The next morning was a brilliant, crisp day. Despite the season it seemed as if every cloud had been driven from the sky, and there was nothing but the glorious ability to see for miles. Elizabeth wrapped herself warmly in her favorite red jacket and shawl as she walked up to knock on the entrance to Netherfield. She had come to call on Georgiana and Jane.

Strange exaltation sat in her stomach. She did not understand her mood, even though last night had been a great success. Mr. Darcy was a fine dancer. She was now piercing through to his soul. He was so…vulnerable. He took so much upon himself, expected so much of himself, and he was miserable when he did not achieve it.

They liked each other greatly.

She could host his dinners and balls — he had said he was happy to do such things for those he loved. Nothing too grand, not too often. Darcy was not the sort who would like many grand entertainments, to impress the whole neighborhood, in the way of Bingley or Mrs. Bennet. But he had liked meeting new persons and beginning to become their friends last night.

He liked John Lucas and Felicia; surely that must be a sign.

Again. She was again imagining marrying Mr. Darcy. She’d told herself three times this morning to stop. She was losing control of herself. She could not stop thinking about him.

She would be rational.

When Mrs. Bennet had stood in the passageway, decked out in as much lace as a dressmaker’s mannequin, to go out for the morning, Elizabeth had begged her to head in the direction of Netherfield so that she could call on Georgiana and Jane.

Elizabeth hoped Mr. Darcy would be gone, so that she could have a little bit of peace in which to question Georgiana about her brother. Georgiana would surely tell some story about him that would let Elizabeth put that man out of her head forever and return to the peaceful calm tenor of her life with her father.

Like she wanted to.

The carriage ride took its time. Three miles could not be traveled in a minute, even with a jangling chaise and a dry, cold day with neither ice nor mud. They called on two acquaintances on the way. Mrs. Bennet intended to use the day to crow like a cawing rooster to everyone about how well Georgiana had been received by John Lucas and his wife — the children of the knight — and the Gouldings, such an old and respected family.

Mrs. Bennet also bragged about the ball that Bingley planned to announce in a day or two for Georgiana. On account of Lady Lucas’s interference with the assembly committee, Mrs. Bennet felt any success Georgiana achieved more keenly than the girl herself.

The second friend they called upon lived only a half mile from Netherfield. This was not more than a modest walk, so Elizabeth set off to the house alone. Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, as Elizabeth left, “Tell Jane greetings! And sweet Bennet too! But I shall not call today. I am far too busy, ‘tis more important to finish the matter once started. After last night, everyone should hear from me. I warrant I can get Georgiana invited to every house without a young daughter. Except Lady Hampton — I do not like enthusiasts. They say she is low church.”

Elizabeth left and started the walk along the hard dirt road shaded by bare oak trees with a smile. She rather doubted that her mother knew what the difference between high and low church was, but she certainly knew that being low church was not the thing.

Maybe Darcy would think her strange and forward to walk to the home, even though her sister was its mistress. At present Jane was overshadowed: Netherfield meant Darcy.

“All alone? I am disappointed in Jane. And your brother.” Those were the first words Elizabeth spoke upon being led into the nursery where Georgiana supervised a game played between Bennet and Anne.

Both children leapt from their finely carved set of backgammon. “Lizzy!”

She laughed and picked each up with a giggling swoop to kiss them on the foreheads before placing them down. “Abandoned by all? Terrible.”

“I am quite happy. Quite.” She smiled. “Jane needed to make calls this morning, and my brother is quite used to how I sometimes prefer solitude.”

“Goodness, a hint I ought keep this visit short?”

“No!”

Elizabeth laughed.

“I am happy to see you. You see, I had opportunity to think already — roll the dice, Bennet, it is your turn — your company is always welcome.”

“Only mine?”

“Certainly not only.”

“Does your brother often leave you alone? I imagined he would hover, to ensure you did not waste time on fruitless, overly learned pursuits. To ensure you do not read sentimental novels, or the like.”

There. Subtle.

Georgiana could not possibly gather from that question that she was probing for a serious purpose. Which was to confirm it would be a terrible idea to marry him, if he should ask. Which he would not.

“I am so happy!” Georgiana bounced on the stuffed sofa, unfortunately ignoring the question. “I am exceedingly eager for Bingley’s ball.”

“It will be a little ball, do not expect one of those glittering parties in London with a thousand pair, all titled.”

“Lizzy, the entire peerage is much less than a thousand persons.”

Elizabeth blinked. “It is?”

“Yes. You can count the entries in Debrett’s.”

“Does that include the baronets? They are listed separately by Debrett in The Baronetage.”

“Uhhh.” Georgiana’s face twisted in an odd expression. “I am not certain…no not the baronets. I did not count them.”

“Gracious, Georgie, when did you count all the entries in The Peerage?”

The girl blushed and waved her hands side to side. “I liked Mr. Lucas and Mrs. Goulding so much. So kind! I admire them both. And thank you, thank you, thank you for encouraging me to play — Fitzwilliam was so happy — he cried a little. I swear. I’d never seen him do such a thing.”

