Hello! It's been almost two years since I've updated this, wow! I was going through my files when I found my old fanfics still in here. Because I was trying to get back into the groove of writing, I thought might as well continue this. I hope you enjoy this new update! It's really been a while, and don't worry, there's another one right after this. If I still have dedicated readers out there, I think you deserve that!

"Suck it in, my dear! Suck…it…in!"

Cath had always considered herself to be a history enthusiast. It had always been one of her favorite subjects in school, whether it was middle school, high school or college. There was a point in her academic career when her library card had been tattered from overuse, and the reason behind this was she would hoard mounds and mounds of history books in her room. She didn't care if she was always overdue; she just needed to read them all. Western history, in particular, was her favorite, and she had impressed Henry last semester when her grade was just two points shy away from a hundred. History wasn't particularly a great passion, but she loved it. She loved it so much it was the only thing keeping her from going insane as of this moment. She thought her love for history would overcome her misery and make this trip bearable.

Unfortunately, love did know some bounds, and this was one of them.

"Are—ugh—corsets really necessary?" Cath grunted as her grip on a nearby chair tightened. She let out one more animalistic groan as she felt like her abdomen was being crushed by the strongest person alive and turned to Jane. She was sitting in front of a woman who was fixing her hair into an updo.

"You of all people should know it's necessary," Jane quipped while stifling a grin.

"I thought I'd love the idea of stepping into history but—" Yet, another groan. "—if I have to go through this every single day for the next seven days, I'd rather be that fat slob with no manners."

"C'mon, Cath. You'll eventually get used to it," Jane assured her, but even she couldn't believe her words. The last time she was here, she had to wear it for two weeks and even then, she never got used to it. She was just lucky it'll only last for a week this time.

"I doubt it," Cath sighed, rather cautiously.

"My goodness! For such a petite woman, you sure have a lot of weight packed right in there," Mrs. Travers chuckled with a pat to Cath's stomach.

"I'm done?" Cath asked, slowly standing straight and looking around to check if anyone was still pulling on the strings.

"Yes," Mrs. Travers smiled, but not without whispering a faint, "Finally."

"It doesn't feel like I'm done," Cath peeped as she ran a hand down her stomach and desperately tried to let out a comfortable breath.

"Don't worry, darling. You'll get used to breathing in it," Mrs. Travers chirped. She walked over to a rack full of dresses just as Emma had emerged from a room divider with her corset already tied up.

"What the—when the hell did you put a corset on?" Cath asked in astonishment, but mainly confusion.

"Just a minute ago," Emma answered nonchalantly. "I thought it would be painful, but it actually wasn't that bad."

Jesus Christ, she was literally made for this era, Cath scowled. Despite knowing Emma was going to love this place, a small part of her still wanted her to share her pain, even if it was just about the horrible corsets.

But nope. Cath was all alone in her pursuit of sympathy, enough to convince Jane and Henry to let her go home much earlier than intended.

"Carnation or magenta?"

In her sudden lapse of despair, she hadn't noticed Mrs. Travers holding up a couple of dresses for her to try on. The sound of her voice snapped her back to reality and Cath immediately turned to the old lady, only to shove her face in a curtain of ruffles.

"Oh! Um, I don't know…do you have anything that's not pink? Or doesn't have ruffles?"

"Oh, no, no!" Emma and Jane suddenly interjected.

"God," Cath groaned, her voice barely above a whisper. She may have been clueless about 1800's fashion—she was more of a significant-events-type of gal when it came to history—but she had grown a great distrust in her sister and cousin dressing her up. Whatever they would pick out would be the complete opposite of what she usually wore. She had to admit, there were times when she actually loved what they had put together for her, but she couldn't shake off the discomfort she always felt five minutes after leaving her house.

"Pink is perfect for you!" Emma continued. "In fact…"

Her sister waltzed over to the dress rack and pushed a line of dresses aside to inspect a pink dress. It was a darkish pink number, with the first layer of the skirt pinned in the middle, right under a white sash nestled on the bottom of the breast, to create a curtained opening in the front that revealed the lighter pink second layer of the skirt.

