Bonus chapter!

Chapter Fourteen

Elizabeth and Mrs. Martin were admitted to Darcy House by the housekeeper, who greeted them warmly, saying they were expected.

The lady bypassed the drawing room and led the pair to the music room, where Elizabeth found herself pleasantly surprised to see that Miss Darcy was already present; she sat on the bench at the pianoforte looking through the sheets of music and stood along with her brother when the housekeeper announced them.

Mr. Darcy bowed. "Welcome back to Darcy House," he said with a slight smile.

Elizabeth returned his smile as she curtseyed. "Thank you, Mr. Darcy. Miss Darcy. This is my friend Mrs. Martin. She is a cook but is presently my chaperone until my brother has found a house for us." Focusing her gaze on the younger girl, she added, "Miss Darcy, it is such a pleasure to see you again."

Miss Darcy coloured, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips as she replied, "Thank you. I-I am pleased to see you again as well."

She gestured to the sheets of music. "I… I hope you do not mind, but I thought we might practice some music today. I… I have not played much at all these last few weeks."

Elizabeth smiled again. "I should be delighted."

"Now that your guest has arrived, Georgiana, I shall take my leave of you," said Mr. Darcy then. "If you have need of anything, I shall be in my study."

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said.

"Yes, thank you, Fitzwilliam," added Miss Darcy softly.

Darcy bowed and the ladies curtsied again, then he left the room. Elizabeth breathed a soft sigh of relief at his departure—being in the same room with him again had inconveniently reminded her of the warmth she had felt the night before when he took her hand and kissed the back of it.

Mrs. Martin moved silently over to a sofa, took a small book from her reticule, and began to read. Elizabeth joined Georgiana at the pianoforte and sat next to her on the bench.

"What shall we practice today, Miss Darcy?" she asked.

Miss Darcy looked at her. "Would you please… I mean, only if you do not think it improper, as we have just met, but… Might you call me Georgiana?"

She coloured and looked down at her hands. "Mrs. Younge called me Miss Darcy even after I gave her permission to use my Christian name. Ever since what happened… I-I have difficulty tolerating being addressed that way. Is that silly?"

"I do not think it is silly—and if I am to call you Georgiana, you may skip the 'Miss' and just call me Elizabeth," Elizabeth replied, then added in a softer tone, "I take it this Mrs. Younge person is someone you found you could not trust?"

She already knew the answer, of course, but did not want her new friend to think that her brother had betrayed her trust as well, so was giving her the opportunity to share her misfortune in her own time.

Georgiana nodded. "She was my companion. And she lied to me—and my brother—about who she was," she said in a voice hardly more than a whisper. "She abused our trust in her and helped a man I thought I knew trick me. It was awful!"

She lifted her hands to her face and began to cry. Elizabeth felt pain at her obvious suffering and lifted an arm to wrap it around her shoulders. She gave her a gentle squeeze and made soothing noises for a minute or two, then drew her arm back and began to play a song that had always soothed her when she was upset.

A minute or so passed, then Georgiana took over, sniffling and saying, "No, like this. Watch my hands."

Elizabeth did as directed and watched her friend play the song from the beginning, her hands moving more smoothly—and hitting the right keys where she had fumbled them.

"I see," she said. "It is better to hit the higher notes before the lower on that passage."

"Correct," Georgiana replied. "I confess I had trouble on that second part as well, but my music master helped me to correct my fingering. He insisted I practice it every day for at least half an hour."

Elizabeth grinned. "My old music master—the one at the seminary I attended—would do the same, insisting on practicing one thing for no less than half an hour each day until it was mastered."

Georgiana finished the song, then insisted Elizabeth play it. She then made her play it again, and the second time through, she did do much better. They then moved on to a more complicated piece, in which Elizabeth again fudged her way through the difficult passages during her turn.

More than an hour had passed before Elizabeth became aware that Mr. Darcy had returned to the music room. He'd entered silently and sat in a chair out of her line of sight, only making his presence known when he applauded her efforts at a piece of Bach.

"You play very well, Miss Elizabeth," he said, standing and coming nearer as he spoke.

"I appreciate the compliment, Mr. Darcy, but you need not prevaricate," said she with a laugh. "I know that I am terribly out of practice and did not play nearly as well as I ought."

"That is why you must practice whenever you can," said Georgiana.

"As I told my brother last evening, I do hope that Netherfield has a pianoforte already, or I shall have to buy one myself."

"Have you heard anything regarding the estate, Miss Elizabeth?" Darcy asked.

Elizabeth looked up and shook her head. "Not as yet. Charles was to see his attorney today, but for another matter."

The slight widening of his eyes told her he had some idea what that other matter was. It had pained Elizabeth as much as it had her brother to speak of cutting Caroline from their lives, but what else could they do? She had been so unbelievably hateful.

"Meryton, I understand, is but a four-hour carriage drive away, when the roads and weather are favorable," said Darcy. "I am sure you will hear something today, as Mr. Bingley mentioned that he had already spoken to his man about inquiring about the place."

