Chapter 3

Georgiana did not want to go down to dinner, but of course, she did what she was supposed to do-as always-reluctantly descending down the stairs to the dining room.

Dinner was quiet. Thankfully, Lady Catherine declined to eat at Pemberley, and so Georgiana, Elizabeth, and her brother sat around the fine, long table by themselves. A roaring fire warmed the room, but there was little talk. Her brother and his wife both seemed caught in their own thoughts.

"How is Cassandra? Is she sleeping better?" Georgiana asked Elizabeth, who smiled sweetly back at her.

"She is well. A little colicky, but they tell me most babies are at her age."

Georgiana returned Elizabeth's smile and wondered momentarily if there was anything Elizabeth couldn't master. She seemed able to sail through almost anything: good society, delivery and confinement, Lady Catherine's scorn, and a colicky infant. Even her mercurial brother's moods could be tamed by her pluck and wit. Georgiana simultaneously found it mildly annoying and wondered how she could be more like her.

Darcy raised a spoonful of soup to his mouth. Even he recognized Elizabeth's good qualities. Georgiana realized she had no excuse for not to strive for greater self-improvement. She had no excuse not to be better. But she was also tired of being told what to do. Her whole life she'd listened to other people tell her where to stand, how to act, and what to say. She again imagined Lady's Catherine's singular gaze upon her earlier that day and her stomach tightened. She was supposed to do well by her family, which meant to make a good match. She remembered Adam Merriweather's kind eyes, and how he set the runaway kitten inside his shirt to keep her warm when they were locked outside at Christmas.

She realized Darcy said something to her.

"Have you given any thought to Aunt Catherine's offer to be presented at court? We could go to London in March or April. That would allow you to prepare and buy all the dresses, jeweled combs and other fripperies you need."

Heat crept up Georgiana's face. His comment had been lightly made, as though he were teasing. She hadn't thought he would seriously consider Lady Catherine's offer. She felt Elizabeth's eyes on her as well. What if she agreed with him?

Tears pricked behind Georgiana's eyes and her nose stung as she looked down at the table and her lonely bowl of soup. The thought of being presented at St. James made her heart pound with panic and her thoughts muddle uncomfortably.

She was silent as a tear slipped down her cheek and onto her napkin.

Elizabeth noticed and straightened up immediately.

"Oh, Georgiana. Don't be upset. Darcy has no intention of forcing you to do something you are so opposed to," Elizabeth set her hand on Georgiana's and looked to Darcy, who toyed with his soup spoon.

Elizabeth blinked at Darcy. Georgiana's vision blurred from tears once more. She could see she was causing strife between her brother and his new wife. She couldn't bear it. She had to leave.

"May I be excused from dinner?" Georgiana said quietly.

Elizabeth looked to Darcy when he nodded once and she stood up and quickly left the room.

Darcy gazed solemnly at the air left behind when his sister abandoned the dinner table as though she had evaporated into it.

Elizabeth waited for him to say something, address the fact that his sister had left the table in tears, but he did not. She sighed audibly and finally slapped her napkin on the table in frustration.

"Are you also unwell?" Darcy finally asked when he noticed she had stopped eating.

Elizabeth's cheeks burned and she knew her face was pink, and she could barely open to mouth to answer.

Be calm, Lizzie.

"I am concerned that your sister seemed very upset," she said finally, her voice ringing through the large dining room louder than she meant it to.

She studied his face, his downturned gaze, and dark eyelashes fluttering on his cheek. Could he really be so unfeeling? So cold? She blinked and wondered how if she knew him at all.

She felt the pressure build up behind her eyes. But she vowed she wouldn't cry.

Darcy met her gaze and held it for a moment, and she saw something of the warmth there that she somehow missed when she first met him.

He's not a monster.

"Elizabeth," he said slowly. "Despite what you may be thinking, I do not prefer my sister to suffer." He refolded the orange napkin in his lap. "Nor do I relish seeing her being uncomfortable or distressed."

Elizabeth swallowed tightly.

She checked her tongue lest she say something she would forever regret.

"Nor my wife either," he added softly. "I am simply weighing the logic of Lady Catherine's offer. Being presented at court is usually considered a desirable experience for young women."

Elizabeth pressed her lips together. Surely he wouldn't force Georgiana to go to court if she was petrified. She held her tongue and let him speak again.

"I see now how you're looking at me. Do you think me so cold and unfeeling that I wish my sister to suffer?"

Elizabeth held her breath, not wanting to admit for a terrible moment she had been thinking just that. Was she a poor wife that she doubted him so quickly?

"Indeed," he said when she did not speak. "I do not usually fall in line with Lady Catherine's inclinations, but perhaps Georgiana, along with her cousin Anne, could benefit from a presentation at court. Perhaps it may conquer her shyness."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to reply, and then stopped.