"Lavender pink," Emma said. It had always amused Cath how her sister memorized almost every color in the world. But then again, she was a fine arts major.

"I think this would look great on you," Emma smiled, pulling it out of the rack and walking over to Cath. She held it up against her sister and imagined how it would look if she put it on.

"I totally agree with you, Emma," Jane butted in after finishing up with her updo. She walked over to them and spread out the skirt a little to see how it looked on Cath. "Ugh, the men are going to love you in these."

Cath grimaced at that comment. That was the last thing she wanted, to get a man's attention. She actually hoped there weren't going to be any men at the house, but knowing how boy crazy her companions were, she doubted the absence of men in their stay.

"Uh-uh. No men," Cath declared, making an 'x' with her index fingers. "Only here because you guys forced me. I'm not here to attract men. Different dress."

"C'mon, Cath! At least try it on!" Emma insisted. "Besides, it doesn't matter what you wear. You're gorgeous. You could wear a burlap sack and all the guys would still flock towards you."

"I'm finding it hard to take that as a compliment," Cath cringed. Definitely not what she wanted to hear.

"I don't know what to tell you, Catherine," Emma went on. "I mean, even right now, only in undergarments, you look like you've been living in the 1800's all your life. It's like watching a BBC adaptation of any Jane Austen novel. You the prettiest leading lady I've ever seen. You are definitely going to score a Mr. Darcy by the end of the week—"

"Emma, I think that's enough," Jane cut it in, taking the dress from Emma and removing it from the hanger.

As Jane helped Cath into the dress, the youngest Hayes woman stared into the distance in a daze, already imagining the numerous smirks she would be getting in the house. It's not that she thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world—in fact, she would be afraid if she was the most beautiful woman in the world. Cath was never much of an attention seeker, and the only people she hated getting attention from were men. Men who were interested in her, to be specific. She had seen that look, time and time again, of men's faces going blank, and then, all of a sudden, the corners of their lips turning up into a smile, in an attempt to hold her gaze that rarely even lasts for a second.

They may be in the Regency era, but she didn't know how men reacted to seeing a pretty lady. Because men were such entitled dickheads, even back in the day, she would expect them to have that cocky smile on their faces—the type of smile that haunted Cath every time she thought about going out with her sister or her friends. She never wanted to be that girl that assumed every guy was into her, but the number of guys that have given her that look has given her a reason to assume that once she steps into that house—a house full of guys paid to adore her—she will just be traumatized. Forever.

"I can't do this."

As Jane finishes getting Cath's arms through the puffed sleeves, her own arms fall to her sides in a frustration. "See, Emma? Look what you did."

"I was just kidding!" Emma exclaimed with her arms raised defensively. "I didn't know she would take it that seriously."

"But Emma's right," Cath gasped. "What if a guy suddenly starts winking at me and thinks it's okay to flirt with me? What if they all do it? Jane, you know how I hate guys flirting with me, let alone just the idea of it!"

"Cath, relax!" Jane gently takes her face in her hands and tries to soothe her with gentle strokes on her cheek. "You did not ask for romance, and you will not get any romance. These guys will not even think about winking at you, and if one of them does, we'll get Henry to tackle them to the ground and apologize like a true gentleman. Does that sound good to you?"

By the mention of Henry, Cath finally snaps out of her sudden panic attack and snickers. "Henry tackle a guy? He could barely catch his own keys when you throw it at him. I doubt he even knows how to tackle a person."

"There she is," Jane smiled. "Gosh, you need to stop overreacting."

"Sorry. Zero tolerance for men interested in me," Cath said sheepishly. "I thought I knew what to do when one them tries to make a move, but after that one guy in the park, I thought it would just be best if I avoided them. At all cost."

"Don't worry, my dear. Actors will not show interest unless you explicitly ask for a romantic relationship," Mrs. Travers assured her, finally stepping into the conversation. "They will be expected to act like gentleman, as per usual, but they will keep their distance."

