“Yes, Mrs. Darcy.”

Mr. Stalling turned the carriage toward the hedgerow leading to the main drive. “We will keep our visits short,” Elizabeth told Darcy’s sister. “I can tell you are not at your best today.”

“My head feels so full. Perhaps I should remain in the carriage. Both the Baines and the Taylors have a houseful of children. It would not be the Christian thing to share my illness.” Georgiana sniffled and reached for her handkerchief.

“That might be best.” Elizabeth straightened the seam of her dress. “I will make the call; you stay in the carriage and keep your feet on the warming brick. Then I will see you home. I am sure Mrs. Reynolds has a special poultice to make you feel better.”

“Thank you, Elizabeth.” Georgiana sniffed again.

Elizabeth adjusted the blanket across Georgiana’s lap. “Fitzwilliam will be distressed to know you feel poorly.”

“He does worry about me.” Georgiana Darcy leaned back into the thick squabs of her brother’s carriage. Elizabeth remembered the first time she had seen the girl, who had been little more than sixteen at the time. Darcy had brought his sister to the inn in Lambton to meet Elizabeth after finding Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle visiting Pemberley on holiday. It had been the beginning of her life together with Darcy.

Although Elizabeth was four years her senior, Darcy’s sister was taller and on a larger scale. She was less handsome than her brother, but there was sense and good humor in her face, and her manners were perfectly unassuming and gentle. Everyone who knew Georgiana Darcy esteemed her for her compassion and her goodness. Elizabeth treasured having Georgiana in the household. Having left a houseful of sisters in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth appreciated having female companionship.

“Your brother has spent his adult life caring for you.”