“I should like that very much,” Georgiana agreed readily. Rising from the piano stool, she went unerringly to a small wooden case on the bureau and began to sort through the sheet music it contained. She gave a small sigh. “Oh, how I would like to have a pianoforte at home! Mr Wickham is gone so often, it would give me something to do while he is away.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Why is he so often away from home?” she asked. She supposed it was tactless of her to ask, but it seemed odd that he, a newly married man, would be gone so much from his wife.
“It is for business,” Georgiana explained, rather vaguely.
Elizabeth was left more puzzled than ever. WhatwasMr Wickham’s business? And what manner of business couldrequire such frequent late hours? Though tempted to ask, she refrained. Not only would it have been far too rude, she began to have the sense that Georgiana herself did not know the answer, and perhaps did not wish to ask. “Ah, I see,” Elizabeth therefore replied, matching vagueness with vagueness.
Georgiana did not invite further comment on the subject, but turned and held up the pages of sheet music. “Will you come and play something?” she asked.
Though Elizabeth had thought to insist that her guest must play another, Georgiana was so eager that Elizabeth did not have the heart to refuse her. “Yes, I shall play if you really wish it, or perhaps I ought to say, I shall try. I warn you, I am not as good as you.”
“You are much too kind,” Georgiana replied, waving away the praise. Though, Elizabeth noted with amusement, she was too honest to deny it entirely.
Elizabeth sat down and looked over the sheet music for a moment. The choice was not likely to be an easy one, for Georgiana was far more skilled than she, and many of the pieces were well beyond her. To Elizabeth’s relief, however, the collection of music did include Bach’s Little Preludes. Though the pieces were hardly more than training exercises intended to advance an amateur pianist’s skills, they still held the master’s brilliance, and Elizabeth liked them well. After stretching her hands, she began to play.
“Ah, Bach!” Georgiana said eagerly from the sitting area, where she had picked up a cup of tea. “No one brings a greater sense of calm and order coupled with great emotion.”
Nodding in agreement, Elizabeth lost herself in the music. To think of nothing but the key beneath her fingers andthe sounds issuing from the instrument was a profound relief. Relaxing into that relief, she allowed the notes to carry her away.
How much had changed in the past months! She had married a stranger, moved to the far north, a place she had never so much as visited, and begun the struggle of finding her place in a life she could never have imagined. Elizabeth had tried to meet it all with cheerfulness and good sense, for how else could she ever be tolerably happy? And that was a good stratagem, and the best way to keep up her courage, but she could no longer deny it had left a heaviness on her spirit. Day by day, the tension had wound her heart tighter and tighter, until it could have burst.
Now, very gently, the music began to unwind it.
When she finished and opened her eyes again, Georgiana sat watching her, almost in a daze. It was not until the last notes had faded from the air that Georgiana blinked and stood, setting aside her untouched cup of tea and joining her at the instrument. “That was very moving. I must confess, I am a little undone.”
“I thank you, you are too kind,” Elizabeth said, a little embarrassed. She stood up from the piano stool, trying to shake the force of her emotions.
“You always seem so calm and cheerful,” Georgiana marvelled. “I did not know you felt so much, but it was apparent in the way you played that you have a depth about you that, I suspect, none of us realise.” She joined her in the sitting area, and they both took a sip of their tea.
“I try to always be cheerful, but I do feel a great deal. Perhaps I will come and play more. You are right, it is very helpful.” Elizabeth let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding. “Will you play again?” she asked.
Georgiana was happy to oblige. After briefly thumbing through the sheet music, she selected the Goldberg Variations — perhaps the very piece for which the Little Preludes had been intended to train her. Elizabeth went to the settee to sit down so she might enjoy the sunshine coming in through the windows and still watch Georgiana. The vantage allowed her to see her sister-in-law’s face, rather than her fingers as they danced over the black and white keys. Elizabeth sipped her tea, listening happily.
To her astonishment, she suddenly found that they were not alone. Mr Darcy was there, standing just on the other side of the doorway, where he might listen without disturbing the musicians.
At her first look at his expression, Elizabeth knew she need not fear that he had come to object.
For a brief moment, Elizabeth considered leaving him to listen in peace, but she discarded the idea. Georgiana should know as soon as possible that she need not fear her brother’s wrath when she played the pianoforte. This decided, Elizabeth motioned for Mr Darcy to join them.
Though looking a little uncertain at first, he did so. When Georgiana saw her brother come into the room, she startled, hitting a sour note. But on seeing how he merely sat quietly next to Elizabeth, and how he nodded encouragingly at her, she soon regained her confidence and went on, playing with as much skill as ever.
“She plays beautifully,” Elizabeth said softly to him. “All the praise I have heard of her is well-deserved.”
“Yes, she has not lost the touch, I see,” Mr Darcy agreed.
Elizabeth fell silent for a moment, weighing whether she ought to leave well-enough alone, or whether it would be better to tell her husband about the disquieting discovery she had made. It might do no good at all. Perhaps Mr Darcy would think it a fitting punishment that Georgiana could not afford a pianoforte of her own.
But then, he could not help if he did not know that a problem existed. At last, Elizabeth decided to broach the subject. “It is a pity she does not have a pianoforte in her new lodgings. Apparently, they cannot afford it,” Elizabeth said carefully. Perhaps the hint would help him see they needed an increase in the monthly allowance he had allotted for them, if only to allow her to have an instrument in her home once more.
Mr Darcy’s eyes flashed with surprise, and then disappointment. “Yes, that is a pity,” he said. He cleared his throat, nodding at his sister when she looked over at them once more. “She played the last song with more expression and emotion. I wonder if my being here has made her nervous,” he whispered. “Should I go?”
“No, do not go,” Elizabeth urged him. The next was embarrassing to admit, but she could not allow the misunderstanding to continue. Mr Darcy must not go, not when he had just come to hear his sister again for the first time in so long. “I played the last song, not Georgiana.”
“You did?” Mr Darcy said with obvious surprise. “But I thought you did not play, or only a very little.”
“I do play only a very little,” Elizabeth told him. “Surely you could hear the difference between my level of skill and your sister’s.”
He shook his head. “I imagine I could if I had thought of it, but I did not. I thought only of the music’s beauty. You play with such feeling.”