"I do hope we have news soon, or we shall have to continue our search," said Elizabeth. "I know one should not always take the first offering, but I am really quite eager to be out of the city."

Next to her, Georgiana's expression became mournful. "I wish you were not leaving," she said softly. "We have just become acquainted… a-and you are the first person I've felt I could trust besides Fitzwilliam and Theodore."

Elizabeth quickly reached for her hand and pressed it between her own. "Oh, do not be afraid of losing our friendship, my dear!" said she. "Do not you remember that my brother has extended an invitation to yours to join us in Hertfordshire, if he and I should like the house?"

Georgiana looked up at Darcy. "Did he, Fitzwilliam? I do not remember it."

Mr. Darcy nodded. "He did, yes. Do you think you would enjoy the country?"

His sister nodded vigorously. "Indeed, brother! I have wondered why we do not go home to Pemberley, but really, any pleasant country will do. He likes London, so I shall not be risking any chance of meeting him in the country."

Georgiana's emphasis on the word 'he' left Elizabeth with little doubt as to whom she referred and explained even more her reluctance to leave the house—she had been afraid of running into Mr. Wickham.

A small clock on the mantle over the fireplace chimed then, alerting Elizabeth to just how long she had been there. She stood slowly, saying as she did so, "I am so terribly sorry, Mr. Darcy, Mi—Georgiana. It would seem I have overstayed my welcome."

"You could never do that!" said Georgiana instantly as she also rose.

Darcy smiled. "My sister is correct. You are welcome to call again anytime, Miss Elizabeth."

It was an effort for her not to blush, but Elizabeth did smile. "You are too kind, Mr. Darcy," said she.

He returned her smile, then moved to the bellpull to call a servant, from whom he ordered her carriage when the footman arrived. Georgiana then sat again and started to play a simple, soft melody as Darcy took Elizabeth by the elbow and guided her a few feet away.

"I really must thank you again, Miss Elizabeth," he began. "I honestly do not know if I can ever thank you enough—Georgiana has already shown such a remarkable improvement since meeting you."

The blush she had battled only moments ago was now surely colouring her face a rosy shade of pink. Elizabeth smiled as she demurred, "I have truly done so very little."

"Perhaps," Darcy conceded, "but you aroused her curiosity enough to want to see you for herself. And she came down this morning instead of taking breakfast in her room. She said she was looking forward to your call."

Elizabeth looked up and smiled. "I was looking forward to it as well," said she, then she tilted her head. "Your sister said you do not invite ladies to Darcy House, even if they are the sisters of your friends, but I know my brother visited Pemberley in the spring. Did he not bring Caroline with him? Do you not host dinner parties here?"

Darcy chuckled. "The small party I hosted at Pemberley in the spring was all gentlemen—it was a sporting party, and we all elected to enjoy a few weeks without women to distract us."

"No doubt Charles was pleased to enjoy a few weeks away from Caroline and Louisa," Elizabeth muttered.

Darcy leaned toward her with a conspiratorial smile. "No doubt," said he. "As to dinner parties here, I have hosted a few where ladies were in attendance, but dinner parties are not the same as inviting a lady to call on one's sister."

"With the possibly mad hope that said sister, who has had her ability to trust in others damaged, would trust that said lady will not also take advantage of her tender heart," added Elizabeth.

"I suppose it was a mad hope," Darcy observed. "But my cousin recommended you, and Theodore has always been an excellent judge of character."

Elizabeth grinned then. "And had he been entirely wrong about me, and I was but another vain, insipid girl like my sisters, I would not be standing here now having such a pleasant conversation."

Again, her host chuckled. "I confess you would not. And in the interest of full candor, I am beyond pleased that you are more like Bingley than you are like them—people want to get to know you, and they almost instantly like you, from what I noted at Hiddleston's ball. Also, from our own conversations, I have gathered that you are kind and compassionate. My sister needs a friend with those qualities."

Elizabeth laughed nervously as the butterflies began to dance wildly in her belly, and she waved a hand dismissively as she said, "You really must stop complimenting me so, Mr. Darcy, or I shall be in a perpetual blush all day long."

"It is not merely a compliment—which I shall always pay where deserved—it is the truth," Darcy said with a smile.

The butler stepped into the music room then and announced that the Bingley carriage was now waiting. Georgiana stopped playing and moved over to Elizabeth, then took her hand and pressed it.

"I do hope I shall see you again soon," said she.

"I am sure that you shall," said Elizabeth with a smile. "As soon as I know my brother's plans, I shall send word, or he will. Perhaps we might call together tomorrow, so that your brother is not left alone while we enjoy practicing music together."

She looked up at Darcy then. "That is, of course, if it would not be inconvenient for us to call."

"No indeed," said Darcy. "You and Bingley are more than welcome here at anytime convenient."

"Thank you, sir. That is most gracious of you," Elizabeth replied.

Both Darcys walked with Elizabeth and the silent Mrs. Martin—whom Elizabeth noted was wearing a smile—to the front door, where Georgiana said her farewell. Mr. Darcy walked with the ladies out to the carriage.

