Page 33 of A Question of Character

Darcy arranged the saucer beside its cup. “Your niece would disagree.”

“My niece makes a study of unsettling respectable people.”

“She is very accomplished.”

“And you admire accomplishment.”

“Some forms more than others.”

Mr. Gardiner’s grin deepened, but before he could reply, Georgiana and Miss Bennet returned. Elizabeth carried a sheet of music in one hand and a biscuit in the other, suggesting they had visited the tea table by a side route.

“Miss Darcy has been slandered,” Elizabeth announced. “The music is difficult, but not beyond her. Mrs. Younge is far too severe.”

Georgiana followed her in with visible pleasure and a faint anxiety that surfaced at the mention of her companion.

Mrs. Gardiner glanced toward the hall. “I had hoped to see Mrs. Younge before we left. I wished to ask whether she would accompany us to the panorama next week.”

“She has gone out,” Georgiana replied.

Georgiana sat near Elizabeth, smoothing her skirt before answering. “She is writing letters, I believe.”

Elizabeth accepted a cup of tea from Darcy and handed it to Georgiana before taking her own. “She must be a prodigious correspondent. She is nearly always writing when I call.”

The remark was innocent.

Georgiana’s spoon clinked lightly against her saucer.

Darcy noticed that and then resented noticing it. His sister merely said, “Mrs. Younge has many acquaintances.”

“I envy her industry,” Elizabeth replied, settling beside her. “I owe Jane three letters and have answered none of them properly. If I do not write soon, she will imagine London has swallowed me whole.”

“Would she be very worried?” Georgiana asked.

“Jane worries beautifully. She always thinks the best of everyone and fears the worst when affection requires it.”

“She sounds very kind.”

Elizabeth nodded. “She is. You would like her very much.”

“Then I hope I shall meet her one day.”

Elizabeth smiled at her. “So do I.”

Georgiana lifted her cup, and some of the tension left her shoulders. Darcy, watching from beside the tea table, told himself there was nothing peculiar in the scene. A young lady did not like to be teased over her companion’s habits. That was all.

Mrs. Gardiner asked him something about the panorama, and Darcy answered, though without the confidence that had once made him certain he knew every shade of Georgiana’s mood.

After tea, Georgiana went to the pianoforte. She did not perform formally, but sorted through music and played snatches of whatever caught her fancy. Mrs. Gardiner joined her, and Mr. Gardiner, having exhausted porcelain, took up the newspaper Darcy had set out earlier. This left Elizabeth upon the sofa near the low table, and Darcy, after handing Mrs. Gardiner a footstool, allowed himself to sit beside her.

Not too near.

Near enough.

She noticed, of course. Miss Bennet noticed everything. Instead of remarking upon it, she leaned slightly toward the table and selected one of the almond cakes.

“I have discovered,” she said, examining it before taking a bite, “that your cook continues to be dangerous.”

“She will be flattered.”