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“Oh no, her oldest grandchild is older than me. Mrs. Annesley had actually retired – she was my grandmother’s companion, you see, and retired after Grandmama passed four years ago – but after, uh, Ramsgate,” Georgiana glanced sideways at the footmen and lowered her voice, “and Mrs. Younge’s being dismissed, she came out of retirement as a favour to my brother.

I am very grateful to her. She is so kind, and of course I have known her all my life. ”

“Indeed,” Elizabeth agreed, though privately she thought it must be quite difficult for Georgiana, who seemed to have no opportunity to socialize with people of her own age.

No wonder she was so eager to befriend Elizabeth, and had tried hard to do so with Lydia, too.

Privately, Elizabeth resolved to make more opportunities for Georgiana to socialize appropriately, ideally before they went to London for Georgiana’s Season, or the poor girl was likely to feel quite overwhelmed.

Their breakfasts were delivered then, and both applied themselves to their meals, Elizabeth delighted by the smooth creamy chocolate and the deliciously crusty toast, the perfectly coddled eggs with a sprinkle of freshly chopped chives topping them.

“I shall become quite spoiled by Pemberley’s cooks,” she said lightly.

“Dinner last night was magnificent, and this is an exceptionally fine way to start the morning. I regret I have already forgotten their names, but I shall be sure to have Mrs. Reynolds present me to them again so I can issue my praises in person.”

From the corner of her eye, Elizabeth saw one of the footmen look at the other, and smiled secretly to herself. Her words would be delivered by Pemberley’s gossip network long before she had the opportunity to speak to Mrs. Reynolds, she was sure.

Aloud, she said to Georgiana, “I hope you will help me learn all of Pemberley’s secrets. I find myself quite overwhelmed by its grandeur.”

“Would you like to see the music room?” Georgiana offered, since they had finished eating. “Brother acquired a new pianoforte for me which has been delivered, and I have been very eager to try it out, if you would care to join me? I should love to hear you play.”

“I should enjoy that very much,” Elizabeth agreed, relieved to have a direction. “Though I warn you, my playing will seem sadly inferior to you.”

“Brother says you play with great feeling, which is worth more than mere technical skill.”

“Your brother is very kind,” Elizabeth said, “but also somewhat biased in my favour.”

“Because he loves you,” Georgiana stated simply, then blushed at her own forthrightness, fortunately not noticing that Elizabeth's cheeks had turned red too.

The music room was bathed in morning light, the pianoforte gleaming.

As Georgiana sorted through sheets of music, Elizabeth studied her sister-in-law with new eyes.

The shy girl was growing in confidence as she came to know and trust Elizabeth, though she retained a certain delicacy of manner that was entirely charming.

They spent the morning playing duets, any remaining reserve between them melting away through the shared language of music. Elizabeth found Georgiana to be a patient teacher, gently correcting without criticism, genuinely delighted when Elizabeth mastered a difficult passage.

“You are far too modest about your abilities,” Georgiana insisted as they finished a particularly challenging piece. “With a little more practice, you could play quite brilliantly.”

“You are as generous in your assessments as your brother,” Elizabeth laughed. “But I thank you for the encouragement.”

Their morning of music gave way to a walk through Pemberley’s gardens after a light luncheon of soup and fresh salad vegetables.

The May sunshine was warm, coaxing blooms from the carefully tended beds, gardeners jumping to their feet and bowing as the two ladies approached.

Georgiana did not even seem to notice, merely nodding absently, but Elizabeth took the time to smile and greet each man, begging them not to disturb themselves on her account and praising the results of their labours.

Broad grins followed in their wake and she began to feel a little more confident.

If she had to win the staff over one member at a time, that is exactly what she would do.

“I have always loved the gardens in spring and early summer,” Georgiana confided as they strolled along a gravel path between topiaries carefully sculpted into the shapes of animals. “Everything so full of promise.”

“Shall you mind spending next spring in London, for your Season?” Elizabeth inquired, pausing to admire a remarkably shaped fox topiary.

Georgiana’s face clouded slightly. “I confess the prospect rather terrifies me. All those strangers, the expectations...”

