She stood upon the gravel, tall for her age but still young, wrapped in a dark pelisse, her bonnet ribbons stirring in the wind. Her face was pale with uncertainty as she looked toward the house.
Darcy was already moving.
He reached the hall before the servant had fully opened the door and crossed the steps without hat or gloves. Richard looked up, took one look at his face, and wisely said nothing.
Georgiana’s eyes widened. “Brother.”
Darcy stopped before her, suddenly aware that she was nervous.
Of course she was. She had come uninvited by him, however warmly invited by Bingley. Georgiana, who feared imposing, who feared displeasing, who still sometimes believed affection might be withdrawn if she stepped wrong.
Something in Darcy’s chest ached.
“My dear Georgiana,” he said, and drew her into his arms.
She came at once, all hesitation gone, and held him tightly. Darcy bent and kissed the top of her head, as he had when she was little and would run to him after his months away at school. She was nearly grown now, or thought she was, but in that moment she was his little sister again, and he was more grateful than he could have said.
He held her away from him and looked her up and down. “When did you grow into a lady?”
Her smile brightened. “I feared you might be vexed,” she whispered.
“Vexed?” He drew back enough to look at her. “Your presence is the only thing that could make me happier.”
Her eyes filled immediately, though she smiled. “Truly?”
“Truly.”
Richard made a sound behind them. “Well. That is disappointingly tender. I had prepared three defenses, two apologies, and one dramatic offer to remove your sister at once if you flew into a rage.”
Darcy looked over Georgiana’s head. “Have you ever known me to fly into a rage?”
“No, but I have always hoped to see it. One likes novelty.”
Georgiana gave a watery laugh, and Darcy kept one arm around her shoulders as they turned toward the house.
Bingley stood in the doorway, beaming with satisfaction. “Welcome to Netherfield. I hope the journey was not too uncomfortable.”
“Not at all,” Richard said. “Your roads have only shaken one kidney loose, and I had a spare.”
“Richard,” Georgiana murmured.
“What? I am praising the roads. A weaker man might have lost both.”
Darcy felt laughter rise in him, sudden and easy. He had Georgiana beside him, Richard in front of him, and Elizabeth only three miles away at Longbourn. The world, which had so often demanded sacrifice before joy, seemed for once to have given him both duty and happiness in the same generous hand.
As they entered Netherfield together, Georgiana looked up at him shyly. “Do you think Miss Elizabeth will mind my coming?”
Darcy’s smile deepened.
“No,” he said. “I think she will be very glad.”
And for the first time in years, Darcy felt certain that Pemberley’s future had begun not with a bargain, but with hope.
∞∞∞
Elizabeth looked up from her needlework as the door opened to admit Darcy and Bingley. She had been expecting them, of course, as he and Mr. Bingley had called often enough over the past week that Mrs. Bennet had begun arranging the drawing room each morning as though the gentlemen might materialize out of the carpet if only the chairs were properly placed. Elizabeth had also expected Miss Bingley, perhaps, or Mrs. Hurst, if they could be persuaded into civility by the promise of observing Longbourn in all its inferiority.
She had not expected the tall, fair-haired girl who entered behind Darcy with wide, anxious eyes and a blush already rising in her cheeks.
