Page 41 of What Change Entails

The question came so promptly that Georgiana blinked. “Do?”

“Yes. Obviously, something must be done.” Lydia seized Georgiana’s arm with fresh enthusiasm. “We contrive to push them together.”

“Push them?”

“Not literally. Probably.”

Georgiana found her brother again. If Miss Bingley arrived tomorrow, she would see the same thing Lydia had seen. Perhaps more, because Miss Bingley watched Fitzwilliam with a skill sharpened by years of hope. She would interfere. She would arrange, interrupt, speak, imply, smile. She would place herself beside him and treat Georgiana as a useful possession in a campaign.

Georgiana felt her earlier relief begin slipping away.

Then Lydia, still grass-stained and bright-eyed from nearly being run down, grinned at her; their conspiracy the most natural form of friendship.

Georgiana nodded. “Yes.”

Lydia blinked. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Georgiana repeated, the word gaining strength. “We should help them.”

Lydia’s grin widened. “Excellent.”

Georgiana smoothed her gloves, peeked once more at her brother, and gathered every bit of social courage she possessed. “How do we begin?”

“With an entrance,” Lydia declared. “A very good one.”

Before Georgiana could protest, Lydia looped her arm through hers and stepped out from behind the wall.

Georgiana nearly tripped, partly from her ankle and partly from terror.

Fitzwilliam turned. His expression moved from surprise to alarm as he took in Georgiana’s disordered habit, Lydia’s crooked bonnet, and the improper intimacy of their linked arms.

Georgiana pasted on the brightest smile she could manage. “Brother, I nearly ran down this poor lady with my horse. It was most impolite of me.”

Miss Elizabeth Bennet looked from Georgiana to Lydia, her eyes widening. “Lydia?”

Lydia beamed. “Lizzy! You will be glad to know I am not dead.”

Elizabeth crossed the grass, concern overcoming any other feelings she might have experienced. “What happened?”

“Miss Darcy nearly killed me,” Lydia said cheerfully. “But she apologized so handsomely that I forgive her for the present.”

Fitzwilliam reached Georgiana in three strides. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Georgiana answered quickly.

Lydia pointed toward Georgiana’s boot. “She landed awkwardly.”

Fitzwilliam’s attention fell to the offending appendage.

Georgiana shot Lydia a betrayed expression. “It is a mild twist, and I shall be right in no time.”

Lydia shrugged.

“Georgiana,” her brother said, his voice low enough that she heard the strain in it.

“It is merely a twist,” she replied. “I dismounted too quickly. Miss Lydia bore the greater danger.”

“I bore it nobly,” Lydia added.