Happy to know this, Cath sits down and lets out an audible sigh of relief. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Travers."

"No problem, Ms. Darling," Mrs. Travers replied. "Now, don't you want to see how you look in that dress?"

"Oh, right!"

Cath shoots up from the chair, which proved to be a mistake thanks to the corset, and turns to the mirror with high hopes that she'll actually like what she's wearing. Well…

"I literally look like a 19th century Barbie doll that ate a huge dinner at a banquet and decided to stick a finger down her throat to puke all over herself."

"Time for your hair, deary!"

Finally, after 30 grueling minutes of getting her hair pulled and twisted in 80 different ways, they were all commanded to surrender their carry-ons, with all modern contraptions inside (with the exception of any medicine—all three of them considering their notebooks and sketchpads falling under this category) and head downstairs to the drawing room, where they will have their etiquette lessons.

Once there, they were greeted by Henry, all decked out in his breeches and tailcoat. For Jane, it was a nice trip down memory lane, and she had to admit, she still found him extremely sexy in his Regency garb. Cath and Emma, on the other hand, were just having a field day with his outfit. It wasn't that he looked terrible in it. It was just that he still looked like an uptight killjoy, whatever he wore.

After a series of jokes, lasting for five minutes, all made by Cath and Emma, they began their etiquette and dance lessons. Now, Cath never considered herself to be a graceful person, and how she passed the etiquette lessons, she'll never know, but by the time they were being taught how to dance, everything just went downhill for her. If she had it her way, she would've just sat in a corner and snickered every time someone tripped, fell or stepped on someone else. Unfortunately, she was doing the tripping and falling and stepping on someone else. Not even the fact that Henry was her partner made her even less embarrassed. She just hoped she didn't have to dance in the ball at the end of the week, because God knows she won't be able to remember any of the steps.

Two hours later—two miserable hours, by the way—their luggage had been packed and their carriage was ready to take them up to the manor.

"Are they really going to take us to the manor in the dark?" Cath questioned, watching Henry help Emma into the carriage. She checked her smuggled watch (knowing she was an hour closer to home was enough to calm her down), and sighed at the hands pointing at 7:30 pm. "What if we run into something? Or worse, what if we get hijacked!"

"We are not going to get hijacked," Henry laughed. "They wouldn't let us travel at this time if it wasn't safe."

"How would you know? You've only travelled in daylight," Cath argued back.

"Stop being paranoid, Catherine, and get in the carriage," Henry jokingly commanded. After helping Jane in, he held his hand out for Cath to take, and after a few hesitant moments, Cath took his hand and climbed up the steps. Henry followed in after her, and in a few short minutes, the carriage was moving along bumpy roads towards Austenland.

"Huh." Jane scoffed, as she looked out the window. "'I'm afraid this carriage only takes two passengers.' Two passengers my ass."

Henry suddenly let out a hearty laugh as he remembered her recounting this story to him. "It's been more than a year, darling. I do hope you don't have a personal vendetta against my aunt, no matter how annoying she is."

"I'm just saying, why make a basic copper package if you're only going to treat your guests like crap!"

Henry let out another laugh and reached for Jane's hand, kissing it affectionately and looking at his bride-to-be.

"Man!" Emma exclaimed, fanning herself rigorously. "Is it hot in here or what? How long is the carriage ride?"

"Oh, honey," Jane chuckled. "This might take awhile."

And a while it was, indeed.

A suddenly jolt brought Cath back to life as the carriage pulled up at the manor. When she fell asleep during the trip, she didn't know, but she was just glad they were finally getting out and given the chance to stretch. One by one, they filed outside, with Henry first, offering a hand to Jane, then Cath and then Emma. At the entrance of the surprisingly large, yellow manor, an array of lanterns lit up the front steps, which were lined up with servants and maids to welcome them with warm smiles.

"We're finally here!" Emma clapped excitedly, leaving her companions behind and walking up the steps. Not without eyeing the servants, of course.

