Page 170 of What Change Entails

“You have not.” She pressed her fingers together in her lap. “I am merely… I do not know what I am.”

“Understandable.”

That made her smile despite herself. “Is it?”

“Very. I have spent years not knowing what I am until several hours after the fact.”

She stared at him.

Then he added, “Do not tell Bingley.”

A surprised laugh broke through her tears before they could fall.

Fitzwilliam sat back, relief passing over his face and gone again. “I should have prevented her from presuming upon you long before now.”

“You could not know all of it.”

“I knew enough.”

Georgiana shook her head. “No. You knew what I permitted you to see. I did not know how to object. Sometimes I did not even know I wished to object until Lydia said something dreadful and true.”

“Miss Lydia has a gift for that.”

“She does.” Georgiana twisted one ribbon end around her finger, then forced herself to release it. “I do not wish Miss Bingley to remain at Pemberley indefinitely.”

Fitzwilliam’s face became very still.

The old panic rose. She had said too much. She had been ungrateful. Miss Bingley was Bingley’s sister, a guest, a lady who had known them for years. One did not speak so plainly of guests in one’s brother’s house.

Except it was her house too.

A little.

Enough.

Fitzwilliam leaned forward, resting his forearms upon his knees. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You are not angry?”

“No.”

“She is your friend.”

“She is Bingley’s sister,” he said. “That has allowed more intimacy than was wise.”

Georgiana looked down at her hands. “I used to think she must know best. She spoke with such certainty.”

“Certainty and wisdom are not the same.”

“No.” Georgiana breathed out slowly. “Lydia is certain of many things.”

“She is occasionally correct.”

“That is what makes her dangerous.”

Fitzwilliam’s mouth twitched, but he restrained it for her sake. “What do you wish?”

The question startled her.