Page 35 of What Change Entails

Darcy was silent for a moment.

Georgiana fixed her attention on the road ahead, though color touched her cheeks. Then Darcy chuckled. It surprised them both.

Georgiana’s answering smile came freer than any he had seen from her that morning. “It does.”

“I did not contradict you.”

“You laughed.” She sounded perplexed.

“A different form of agreement.” Did he not laugh often enough to set his own sister at ease? No, certainly not since last summer.

She seemed pleased by that and urged her mare a little farther ahead before settling back beside him.

They rode through a village where children stopped beside a gate to watch them pass. One small boy waved. Georgiana raised her hand in return, shy at first, then with more confidence when the boy grinned.

“You look happier already,” Darcy said.

Georgiana adjusted her reins. “Do I?”

“Yes.”

“I think I am.” She peered across the fields. “I like being between places sometimes. No one expects me to perform with propriety while traveling.”

“Do I expect that of you at home?”

“No.” She considered the question longer than he expected. “Not exactly.”

Darcy felt the truth of it instantly. “Then how?”

Georgiana guided her mare around a puddle before replying. “You expect me to be well. That is different.”

Darcy’s throat closed. His attention shifted to the road ahead, where it curved between high hedges. “I have wished you well.”

“I know. That is why I try.”

The hoofbeats continued, steady against the damp road. Darcy had imagined himself protective. Perhaps he had been. Protection, however, could become another room with locked doors if one never asked the person inside whether she wished to leave.

Elizabeth would have said that too.

No. Elizabeth would have said it more sharply, and with justification.

Georgiana tilted her head. “You are thinking of something unpleasant.”

Darcy almost denied it. Then his saw his sister’s face, open and anxious and newly brave after giving him honesty once already that morning, and he chose differently. “I was thinking of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

Georgiana’s eyes widened. “The lady from Hertfordshire?”

“Yes.” He had mentioned her in letters many times.

“Sister to Mr. Bingley’s lady?”

Darcy’s mouth moved despite himself. “I believe Bingley would object to the possessive, though not sincerely.”

Georgiana smiled. “Is she very handsome?”

“Yes.” The answer came before caution could edit it. “But that was never the whole of it.”

His sister studied him with sudden interest.