A Continued Affection

Part 22

The small piano in the parlour of the Darcys' London home could not compare with the music room at Pemberley, but Georgiana did not mind it. Whilst she was without a breadth of music to choose from, nor any instrument beyond the piano, she found just as much solace in playing here as she ever had at Pemberley, if not more so. Here, she allowed her fingers to climb the keys, playing simple scales, airs and personal compositions that she knew so well she did not need sheet music to guide her. She played and she let her thoughts roam freely.

Elizabeth and Darcy. Now that their connection had been remarked upon - and by Mr Egerton, of all people! - Georgiana could not unsee it. How had she not noticed anything between them? Had Elizabeth not been the very person to draw Darcy's attention upon her arrival here? Had her side not been the one her brother had been drawn to, like a moth to a flame?

It was true, he had been as polite as any host could be expected to be, and treated all ladies with deference, always, but with Elizabeth there had been something more there. She might not have named it love but now, upon recollection, she felt certain that it was.

How foolish I am not to have noticed before now! She raked back over her memories, trying to see if she could ever recall any mention of Elizabeth Bennet, by name or otherwise, before now. They had met some time ago was all the intelligence Mr Egerton had to offer, and he had seemed more than a little surprised at her ignorance of the affair. Her cheeks burned. She had thought she and her brother told one another everything...at least, almost everything.

I suppose I cannot be angry with him for keeping a secret. Have I not kept my own secrets from him?

But Elizabeth Bennet was no George Wickham. The two events were barely comparable. Georgiana recalled her conversation with Elizabeth and her shoulders slumped. She hit wrong note after wrong note as she heard herself say, over and over, how she disliked ladies befriending her solely to gain admittance to a closer intimacy with her brother. What she must have thought of me! What must she think now?

There was a light knock at the door and it opened, but Georgiana had tangled her fingers so that she was engaged in untangling them and scarcely noticed the intrusion until Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke.

"Something the matter, Georgiana?" He took a step closer to the piano, leaning around it to catch her eye. "Am I interrupting?"

"No," Georgiana said shortly. She ended in discord, brushing her hands down her skirts and swivelling on her seat so that she might see him more easily. "I did not realise you were here. Forgive me. I did not mean to be rude."

"Rude?" Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed as if the notion were a foolish one. He picked out a one-fingered tune and leaned one hip against the piano. "You have me concerned, though, Cousin. Are you quite well?"

Georgiana glanced over her shoulder and he followed her gaze to the door, answering softly the question she had not asked aloud.

"Darcy is in a meeting with his valet. You need not fear our being overheard."

Georgiana let out a breath she had not been conscious of holding and the sound seemed to confirm whatever fears Colonel Fitzwilliam had been harbouring concerning her. His forehead creased in anxiety.

"Aha." He nodded. "You did not seem like yourself yesterday, although I wondered if my perception was skewed because of my own ill-temper."

Georgiana looked at him, and he smiled.

"Nothing you need fret over. I have talked it over with Darcy and the matter is managed as best it can be, for now. So tell me, what is it that troubles you?" He tugged on his cuffs, straightening and lifting his chin as if to affect the very position of gentleman. "I know I am not your brother, but I happen to possess at least some brains that I use quite well at least some of the time." He winked. "How can I help?"

Georgiana paused for a moment, wondering if she ought to confide in her cousin. It was not that she did not trust him. Far from it. After Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam was the gentleman she admired and respected most in the world, but she was not sure what his opinion would be when she told him all she had learned. Would he know already? This curiosity made it impossible to conceal the secret any longer and she blurted out the question that had been on her lips since she had first heard the story.

"Did you know Darcy was once engaged?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyebrows shot up, and Georgiana amended her words, thinking that she had perhaps blown the connection out of proportion. Egerton had not used the word engaged, she had merely fabricated it, imagining the seriousness of the connection, and applying all she knew of her brother.

"Almost engaged."

"Engaged and almost engaged are not entirely the same thing," Richard said, his lips quirking into a half-smile as he looked at her and Georgiana coloured, fearing he made an oblique reference to her earliest justifications of her plot to elope with George Wickham.

"Very well, did you know that he had been in love?"

"I should think it peculiar if he never had," Richard remarked, with a chuckle he swallowed when he saw she was still looking at him. "Look, Georgiana, you are a good deal different in age, and he is a gentleman and you are a young lady. You cannot expect to know everything he has ever done or every friend he as ever made." His eyes darkened. "I assure you there is at least one friend of Darcy's I should wish you never to have met. But, come along, why is it so very terrible to think that Darcy has been in love before? Or - now, perhaps I understand the matter. You venture to think he is in love now and wish to compare it with times past to see if this time the thing might stick?"

He brightened, enlivened by the promise of gossip.

"Tell me, who is the lady?" He paused, grimacing. "But please do not say it is Caroline Bingley. She has been after Darcy as long as he has been friends with her brother, and whilst I do not like to speak ill of any young lady -"

"Lies." Georgiana smiled, amused to see her cousin's old grudge against the avaricious, conspiratorial Caroline Bingley was still aflame. "But you may put your mind at rest. My brother has no more affection for Caroline Bingley than ever. Perhaps less, now that -"

"Now that he has met someone who surpasses her." Richard beamed. "Well, do not keep me in suspense. Have you met the young lady? Do you approve of his choice?" The smile fell. "Or is that the problem? Do not tell me he has had his foolish head turned by a pretty bit of lace and silk hiding an abominable personality." He groaned. "I have seen it happen all too often. My own brother -" He paused, clamping his lips shut as Georgiana sensed a piece of gossip she, herself, was not privy to.

"But we are not talking about my brother's follies. Come along, then, tell Cousin Richard all the drama." He folded his arms across his chest and bade her continue, so she told him all she knew.

"...I do not see why they ever parted if they were so very much in love. There was no cause for them not to marry, then, or at any time since!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam frowned.

"When did you say this was?"

"I don't know for certain. Three years ago? Five, maybe?"

"Four?" Richard prompted, punctuating his question by tapping a piano key. The note rang, stark in the silence, and realisation dawned in Georgiana's mind.

"Four years ago." She nodded, recalling the time that she the house had been thrown into uproar and Darcy had been summoned back from a visit to London with all haste. He had not left Pemberley again immediately, nor for many months afterwards. And when he had, he had been changed. Grief, loss, the total and all-consuming change to his position that had been wrought by the loss of their father had made her serious brother more serious still. It had also, evidently, sounded the death-knell for whatever fledgeling romance he had been pursuing at the time.

"Why the sudden history lesson?" Richard asked, viewing Georgiana with curiosity. "Are you scheming to have a reunion?"

"I do not need to," Georgiana said, drawing in a breath that sealed the decision she had made, at first only hazily but now, in speaking to her cousin, with more and more determination to see it worked out. "Fate has already done it. Elizabeth Bennet is here in London. She dined here with her family not three nights ago and we shall see them again this evening, at the assembly."