"Jesus, Emma, some class would be nice," Cath said, rolling her eyes.

"Your sass and negativity will not ruin my trip," Emma declared, reaching the top step just as Miss Charming emerged from the opened double doors.

"Welcome, friends!" she greeted, stretching an arm out and curtsying rather awkwardly.

"Oh, Miss Charming!" Emma smiled, getting into character. "How lovely to see you again!"

She bowed before their host, causing Cath to involuntarily roll her eyes again. On the plane, back at the stop over, in the carriage ride, Cath had thought she would love the place once she set foot on it. Despite her predispositions, she didn't want to be that person, claiming to hate something she'd never tried before. But now that she was here, finally getting to know what it feels like to live in the Regency era, she had definitely made her conclusion: she hated the place. She wasn't an actress. She was incapable of pretending to be somebody else. She couldn't even make it up the steps without stepping on her dress. Again, Henry was there to save her from the embarrassment of tripping and falling forward.

In conclusion, I love history, but I hate living in it, Cath mused as she scowled at the servants smirking at her, just as she feared. She tried her best to shield them away from her vision, all the while thinking Austenland's application forms should have 'additional instructions' at the bottom so she could get rid of these servants.

"You nervous?" Henry whispered to her, stealing a quick sideways glance before looking straight ahead.

"More on the lines of impatiently-waiting-to-get-out-of-here," Cath answered.

Henry smiled. "Don't worry. You'll learn to love it like I did."

"Okay, one day, we're going to have a serious talk on whether or not you like this place, okay?" Cath quipped.

"You know, I might actually need that talk," Henry agreed.

As they reached the last step, Miss Charming welcomed them with open arms, surprising Cath with a tight hug.

"I thought I was supposed to curtsy," Cath grunted. She patted Miss Charming on the back, which was her only way of returning the hug, and waited until she was freed from her death grip.

"Screw that, I'm just so happy to meet you girls," Miss Charming said.

"Um…thanks?"

After what seemed like an hour, she had finally released Cath, but kept her in place and placed both hands on her arms.

"I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I think you're going to love it here," Miss Charming assured her.

"Dear God, I hope so," Cath answered with desperation. Miss Charming gave her arm a pat before moving on to Jane and Henry. They exchanged a few pleasantries, quite animatedly, before Miss Charming led them all to their rooms.

Jane and Henry were shown to theirs first, a classy master bedroom that did not at all look like that tacky, orange bedroom Miss Charming stayed in the last time they were there. Next was Emma, who was two doors down from them, and surprisingly scored the orange bedroom. It was so heavily decorated, Cath thought she would die of claustrophobia. Luckily, in the one next to Emma's, it was a modest, light blue room perfect for Cath. It had a double with a canopy. At the far end of the room, there was window seat next to a bay window, which she had already deemed as her favorite writing spot. She was surprised to see a fireplace across the bed, and in front of that was a chaise lounge. That was all there was aside from a closet and a vanity table.

"Wow, Miss Charming, this room is just…incredible," Cath said breathlessly, slowly walking in and taking a seat in front of the fire place.

"I'm glad you like it," Miss Charming smiled. "Jane said you liked to write, so I thought this room would fit you."

"Thank you so much," Cath beamed. "I'm starting to like this place already."

"Oh, goody! Well, you should start getting settled. The boys are waiting downstairs," Miss Charming informed her. "I'll talk you up to Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Charming, I—"

"Be at the drawing room at 8:15! Cheerio!"

"Did not ask for romance," Cath finished. "Great. Just great."

Collapsing on the lounge, Cath buried her head under the pillows and let out the loudest scream she could muster. She really did want to fall in love with this place—she was a sucker for flowers and pastel colors—but having people pushing her towards romance left and right wasn't going to help. Now that Emma's in full character and she didn't want to keep stealing Henry from Jane just to get through the day, this room was her only refuge, and she was determined to keep herself from the outside world until the end of the week.