Page 39 of Attempted Compromises
With a shy nod, Georgiana took her place beside Elizabeth. Together, they began to play, their hands moving across the keys in harmony. Laughter bubbled up as they missed notes or misaligned rhythms, but the joy of the moment carried them through.
The room filled with music and mirth, and Elizabeth felt an increased fondness for the timid young woman, whose shyness seemed to melt away with each passing note.
∞∞∞
Darcy had been making his way down the corridor when the sound of music and merriment caught his attention. Georgiana’s playing was unmistakable, but the laughter… That belonged to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Pausing outside the music room, he leaned against the wall and listened. Music poured through the door, interspersed with laughter. Curious, he stepped closer and peered inside.
The sight stopped him.
Elizabeth was seated at the piano beside Georgiana, her fingers moving clumsily over the keys. Georgiana laughed as Elizabeth made a dramatic face, clearly feigning frustration at a missednote. The two of them were engrossed in their duet, their laughter mingling with the music.
Darcy leaned against the door frame, his forehead resting on the cool wood. It was as if all of Georgiana’s heartache from that summer had melted away, along with her reticence.
And it was Elizabeth Bennet who had drawn it out of her.
Elizabeth, he thought, the name nearly coming off his lips.
She was unlike anyone he had ever met. Her wit, her warmth, her ability to connect with others—all of it captivated him. Watching her now, so at ease with his sister, filled him with a sense of gratitude and admiration.
Mrs. Annesley noticed him at the doorway and began to rise, but Darcy shook his head slightly, signaling her to remain quiet.
He lingered, watching as Elizabeth and Georgiana navigated their duet with a mix of skill and humor. Elizabeth, ever expressive, pulled faces when she hit a wrong note, prompting more laughter from Georgiana. It was a scene of unguarded delight, and Darcy found himself utterly captivated.
His gaze shifted to Elizabeth, her hair slightly disheveled from her exuberance, her cheeks flushed with warmth. There was a light in her eyes that seemed to illuminate the entire room.
She is extraordinary,he thought, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar sensation.
As the music swelled and Elizabeth burst into laughter once again, Darcy found himself grappling with emotions he could no longer deny.
Elizabeth’s kindness and wit had drawn his admiration since they first met, but seeing her here—so effortlessly bringing out the best in his sister—stirred something deeper. She was more than a lively conversationalist or clever mind. She was compassionate, unpretentious, and utterly unique.
Could this be love? Am I falling in love with her?
The question lodged itself in his mind, unsettling and yet oddly comforting. Elizabeth was far removed from the expectations of his station, her family connections unsuitable by societal standards.
Yet none of that seemed to matter.
He remained at the door for a moment longer, reluctant to disturb the scene, his thoughts swirling as he watched the two women share a moment of pure happiness. Elizabeth’s laughter echoed in his ears, and he knew, with a clarity he could not ignore, that his feelings for her went far deeper than admiration.
He turned away at last, retreating down the hall, but the image of Elizabeth’s smile lingered in his mind. For the first time, he allowed himself to consider the possibility of what it might mean to truly love her—and what he might be willing to do about it.
∞∞∞
The household gathered in the expansive foyer of Netherfield, its high ceilings trapping the warmth from the large fireplacebut failing to quell the chill of impending goodbyes. Footmen bustled about, ensuring every detail of the departure was attended to. The Bennet sisters’ cloaks hung ready, their luggage already loaded into the carriage waiting just beyond the front door.
Jane, her complexion now nearly back to its usual healthy bloom, stood beside Mr. Bingley, who seemed utterly absorbed in her every word. His hand lingered on the back of a nearby chair, his knuckles whitening as though he needed to ground himself against the reality of her imminent departure. Jane, for her part, smiled gently, the very picture of gratitude and decorum, though her eyes betrayed a lingering fatigue.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, stood slightly apart, her gaze alternating between Jane and the room’s other occupants. Mr. Darcy and Georgiana stood to one side, the former composed as ever, though his gaze lingered on Elizabeth more often than she noticed. Georgiana, though shy, had ventured a few murmured words of well wishes earlier and now clung to her brother’s arm with an air of quiet solemnity.
Miss Bingley hovered nearby, her smile brittle, her words clipped whenever she interjected. Her displeasure at the length of her brother’s farewell was evident to anyone paying attention, though no one openly remarked upon it.
As the farewells began in earnest, a maid entered the foyer, curtsied, and approached Darcy. “Mr. Darcy, sir, Rebecca sent me to ask if Master Andrew might come to say goodbye. He has been asking for the ‘nice lady,’ sir.”
Elizabeth blinked, her expression softening at the mention of the little boy. Darcy turned toward her, his gaze searching. “Would that be acceptable to you, Miss Elizabeth?” he asked, his tone low and respectful.
Elizabeth nodded immediately, a warm smile spreading across her face. “Of course, Mr. Darcy. I would be delighted to see him.”
