"Lizzie?" Mom prompted me. Apparently, Darcy wasn't the only one surprised by my silence.

I looked up and saw Claudia Reynolds smiling at me.

"Ms. Reynolds." I tried to find my voice. "I cannot tell you enough how much meeting you means to me. You are truly amazing. The concert was, and will forever be, one of the most incredible experiences of my life. Thank you." I bit my lip to stop it from quivering.

She smiled at me. "Thank you, Lizzie. Can I call you Lizzie?"

I nodded. She could pretty much call me anything. I wouldn't even be offended if Claudia Reynolds called me a charity case, bum, or hobo.

"So, please, help yourself." She gestured toward the food in front of us. "Will, can you pour the tea, please? I would like to take credit for this, but our amazing cook is from England and makes the best scones and clotted cream. We only have it for special guests or the cream wouldn't be the only thing that is clotted in this house."

Darcy groaned. "You're never going to get tired of that joke, are you?"

"Never," she said as she grabbed a scone.

"Georgiana, there you are!" She got up and gave the girl who entered the room a big hug.

Darcy's sister gave us a little wave as she was introduced to us before sitting down next to her brother. She was so tiny and frail, I felt sick to my stomach thinking about Wick.

Darcy grabbed a plate and started filling it up for her. The admiration between the two was obvious. "Hmmm," he started teasing her. "Which one of these cups is for you? I don't see any black licorice tea here."

"Gross, Will," she said softly as she pushed his arm.

"Lizzie, do you see any ant stew near you for Georgie?"

"Will, stop it! I'm not five years old anymore." She giggled, and it was clear that she didn't mind being teased by her older brother.

"Okay, fine, have it your way. The adults will be drinking tea, but here you go." He picked up a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream. "I don't know. Looks pretty gross to me, but whatever."

She took the cup and sat back on the couch, her feet barely grazing the floor. She was the same age as Lydia, but unlike Lydia (well, there was a lot about Georgiana that was different from Lydia), she didn't try to come across as older. She seemed a lot younger, more vulnerable. I noticed throughout the evening that she kept studying me, although it was a very different look than the judging glances I would get from Caroline. Georgiana was more curious. I wondered what, if anything, Darcy had told her about me.

The thought of my treatment toward Darcy made me feel incredibly guilty during the tea, especially since his family was so warm and welcoming.

I hardly spoke, just observed, and kept trying to put all the pieces of this puzzle together.

Ms. Reynolds turned her attention to me. "So, Lizzie, what are you performing for the year-end recital?"

"Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini."

"Impressive," she replied. "I didn't tackle that until I went to college. I'd love to hear you play." She nodded to the Steinway that was near the front window.

"Oh, well, I'm having some problems with the runs."

She nodded knowingly. "The last variation?"

"Yes."

"That's a tough one. The sheet music that I learned it on had the most ridiculous fingering recommendations. I guess it could be considered helpful, if you have six-fingered hands. Here, I'll show you a trick." She got up and motioned for me to join her at the piano.

I was in a near trance as I walked over to the bench.

"What I figured out is that if you cross over at this point" -- she played part of the run -- "it lets your fingers easily move up." She did it once slowly so I could see, and then again at full speed.

She got up so I could try. I tried to not be too intimidated as she stood behind me and I tried her method. It worked. It worked so well that for the first time I was able to do the entire run without my fingers running into themselves.

"Thank you!" I hesitated for a second and then did it again to make sure it wasn't a fluke.

"May we hear what you have so far? That's one of my favorite pieces."

Claudia Reynolds was asking me to play for her. Claudia Reynolds, who had just performed at Carnegie Hall. Claudia Reynolds, who had just taught me how to do a flawless run.

Claudia Reynolds, who was Will Darcy's mother.

The only thing that made sense to me was Rachmaninoff.

I gently ran my fingers over the keyboard, going over the piece in my mind. Then I began. I hadn't played the piece for anybody except Mrs. Gardiner. I generally got nervous performing new pieces for people. I would always start with my mom, then my dad, then my friends. But this time I dove in headfirst.

I don't even know if I breathed for the entire piece. I completely expected to forget a section or stumble, but I didn't. I hadn't even played all the different variations back-to-back yet, but there I was, in Claudia Reynolds's house ... in Darcy's house, playing.

When I finished, I looked up and was somewhat startled to find Darcy standing right next to the piano with Georgiana.

I blushed, embarrassed that I would be seen as showing off.

The group applauded and I saw that my mother had tears running down her face. "I'm so proud of you," she sobbed.

Darcy's mom came over and gave me a hug. "That was brilliant."

"Because of you. I can't thank you enough for everything, really," I blubbered.