Page 125 of What Change Entails

Darcy stood near the windows.

Elizabeth had become absurdly aware of him in recent days.

At dinner she had nearly mistaken sugar for salt because he happened to look toward her when Bingley mentioned Hertfordshire. Earlier that afternoon she had forgotten half a conversation with Mrs. Gardiner after Darcy smiled at something Lydia said regarding archery and military incompetence.

Such lapses did not improve her opinion of herself.

“You must play,” Lydia announced.

Georgiana started a little. “Must I?”

“Yes. Otherwise, Mr. Bingley will sing.”

Bingley brightened. “I should be delighted.”

“No,” Lydia replied with great firmness. “We must think of the county.”

Mr. Gardiner and his wife shared an amused smile.

Georgiana’s uncertainty eased enough for amusement to appear in her expression. “Very well. Though I warn you, Lydia has become impossible since discovering I dislike performing before strangers.”

“You are among allies now,” Lydia declared.

Georgiana sought her brother’s reassurance before turning to the instrument.

Elizabeth crossed the room almost without thought. “May I turn pages for you?”

Color rose softly into Georgiana’s cheeks. “If you please.”

They settled together at the pianoforte while the others arranged themselves nearby. Rain drifted against the windows in a soft, steady pattern. Somewhere deeper within the house a clock marked the quarter hour.

Georgiana began cautiously.

Elizabeth recognized apprehension in the first piece. Georgiana possessed excellent skill, yet difficult passages still carried traces of hesitation, as if criticism might emerge from any missed note whether anyone offered it or not.

The second piece flowed more easily.

By the third, Georgiana forgot herself altogether.

Music filled the room warmly while Elizabeth turned pages beside her. Bingley listened with open admiration. Mrs. Gardiner’s stitching slowed. Lydia remained silent nearly three full minutes, which Elizabeth considered evidence of deep attachment.

Darcy had not moved from the window.

His attention rested upon Georgiana with such unmistakable tenderness that Elizabeth’s chest tightened unexpectedly. Pride existed there certainly, but also vigilance. She thought of Ramsgate, of hurried explanations and half-spoken fears, of a brother who had arrived in time to prevent lasting ruin.

A man did not watch his sister so closely without reason.

The final notes faded gently into the room.

Bingley applauded first.

Lydia followed with tremendous enthusiasm. “Again.”

Georgiana chuckled softly. “Certainly not.”

“Yes, again. Or else I shall play.”

“That sounds less like encouragement and more like extortion,” Darcy observed from across the room.