"What are you doing?" Darcy asked, eyeing Elizabeth suspiciously as they sat together that evening. Georgiana had retired shortly after their meal, and Elizabeth had claimed she planned to do the same, and yet Darcy had not been alone in his study five minutes before she burst in, glancing furtively over her shoulder as if she were a burglar and not rightful mistress of the house.

"I wished to be sure we were alone," Elizabeth whispered.

"Why?" Darcy was nonplussed. "This is our house, what need have we of secrecy?"

"It is not our need, dear! Now, cease what you are doing and listen to me, for I have a plan and I wish to consult my husband on its execution."

Smiling good-naturedly, and still in the earliest throes of marriage to be willing to grant his bride whatever notion entered her head, he set aside his book, and turned his chair, angling it towards its second, which he gestured her towards.

"We may discuss matters here, then, if you wish, although I dare say it is hardly comfortable enough for a lady…wouldn't you be happier in the parlour? Or the library?" He made as if to stand until Elizabeth bid him stay. "I shall draw the line at pouring you a drink," he said, downing the contents of his glass and setting it down on his desk, before returning his attention entirely to his wife. "Well, Mrs Darcy, you have me utterly in your thrall. What do you wish to discuss that cannot possibly wait until morning?"

"Mr Bingley," Elizabeth said, triumphantly.

Darcy laughed.

"Indeed, a desperately pressing concern. Something in particular about Mr Bingley? Perhaps his hobbies, his favourite colour, his hopes for the future?"

"Yes." Elizabeth nodded, enigmatically.

Darcy frowned.

"You are speaking in riddles!" he complained. "Worse, you are not speaking at all, it is I who am speaking and none of this makes even a particle of sense. It is late, and I am tired. Be fair, my love, and speak plainly. What worries you about Mr Bingley?"

"I wish to invite him to dinner."

This announcement was made with such fanfare and evident pride on the part of his wife, that Darcy's noncommittal reaction was an evident disappointment.

"Very well, of course, we may invite him to dine," Darcy said, shrugging his shoulders. "I do not see why such a discussion must be had immediately, and in secret!"

"I think it would please Georgiana to see him again," Elizabeth said, stubbornly.

"Georgiana? She said goodbye to him just today, surely she cannot miss him so much already. And in any case, why should she miss him at all? It is not as if they are particular friends."

Elizabeth's eyes widened a fraction as he spoke, and she looked at him with expectancy.

Darcy returned her stare with one of his own, his brow furrowing. At length, she looked away, throwing her hands up in despair.

"You are so slow-witted!"

"I am entirely normally-witted! You forget, dear, that I cannot know what goes on inside your head unless you allow it to pass through your lips. I am only permitted to know every third or fourth word of the plan that obviously makes implicit sense to you, and so I am struggling to deduce even the barest logic of it. Begin again. You wish Mr Bingley to dine here, to which I agree. We may invite him any time you wish, and I am sure he will be delighted to come here and escape his sisters for an evening, or bring them with him and share them with us. Now you mention Georgiana as if her presence must be considered in connection with Mr Bingley. He is kind to her, as well he ought to be, for he has been my friend for a long time and known Georgie most of her life. I wager he would be quite as eager to see you again, for he considers you almost as much a friend, and a far more amiable sort of feminine companion than those he is forced into association with by birth."

"Oh, Mr Bingley is friend enough to me on account of my marriage to you," Elizabeth allowed. "But I wager he values Georgiana entirely in her own right." She beamed at him expectantly, and waited, while in Darcy's mind the pieces slowly began to fit together to form a kind of sense.

"You cannot mean…" He shook his head. "But he is so much older than she is. Georgiana is a child!"

"Hardly a child! She is a little young, but certainly not childish, or naive. Why, she is the same age as Lydia!"

"Is this comparison intended to elevate either young lady?" Darcy said, crossly, putting heavy emphasis on the word young.

"She is but a few years younger than I am! And Bingley a little younger than you. It is not so great a difference in age. And in any case, can you think of any gentleman better suited to her?"

"I can think of several!" Darcy spat, but even as he uttered the words he knew he was saying them merely to contradict his wife and offer an alternative to the suggestion he was not entirely sure he approved of. "That is…Bingley is a good fellow and Georgiana…" He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Georgiana could do far worse than securing the heart of so kind a fellow as Charles Bingley. She already had and proved that not all gentleman could be so easily trusted.

"They hardly know each other," he said, at last, the excuse sounding as feeble to his ears as it had in his head. "And you said yourself that Bingley is wretched over your sister. I certainly do not wish my own sister to become a consolation prize."

"That is not my suggestion at all!" Lizzy said, reaching out and taking one of his hands in both of hers. "And it is, I confess, merely suspicion on my part. I have not seen them together enough to truly judge if my belief is correct."

"It isn't."

"It may not be," she conceded. "But if it is…would you not like to help them?"

Darcy drew a long breath, holding it a moment before letting it out in a sigh.

"I did not realise that marrying you would make me chief meddler in the lives of every poor soul who crosses my path," he grumbled. "First Richard, then Wickham, now Charles." He shook his head. "I draw the line at any more. This Hollington chap and whoever Catherine and Lydia contrive to marry - they shall be left to manage on their own!"

Lizzy smiled, and he was grateful that she did not see the need to correct him on the name of Jane's affianced.

"Georgiana…and Charles. Do you truly think it likely?"

"Possible," Lizzy conceded. "I thought I saw something in Georgiana's features earlier when we talked. I wish to test my theory, and then, my dear, I will defer to you on any intervention you deem necessary."

This was murmured so penitently that Darcy felt another laugh bubbling up inside him.

"It is all very well you be contrite now, wife of mine. I do not for one moment believe you capable of deferring to me when it comes to the happiness of our friends and family." He pulled her closer to him. "It is fortunate, then, that I will bow to your superior knowledge of the workings of the female mind and of the heart. I have never claimed to be an expert in those matters."

"How fortunate, then, that you married me!" Lizzy said, with a satisfied grin.