“It is rather daunting,” Elizabeth agreed. “Though I suspect you will handle it with far more grace than I would in your position.”

“Oh no,” Georgiana protested. “You are so confident, so at ease in company. I wish I could be more like you.”

Elizabeth was touched by the admission. “My confidence often conceals my own uncertainties,” she admitted.

“And it has led me into error more than once.” She thought of her refusal to conceal her disdain for Wickham once she had learned the truth of his character, which had led Wickham to arrange for them to be caught in an apparently compromising situation.

If Elizabeth was forced to marry him, she would not dare expose his character, had been his logic, and he had caught her very neatly in his trap.

But for his death at Lydia’s hands, she would quite possibly have been forced to go through with the marriage, though Darcy had presented another option, asking Elizabeth to marry him instead.

What a choice she would have had to make, if they had not stumbled on Wickham’s body that day!

Would she have done it, would she have jilted Wickham and married Darcy instead?

She could not quite imagine embroiling herself in a scandal of such magnitude, though given her only other choice would have been becoming Mrs. Wickham…

Elizabeth shook her head. There was no point dwelling on might-have-beens.

She had more than enough to occupy her thoughts with what had actually transpired.

They paused beside a small ornamental pond, watching the play of light on water. Elizabeth sensed Georgiana wanted to say more and waited patiently.

“May I ask you something?” Georgiana finally ventured, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course. Anything.”

“How did you... how did you know you could trust my brother with your heart?” The question came out in a rush. “After you refused him the first time, I mean.”

Elizabeth considered carefully. The question revealed so much of Georgiana’s own fears, undoubtedly influenced by her experience with Wickham.

“I came to see that beneath his reserve lay a man of profound integrity and feeling,” she said slowly.

“He made mistakes, as did I, but when it mattered most, he acted with generosity and without expectation of reward or recognition.”

Georgiana nodded thoughtfully. “I worry sometimes that I might not recognize a good man from a... from one who only appears to be good.”

“Trust your instincts,” Elizabeth advised gently. “And know that you have people who love you and will support you in your choices.”

“Like you,” Georgiana said with a small smile. “I am so glad you are my sister now, Elizabeth. Pemberley has needed a mistress like you.”

The warmth of Georgiana’s acceptance was a balm to Elizabeth’s unsettled spirit. Yet as they returned to the house, she could not help noticing the way conversation among a group of housemaids ceased abruptly as they approached, or how the footman’s eyes slid away from hers as he opened the door.

Was she being overly sensitive, or was there indeed something in their manner that suggested knowledge, or perhaps speculation, about her unusual marital situation?

Later that afternoon, Elizabeth met with Mrs. Reynolds in the mistress’s morning room to have their first discussion on household matters.

The housekeeper was utterly efficient and respectful, yet Elizabeth thought she detected a certain reserve in the older woman’s manner.

Certainly, there was as yet none of the warmth and kindness for Elizabeth that Darcy and Georgiana had spoken of the housekeeper possessing.

“The menu for tomorrow’s dinner looks excellent, Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth said, setting aside the paper. “You anticipate every need.”

“Thank you, madam. I have served at Pemberley for many years.”

“And known Mr. Darcy since he was a boy, I believe you mentioned.”

Mrs. Reynolds’s expression softened. “Indeed, madam. A finer man never walked this earth, lest it was perhaps his father, God rest his soul.”

“I could not agree more,” Elizabeth replied with genuine feeling. “I count myself most fortunate.”

There was a pause, during which Elizabeth sensed the housekeeper weighing her words carefully.

Finally, Mrs. Reynolds spoke, and for the first time, the faintest hint of a smile curved the edges of her mouth. “If I may say so, madam, Mr. Darcy seems happier than I have seen him in years. Your influence has been most beneficial.”

Elizabeth felt a rush of relief at the apparent approval. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. That means a great deal coming from someone who knows him so well.”

As they continued discussing household matters and Mrs. Reynolds enthused over her tentative suggestions, Elizabeth gradually relaxed. Whatever the servants might be whispering, it seemed the housekeeper at least harboured no disapproval of the new Mrs. Darcy.

Her confidence was shaken, however, when she passed the laundry later that day and overheard a fragment of conversation through the half-open door.