Elizabeth had seen him cry and wipe his eyes. It was…surprising. It filled her with something, strong and strange.

“I had so much fun…”

Elizabeth grinned at her sunnily beaming friend. Georgiana was really adorable, with her long neck and coltish pose. She looked so young, despite having a child and twenty years of age. Her eyes brimmed with enthusiasm.

The two children finished the round of backgammon, Anne winning. They begged permission to open the chests of toys across the room. The women smiled and shooed the children off.

“I felt odd, almost like I was in a dream, to be part of a dinner party. It is my fault Fitzwilliam never entertains.”

“He told me directly yesterday that he does not enjoy parties.”

“Did he? I…I can barely remember before…Wickham. He opened the house oftener. Last night was great fun, so he must wish to entertain more often.”

He had enjoyed it last night. When she hosted entertainments for him at Pemberley, she would arrange matters so that he could have sufficient solitude to still enjoy his evening.

That deuced ridiculous notion again. Darcy and she would not marry.

Marry? Ha! No, she did not want to marry him. Him? She definitely did not. “Mr. Darcy chose not to entertain more. His failings are his own. Every one of us has failings enough to feel poorly about without addition.”

“Not you.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I have failings enough — I refuse to feel poorly about them.”

“Why have you never married?”

Elizabeth blinked at the question. “Do not imply that is a fault!”

“Oops.” Georgiana looked down and studied Anne and Bennet, who were engaged in some negotiation involving a wooden soldier Anne held, and a painted pink wooden pony, with a strand of real horsehair for the mane and tail that Bennet held. “I see where your joke came from — I am only curious.”

“You speak as if it is my choice. A man must ask.”

Georgiana had a superb skeptical look.

“I have, I confess, had suitors.” Elizabeth smiled widely. She could convince him to ask. Elizabeth added in an airy voice, “A fair few, admirers ardent. Alas, none who I wished to wed.”

Georgiana rolled her eyes. “You must have had rich and handsome men after your hand.”

“Handsome men, I have had a few.” Elizabeth winked. “And one or two with wealth. Alas, ‘twas my misfortune that those with wealth had not looks.”

“I do not believe you.” Georgiana laughed. “There must have been some suitor both eligible and handsome. You have a sufficient dowry, and you are so pretty.”

“Flatterer.”

“Anyone can see it.” Georgiana blushed. “My brother sees it.”

Mr. Darcy thought her very pretty? She knew he did. But somehow Georgiana noticing that he noticed her… something twisted in Elizabeth’s guts. Like a kitten chasing butterflies in her stomach.

Bennet and Anne ran up, with Bennet lifting his arms for Elizabeth to pick him up. “Look what Anne brought!” He held up a beautifully carved horse. “I want one like it too. Tell Mama for me.”

Elizabeth laughed.

Anne said in an eager voice, “Uncle Will gave it! He can! He can get one for Bennet.”

Elizabeth kissed her nephew seating on her lap. “Mr. Darcy would be happy to acquire such a toy for you.”

Elizabeth looked at Georgiana. “The wrong man is worse than not marrying at all. I demand to be seen as an equal and never expected to act contrary to what I wish due to my husband’s whim or will. A hopeless matter. I expect too much.”

“No, no! — You shall find such love! I know! But, Lizzy, you are so clever, you dress so smartly; you are always lovely. Men always watch at you and stare as you speak.”

Elizabeth thought of the girl’s brother. Her heart pounded, her face flushed. She saw Darcy looking at her.

“You have! You have had a suitor you liked very much indeed!”

“Is that such a surprise? Men are handsome as a sex. Their best excuse for their ample failings.”

Georgiana giggled. “My brother is not so bad.”

“Nay, he is the worst.”

“Tell me! Tell me about this man.”

“I shall not.”

“Please…as friends? What happened to him?”

“I do not know. Not every story is over. I doubt I could make this man happy.”

“You should marry him! You deserve to be happy. You could make anyone happy.” Was there something meaningful in Georgiana’s look? As though she thought Elizabeth was thinking of her brother.

Elizabeth exclaimed. “Enough of me! ‘Tis your turn to be teased. What suitors have you had?”

“Me! I could have none.”

“Ridiculous.”

“Lizzy! Everyone knows.” Georgiana gestured at Anne, who was happily trotting the wooden horse while Bennet kept a soldier seated upon it.

“Fiddle. Most women with a child like yours marry sooner or later.”

“What do you mean? I am a stain upon the family honor; I was probably switched at birth with a peasant girl who—”

Elizabeth laughed. “Switched at birth! How absurd. Who said that.”

“My Aunt, Lady Catherine, said so, and she ”

“Lady Catherine! Of course. You don’t believe her.”

“Well…no.” Georgiana smiled at Elizabeth's amusement.

“I can hear that old monster saying that in my head. She has a way about her — a memorable voice.”

