“Nor have I encountered it in any of the Greek or Roman authors,” she added, shaking her head with a slight shrug.
Mr. Darcy spoke at this, and both young women turned toward him. Elizabeth detected a gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“It arises from late medieval English folklore,” he said, addressing Georgiana. “You need not distress yourself, sister.It is the invention of the unlearned and carries no authority beyond idle superstition.”
Georgiana looked back at Elizabeth and laughed. “It is a very curious expression.”
“Curious, yes,” Elizabeth agreed, smiling, “though not one any lady would wish applied to herself.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened. “Certainly not.”
At that moment, Mr. Bingley rose. “Miss Bennet has been so kind as to accept a walk in the garden.”
Darcy stood as well and inclined his head toward Elizabeth. “May I persuade you, ladies, to join me?”
Both ladies rose. In the hall, Mrs. Hill was handing Mr. Bingley his hat, gloves, and walking stick, while Jane stood before the mirror adjusting the ribbons of her bonnet. When Mrs. Hill turned to fetch Mr. Darcy’s coat and gloves, Elizabeth passed Georgiana her bonnet and assisted her in tying it neatly beneath her chin.
Jane stepped aside from the mirror, and Elizabeth gave Georgiana a gentle nudge forward. “There, the mirror is free.”
She stepped back to examine Georgiana’s bonnet. “It sits perfectly.”
Elizabeth then removed her own bonnet from its peg and settled it carefully over her chignon. She was fastening the ribbons beneath her chin when Mr. Darcy came forward and draped her shawl about her shoulders. She looked up at him. His eyes were smiling down at her.
She returned the look without hesitation. In that quiet moment, she was keenly aware of her own contentment. His attention had scarcely strayed from her during tea, and it did not stray now.
He offered his arm, and she laid her hand lightly upon it. He extended the other to Georgiana and led them toward the door.
“Which direction?” he asked, glancing at Elizabeth.
“Let us grant Mr. Bingley and Jane a little privacy,” she replied. “Papa’s study is just there. He will keep watch over them. They scarcely walk at all, so absorbed are they in conversation.”
Darcy lifted his gaze and perceived Mr. Bennet at the window, observing the pair in the garden. Elizabeth raised her hand in greeting. Her father returned the salute with grave amusement.
“Shall we walk to the Hermitage?” Elizabeth suggested, her eyes darting to her young friend.
Georgiana answered with the slightest lift of her brow.
However subtle they believed themselves, Mr. Darcy did not fail to notice the exchange.
When they had gone far enough that Mr. Bingley could no longer overhear them, Darcy glanced from one young lady to the other.
“What is it about the hermitage,” he inquired, “that has you both looking like conspirators who have just escaped with the family jewels?”
Georgiana looked instantly contrite. Elizabeth laughed.
“Pay no mind, Georgiana. We ought to have known your brother would observe your start. Had I been wiser, I should have said only, let us take the path to the left, sir. Instead, I uttered the single word certain to rouse your curiosity.”
“You speak of the hermitage?” he asked.
“Yes, sir. On the first day of my visit to your London home, Georgiana confided to me her history with Mr. Wickham. In return, we shared our own unhappy history concerning Lydia and that same gentleman.”
She felt him stiffen beside her.
“What of Wickham?” he demanded quietly. “Did he injure your sister?”
Chapter 33: An Offer Of Marriage
“No, sir. Providentially, Mr. Wickham did not harm my fifteen-year-old sister. Jane and I are persuaded that the child’s guardian angel labors beyond all reason. She has since been placed at school and is kept so industriously employed that she writes to me complaining that she falls asleep the instant her head touches the pillow.”