"I noticed that you referred to my sister by her Christian name," he said.

"I did, yes," Elizabeth replied. "To be honest, I was really quite surprised she asked me to call her by her given name so soon, at least until she explained why she wished me to."

"What was her reason?" he asked when they reached the pavement.

Elizabeth turned to look at him as Mrs. Martin passed them to stand by the carriage. "Mrs. Younge. Georgiana said that she always called her Miss Darcy even after being given permission to use her Christian name. After having her trust betrayed by the lady, she is uncomfortable with others using the proper form of address."

Darcy appeared contemplative for a moment. "Understandable," he said, "and I have no objection to her allowing you to dispense with formality, though I do hope she does not ask the staff to do the same."

"I should not think so, as you interact with the staff more than she does," Elizabeth observed.

"True enough," said he, then after clearing his throat softly, added, "Following my sister's example, I would not mind if you did not always call me Mr. Darcy. We are friends now, are we not? Just Darcy will do."

Elizabeth felt the butterflies going mad within her even as she smiled and blushed. "It would be my honour to call you a friend as well as your sister, sir. And… I am humbled both that you trusted your cousin enough to take a chance on trusting me, and that Georgiana has so soon understood that she can trust me as well."

"I think it takes a very special sort of person to win the trust of someone troubled so quickly, madam," said Darcy, "but then again, as I said before—you and Bingley both have so natural an ability to get others to like you."

"There you go again with the compliments, sir," Elizabeth said, adopting a teasing tone in an effort to dispel the flutters in her belly at his praise of her. "I shall grow quite vain if you do not cease."

Darcy only laughed as he moved to assist first Mrs. Martin and then herself into the carriage. "Good day, Mrs. Martin. Miss Elizabeth," he said, before thumping his hand against the side of the carriage to signal the driver to start.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and sighed as the carriage pulled away into the road. What was happening to her? she wondered. Why on earth should she blush and feel butterflies whenever that man complimented her? Why did she feel such warmth whenever he was near her, or when she looked into those expressive eyes of his?

Upon opening her own again, she found Mrs. Martin still smiling at her. "Whatever are you smiling for, madam?"

"I am sorry if it disturbs you, Miss Elizabeth," said her companion. "It's just that I cannot help noticing your reaction to Mr. Darcy—or his reaction to you."

Elizabeth scoffed. "Whatever do you mean, Penelope?"

"Shall I be candid?"

Curious in spite of herself, Elizabeth nodded. "Please do."

Mrs. Martin's smile grew wider. "Your breath catches when you look at each other. You both have difficulty in looking away from the other, unless caught doing so. Then you blush."

Elizabeth scoffed again, though she could feel heat in her cheeks even as she said, "I am sure you are quite mistaken. One must look at another person in order to converse with them, and Darcy is only grateful that I have so quickly drawn his sister from her rooms."

"He granted you permission to call him only Darcy," Mrs. Martin pointed out. "And while I think he is as amazed as you are that you and Miss Darcy have got on so well so quickly, he does not desire your company only for her sake. Mr. Darcy admires you, Elizabeth."

"He cannot possibly," Elizabeth protested. "I may have a substantial fortune, but I am a tradesman's daughter. My family has no great connexions in society. Not to mention I am very tan, which is considered an unattractive feature, and I spent four years living in a military camp. There are more marks against me than there are in my favor."

Her companion shrugged. "Perhaps. But the heart wants what it wants, my dear. Love can be a choice, but it also comes naturally."

At this Elizabeth laughed. "Love? How can you speak of love, madam, when the gentleman and I have only known each other two days?"

"I am just saying, Elizabeth, that I observed signs from both you and Mr. Darcy to indicate more than just physical attraction," said Mrs. Martin. "You may not realize it just yet, as it has been only two days, but I daresay you are forming an attachment to each other. Do not dismiss the possibility out of hand and give it a chance when it becomes clear to you. Mr. Darcy may yet surprise you and decide that he cares not what society thinks of his marrying a tradesman's daughter."

What the lady said made a fair amount of sense, Elizabeth mused, but she again reminded herself of the impossibility of a match with someone like Darcy. "Even if Mr. Darcy should decide he likes me," said she, "his aunt and uncle—the earl and countess—are not likely to approve the match."

"They don't get to decide who Mr. Darcy marries, Elizabeth," Mrs. Martin said matter-of-factly. "While they certainly may offer their opinions, as the head of his own family, who Mr. Darcy takes to wife is his own choice."

"They could certainly make life difficult for him if he should choose an unsuitable bride."

"Possibly," her friend conceded. "But if they truly love Mr. Darcy, then they will accept his choice and show the lady the respect she is due."

Mrs. Martin grinned then. "Besides, did you not hear what he said? You have a natural ability for getting others to like you—which is quite true, by the way—so you should have no trouble at all charming an earl and a countess."

Elizabeth found she could only laugh, as the thought occurred to her… Could I?