For my post today I thought I would return to the tried and true that everyone seems to enjoy–and excerpt! It’s been a while since I’ve posted an excerpt, so here goes.

Only Exceedingly Shy, as the astute among you might have already realized, is a reference to Georgiana Darcy. Jane, having realized that Elizabeth’s observations of the Bingley sisters are correct, convinces Elizabeth to go to London with the Gardiners instead of going herself. While there, Mr. Darcy chances to meet her. As he’s struggling with a way of reaching his sister, who has not yet recovered from the incident with Wickham at Ramsgate, conceives of the idea of introducing her to Elizabeth, hoping Elizabeth’s friendship will help her recover. The rest, as they say, is history.

The excerpt is from chapter 5, and details Elizabeth’s first meeting with Georgiana.

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That Miss Darcy was a shy creature was something Elizabeth determined within moments of Mr. Darcy introducing them. The girl was barely able to summon a whisper in greeting, though she called for tea with credible composure. When they sat together, she held a handkerchief in her hand which she twisted and pulled, and Elizabeth wondered if the inoffensive piece of cloth would survive the experience. Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s eyes, noting him regarding his sister with compassion mixed with a hint of concern, then determined that she must rescue them from a half hour of silence.

“Miss Darcy,” said she, injecting a hint of lightness in her tone, “I am grateful to have made your acquaintance, for I have heard so much about you.”

While the girl was unable to respond except for some monosyllable too soft to hear, her hands stilled for a moment, proving she had heard. It appeared she was listening, for her head turned ever so slightly in Elizabeth’s direction.

“Your brother has spoken of you, of course, and I dare say the praise was not embellished, even for an elder brother of his beloved younger sister.”

“My brother is most kind.”

It was softly spoken but enough for Elizabeth to hear. Though knowing the girl could not see her grin, Elizabeth fixed the girl with it anyway.

“An ideal elder brother, it seems. But I must inform you that he is not the only source of information I have of you.”

This time Miss Darcy’s head turned imperceptibly more toward Elizabeth. While she said nothing, Elizabeth knew she had the girl’s attention.

“Perhaps you have heard, but Mr. Darcy stayed for a time near my home in Hertfordshire with his friends, the Bingleys.”

“Yes,” whispered the girl. “But . . .”

She colored and looked away.

“Mr. Bingley is not your brother’s friend?” asked Elizabeth feigning astonishment. “I had it through excellent sources that they were!”

“No!” said Miss Darcy, this time much louder. She appeared to surprise herself with her outburst, colored and looked down again, but she clarified her statement. “It is . . . Mr. Bingley is my brother’s friend, but . . . I would not say those of Mr. Bingley’s family share an equal measure of his affection.”

“I would say you are correct about that, my dear,” said Mr. Darcy, seemingly pleased his sister had said as much as she did. “Bingley is my friend; his family are naught but acquaintances.”

“Very well,” said Elizabeth, nodding at Mr. Darcy. “Then I shall say that while Mr. Darcy’s friend Mr. Bingley had nothing but praise for you, Miss Bingley, his acquaintance, appeared to believe you are the most accomplished woman in London.”

A slight shaking of Miss Darcy’s head revealed an opinion of Miss Bingley that was akin to Elizabeth’s own. In truth, Elizabeth had not been certain that she could approach the subject of Mr. Bingley, for the simple reason that the man’s sister had set Miss Darcy as Jane’s rival for his affections. It was clear after only a few moments in the girl’s company that she was a rival to no one. Elizabeth doubted she had any ability to consider any man in such a fashion, not with such crippling shyness weighing her down.

“I hope you will forgive me, Miss Darcy,” said Elizabeth, leaning toward the girl slightly, again showing her a smile she could not see. “In such cases as this, I prefer to take my own measure of another and not rely on others’ perceptions. With that said, I hope to come to know you as my friend, and not judge you based on what Miss Bingley or anyone else has said.”

Miss Darcy murmured something Elizabeth took to be an agreement, but her courage of the past few moments appeared to have failed her. Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, noting him watching his sister, though the man readily smiled at her, nodding his thanks for her efforts. Heartened, Elizabeth turned back to the man’s sister.

Encouraged though she was, for several long moments, Miss Darcy’s outburst was the most Elizabeth received from her. The girl was attentive, her hands stilled rather than worrying away at her handkerchief, her head tilted slightly toward Elizabeth. But no matter how much she cajoled, jested, or prompted, the girl did not speak one more syllable than she must, and most of those were inaudible. Mr. Darcy, she noted, watched this all, his expression one of hope mixed with concern for his sister. He did not become angry at her persistent inability to respond; the sight curiously improved Elizabeth’s opinion of the man, for his haughty nature when she had known him might have led her to believe he would not tolerate such behavior. The last thing Miss Darcy needed at that moment was an overbearing brother goading her to act in a way that would bring her further discomfort.

It was more than simple shyness. Oh, Elizabeth was well aware the girl was retiring by nature—that much had been evident the moment she walked into the room. Elizabeth could not help the feeling there was more to it than simply this, for the girl’s spirits were low. As the knowledge of this firmed in her mind, Elizabeth wondered what could have happened to bring her to this state, especially given Mr. Darcy’s offered confidence concerning her recent state. There was little enough reason to speculate, and Elizabeth knew it was none of her business regardless, so she focused on putting the girl at ease and prompting what responses she could muster.

At length, Elizabeth remembered something Miss Bingley had said, and switched to that topic. “I see you have a fine pianoforte, Miss Darcy,” said she, indicating the instrument situated on the far side of a pair of doors. “Do you play, or is your brother the musician in the family?”

Miss Darcy flushed, but she managed a greater response than she had the past ten minutes. “Yes . . . I play, Miss Bennet.”

“And you, Mr. Darcy?” asked Elizabeth, turning to the gentleman. “I must suppose you do not, else Miss Bingley would have praised your skills to the skies.”

Surprising Elizabeth, Miss Darcy’s shoulders twitched, as if in laughter. Mr. Darcy only smiled.

“I play a little, Miss Bennet, for my mother taught me when I was a boy. Yet I found I do not have much aptitude for it—not like Georgiana who is quite talented. I enjoy music, and I am capable of singing, but the pianoforte is not my forte, if you will forgive the pun.”

“I do not know if I can forgive such an awful pun, Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Elizabeth. She regarded him for several long moments and nodded. “Yes, I recall hearing you sing while attending church in Hertfordshire. For now, however, I believe I am more interested in your sister’s talents.”

As Elizabeth turned to the girl, she noted how Miss Darcy looked away at once, noting that the girl had been watching her as she had her attention fixed on Mr. Darcy. “Let us talk of composers, Miss Darcy. Do you have an especial favorite?”

What followed was a conversation less one-sided than the previous had been. While the girl did not become animated, it appeared she was better able to speak of her love of music, for most of her responses were at least clear. Elizabeth learned that Miss Darcy loved Mozart and Haydn and had an especial fondness for Bach. Had Mary not been Elizabeth’s sister, she might never have heard of the man, for he was not at all popular. In this manner, they passed the rest of Elizabeth’s visit, and when the time came for her to depart, she regretted the necessity. This girl badly needed a friend, and there were more than a few tantalizing indications that indicated a possibility of prompting her to open herself.

“Thank you, Miss Darcy, for receiving me,” said Elizabeth as she rose to depart. “I have enjoyed speaking with you very much.”

“As I have enjoyed speaking with you,” said Miss Darcy, her eyes darting to Elizabeth’s once in a bit of daring of which Elizabeth had not thought her capable.