Free Trouble With Wickham by Olivia Kane Page A

her brother’s controlling ways, signaling to him that she planned to be unpredictable.
    Before she had a chance to second guess her decision she turned the doorknob and flung open the door, walking swiftly down the corridor and across the landing, descending the grand staircase with grace, her nervous yet exhilarated heart fluttering as rapidly as a hummingbird’s wings.

Chapter Seven
    T he Bennington Park drawing room was full of well-dressed people who looked admiringly at the blonde young lady who suddenly appeared in the doorway unescorted. Charlotte saw Georgiana immediately upon her approach and ran to greet her, pulling her into the room eagerly and rescuing her from experiencing even a moment’s social awkwardness.
    Georgiana was drawn into a small group of what she considered to be surprisingly pleasant looking men, for country folk, she thought. The tall, dark young man with deep brown eyes she learned was Charlotte’s own husband Guy, and the other her brother Hugh.
    She recognized them immediately as the two riders who sped past her window.
    “Very pleased to meet you Miss Darcy,” the young heir said, with a slight bow. Georgiana liked the looks of this young man instantly. With his refined features, unruly head of thick sandy locks, aquiline nose and towering height, she thought it would not be a small thing to earn his favor. “And you too,” she replied, and when his blue eyes lingered on her face she felt herself suddenly tongue-tied.
    “And how are you enjoying Hertfordshire?” Hugh began confidently, picking a banal yet neutral conversational starting point.
    “Very much. I am getting used to the rhythms of the countryside, after my long stay in London,” she replied sweetly.
    “A drink, my lady?” A servant proffered Miss Darcy a tray of small cut crystal glasses of Madeira.
    “Yes, thank you,” she replied, selecting a glass and taking an initial sip, happy to feel its warmth sink deep inside of her but happier still to have something to hold in her nervous hands. Guy, having himself been a recent newcomer to Hertfordshire society, sensed Georgiana’s slight anxiety and decided to inject humor into their circle.
    “Let me be the first to warn you, Miss Darcy, that your hosts possess an explicit bias for their home county,” Guy explained. “Do not make the mistake of regarding any other spot in England above Hertfordshire,” he teased.
    Charlotte was not having it.
    “But Guy! Be reasonable! It is not peculiar or wrong-headed to prefer one’s home county above all others,” she sweetly reprimanded her husband. “I am sure she and Mr. Darcy must feel the same about Derbyshire.”
    Georgiana’s moment of nerves seemed to float away, along with her fear that her opinions would not matter amongst the Meryton strangers, and she found herself eager for a break in the conversation to chime in. “Yes, I dare say Derbyshire is rich in natural beauty, but my attachment to it does not deter me from appreciating new landscapes,” she said. “I could not help but admire the countryside on our journey here. Perhaps one day I may become a Hertfordshire convert as well.”
    “Oh there is no prettier place than Hertfordshire,” Charlotte said, naturally falling back into her old habit of extolling the virtues of her childhood home. “Although I am most happily settled at Ludlow Lodge there is still a charm to Hertfordshire that tugs at my heart.”
    “Ah, is it not all part of England’s green and pleasant land, as the poet says?” Guy said, with the dreamy look he always got when recalling his favorite poets.
    “Pray you do not become so attached to a place that you make foolish decisions based on your fear of leaving it, like Charlotte did,” Hugh said, taking another opportunity to torment his sister for her failed geographical approach to finding a husband.
    Charlotte rolled her eyes.
    “Excuse my horrid brother Miss Darcy. He is referring to an unfortunate short courtship I