CHAPTER I

Miss Elizabeth Bennet was the most beautiful woman in the world. Georgiana Darcy knew this to be true, because her brother had said so. Even if he had not, she thought she might believe it anyway – especially seeing her on her wedding day, decked out in silk the colour of rich clotted cream.

They had eaten clotted cream the day Miss Elizabeth visited Pemberley. She piled a great, soft peak of it on top of a scone and – when she thought no one was watching – tried to eat it all in one unladylike mouthful. Georgiana was watching though. How could she not? Miss Elizabeth was fascinating. She had gone to bed with her head full of this potential new friend and what they might do in Derbyshire together; how she was going to be brave and ask her to play a duet the next evening, when Miss Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle were joining them for dinner; how she would ask her straight away, as soon as she arrived, so she could not get scared and then not ask. How proud her brother would be to see her being confident in front of this beautiful woman who seemed to make him smile. How that would make up for all the frowning after what she did last summer–

Tightness gripped her chest. Her fingers went numb.

She had promised herself she would not think about the Bad Thing today. Closing her eyes, Georgiana tried to focus on the voices. The parson was saying something to Miss Bennet, and Miss Elizabeth's sister answered back: "I will."

"Georgiana?" Besides her, her cousin gently waved a kerchief. She took it, but instead of dabbing her eyes as he expected, she wound it round and round her fingers, tighter and tighter. She would not think of the Bad Thing.

Miss Bennet was still speaking, but Georgiana was sure now that all the eyes in the chapel must be on her instead. She shut her own eyes tight: they must all know, how could they not? George had married one of Miss Elizabeth's other sisters. In a church. They had even had a proper vicar and a notice in The Times. He had not married her in secret: not in Scotland, in some shabby blacksmith's shack. He must really love Lydia Bennet. How could he not, if she was anything like her sisters? They were all so beautiful and kind and confident. She was just his little county mouse–

"Fitzwilliam George Richard Darcy, wilt thou–"

Her brother's name brought her out of herself. She opened her eyes just in time to see the parson stop talking and her brother begin. Elizabeth followed, and then her father, giving away his second, dearest daughter. The vicar took her hand and placed it in the groom's.

"I, Fitzwilliam George Richard Darcy, take thee Elizabeth Bennet to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

Their hands danced around each other, and then: "I, Elizabeth Bennet, take thee Fitzwilliam George Richard Darcy to my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

The rings were blessed; the couples knelt; prayers were said and palms read. Finally, both couples stood and turned to face the congregation; Mrs. Darcy and Mr. Bingley laughing merrily, while Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley glowed with smiles of soft contentment. They walked over to the vestry to enter their marriage lines – and it was done. She had a sister. Something washed over her: perhaps it was relief. Despite herself, Georgiana found she was smiling too. She had a sister, and now everything would be better.

She and Fitzwilliam were the first to follow the couples out. Her Aunt Catherine's voice reminded her that she was the niece of an earl, so it was natural and just that she took such a prominent position – and she must not shy away from it. But that did not stop her from gripping tightly on Fitzwilliam's arm or staring determinedly at the back of her brother's head in the vain hope that, if she did not notice the chattering crowds around her, they might not notice her.

"You're doing very well," her cousin bent his head low so he could whisper to her. "We'll leave not long after Darcy, I promise."

She wished for the courage to insist that would not be necessarily. There truly were a lot of new people – and while she did not know them, she was certain they knew of her.

The crisp November morning washed over her like a gentle stream. The trees of Hertfordshire were almost bear, but the sun shone on valiantly despite the season: the perfect day for a late autumn wedding. Still, she felt her feet freeze in place. Ahead of them the happy couples were chatting gaily to each other. She did not want to intrude. It was only the force of Fitzwilliam's strides that moved her forwards.

"Georgiana!" Elizabeth beamed as they approached, taking both her hands in her own. This was the moment; now she could tell Elizabeth how happy she was that she had joined their family; how often she had wished that their two – which had often been only her one – were three; how she had longed for a sister to laugh and love and share with, ever since she was little. But where to start? And what if she said something wrong? What if it was too much? Maybe Elizabeth did not want another sister; she already had four. It could not be as special for her. Perhaps she should not say anything? But now she had waited too long and her new sister was looking at her, eyebrow slightly askew. Her brother would be disappointed. What if they did not wish her to live with them anymore? What if–

"Cousin Elizabeth!" Fitzwilliam cried from besides her. "How well that sounds."

"From you perhaps," she laughed. "If I hear it from any other party today I am liable to hide."

Fitzwilliam smirked for reasons she did not understand before turning to her brother. "I am forgiven then, for interfering at Hunsford?"

"Forgiven and forgotten cousin; we are thinking only of the past as its remembrance gives pleasure, is that not correct, Mrs. Darcy?" He took Elizabeth's gloved hand and gently kissed her knuckles. She smiled back warmly. Georgiana sensed there was something passing between the adults that she was not privy too. It was childish, but it hurt to think there were now secrets in her family she did not know.

"You look lovely, Georgiana," her brother said, bringing her out of herself again. For him she managed a quiet but heartfelt thank you and congratulations. He smiled in that gentle, familiar way he had with her: he always seemed to know when she wished to say more but could not. No: he was not disappointed. She was just being silly.

"Now if you'll both excuse us, I must show my new husband off to all our well-wishers. We shall see you at breakfast." Elizabeth cheerfully led Darcy away into a throng of neighbours, chatting away cheerfully to each and every one. How did she do it? How did she not crumble under the weight of everyone's eyes? And, perhaps more surprising, how did she make her brother smile and chat and look so at ease too? Georgiana looked again and found her familiar brother had vanished. She did not recognise this new brother, who smiled so broadly; she was not certain she had ever seen him before.

