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Everything he had thought he knew about class and the order of things was wrong. Upon serious reflection, no other conclusion was possible.

Darcy sat in the parlour, having been lured there with the plea that he listen to a new piece Georgiana had been practising for days.

He had specially picked out the piece for her after visiting a shop in London and hearing the proprietor play a portion of it on his pianoforte.

Georgiana’s rendition was enchanting — or at least, he assumed it must be.

Darcy could not seem to concentrate for more than a few notes.

The portrait of his grandfather seemed to mock him, staring down at him with his serious, furrowed brow. If he could have heard Darcy’s private thoughts, and how they had been changing over the last few weeks, he would have been rolling over in his grave. Doubtless his father would have as well.

His father, the best of men, had intended to give him good principles.

He had spoken of duty and responsibility, integrity and the virtues of hard work.

Darcy liked to think he had taken those lessons to heart.

But his father had also spoken of the family’s honour and status, of the great Darcy name and how proud he ought to be of it — and these lessons, Darcy rather feared he had given only too much weight.

His wealth and consequence could not excuse insulting a friend as he had insulted Bingley.

And if a woman — if a person — was blessed with humour and intelligence, beauty and grace, such blessings could not be made less valuable by the want of connections.

Surely, one’s mind and spirit counted for more than wealth and social status.

Grimacing, Darcy acknowledged the obvious: he could not get Elizabeth out of his mind.

Clearly, he did not actually care about marrying for status, as he had argued with Bingley back in Netherfield.

Indeed, he had held hopes that Georgiana would someday marry Bingley, and he had never felt any qualms about his friend’s background.

He turned away from the portrait of his grandfather.

What could be done? If he returned to Netherfield, he could not blame Bingley if he refused to receive him.

And that would be more painful than not trying and never knowing.

But he was driving himself to distraction in this big house, having much too much time on his hands for private reflection.

“You have not listened to the piece at all, have you?” Georgiana said from the pianoforte, drawing him suddenly from his reveries.

Darcy snapped his head up and gave her an apologetic smile. “Forgive me, Georgiana. Would you mind terribly playing it again?” he asked.

Georgiana got up from the piano stool and joined him in the sun-filled sitting area of the parlour.

Darcy looked at her with approval: she was so elegant, particular for one so young.

She sat down beside him in one of the chairs facing the garden and looked out over the greening landscape.

They had had some unusually warm weather as of late, but it had done nothing to cure Darcy’s restlessness.

Georgiana sighed. “I will play it again, under one condition.”

“Anything,” Darcy vowed.

“Tell me what is troubling you, for it is obvious something is wrong.”

Darcy looked at her ruefully. “You have noticed, then.”

“It would have been difficult not to notice,” Georgiana replied.

“Are you worried for Mr Bingley? There has not been a single letter from him since you returned. He is not a diligent correspondent, to be sure, but neither have you written to him. Did he anger you somehow? I am sure he did not mean it, for I know he respects you greatly.”

“No,” Darcy said painfully. “No, he did not anger me. Quite the reverse, I am afraid.”

“Then tell me what is wrong, brother! I wish to help, if I can,” Georgiana said. She lifted her chin, looking more grown-up than he cared to admit. “I am not a child anymore.”

“This, I know,” Darcy replied. He sighed, slouching in his chair as he would never do with anyone else, not even Bingley.

“I am afraid I insulted Bingley. There is a young woman he had grown quite attached to — the daughter of a landed gentleman. I had no objections to the lady herself, but she has almost no dowry, and her family’s behaviour was sometimes less than genteel.

” He drew a steadying breath before he plunged ahead and admitted his guilt.

“I cautioned him about pursuing her, saying that it would hurt his social standing. It was never my intention —” he hurried on, but halted at the last second.

“It does not matter now what my intentions were. I know I hurt him. Bingley took my words to imply judgement of himself, and contempt for his own background. The conversation grew heated, and we had a disagreement about the family in question, and how appropriate an association with them would be.”

“I have never known you to be prejudiced,” Georgiana said with a slight frown.

“I know. I think I was perhaps trying to talk myself out of an association with the family in question, out of loyalty to father. He would not have countenanced such a connection.”

“Ah,” Georgiana said, with a decisive nod. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Darcy looked at her in astonishment. “How on earth did you know?”

Georgiana smiled at him. “Your letters were full of her. I have never known you to write so much of a lady, or to sound so enchanted.” Suddenly, her expression grew sombre. “But the connection must be a highly unsuitable one, if you would advise your friend against her sister.”

“Since that conversation, I have come to think rather differently. The family is lacking in connections, but that need not mean anything if Bingley does not wish it to. The more serious concern is that of her family’s want of propriety, but I am afraid I failed badly to convey my meaning.

I am ashamed of myself, now, for what I said to Bingley.

He asked if I looked at him with contempt, since he is only the son of a merchant.

Of course, I did not mean it in such a light, but I can understand why he took it that way.

” Darcy looked at his sister with a remorseful gaze.

“I have made a blundering idiot of myself, and I am not sure how to make amends.”

Georgiana nodded. “Well, that certainly makes me feel better.”

Darcy raised a brow, straightening in his chair.

“I beg your pardon?” The reaction was most unlike his gentle little sister.

He had expected her to be astonished, had braced himself to bear her disappointment in learning that he had been guilty of such a misstep — but this?

Why on earth would she find satisfaction in his misery?

Georgiana folded her hands and turned to him with a piercing gaze.

“You know I have always looked up to you. And as I said before, you are always so controlled, so steady. You never seem to do anything wrong.” She hung her head.

“It makes me think that if you can make a mistake, perhaps there is hope for me as well. My sins are so much worse than yours, and I am sure that Mr Bingley will forgive you. He is not one to hold a grudge.”

