Elizabeth stepped closer to a shelf where the volumes of Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey were arranged behind glass doors. How she wished she could spend hours in this room, searching through the volumes. She moved to a stuffed chair and touched the fabric. She imagined herself curled within it, passing the hours reading.
Georgiana stepped nearer to Elizabeth and said, “That chair is my brother’s favorite. He spends many of his free hours in this room.”
Elizabeth pictured him there in her mind’s eye. How she longed to be part of his life. He was among the most attractive and amiable gentlemen she had ever met. She recalled, with a thrill, that he had wished to continue their acquaintance. Perhaps she would see him again soon, when he returned from the north.
Georgiana gestured to a book. “This edition of Homer was printed at Basel. It was published in 1551.”
She moved farther down the shelf. “Here is the edition my brother reads.”
Georgiana led them through several reading nooks tucked behind the shelves, then up a spiral stair to a balcony. “This is my favorite place to read. If I draw back the drape, I may sit here for hours to read by the morning light.”
“This is a charming retreat, Georgiana. Are these volumes all your own?”
“Yes. And here are my fashion sketches. It is one of my areas of study.”
The three ladies settled upon the sofa and chairs and looked through the drawings as the young girl pointed out clever ways to conceal imperfections in a lady’s figure.
When they had completed their tour of the library, Georgiana asked eagerly, “Shall we visit the conservatory next?”
Jane, who delighted in gardens, brightened.
They descended the stairs and walked to the rear of the house, then entered a small glass room, perhaps twenty by fifteen feet.It held several potted citrus trees, camellias, geraniums, and other exotic greenery unknown to the Bennet sisters.
“The orangery at Pemberley is much larger,” Georgiana remarked. “It houses orange, lemon, and lime trees, and others besides, though I confess I have never taken much interest in it, and cannot recall them all.”
Jane took in the room.
“This is lovely. I could happily spend hours here, tending these plants. Who maintains them?”
“My brother retains a gardener who comes twice a week to water, prune, and do whatever is necessary to keep them thriving. There are chairs here. We may sit, if you wish.”
Elizabeth followed, touching the plants and running her fingers over the trunks of the small trees, then she turned and laughingly asked, “This is a magical little garden. Georgiana, where do the fairies sleep?”
Laughing, she answered, “My brother played at fairies with me when I was a child. I wished so badly to see them that he purchased some little figures, and moved them about from time to time, so that I might search for them.”
She paused, thinking.
“I have no notion where they might be now.”
She walked around the enclosure, then she cried out.
“Here they are.”
She returned with five tiny glass figures in her hands, skillfully wrought, their faces delicately painted, their garments shaded in green, yellow, and blue.
Each sister took one and examined it closely.
Jane said, “What a lovely thing for him to do, Georgiana.”
Elizabeth was touched by his thoughtfulness. He seemed to stand in the place of both brother and father to his young sister, and the tenderness of his concern touched her. The more she learned of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the more she found herself inclined to esteem him.
Elizabeth handed her figure back. “Your brother is very attentive, my dear.”
Georgiana’s smile turned wistful.
“Yes. We have spent much time together. I miss him now. He is so often away, at house parties, or making the annual rounds of the estates scattered across England. I wish I might accompany him, but my education has kept me at home with my companion.”
Her eyes filled, though she did not weep.
