“Not at all,” said Darcy. “Considering this, I hope you will not cling to formality. Though my given name is the same as your cousin’s surname, my mother has long called me ‘William.’ It would please me if you did the same.”
“Very well. I am Georgiana, though Anthony sometimes calls me Georgie, or other such humiliating monikers.”
“There will be time later for me to inform Darcy of all the pet names I use for you,” teased Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Georgiana offered him a baleful glare of warning, but its efficacy was suspect given Fitzwilliam’s arched eyebrow in response.
“If I might,” said Mrs. Younge, injecting her opinion, “I spoke with the late Mr. Darcy about the potential of a holiday for Miss Darcy near the sea in Ramsgate before his passing.”
At Darcy’s questioning look, Fitzwilliam clarified: “Part of the Darcy family holdings includes a house in Ramsgate.
“At present, that is not an option,” said Fitzwilliam, turning to Mrs. Younge. “Georgiana is in mourning for her brother and will not be able to holiday until it is complete.”
“I agree,” said Darcy. “The time to consider such things will be later this summer.”
“Of course,” acknowledged Mrs. Younge. “I speak only to mention it as a possibility when the situation allows.”
Thereafter, the woman fell silent and remained watchful so long as they sat at the dinner table. She was, Darcy suspected, taciturn enough that she would say little to anyone other than her charge unless addressed. Though Darcy did not find her interesting or even friendly, he supposed her duties did not include a friendly attitude toward the estate’s master, or even a man who paid for her employment. The fees for her service no doubt came from the Darcy coffers; Darcy determined to discover it and ensure the estate continued to fund the expense.
After dinner, they retired to the sitting-room for the rest of the evening. For a time, Georgiana played the pianoforte for their enjoyment, showing a pleasing technical proficiency for one of her tender years. Having heard nothing more than the echoes of it through the house while speaking with Fitzwilliam, Darcy was effusive in his praise, though not so much as to render her embarrassed.
“That was exceptional, Georgiana. It is clear you practice far more than my fiancée, who owns her lapse without disguise.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Georgiana. “You are engaged!”
“I am,” agreed Darcy. “To the most wonderful young woman in Hertfordshire. I hope to introduce you when the occasion permits, for Elizabeth is a lively young woman whose presence in my life has done me a world of good. I cannot imagine she would stint in offering her friendship.”
Georgiana offered a shy smile, but it was Fitzwilliam who spoke. “Darcy here delayed his wedding to come to Pemberley, Georgiana.”
It had not been Darcy’s intention to betray as much to Georgiana, but he could do nothing more than acknowledge it when she regarded him through wide eyes.
“How awful!” exclaimed she. “It is unfortunate that you have had such a joyful occasion interrupted!”
“Not at all, Georgiana,” assured Darcy. “The greater consideration is your brother’s passing and the necessity to ensure that you and Pemberley itself receive the attention they deserve. I do not suppose the delay will be more than two or three months.
“To own the truth,” said Darcy, “I had thought to invite Elizabeth to visit Pemberley while I remain here, perhaps in the company of our mothers and maybe one or two of her sisters.”
“I apologize for speaking up, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Younge as she eyed him with disapproval, “but it is not at all proper for your betrothed to stay in the same house in which you live, no matter how many mothers are also present.”
“With that, I cannot but agree,” said Darcy, nodding to Mrs. Younge. “Should the visit come to fruition, they will stay at the inn in Lambton and will only visit Pemberley during the day.”
Mrs. Younge nodded her approval and fell silent. Silence, however, was the furthest thing from Georgiana’s mind.
“Shall she visit soon?”
“Perhaps not at once,” replied Darcy. “There is too much for me to accomplish at present, so I cannot think it is advisable. Perhaps we can arrange it for a month or two from now.”
Georgiana offered another shy smile, after which she peppered him with questions about Elizabeth, her sisters, Hertfordshire, and his life there. Darcy responded without hesitation, happy to speak on a subject that brought such joy to his heart, especially when he was sundered from Elizabeth only days before their nuptials.
“I have always wanted a sister,” said Georgiana, though with the greatest diffidence. “Though I am naught but your cousin, I hope that I may someday expect a relationship akin to sisters with your future wife.”
“With that, Georgiana, I am convinced Elizabeth will agree with all her heart. My fiancée loves to make friends and is at home in any company, unlike me. When you meet her, I am convinced you will love her at once.”
“With such a recommendation,” said Fitzwilliam, “I also wish to make her acquaintance. Tell me, Darcy, do you suppose any of your excellent future wife’s sisters would suit an old campaigner such as myself?”
“You are notthatold, Anthony,” giggled Georgiana.
“Perhaps they would,” said Darcy. “You may have competition with my friend Bingley for her elder sister’s hand, for he found herquiteagreeable, but her younger sisters are yet unattached. Mary is nineteen and pleasant, though you may need to wait for her youngest sisters to settle before either of them becomes appealing.”
