Page 8 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)
Chapter Four
Elizabeth paused in the doorway of the music room, unwilling to interrupt the scene before her.
Georgiana sat at the pianoforte, her fingers moving gracefully over the keys as she played a lively sonata, while Kitty turned the pages with careful attention.
Most surprising of all was Anne, perched on the edge of a nearby chair, her customary pallor brightened by two spots of colour in her cheeks as she listened with evident pleasure, occasionally uttering a soft word of praise when Georgiana completed a particularly difficult passage.
The transformation in all three young women over the past fortnight had been remarkable.
Georgiana, though still reserved by nature, had shed much of her initial shyness in the company of her new companions.
Kitty had surprised everyone with her rapid adaptation to the more refined atmosphere of Darcy House, her natural exuberance tempered by a growing awareness of proper decorum.
And Anne, perhaps most remarkably of all, had begun to emerge from her shell of enforced invalidism, revealing glimpses of intelligence and sensitivity that had clearly been suppressed under her mother’s domineering care.
As Georgiana reached the end of the piece, Kitty burst into enthusiastic applause, with Anne following suit more sedately but with genuine appreciation.
“Oh, that was splendid, Georgiana!” Kitty exclaimed. “I shall never play half so well, even if I practice for a hundred years.”
“You have improved remarkably since Christmas,” Georgiana replied with gentle encouragement. “And you have a natural ear for melody that I quite envy.”
“But not the patience for all those repetitive exercises,” Kitty admitted with a rueful laugh. “I would much rather play a simple country dance than struggle through scales for hours on end.”
“There is nothing wrong with country dances,” Anne ventured softly. “They have a liveliness that more formal pieces sometimes lack.”
Kitty beamed at this unexpected support. “Exactly! Though I suppose at the grand events this Season, we shall be expected to perform more sophisticated music.”
“I doubt anyone will ask you to play in public until you have been properly introduced,” Georgiana reassured her. “And even then, it is considered quite acceptable to decline if you do not feel comfortable performing.”
“Is it really?” Kitty asked, wide-eyed. “I thought ladies were supposed to display their accomplishments whenever requested.”
“That is what my mother always says,” Anne murmured, a shadow crossing her features. “Though she also insists that I never accept such invitations, as the exertion of performing in public would be too taxing for my ‘delicate constitution.’ Not that I know how to play anyway.”
There was a hint of something like rebellion in Anne’s tone that Elizabeth found both surprising and encouraging. Before she could consider it further, Georgiana had closed her music book and turned on the piano stool to face her companions.
“Are you very nervous about the Season?” she asked, addressing both Kitty and Anne. “I find myself quite terrified at the prospect of all those strangers watching and judging.”
“I am positively dying of excitement!” Kitty declared, bouncing slightly in her seat before recollecting herself and assuming a more composed posture. “Though I confess I do worry about saying the wrong thing or making some terrible mistake in the quadrille.”
“I have been practising the steps every day,” Georgiana confessed. “I have had dreams where I forget everything the moment I step onto a dance floor and I could not bear it if that actually happened!”
“Mrs. Jenkinson says I am to limit myself to three dances per evening at most,” Anne said quietly. “And then only with the most sedate of partners. She has even written out a list of acceptable gentlemen, ranked in order of preference.”
Kitty’s eyes widened. “Ranked? Based on what?”
“Title, fortune, and influence,” Anne replied with a wry twist of her lips that Elizabeth had never observed before. “In that order, naturally.”
“But what of character?” Georgiana asked, genuinely perplexed. “Surely that must be considered when selecting a dance partner?”
“Or even simple things like whether he has two left feet or breath like a tavern-keeper,” Kitty added with a giggle. “Lydia once danced with a militia officer who trod on her toes so badly she had to soak them in salt water afterward!”
“Mrs. Jenkinson believes such considerations to be frivolous,” Anne said. “She insists that a gentleman’s rank and fortune are far more important than whether his conversation is agreeable or his manners pleasant.”
“That sounds dreadfully dull,” Kitty declared with characteristic bluntness. “What does it matter if a man is a duke if he bores you to tears or treats you unkindly?”
