Georgiana Darcy did not remember her mother. The lady, fragile and frail, had passed on when Georgiana was but a child of three.
She did remember her father. George Darcy had been kind, gentle, and busy. The latter was no surprise, of course; Pemberley was a vast estate and required much attention. Georgiana was largely raised by servants, but on those unusual occasions when she was in the company of her father, the elder Darcy had shown how much he loved and valued her.
When her father had died, Georgiana was but ten years old, and she was left under the guardianship and care of her older brother and her cousin, Richard Fitzwilliam.
She remembered sobbing into her brother's black coat the day of the funeral, with Fitzwilliam wrapped strong arms around her before he was required to leave for the ceremony which would end with the earthly remains of George Darcy placed in the ground.
Her father had died in late spring, and she remembered the smell of lilacs wafting through her open window as a wagon carried her father's body away for the last time.
Since that moment, she had disliked the smell of lilacs.
Thereafter, Georgiana had been under the protection and oversight of her brother, who had proven a most diligent and kindly guardian. Even last summer, when she had been fool enough to agree to an elopement with George Wickham, he had been gentle with her.
Pemberley was home to scores of people, but only two of the occupants were Darcys. Now, if her brother had his way, there would shortly be a third, for Fitzwilliam was courting a lady by the name of Elizabeth Bennet.
Georgiana had known this day would come. Known it, and dreaded it. She had always been shy around strangers, and now, with the memory of her own stupidity in Ramsgate the previous year, she was terrified.
"What if Miss Bennet does not like me?" she asked, speaking aloud for the first time in an hour.
Darcy, who had been staring out at the countryside, his heart fluttering with anticipation at seeing Elizabeth again, turned in amazement which quickly gave way to sympathetic understanding. "My dear Georgiana," he said, wrapping one arm around the girl's slender form, "I assure you that Miss Bennet is kindness herself. She will of course like you."
Georgiana looked down and began plaiting the fringe of her shawl with nervous hands. "Miss Bingley knows Miss Bennet, correct?"
"Yes," Darcy responded, a trifle bewildered.
She lifted her head to face him now, her cornflower eyes focused on his own dark ones. "Does Miss Bingley like Miss Bennet?"
Darcy hesitated. Mr. Bingley and his family were some of Georgiana's few friends, and he did not wish to alarm his sister, but he could not lie, either.
"I fear she does not," he admitted, "but that is only because Miss Bingley was jealous of Miss Bennet ..."
He trailed away as a smile lit up Georgiana's face.
"Good," the girl said with obvious satisfaction, then laughed at the confused expression on her brother's face.
"Miss Bingley is always extremely courteous to me, of course, because I am a Darcy," Georgiana explained, "but I do not like the way she denigrates those around her. I know that Miss Bennet is the daughter of a country gentleman, and not a member of the haut ton. If she and Miss Bingley were good friends, I would be nervous."
Darcy chuckled and said, "You are correct, of course and I fear Miss Bingley dislikes the Bennets very much. Eliza... Miss Bennet is very intelligent, with a remarkable capacity for verbal fencing. Miss Bingley always came up the loser in their duels."
He leaned over and planted a kiss on his sister's bonneted head. "You will like Miss Bennet, and she will like you. I promise."
Georgiana leaned against her brother's tall form and allowed herself to relax. "I hope you are right."
"I am."
/
Rockhill
Mary Bennet watched as Philip, Lord Chartham, finished the final stanzas of one of Mozart's Viennese sonatinas. His hands came to rest, and his dark head bowed over the piano keys, allowing Mary the pleasure of admiring his well sculpted head with its unfashionably short dark hair.
A moment later, she blushed and looked away. She really must learn to control her thoughts! Lord Chartham was so far above her that he might as well be a prince himself! She was Mary Bennet, the plainest of the Bennet sisters. She was no match for an earl.
If only her heart was as easy to discipline as her mind. Unfortunately, that wayward organ consistently sped up in the presence of her cousin from India. Not that they were even related by blood, of course; Aaron Gardiner was merely Chartham's stepfather.
"The last few stanzas should be played with a gentle touch, Miss Mary," Philip said, rising from the piano stool and gazing at her with his usual intensity.
"Yes, it sounds much better than my latest attempt," she agreed, forcing a calm expression. "Thank you."
"It is my pleasure, of course," Philip agreed, and smiled. "You have made great progress in the time we have worked together."
"It is kind of you to say so," Mary replied, smiling back. It was true; Chartham was not only a remarkable performer, but an excellent teacher.