“You know Lady Catherine?”

“My dearest friend married her parson — he is her ladyship’s greatest admirer. Charlotte is content, nonetheless.”

“Does…does Lady Catherine ever mention me?”

“In deep hushed tones filled with bottomless wells of eternal regret. But that is rare. She thinks the less said of the great scandal, the better — she knows you were not switched at birth — I understand she had a scheme to marry poor Anne—”

Little Anne piped up from where she played with Bennet, “Me! Marry who? Who? Who?”

Georgiana ruffled her daughter’s hair. “We were talking about my cousin, Miss de Bourgh. You have not met her.”

“She has my name? I want to meet her!”

“You both were named after my mother, who is in heaven now.”

The seriousness of this observation quieted the little girl. She exclaimed to Bennet, “My turn to pick. Draw with crayons!”

“Yay! Crayons!”

The two children went to the box where such supplies were kept, and rather messily pulled out the supplies and thick paper given to the children.

“Lady Catherine demanded Fitzwilliam expel me, and she cut the relationship when he would not. The family was fractured, but Fitzwilliam will do anything for me.”

An infatuated part of Elizabeth’s mind swooned with Georgiana. How sweet of Fitzwilliam…errr Mr. Darcy…to give up so much for his dear sister!

Elizabeth voiced her other thought. “Ha. The entire matter was worth it because he could cut relations with Lady Catherine. Being forced to visit with her regularly is a matter of nightmares — I jest not, I had one about her once — ‘tis alone sufficient reason for me to be happy I refused Mr. Collins.”

“Mr. Collins?”

“Your aunt’s parson. He is my father’s heir also, so almost rich.”

“Oh. He then married your dearest friend?”

“Rare poor judgement on her part. I have come to accept no woman is perfect. Even I err. Rarely.”

“No! Not you!” Georgiana laughed.

“You are distracting the topic. Has anyone caught your eye since Wickham?”

“No one would marry me. It is a hopeless thing to wish for.”

“Do you wish for it?”

Georgiana looked down. “I do not wish to marry a man who only wishes to have my fortune.”

“You have an insultingly low opinion of yourself if you think that is the only reason a man would wish to marry you.”

“I…perhaps. You are right so often.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Do not think me wiser than I am. Even if you did not set your cap for him, some handsome creature must have caught your eye.”

Georgiana blushed.

“Aha! There was.”

“He could not have liked me…”

“Are you sure? Men like the look of you. You just do not notice.”

“I cannot remember.” Georgiana blushed, and she lowered her voice. “Near the time I had Anne, the steward’s assistant. He was kind to me, and he explained everything about the workings of the estate that I was too frightened to ask Fitzwilliam — I had been so curious. We were friends. But then he left.”

“Ah! The handsome steward’s boy. You are still a gentlewoman — I would look elsewhere.”

“I know — but…I liked him so much. If he had… Lady Catherine was right this far: I would never stand upon pretensions to being a gentlewoman. He was more than a servant, and extremely clever, and Fitzwilliam was unhappy when he left. Fitzwilliam and the steward had hoped to groom him to take over as the next steward or man of business.”

“That makes this sound a little better.” Elizabeth smiled. “But your brother would wish to see you marry higher than that.”

“He did not make me marry, when I became with child.”

“Mr. Darcy found you a husband?”

“Yes…well, Richard, my cousin, he was my guardian then, but he resigned it when Fitzwilliam refused to make me marry Mr. Carteret. Richard talked Carteret into it. But I…I didn’t want to. I wanted…”

“What did you want?”

Georgiana looked at her hands.

“No matter of reputation is worth tying yourself to a man you do not love or cannot trust. Georgie, I admire you. Had I been fifteen I probably would have followed my guardian’s orders.”

“No, it would not have been — I have still felt guilty, because it would have been easiest for everyone if I married. He was forty and five, and…Fitzwilliam saw my tears. He only asked me if I was wholly sure I did not want to marry. Richard was furious. He had been Fitzwilliam’s closest friend, and since they have barely spoken.”

“Mr. Darcy did not try to make you marry?” Elizabeth asked with some surprise. “Not at all?”

“Not at all. All he needed was to know I wished to remain single.”

“I may have misjudged him.” Her emotion towards Darcy became warm and soft. She had always resisted the attraction she felt for him, because she believed Darcy had too great an expectation of obedience. But that tension in her was dissolving away if he simply listened to Georgiana when she begged him for her to be able to choose. “Most men,” Elizabeth added, “would have done anything to hide the stain on the family name.”

“He is the best brother in the world. I often wondered…if he would have been happier if he had made me to marry. He could have married then.”

“Do not be ridiculous. He adores Anne, and he adores you. He has not married because he is a prickly man who only wants a prickly woman.”

“You have made me realize that.” Georgiana giggled at Elizabeth’s description of her brother. “I am glad you are seeing my brother’s worth.”

“I as well.” Elizabeth smiled freely.