"Please hear me," he said, his eyes shone earnestly. "The cousins will have each other for company, and if you and I accompany them to London, we can watch and guide them as needed. Both girls could benefit from expanded societies." He met Elizabeth's gaze again. "Frankly, it may be Anne's only chance to escape her mother's orbit."

Elizabeth was quiet.

She hadn't thought of Anne's perspective, but indeed, if she were to have any sort of independence from her mother, Anne needed to escape her clutches. That she hadn't thought of her at all shamed her.

"Do you really think Anne could make a match?" She said and then reddened at her lack of faith in his cousin.

Darcy shrugged gently. "She has a large dowry. Odder matches have occurred." His lips quirked upwards and he took a sip of port.

Elizabeth blushed and nodded, regret thrumming in her chest. She had been so quick to judge Darcy as unfeeling. What kind of wife was she to think so? But was it wrong to ask Georgiana to do this? Her head hurt from her conflicting thoughts.

Finally, Elizabeth reached over and placed her hand on his larger one. He looked up from his soup to her face with surprise.

"Cassandra will come to London too?"

Darcy's brows rose.

"Do you think I would have my wife and infant be apart?" His eyes contained a warm, teasing spark. "You do think me a monster! I'd not spent a month in town without you, nor she. She can wail just as well in London as she does at Pemberley."

Elizabeth smiled and tried to quell her fears for Georgiana.

"It is very thoughtful to consider your cousin's prospects. I admit I had not previously considered her perspective."

Darcy nodded, a shadow of something she couldn't decipher passing over his eyes.

"Perhaps I owe it to her. Besides, If either girl is unhappy, we may pile them all back into the carriage and bring the whole lot home."

Elizabeth nodded and smiled at him. His words did make sense. Now how would they discuss it reasonably with Georgiana?

Georgiana lay on her bed and pulled a string along for one of the kittens to chase. Her tears had mostly dried as Poppet and Muffin entertained her by leaping atop one another and wrestling each other in cat-play.

"Why has he not written?" she said aloud and petted them.

She hoped she would receive a missive from Adam today, as she had written to him two days ago, and it was his turn to reply. They wrote each other back and forth from the perspective of the cats from both Pemberley to Fenton Park, his father's estate.

His last note to her had ostensibly been from a gray barn cat to Poppet, describing how the barn cat planned to sneak into Pemberley, exile both Muffin and Poppet and reign supreme as Pemberley's only feline occupant once it learned to pick locks with his claws. He warned he was close to acquiring the knowledge.

Georgiana had written back as Poppet saying that Muffin had grown soft from being inside all winter and that any such action violated the 1773 Act of Protection Housed Cats and would be seen as aggression by the Cats of Fenton Park to those at Pemberley. She warned such an act would force the felines to engage in the help of Pemberley's canines, thus escalating the battle.

But he'd hadn't replied. Perhaps he was busy. She propped herself up on her arm and dangled the ribbon for Poppet, who swiped at.

Something else bothered her. She couldn't be the source of conflict between her brother and Elizabeth. Her new sister had been so good to her, the very last thing she wanted was to have them divided on her behalf. She understood Elizabeth wanted to protect her, and she would be terrified at court, but maybe she needed to perform this uncomfortable duty so everyone would stay united. She couldn't have Darcy and Elizabeth fighting over her.

Tears banked her eyes again.

She knew she held back from London society in part due to her affection for Adam, but here he was not responding to her. Maybe she needed to be introduced to greater society than Derbyshire. She wondered what Elizabeth would do if she were in her position. She sat up quickly.

Elizabeth would undoubtedly conquer her nerves, be presented and win over the royal court while probably making a bosom friend of Queen Charlotte. Georgiana had vowed to be more like Elizabeth.

Georgiana sighed and scratched the kitten's soft head. She knew what she needed to do.

After dinner, Darcy and Elizabeth sat in the drawing room. She busied herself with needlepoint, while Darcy read the paper.

After several silent moments, he looked on his wife, who was quiet and completely engaged with embroidery. After dinner, she usually regaled him with stories of incidents with servants or some news from town. He peered at her and wondered what she was thinking.

Was she missing her family back at Longbourn, annoying as they may have been at times (for even the most annoying family was still family)? Did she miss the quiet companionship of her father's library or the laughter of her younger sisters? She must miss her outings in the fields near Longbourn, though of course, Pemberley had more land many times over. But he knew it wasn't her beloved home.

Out of the corner of his eye, he gazed at her again. The firelight shone off her hair and made her eyes look large and liquid and shadows lengthened her eyelashes. He saw again the fine beauty he'd first noticed at the country dance so long ago. Her eyes were wide and clear, her mouth turned up prettily, even in repose. He realized that he had not given much thought to how difficult it must have been for her to move into a foreign area, set up a new home (no matter how grand) with a different family, and become a wife and a mother and mistress or a home in one fast year. And she had done it without complaining, which was beyond his abilities. He hadn't even considered rude aunt's rudeness.

