When Darcy told her a day before Christmas eve that she was coming, Elizabeth realised that she had more feelings about her coming than she had expected.
Georgiana looked up from Mia and saw her as she came downstairs.
There was a pause that lasted a moment too long, and Elizabeth felt the first stir of worry before Georgiana said, “Elizabeth?”
"Georgiana." Elizabeth came forward. "I have wanted to meet you for a long time."
"Likewise," Georgiana said. "A very long time." She said it with a smile that was her brother's smile, which Elizabeth had not been prepared for and had to absorb for a moment.
"I hope you do not find it strange that I feel like I already know you," Elizabeth said. "The resemblance is uncanny."
Georgiana smiled. "I stalked your Instagram when William told me about his girlfriend eight years ago." She glanced toward the kitchen where Darcy had appeared in the doorway. "It is a pity we never got to meet properly."
"I am sorry about that," Elizabeth said. Quietly. Meaning it.
"It is all in the past now." Georgiana said it simply, without making it into anything larger than it was. "When he told me you two had to move into the same house with Mia, I felt sorry for him." She paused. "But if what he has been telling me these past two weeks is anything to go by, you are well past that."
Elizabeth looked at her. Then, briefly, at Darcy.
"Yes," she said. "We are."
"Cinnamon rolls," Mia announced, already heading for the kitchen. "Before Mr. Darcy eats them all."
"I have not touched them," Darcy said from the doorway.
"Yet," Mia said.
***
The morning settled around them quickly— without fuss, without negotiation, finding its shape naturally. Georgiana and Mia moved around each other with the ease of people who had to see each other. They sat at the kitchen counter while Elizabeth iced the rolls and Darcy made coffee and by eleven it was simply Christmas morning.
After breakfast they exchanged gifts.
Mia had bought Darcy a book about the best luxury item for the year. She had asked Bingley what he would want and Bingley had known immediately and she had ordered it and wrapped it herself.
"How did you know?" Darcy said, when he opened it.
"Uncle Bingley said you had been wanting it for months but would not buy it because you thought it was an indulgence."
Darcy looked at the book. "It is."
"I know," Mia said. "That is why I got it."
Mia had bought Elizabeth a notebook. The right kind — red cover, good paper, the kind that felt serious in the hand. Inside the front cover she wrote,‘for the novel after the one you are pitching’
Elizabeth read it and held it close to her heart. Afterwards, she hugged Mia.
"You are going to cry," Mia said.
"I am not."
She was, slightly. She looked at the ceiling to stop it and Darcy, across the room, said nothing and looked at his book and the corner of his mouth did something she pretended not to notice.
Georgiana gave Mia a small gold bracelet. Their mother's. She said she had been carrying it for a year trying to work out who it belonged with, and that once occasion warranted that shevisited, she had known it belonged with Mia. Mia put it on and wore it for the rest of the day and the day after that and every day after that as far as anyone could tell.
Darcy's gifts came last.
He produced two boxes, small and dark, the kind that announced their contents before they were opened. He set one in front of Mia and one in front of Elizabeth.
