“You could not have told me the truth then. But having spent three months with you here, I know my memories of our last time together are true. You have a generous heart and a self-assurance I always wanted to emulate. I meant it when I said I always thought of you as my sister.”
“Me too,” Elizabeth said, her throat closing.
Elizabeth recognised this feeling of a looming, permanent separation settling into her bones and preoccupying every thought. She had felt it when faced with leaving Darcy in 1811—before she realised he was on the brink of death and she dragged him forward with her to medicines that could save him. And counting down to when he had to leave her to return to his old life was a thousand times worse.
No wonder Darcy struggled at first to bond with Georgiana; he knew what heartache was coming. But she was proud of himfor not giving up the chance at a connection. If he was a little distracted now, that had to be why.
“Let’s make the most of the rest of our time,” she said brightly. “Are you ready for your first girls’ night? Gwen is picking us up.” It would be a tame evening with wine, movies, and blunt talk that might shock her sister-in-law. Then again, female friends probably weren’t that different in 1826.
They fell in step together to walk outside to wait. “Are you looking forward to dancing at the ball on Saturday? It will be a fun evening. I’m sure your skills will impress the participants.”
“I enjoy dancing, even though Fitzwilliam tells me I won’t like how they recreate it here. The truth is likely somewhere in between your opinions,” she said with a knowing smile. “For him, it must seem like a misrepresentation.”
“But it also keeps that era alive, and to see so many people enjoy the Regency country dances is pretty incredible. I can’t imagine anyone two hundred years from now wanting to recreate the dances and clothing of today. Do you dance much?”
Georgiana shrugged. “Few men ask me to anymore. To some, I am beyond hope, so they ask the younger girls who are still marriageable.”
“No one asks you?” She gave her a sceptical look. “You’re wealthy and pretty and have a good social standing.”
“Old friends ask me, husbands of my friends, neighbours,” she admitted.
“Ever dance with Mr Willers?” It was too late in the game to be subtle. And Darcy would no longer mind if she pushed his sister in that direction.
“No, but he enjoys dancing and music. Sometimes, sometimes he listens to me play,” she added in a rush.
Elizabeth gave her an expressive look. “Really?”
Georgiana turned bright red. “He has been a widower for fifteen years; he never hears music at home. We walked past thedoor to the music room once after meeting in his office, and he mentioned missing music—that was a few years ago—so I invited him to come back in the evening. I said I would play whatever he wished and that he must come again so he could hear a different song.”
“And did it become a standing appointment?”
She nodded. “He comes into the music room for a song or two every week that I am in the country, and we always talk. Sometimes about investments, or leases with tenants, or sometimes about books or travelling or more serious topics.”
“Do these late-night conversations alone in the music room ever touch on more personal topics?” she hinted.
How was it possible Georgiana got any redder? “Our topics are not always strictly Pemberley business.” She took in a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly. “In June, we were sitting close together after I finished playing. We talked later than we normally do, and the topic moved on to our hopes for the future, what the essence of an ideal life looked like, what would make us happy…”
“And?” Elizabeth was near to shaking her shoulders to jostle the words from her.
“And, he had his arm on the sofa back and he smiled at me and leant forward and…I thought he might kiss me,” she said while covering her face with her hands.
Darcy certainly didn’t get these details. “Did he kiss you?”
She shook her head. “He drew back in a very startled manner, and quickly left. Then, a few days later, he told me he was leaving Pemberley to work for Lord Gordon.”
“Do you wish he had kissed you?”
“No,” she said, surprising her. “If he wants to leave, then I am very glad he did not kiss me. The kiss would not have meant to him what it would have meant to me. That would have made losing his friendship and his counsel even more of a trial.”
Georgiana couldn’t see it. How sheltered were these nineteenth-century girls? Were they kept so cloistered they had no idea how to tell if a boy liked them? Probably, since it was indecent to act interested in them. “Is it possible Mr Willers was afraid he overstepped? He thought he acted in an ungentlemanly manner and insulted you?”
“I am sure he did. I think he regretted it so much that he intends to leave Pemberley over it.”
“No!” She pushed her shoulder into Georgiana’s for emphasis. “He loves you and regretted it because he thought it was unwanted, like he was forcing you. Why are you assuming he’s not interested?”
Georgiana was quiet while they waited by the car park for Gwen. “It is hard to assume that someone loves you and loves you enough to overcome all the obstacles.”
The truth of it washed over her. She might have known Darcy loved her when he left her to return to 1811, but even when he came back to the twenty-first century, it was hard to believe he loved her enough to overcome every hurdle in his way. She had thought he came back to ask her to return with him, never assuming that he had altered the course of his life to stay here with her.