“My mother would say that a duchess is never bored, merely insufficiently aware of her dignity,” Anne replied, and to Elizabeth’s amazement, there was a definite note of humour in her voice.
The three girls laughed together, and Elizabeth marvelled at the scene.
Who would have imagined shy Georgiana, flighty Kitty, and repressed Anne finding common ground and genuine friendship?
Yet here they were, united by the shared experience of anticipating their first Season and the natural anxiety that accompanied it.
“Have you read that new book everyone is talking about?” Kitty asked suddenly, changing the subject with her usual impulsivity. “The one about the castle in Scotland and the betrayed wife?”
Georgiana shook her head. “I do not believe my brother would approve of such reading material. He prefers that I confine myself to more improving works.”
“My mother says novels rot the mind,” Anne offered softly.
“Though I did manage to read Evelina last winter when both she and Mrs. Jenkinson were confined to their rooms with a chill. Mother believes such books are frivolous, but I persuaded Mrs. Collins to lend me her copy on the promise I would not mention it.”
“Was it very exciting?” Kitty asked eagerly. “I have not read it, but I heard it contains a most romantic hero.”
“It was... enlightening,” Anne replied, her expression thoughtful.
“Evelina herself was so unprepared for the world, so unsure of her place in it. And yet she remained kind and good, even as she faced such trials. I could not help but admire her courage. But the people around her…” Anne hesitated, her voice growing softer.
“They were so unkind, so false. It made me wonder if I, too, have been blind to the cruelty that can lurk beneath polite smiles.”
There was a wistfulness in Anne’s tone that made Elizabeth’s heart ache. How narrow and isolated Anne’s life must have been, to find such revelations in a novel; truths that others might have observed in life itself.
“Perhaps we might read some novels together,” Georgiana suggested gently. “I am sure there will be several respectable choices available in our library.”
“I have some in my room,” Kitty confessed with a conspiratorial grin. “My father gave them to me before we left Longbourn, saying that a little secret reading never harmed a sensible girl, and that I have shown enough improvement in my judgment to be trusted with novels.”
Elizabeth, deciding it was time to make her presence known, stepped into the room. “Indeed, and I believe my father’s judgment in this matter is perfectly sound. Good afternoon, ladies. I hope I am not interrupting?”
The three young women turned toward her with varying degrees of surprise and welcome.
Kitty immediately made room for her on the sofa, while Georgiana smiled her gentle greeting.
Anne, however, seemed to retreat slightly into herself, as though embarrassed to have been caught in a moment of animation.
“Not at all,” Georgiana assured her. “We were just discussing music and... literature.”
“So I heard,” Elizabeth replied with a smile, taking the seat beside Kitty. “And I must say I quite agree with my father. A well-written novel can be both entertaining and instructive, provided one approaches it with a discerning mind.”
“Truly?” Anne asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Absolutely,” Elizabeth confirmed. “In fact, I have several volumes in my personal library that I would be happy to share.”
“Anne was just telling us about Evelina, “ Kitty explained. “It sounds most intriguing.”
“It is indeed,” Elizabeth agreed. “Frances Burney’s insight into human nature is remarkable.
Imagine the courage it took to write so honestly about society’s flaws, especially as a woman.
I have her later work Camilla; perhaps we might read it aloud together in the evenings, as a shared entertainment. ”
Anne’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. It was a small change, but to Elizabeth, it seemed as though a seed of hope had taken root in the young woman’s heart.
The conversation continued pleasantly for some minutes, with Georgiana eventually returning to the pianoforte to practice a new piece while Kitty offered enthusiastic if not entirely accurate suggestions about tempo and expression.
Anne remained quiet but attentive, and Elizabeth noted with approval that her posture had relaxed somewhat, her hands no longer clutched so tightly together in her lap.
As the afternoon light began to fade and a maid arrived to light the lamps, Georgiana and Kitty became engrossed in a discussion about the relative merits of different composers. Taking advantage of their distraction, Anne moved hesitantly to sit beside Elizabeth.
“Elizabeth,” she began in a low voice, “might I speak with you privately for a moment?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth replied, surprised but pleased by the request. “Shall we step into the small sitting room across the hall? It should be unoccupied at this hour.”