A moment later, the Earl frowned and strode toward the window. Mary turned as well, just in time to see a carriage flash by, with one familiar gentleman peering out the window toward the mansion.
"It is Mr. Darcy, and probably his sister," Mary said, pleased that Elizabeth would soon be reunited with the man who was courting her. She knew her elder sister well enough to know that Lizzy would never agree to a courtship unless she respected the man in question. She had every hope that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth would make a match of it.
"Would you please come to the front door to greet him and his sister?" Philip asked. "I would appreciate it very much."
Mary looked at him in surprise and asked timidly, "Do you not like Mr. Darcy?"
"I like him very well, but I have never met his sister. I find meeting new people to be a difficult matter, as I am not yet familiar with the customs here in England."
Mary nodded and said, "Of course. Shall we go?"
Philip held out one arm rather awkwardly, and Mary took it, aware that her own color was heightened. Together they walked toward the vestibule of the great house, where Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, and Elizabeth were already waiting.
A footman opened the door, and Mr. and Miss Darcy entered. Introductions were made all around, with Mary curtseying toward both her sister's admirer and that gentleman's sister. She felt her throat tighten at the sight of Miss Darcy, who was clad in an expensive Merino pelisse, dyed with indigo, with a beautiful poke bonnet on her head. Miss Darcy was not as handsome as Elizabeth, but she was prettier than Mary, and rumor had it that Miss Darcy was an excellent performer on the pianoforte and the harp.
It would not be surprising if Lord Chartham fell in love with Miss Darcy, Mary thought gloomily. The Darcys were wealthy and well connected, certainly far more so than the Bennets.
Elizabeth, while unaware of her sister's thoughts, was also a tumult of emotion. In the week since she had last seen her beau, she had missed Mr. Darcy more than she thought possible. Now he was back at Rockhill at last, and he had brought his sister.
Miss Georgiana Darcy, to her considerable surprise, proved to be incredibly shy to the point of almost being unable to speak. Elizabeth had admired her aunt, Mrs. Sophia Gardiner, from the day they first met, but she had never been so impressed as now, when the matron managed to coax Georgiana to speak a few words, and then personally guided her upstairs to her bedchamber, which had been refurbished and renewed in the last days.
This left Elizabeth with Darcy, who was gazing at her with joyful hunger in his eyes. The two stepped a little closer to one another, and Elizabeth reached out to take the gentleman's gloved hands in her own.
"I missed you, Mr. Darcy," she murmured with a demure smile.
"I missed you as well," he said and tightened his hands a little, shooting warmth into Elizabeth's fingers. "I missed you very much."
/
In later years, Georgiana was fond of saying that her weeks at Rockhill were among the most peculiar of her life. Lord Chartham, master of the estate, startled her the day they met by requesting that she play the pianoforte for him, whereupon he played the same piece of music, with considerably more skill, and offered to give her music lessons!
The Earl's stepfather and mother, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, were very welcoming, with an ease of manner which did not quite conceal their tradesman roots. Well, Mrs. Gardiner was the daughter of the viscount, but she had spent decades in India, working alongside her husband in a foreign land.
The house itself was enormous, nearly as big as Pemberley, and was in a constant state of upheaval. There were workmen rushing to and fro during the day, often speaking in a foreign tongue, and her brother Fitzwilliam, when he was not spending time with Elizabeth, could be found in odd corners consulting with the Earl or his stepfather about various problems with the estate.
Meals were often remarkable; there were always a few familiar dishes, but the Earl and his family were fond of strange Indian foods as well. Georgiana, to her considerable surprise and her brother's impressed astonishment, discovered that she thoroughly delighted in spicy meals.
To her amazement and delight, Georgiana found herself entirely comfortable at Rockhill. Miss Bennet and her sisters were as welcoming and kind as could be, as were the new Earl's siblings. Lady Rebekah and Miss Gardiner were both remarkably gifted artists, and the former also had a lovely soprano singing voice. When she and Miss Bennet sang together to the Earl's accompaniment, it sounded like the angels on the day that the Christ child was born!
Georgiana found herself spending many hours outside, sometimes with only Elizabeth and Darcy, and often with her new friends. She slept and ate well, and was content.
Best of all, it was obvious to everyone that Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet were in love. Georgiana, now confident of the lady's good heart and sympathetic personality, looked forward to the day when Elizabeth Darcy would step into Pemberley's halls as mistress. Elizabeth brought joy and happiness everywhere she went.