Georgiana and Lady Anne called daily, precisely as promised. Their visits, at first polite, soon grew into something warmer—more unguarded.
Elizabeth discovered quickly that Georgiana’s modesty concealed extraordinary talent. One afternoon, at Elizabeth’s urging, she consented to play upon Longbourn’s rather neglected pianoforte.
The first notes were delicate. The second phrase shimmered.
Within moments, the small drawing room seemed transformed. Georgiana’s fingers moved with effortless grace, drawing depth and feeling from the instrument that Elizabeth had never suspected it possessed.
Jane sat spellbound. Even Mary lowered her book in humbled admiration.
Elizabeth felt a curious swell of affection.
“She is nearly a prodigy,” she murmured later to Lady Anne.
“She is happiest at the pianoforte,” Lady Anne replied softly. “Music has always steadied her.”
On another afternoon, while Georgiana and Jane bent over a duet, Lady Anne requested a private word.
They walked slowly along the frosted lawn, the air sharp but bracing.
“There is something I wish to speak to you about,” Lady Anne began, her tone gentle but deliberate. “When you are settled at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth’s heart gave a small, anticipatory flutter.
“I have considered,” Lady Anne continued, “that it might be best for Georgiana and myself to remove to the dower house upon your marriage. Newlyweds require privacy. The main house would be entirely yours.”
Elizabeth stopped walking.
“To the dower house?” she repeated.
Lady Anne smiled kindly. “It is comfortable, and I am accustomed to managing with very little fuss. I would not have you feel watched—or constrained.”
Elizabeth stared at her, astonishment plain upon her face.
“That is entirely unnecessary,” she said at once. “More than unnecessary—it would be disastrous.”
Lady Anne blinked in mild surprise. “Disastrous?”
“I have never managed a household of Pemberley’s magnitude,” Elizabeth admitted candidly. “I have nevercommanded a staff so large, nor overseen such extensive accounts. I will be relying, quite shamelessly, upon your guidance.”
Lady Anne studied her closely.
“You would not find our presence… intrusive?”
“On the contrary,” Elizabeth replied earnestly. “I would find your absence alarming. I am used to a household full of women and their noise. What would I do with only a husband for company?”
A slow warmth spread across Lady Anne’s expression.
“Very well,” she said at last. “We shall remain.”
Elizabeth’s shoulders relaxed in visible relief.
“But,” Lady Anne added, lifting a gloved finger, “only on one condition.”
Elizabeth braced herself. “Name it.”
“You must persuade Fitzwilliam to take the master’s chambers, with yourself in the mistress’s.”
Elizabeth furrowed her brow. “He does not use it now?”
