought her troubles to her older brother whom she seemed to love and admire so much.
“What if . . .”
“What if what?” Elizabeth asked.
“What if he cares for her . . . for Miss Devon, and my explaining all to him causes a rift or makes him feel he cannot pursue her?”
Elizabeth doubted the heir to Pemberley would consider a governess, even in her more circumscribed world, this was not generally done. However, Georgiana had said Miss Devon was quite beautiful and very clever about only presenting her best qualities to her brother. What little Elizabeth did know about men too old to be her playmates and too young to be the fathers and uncles of her world was not very much at all. However, what did seem clear was that they could be quite stupid over a pretty face.
“Has your brother ever shown an inclination towards Miss Devon?”
“I am not certain what an inclination would look like.” Georgiana confessed. Truth be told Elizabeth was not certain either, but it seemed important to ascertain whether there was anything to be muddled by telling all to her brother before they discarded the possibility.
“This spring, a cousin of our neighbours was visiting. He was sixteen,” Elizabeth began, rising to pace while she spoke to work out her ideas. “The first time we had dinner with them and were introduced, he stared at my sister Jane throughout the whole meal. The whole time! I thought it made Jane uncomfortable, but of course she would not hear a bad word said about anyone and insisted he was just a bit awkward because he did know many people—half the people were his family, mind you . . . anyway,” she resumed, having realised she had gotten off track. “The next time we saw them was at church and he stared at her the whole service. The whole service. But this time he didn’t just stare. The moment we stepped outside, he rushed right up to Jane and asked to escort her home. Escort her! Like it wasn’t simply a walk down a country lane crowded with our neighbours and friends making their way after the service as well. Jane agreed and took his arm and walked with him for the mile or so back to Longbourn. She wouldn’t tell me too much about what he said, but he did tell her he thought she was pretty—that’s about all she would reveal to me. After he left, I heard my mother and Lady Lucas talking about how Mr. Davids, that was his name, how Mr. Davids was fond of Jane. So . . . does your brother stare at Miss Devon?”
“No, I don’t think so. He looks at her if they are speaking, but I have never noticed anything beyond that,” Georgiana, having been listening in rapt attention, responded after a moment’s thought.
“Has he told her, or you, that she is beautiful?”
“No, I am sure of that because I did hear Miss Devon tell Amelia, one of the upstairs maids, that the least he could do was compliment her on her gown and complain he seemed to not notice her beauty at all. She said he was being . . . intentionally evasive, I think she said.” Georgiana seemed pleased at having recalled this potentially probative bit of information.
“This is good,” Elizabeth declared. “By the by, I do not understand why complimenting a beautiful woman on her beauty is part of how a gentleman courts beautiful ladies. I mean, if they are beautiful, they know it, everyone knows it. Why must it be spoken of? It is not as if a beautiful lady can help being beautiful. God deserves the compliment. Shouldn’t praise be reserved for accomplishments or character?” Realising she had lost track of their conversation again, Elizabeth was ready to apologise to her new friend for her chaotic ramblings, but Georgiana surprised her.
“I had not ever thought of it that way,” she admitted.
“Well, I think only us plain girls need to consider such things,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “You are clearly quite pretty already and will be one of the beautiful ladies very soon. When you have suitors lining up at the gates of Pemberley to tell you how beautiful you are you must tell me whether it is a truly wonderful thing and I was wrong all along.”
“Thank you, Miss Elizabeth, you are kind. And also, you are about the furthest thing from plain I have ever seen,” Georgiana offered shyly. “I do see what you mean about beauty. It is not something one can help or achieve, I suppose. Although some ladies do really wonderful things with their hair and clothes that enhance their beauty. But I suppose the credit for that should go to their maids.”
They both considered this for a moment and then Georgiana mused, “I suppose pretty ladies must know they are pretty, but if you care for someone and they tell you they find you beautiful I think ... even if you didn’t do anything to make it so to be thought beautiful by someone you love or want to love or want to love you would probably be very nice.”
“Yes, it must,” Elizabeth agreed on a sigh, imagining she would likely never know. “But we mustn’t lose sight of our object—to determine if your brother might hold a tendre for Miss Devon.”
Georgiana giggled. “I honestly cannot imagine William holding a tendre for anyone. He is so serious and dutiful.”
“Well, that seals it, a serious dutiful son would not consider your governess a possible match regardless of her charms, beauty or otherwise. Therefore, I think it would do no harm and a great deal of good if you told him of your troubles with her.” Elizabeth felt quite proud of herself for this deduction. “You said he was a good brother?”
“The best!” Georgiana affirmed with enthusiasm.
