Page 34 of Saved By Mr. Darcy
He looked at his watch; there was still another hour until dinner, and he knew that Miss Elizabeth slept at this time of day. He rose from his chair and walked to the parlour, the music guiding him. It was a pretty little tune, light and full of joy. A new piece, for he did not recognise it. Georgiana played so often that he knew her repertoire almost as well as she did.
When he entered the room, it was not his sister playing at all. Instead, Elizabeth sat at the piano in her wheeled chair, happily playing. Georgiana sat by her side turning the pages, grinning broadly as the pair both stared at the music. Darcy stood in the doorway, unable to tear his eyes from the happy scene.
Miss Elizabeth’s eyes did not stray from her playing, but Georgiana glanced up. She saw him immediately, but saidnothing. Instead, she just smiled broadly before returning her concentration to the task at hand. The song increased in tempo, coming to a cheery conclusion.
He clapped softly, and Miss Elizabeth’s head snapped up. Her lips broke into a wide grin, a breath of laughter escaping her.
“Mr Darcy! I did not know I had an audience.”
“You were right, brother. She is a fine musician.”
“I am sure that I am not!” Miss Elizabeth laughed. “I cannot even use the pedals! Oh, I never thought I would miss the piano. I am glad to play again. Miss Georgiana, would you move me? I am tired, and should like to hear you play. I shall only get in your way.”
Darcy stepped into the room, moving over to the piano so quickly that Georgiana had not even had time to stand up. She looked at him quizzically, though moved out of his way so that he might move Miss Elizabeth.
“Where?”
“By the settee, I think. Thank you for your care, Mr Darcy.”
He nodded stiffly, pushing her to where she had asked. He found himself sinking onto the settee beside her. He was too close to be proper, though protected by the fact they were not sitting on the same chair. It could be explained away as staying close should she need his assistance. His head was swimming with the scent of her; a rosewater he had provided for her as an attempt to recreate any comforts she might have lost in the accident.
Georgiana began to play a more sombre tune than Miss Elizabeth had chosen, and Darcy allowed his gaze to drift to the woman beside him – as though he had ever been able to lookat anyone else when in her presence. She was smiling as she watched Georgiana play, her cheeks pink with colour. She had regained her usual complexion as her recovery progressed, her skin losing the grey pallor that had come with her pain. Her hair was pinned back, though it longed to tumble free of its restraints. Her neck was exposed, the long line tempting to him in a way he had never known. He wondered if she would like to be kissed there once again, for he longed to kiss her everywhere.
She turned her head slightly, and he averted his eyes. He was half-crazed with longing, losing all sense of what was right and what was wrong. He had almost begged her for what he dreamed of, a desperate man. He dared to hope that her mind may have been changed, that her affection towards him might have grown with the familiarity they had formed in her time here…
And then, for the briefest moment, he felt her fingers brushing his. His hand rested on the arm of the chair, and he looked down believing the sensation to be a dream. No, there were her fingers, delicate and smooth, just daring to brush over the rise of his knuckles. She snatched her hand away, quickly settling both hands in her lap. Her face did not waver, that same pleasant smile fixed on her face, her eyes settled firmly on his sister. She showed no signs of what had just happened, and yet he felt moved to his very core.
They sat in silence as his sister continued her piece, and he could not resist darting his eyes to Miss Elizabeth every few seconds. She barely seemed real; she had changed so much in the three weeks she had been here, her recovery blessedly smooth. She grew stronger each day, and he thanked God for it in his prayers.
“Brava!” Miss Elizabeth called out, clapping her hands together. “Your brother certainly did not overestimate your talent. Nor Miss Caroline Bingley, who spoke of you often.”
“Did she?” Georgiana asked in surprise. “I do not believe I know her well enough to speak of her. What did she say about me?!”
Miss Elizabeth smiled, the amusement on her face poorly hidden.
“She admires you.”
“I wish she would not!”
“Georgiana,” Darcy said warningly, but there was little weight to his voice.
“I am very tired,” Miss Elizabeth said, a yawn punctuating her sentence. “I will retire. I must thank you both for such a wonderful day. I feel invigorated. Where shall we go tomorrow, dear Georgiana?”
He rose from his chair, standing beside her. She looked up at him, and he felt himself warm under her gaze. He stared down at her, entranced by her beauty. She had never looked so beautiful, her curls tumbling out of the arrangement they were supposed to be in, her cheeks flush with good health and merriment.
“Fitzwilliam, we must take Lizzy…”
“Miss Elizabeth,” he corrected at once, snapped out of his stupor.
“Lizzy, she asked that I call her Lizzy! And she must call me Georgiana. I feel like we are sisters already!”
Darcy and Miss Elizabeth looked at each other. Her expression was one of careful neutrality, her lips curved in only the slightest of smiles. He thought it impossible for her not to smile; even in her sleep, her lips seemed to quirk naturally upwards. As forhis own countenance, he was not sure how he appeared, for suppressing his true emotion felt impossible in this moment.
“You are as dear to me as any sister, Georgiana,” Miss Elizabeth said, her gaze fixed on his sister once more. “If you will excuse me.”
“Let me assist you.”
“Thank you, Mr Darcy. Goodnight, Georgiana.”