Even today, while they were still trying to get Cassandra to sleep through the night and all he wanted to do was sleep through dinner, his unpleasant aunt had appeared, barely acknowledged his new wife and made demands that would upend the coming months of her life. Darcy realized he had not appreciated Elizabeth's exceeding tolerant disposition.

"Is that a particularly challenging work of needlepoint?" he finally asked, breaking the silence and getting his wife's attention.

Elizabeth looked up as though she realized she had been lost in her work. She blushed prettily.

"Oh, I am sorry. I'm trying to get a stitch just right and it doesn't seem to be holding. I suspect it's more of a reflection on my needlepoint skills that it won't."

In truth, he felt a reluctance from her since Lady Catherine's visit. He felt they were an odd, uneven footing and he wanted to smooth things over.

The silence was pierced by a particularly loud wail from Cassandra. Even though she was upstairs in the nursery, it traveled clearly to the new parent's ears.

"The clarion call," Elizabeth said, standing up, sighing and setting her needlepoint on the loveseat beside her. "I will look in on her,"

Darcy watched his wife hurry up the stairs, feeling a confusing pull of emotions toward her. He wanted to follow and aid her, but he also didn't want to be too eager or make her feel as though he didn't trust her ability to be mistress of the house.

After a moment, the cries subsided and only the fire crackled in the hearth. Then he heard a noise, a distinctly human exhalation of air, and looked up to see Georgiana standing quietly in the threshold of the door. She looked subdued.

"Georgiana, what are you doing there?"

She was quiet, but her pink face was suggested she may have been crying.

"I am well," she said sounding more mature than her seventeen years. "Pray, where is Elizabeth?"

"She was gone upstairs to check on Cassandra. She will be down shortly. "Please come and join us."

But Georgiana simply stood still, as though she were deciding what to do next. Then, as though a cannonball had been fired, two small blurs shot into the room.

"Georgiana, do come in. Your cats already have."

Georgiana stirred to collect them. "I thought I'd closed my door behind me. Come here, Muffin." She managed to grab the scruff of one while the other skittered across the floor near Darcy. She reached for the second, who bolted out of the way, leaping to a table and bumping over unlit candles and several of Darcy's papers. The footman appeared behind her.
"Dunham, will you grab Poppet if you can?"

The footman nodded and bent his knees slightly, reading himself for the catch.

Darcy, too, stood up and reached for the errant kitten, but she bounced out of the way again, chasing Muffin out of Georgiana's arms.

"Your cats are a menace to all good society," Darcy said, but he winked when she looked at him.

Elizabeth then appeared in the door, holding Cassandra as the two small cats seemed to ricochet around the room.

"What chaos has been unleashed here?" Elizabeth said as animals and humans attempted to right themselves and a single leaf of paper wafted to the floor.

Georgiana successfully grabbed one of the cats, and then Darcy's hands found the second when it leaped up on his armrest and gazed at him earnestly.

"The feline kind," Darcy said holding the cat for the footman to take her, which made Elizabeth smile.

"I am sorry," Georgiana said, looking sheepishly at Darcy's papers and candles now knocked the floor, not to mention the orange fur that drifted in the air.

"It is quite all right, Georgiana," Elizabeth said cheerfully as she approached Darcy with the baby in her arms. "Look who has come to say goodnight."

Darcy's felt uncharacteristically giddy when he spied his now awake child. She truly made a beautiful picture with her mother. He held out his arms. "Allow me to kiss the little sausage."

After the cats were removed, Georgiana sank down onto the loveseat next to Darcy and gazed upon the baby.

"I have made a decision," Georgiana said gravely, drawing the attention of both her brother and his wife.

"I didn't realize you were weighing one," Darcy said as his wife set the squirming bundle in his arms.

Georgiana looked down at her lap nervously. Elizabeth saw her posture and turned her attention more fully to her.

"I have decided I will be presented at St. James court with cousin Anne if you both think it's a wise idea."

Darcy looked up from Cassandra and met Georgiana's gaze with a furrowed brow.

"Are you quite certain?"

Georgiana nodded. "If Cousin Anne will go with me, I will do it."

Elizabeth's hand went to her chest and she looked from Darcy to Georgiana. "Are you sure?"

She nodded calmly again.

"I don't wish to cause disharmony in our home, particularly between you, brother, and Elizabeth.

"G. you did not cause-," Darcy started to say, but his words faded as he spoke them, realizing then the tension between he and Elizabeth finally eased only now.

He sat back and stopped talking, holding the warm bundle of his daughter in his arms, as Georgiana and his wife chatted quietly.

His younger sister was wiser and perceptive more than he realized. Perhaps he underestimated her after all.