“Perhaps you might try them on your bonnet instead, if you liked,” Elizabeth suggested. “I think grey and pink are a lovely match. Very elegant.”
“Anneneverwears pink,” Lady Catherine remarked.
“But I think I should like to,” Anne said quietly, but with surprising firmness. “Thank you, Elizabeth. I like them very much indeed.”
“Excellent,” Elizabeth said. “I think they will be very becoming on you. Do you not think, Lady Catherine? Anne has such fine colouring that pink and grey would look very well on her.”
“Perhaps you are right, at that,” Lady Catherine allowed. “Very well, Anne. You shall have pink ribbons on your bonnet if you want them.”
Anne raised her eyes to Darcy’s. The cousins shared a smile of equal surprise and pleasure. Lady Catherine may have intended to bring Elizabeth under her sway, but it seemed that the redoubtable Lady Catherine had met her match — and Elizabeth had outdone her not with bad temper or a will to dominate, but with kindness.
Contrary to Lady Catherine’s gloomy predictions, the tea was not cold — as though Reynolds would ever have allowed such a thing. Better still, Elizabeth led and directedthe conversation, keeping it as warm and comforting as the tea itself, and full of laughter. From his place on a settee a little apart from the others, Darcy watched with a glow of pride.
Fitzwilliam joined him with a contented sigh. “Your wife has won the day again, Darcy. I do not think I have ever seen our aunt smile.”
“We cannot give her too much credit, for it was only a half-smile,” he replied with a chuckle. Darcy glanced at his wife. “However, I agree. She is quite a woman.”
Suddenly, Darcy thought of the gift he had intended to give Elizabeth on Christmas morning. It was well enough, or at least he had thought so. He had purchased a golden chain with an emerald pendant, its gem small but real. He had thought it an appropriate gift for his wife on their first Christmas together. It was a piece suitable for the mistress of Pemberley, and the sum it had cost was substantial enough to communicate his respect for her.
But it had no meaning, no emotion behind it, and that meant it simply was not enough for a woman who had so changed his life in a matter of weeks.
With sudden decision, Darcy knew what he would do. He would send for one of the family pieces kept in his London vault — an heirloom piece truly worthy not just of the mistress of Pemberley, but of the woman who had come to hold his heart.
Chapter 20
Though the passage of only a few days had enabled Elizabeth to find her sister-in-law to be sweet, eager to please, and shy, she had not yet achieved any deeper insight into her character, and still less into how a more lasting repair to the relationship between the siblings might be achieved. She therefore took the opportunity of a quiet morning early in the Wickham’s stay to seek out Georgiana.
Elizabeth hesitated a moment before knocking on the door. Though it ought not to have mattered in the least, she felt strangely reluctant to intrude if Mr Wickham might be there.
But that was only silliness, and no reason for delay. Telling herself not to be absurd, Elizabeth knocked firmly on the door.
In fact, Mr Wickham was not in. Georgiana sat before the vanity. Her hair must have become a little disarrayed, for she was having it rearranged by the maid — one Reynolds had assigned to her upon her arrival, as Mrs Wickham had not brought her own.
“Thank you, Dansberry. You may go,” Georgiana said. With a curtsy, she did so. Georgiana turned to Elizabeth with a confiding smile. “How good it is to have my hair done by Dansberry again! She has helped me ever since I was first old enough to wear my hair up.”
“I have been very much impressed with all the Pemberley staff,” Elizabeth agreed. “Mrs Reynolds is truly a wonder.”
“And so very dear!” Georgiana chimed in. “She has always been so kind to me. Only —” Her voice faltered. “Only, I do not think she quite approves of my husband.”
As there was no possible reply to this, Elizabeth only nodded and changed the subject. “Are you quite at liberty this morning? We have not yet spoken together — just we ladies, I mean. I should so much like to know you better.”
Georgiana’s face brightened. “Oh, how lovely. I should like nothing better,” she said, waving Elizabeth over to the little sitting area between the hearth and the windows looking out on the woods. She sighed in relief. Looking at her curiously, Elizabeth thought it sounded almost as though it had been her first deep breath for a very long time. “It is so good to be home.”
“We are so thankful that you and Mr Wickham could make the trip. Are you comfortable in your room? Of course, you know the house very well and could request any room you desire.”
“No, not at all. You chose perfectly for me, for I have always loved this room,” Georgiana replied without hesitation. “My childhood room was very near the governess’ quarters. I found this room has much more natural light, being on the east-facing side. It is positively magical in the morning.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Elizabeth told her. “In truth, I confess I have not yet found a room here I would not gladly stay in — but then, you know the house much better than I do. For that matter, is there anything you would like to do during your visit? I confess I am still learning the house and do not know the village as well as I should like.”
“Our walk about Lambton was very pleasant,” Georgiana replied thoughtfully. “There are a few neighbours I should very much like to see. And — well, never mind.”
“Please tell me,” Elizabeth urged her. “Though we have not known each other long, Mrs Wickham, I suspect you are not likely to ask for anything I would not gladly give you. What would you like to do?”
Georgiana hung her head shyly, but at Elizabeth’s continued urging, she at last gave way. “It is only that I have not been able to play the pianoforte since my marriage. I miss it very much.”
For a moment, Elizabeth could not think how to respond. It seemed all but impossible. Each time anyone had spoken to her of Georgiana Wickham, her love for the pianoforte had been mentioned in the same breath. Why did she not have a pianoforte of her own? They were expensive, true, but not prohibitively so. And why had she not played since arriving at Pemberley?
“I must confess myself shocked,” Elizabeth said at last. “I am told you are a very great proficient, and one who loves nothing more than to play. At least the deficiency can be remedied now. Indeed, nothing could be easier. Why have you not played on the pianoforte in the parlour? Or the conservatory? Mr Darcy bought it for you, I am told.”
