Georgiana’s fingers moved across her embroidery with swift skill, creating delicate patterns that would eventually become a handkerchief for her brother. Elizabeth’s own needlework showed less precision, her stitches adequate but hardly exemplary. She had never possessed the patience for detailed handwork. But the activity provided pleasant occupation for hands that might otherwise remain idle, and the rhythmic motion of needle through fabric created a meditative quality that made conversation flow more easily.
“I received a letter from Mrs. Reynolds at Pemberley this morning,” Georgiana said, her voice carrying the soft hesitancy that characterised most of her speech. “She writes that the rosegarden is in full bloom now, that it smells heavenly when one walks through it in the evening.”
Elizabeth smiled at the mention of Pemberley’s housekeeper, about whom she had heard much from both Darcy siblings. “I look forward to seeing it. Your brother has told me the gardens are extensive, that they were particularly dear to your mother.”
“They were,” Georgiana agreed, her expression showing fondness mixed with old grief. “Mama spent hours there, planning new plantings and rearranging existing beds.”
They worked in companionable silence for a few moments, needles flashing in the afternoon light. Elizabeth found herself thinking about Jane, about Bingley’s disappointed visit the day before and Fitzwilliam’s confession to Darcy. Her husband had told her about the conversation in his study, had shared his cousin’s intentions and asked whether she thought Jane might be receptive to Fitzwilliam’s courtship. Elizabeth had confirmed what Darcy suspected, that Jane’s feelings had indeed shifted away from Bingley and toward the Colonel.
“I understand Mr. Bingley called here recently,” Georgiana said, her voice dropping to near whisper. “To see your sister Jane.”
Elizabeth glanced at her companion, noting the way Georgiana’s cheeks had coloured slightly, how her fingers had stilled on her embroidery despite her attempt to appear unconcerned. “He did. My husband wrote to him, explaining his part in separating Mr. Bingley from Jane last autumn. Mr. Bingley came hoping to renew their acquaintance.”
“And did he succeed?” Georgiana’s question emerged with studied casualness that did not quite mask the genuine interest beneath it.
“Not in the way he hoped,” Elizabeth replied carefully, watching Georgiana’s face for reaction. “Jane was polite but distant. I think their separation cooled feelings that might havedeveloped into genuine attachment had they been allowed to continue naturally.”
Georgiana’s shoulders relaxed slightly at this information, a reaction she quickly tried to conceal by bending more intently over her needlework. But Elizabeth had seen it, had noted the relief that flickered across her new sister’s face before proper composure could be restored.
Understanding dawned with sudden clarity that made Elizabeth want to laugh at her own blindness.Of course. Georgiana had met Bingley during his friendship with Darcy, had likely seen him on various occasions over the past few years. Bingley, with his open manners and easy charm, was precisely the sort of man who might draw out someone as shy as Georgiana.
“Georgiana,” Elizabeth said gently, setting aside her own needlework to give her full attention to the girl beside her. “Did you perhaps hope that Mr. Bingley would not renew his courtship of Jane?”
Georgiana’s hands stilled completely, her face flushing deep pink that spread from her cheeks down her neck. She kept her gaze fixed on her embroidery, her fingers tracing the pattern she had created without actually resuming her stitching.
“I know it is wrong of me,” Georgiana whispered, her voice trembling with obvious distress. “Jane is your sister, and you must want her happiness above all things.” She finally looked up, meeting Elizabeth’s eyes with expression that showed guilt mixed with helpless hope. “But I confess I would have been quite sorry if Mr. Bingley had married your sister.”
Elizabeth felt her heart squeeze with sympathy for this painfully honest admission. Georgiana had clearly been carrying this secret, had tortured herself over feelings she believed were inappropriate or wrong. The girl’s distress was written plainly onher face, in the way her hands twisted the embroidery in her lap with enough force to wrinkle the delicate fabric.
“There is nothing wrong with your feelings,” Elizabeth said firmly, reaching out to still Georgiana’s restless hands with her own. “You cannot control whom your heart finds appealing, and Mr. Bingley is certainly worthy of admiration. He is amiable and kind, handsome and cheerful.”
Georgiana’s eyes widened at this matter-of-fact acceptance, as though she had expected censure or mockery rather than understanding. “But he loved Miss Bennet. Or thought he did. And I should not have wished for that to end simply because...” She trailed off, unable to complete the confession.
“Simply because you harbour feelings for him yourself?” Elizabeth supplied gently, keeping her voice free of judgment. “Georgiana, having feelings does not make you wicked or selfish. Acting on those feelings inappropriately might, but simply possessing them is perfectly natural and human.”
She squeezed Georgiana’s hands before releasing them, settling back against the window frame with small smile. “I believe he is very amiable,” Elizabeth continued, deliberately echoing Georgiana’s earlier assessment. “And I think he would be fortunate indeed to gain the regard of someone as genuinely kind and accomplished as yourself.”
“But...” Georgiana’s voice emerged barely above a whisper, her face still showing distress despite Elizabeth’s reassurances. “But I am so shy, so awkward in company. I cannot make clever conversation or draw attention in a room. Mr. Bingley would surely prefer someone more vivacious, someone who could match his energy and enthusiasm.”
Elizabeth considered this assessment, recognizing the self-doubt that lay beneath it. Georgiana had been comparing herself to others and finding herself lacking, had convinced herself thather natural reserve made her somehow deficient or unworthy of notice.
“Perhaps what he truly needs is someone whose gentleness can balance his enthusiasm, whose quiet strength can provide stability his nature lacks,” Elizabeth said finally. She felt a smile tug at her lips as an amusing thought occurred to her. “You know, this means that Caroline Bingley might get her alliance with the Darcys after all, though certainly not the one she originally wanted.”
Understanding dawned on Georgiana’s face, followed immediately by a laugh that transformed her features with genuine amusement. The sound was delightful, unguarded in ways Georgiana’s usual careful demeanour never allowed. “Oh, Caroline would be furious,” Georgiana said, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “To gain the connexion she sought but through circumstances that would give her no particular standing or advantage. She could hardly claim precedence over me in my own home.”
Elizabeth laughed as well, pleased to see Georgiana’s distress giving way to humour. “Indeed not. Though I suspect she would try regardless. Miss Bingley’s capacity for self-delusion where social standing is concerned seems nearly limitless.”
They dissolved into giggles that would have been unbecoming in more formal company but felt perfectly appropriate here. The tension that had characterised the beginning of their conversation had dissipated entirely, replaced by warmth and genuine affection that made Elizabeth grateful for the strange circumstances that had brought her into this family.
Elizabeth found herself thinking about Caroline Bingley’s likely reaction if Georgiana and Bingley did indeed form an attachment. The woman had been relentless in her pursuit of Darcy, had schemed and manipulated in hopes of becoming his wife. To see her brother marry into the Darcy family while sheremained Miss Bingley would be a blow to her consequence that Elizabeth could not help but find satisfying.
But beyond the amusing thought of Caroline’s discomfiture lay something more significant. Georgiana deserved happiness with someone who could appreciate her gentle nature, who would not be put off by her shyness or mistake her reserve for coldness. And Bingley, for all his tendency toward precipitous attachment, possessed genuine kindness that would serve him well with someone as sensitive as Georgiana.
They would need time, of course. Georgiana was still young, not even officially out in society yet, and Bingley needed opportunity to recover from his disappointed hopes regarding Jane. But given time and proximity, given the natural connexion their families would maintain through Elizabeth and Darcy’s marriage, something real might develop between them.
Elizabeth found a good deal of satisfaction in that thought.
Chapter Thirty-Two