“Well, that certainly is not the persona I have been trying to portray. I am not perfect.” Darcy blinked.

“Have you been thinking all this time that I was looking down on you for the mistake you made?” he asked.

“Indeed, I attribute all blame to Wickham — not you.” Darcy shifted uneasily.

He had never wanted Georgiana to believe that he held her responsible.

But what if his superior air had made his sister’s road to recovery after the Wickham incident even more fraught with guilt and hardship?

She shook her head. “You never made me feel as if I was unworthy of forgiveness. I know you love me, but —” she stopped, the threat of tears choking her. “It is one thing for another to forgive one for their wrongdoings. It is completely another to forgive oneself.”

Georgiana did not give him a chance to answer, but quickly stood and went out into the garden.

He followed her to the window, watching her walk along the paths, no doubt taking solace from the nearness of growing things.

How could he have been so blind? Not only had his sister had to deal with the repercussions of what would have been a dreadful marriage, but he had not helped matters with his reticence.

Perhaps it was his fault that she was so slow to heal.

He stood there, all but unmoving, until Georgiana returned to the house and entered the parlour with renewed fire in her eyes. Thankfully, tea had just been delivered. With luck, it would give them both the chance to talk. “Can I pour you some tea?” he asked.

“No, I will pour,” she said as she sat down. “Brother, I have had an idea. And I do hope you will think about it before you say no.”

He was surprised by her excitement. “You know I can deny you nothing, Georgiana.”

She smiled weakly at this. “Well, perhaps you would like to hear this request before you say so.” She took a steadying breath and plunged ahead. “I should like to go to London for the Season,” she said simply. Georgiana seemed to hold her breath as she waited for him to answer.

Her request was wholly unexpected, but not outlandish.

Darcy sat back and considered. It showed considerable bravery to make such a request, especially after her experience with the perfidious Wickham.

But he was greatly encouraged by the suggestion.

“I did not know you were inclined to go to Town. Why have you never said anything before?” he asked, curious.

“I am not opposed to the idea, mind you. I only wonder at your apparent change of heart.”

She looked down at her clasped hands. “I should like to experience Town, perhaps to make some new friends. And I would hope that you might see Mr Bingley there, and perhaps have a chance to apologise,” she added with a softness that alluded to her deep sense of compassion.

“I would so hate to see the two of you break from each other’s friendship forever, when a simple apology might bridge the gap. ”

Darcy nodded. “You are wise beyond your years, Georgiana,” he said. “I have to ask, would you really enjoy yourself? Or are you simply asking for the sake of my friendship with Bingley? It is by no means certain that Bingley will be in Town, you know.”

“The motive is immaterial. Besides, it is high time I got to experience Town. I suppose I shall have to subject myself to it someday, and I would rather see it from afar before I am brought out and thrust upon society in full-fledged chaos.”

This description made him chuckle. “It is not as bad as all that. I am sure, after a little while, you will find it quite diverting. And there are a plethora of young ladies with which you might build a genuine friendship.”

Georgiana smiled a little wistfully. “I should like to make some friends.”

He wanted that for his little sister. She had been too cloistered of late. He thought for a few more moments before deciding. “Very well, we shall go then. If you are sure.”

“I am,” she said with a brilliant smile. However, the smile was short-lived. Her eyes filled with tears. “Do you think Mama and Papa would have been as disappointed in me as you were?”

He sucked in a breath. “Disappointed?”

“Yes. I sometimes think about the day you found Mr Wickham and me in Ramsgate. I do not think I shall ever forget how red your face was as you entered that little rented room, or how you roared when you saw me.” She looked down, ashamed.

“I never knew mama, but I hate to think that I would have caused her any more pain than the death she suffered at giving me life.”

Darcy stood and went to her, clasping her hands tightly.

“Listen to me,” he said firmly. “I do not want you to carry this guilt any longer. If our mother and father could see you now, they would be so very proud of you. I only wish father could have seen sooner what Wickham was becoming. He did not believe that someone could be so devoid of honour…” Darcy sighed.

He had always been so careful not to malign their father in front of Georgiana.

She had been so young when he died. All she had were her memories of him, and she had none of their mother.

He looked back up at her, trying with difficulty to keep his own emotions under control.

“I am not disappointed in you. And neither would they be. I am only glad you are safe and well away from that wretched man who thought to use you.”

“But I do not deserve your forgiveness,” she choked.

“That is too bad, for I have already given it.” He touched her cheek with brotherly affection. “I am sorry I ever made you feel as if you needed to earn it. You know how reticent I can be. But it was never because of you or the incident.”

She let out a short laugh and wiped at her tears. “Well, thank you for that.” She sighed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to keep any more tears from falling to her cheeks. “You know, I feel so much lighter.”

Georgiana stood and smoothed down her dress, as if to wipe away the dust of the past that had clung to her for so long. “When shall we depart for London?”

They made plans to depart three days hence, and when Georgiana had finished her tea and withdrew to start packing, he sat alone in his study, looking out the window.

What if Bingley decided not to come to Town for the Season?

He was sure Caroline Bingley would drive him to distraction until he agreed to go, but with everything that had happened, and his growing affection for Miss Jane Bennet, he was unsure if she could convince him.

Even if not, the trip would not be a total loss.

Georgiana would get the experience she needed to prepare her for her own coming out in a few years, and he might very well be able to make amends with Bingley.

If his friend decided to stay at Netherfield, he could seek him there.

Georgiana might enjoy a chance to see the pretty countryside around Meryton.

Unbidden, Elizabeth appeared in his mind’s eye. Darcy would have to hope Bingley was in London after all, for to return to Netherfield would present an almost irresistible temptation.