"Georgiana!" The familiarity of her name startled her. Squeezing her cousin's arm, she turned back to see Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst stood where their brother and his new wife had so recently been. Their eyes were turned to where hers at just been. "Do you know where Miss Eliza's dress is from?" Mrs. Hurst continued. "It surely cannot be anywhere in Herefordshire! The cut is very fashionable."

The question made her uneasy. "It was a gift," she stuttered. Louisa Hurst's expression suggested more of answer was required. What was she to say? Louisa and Caroline were always so sharp and – she suspected – did not much like Elizabeth. She did not want to give them anything to discredit her with. And now it had been too long since she had spoken – again. If she spoke now it would be more awkward–

"My mother," Fitzwilliam cut in, "Lady Matlock, gifted it to her niece, Mrs. Darcy, as a welcome into our family."

Mrs. Hurst smiled sweetly. "Lady Matlock indeed? What a comfort it must be to Mr. Darcy, to have the support of his family on such a day. And why look, her comes Eliza's other aunt now. How nice of the Gardiners to travel up from Cheapside. A shame the Earl could not make it up too!"

"Don't be so foolish Louisa." Miss Bingley reprimanded her sister, though her eyes still followed Georgiana's brother around the churchyard. With what sounded like great determination, she added: "Your husband is in the Commons, so I'm sure Lord Matlock is needed in the Lords. Is that not right Colonel?" She looked to her cousin now. "I understand events are moving quickly in Russia and Paris?"

"Indeed, they are," he replied, somewhat flustered.

"And yet you found time to support your cousin. How very admirable. I'd expect no less from one of His Majesty's officers."

Fitzwilliam took the tiniest step back. Being very familiar with retreats, she matched his step almost instinctively. Both were foiled by the arrival of Elizabeth's aunt.

"Miss Darcy, how lovely it is to see you again! And Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst."

Mrs. Gardiner stood with her husband, both finely dressed and waiting on something. Her cousin's foot gently nudged her own – and she remembered to introduce him to Elizabeth's relations. They greeted him cordially, before remarking on how splendid a thing it was that they should all meet for such a happy occasion, so soon after their time at Pemberley too.

"Yes," Caroline remarked. "It was rather strange how quickly you all took off. It was for Mrs. Wickham's wedding, was it not?"

George. Of course, Elizabeth's aunt and uncle had been at his wedding too. She remembered the press notice, little over a month after Elizabeth's party left Pemberley. It was forever burned in her memory: "On the 31st inst., at St. Benet Gracechurch, Mr. George Wickham of Lambton, Derbyshire, to Lydia, fifth daughter of Mr. Thomas Bennet, of Longbourn, Hertfordshire. A blushing bride, accompanied by her uncle and aunt, Mr. & Mrs. Edward Gardiner, of Gracechurch Street." Her brother had written to her to warn her what was coming, but that did not stop the pain. Her one comfort was that his knowledge of the event meant he must have been in Miss Elizabeth's confidence. That perhaps she would soon have a sister.

It now dawned on her that she had gained not one, but five sisters. That Lydia Wickham was also now her sister-in-law, which made George her brother. What did that make her heartache for him? It certainly could not be virtuous.

A great shiver ran through her body. "It is cold," Colonel Fitzwilliam declared to their small group. "Miss Darcy and I will make our way to Longbourn." With quick strides he marched her away. It was only when he was certain they were out of earshot that he muttered: "I'm sorry Georgiana. I did not expect the other marriage to be spoken of, not today."

They arrived at Mr. Bennet's house for the wedding breakfast – where Georgiana soon found there was little space for dark thoughts. She and her cousin were greeted as most honoured guests by Elizabeth's mother. Mrs. Bennet's welcome was as exuberant as it was loud. Georgiana's bonnet and pelisse were pronounced as the finest the lady had ever seen; and Colonel Fitzwilliam was assured, at least ten times, that though the cut of his coat was very fine it was a shame he could not have worn his regimentals, for there was nothing more becoming than a man in a red coat. For all her silliness, Georgiana found herself liking Mrs. Bennet: her ability to talk lots meant she did not have to.

"Now, Colonel, Miss Darcy, I have placed you by Sir William – he has been presented at St. James's you know – and our cousin, Mr. Collins and his wife; Lizzy tells me that you are already acquainted with them Colonel? That girl so very sly. You know she did not mention seeing you or dear Mr. Darcy the whole time she was in Kent! Even now she refuses to talk about it. She has no compassion on her mother's poor nerves. Oh, but you shall have to stay tonight Colonel and tell me the whole of it! And you Miss Darcy, about her time in Pemberley. She only mentioned that last week! Frightful girl – I mean – well, I am her mother, I alone can say that, even on her wedding day."

Mrs. Bennet continued in this manner while she took them to their seats, though what exactly she said Georgiana could not be sure. It struck her as strange that Elizabeth had mentioned nothing of seeing her brother to her own family. His letters to her from Kent were filled with Miss Elizabeth. Not in an obvious way, but he had written of her more than any other person – of her playing, walking, visiting her – and she knew enough of his character to suspect an attachment was being formed. Why would Elizabeth not write to her family about the same? Why was this another secret?

Their table was placed close to the top table. She was relieved not to be with Caroline and Louisa, who were sat instead with the other two Bennet girls. Relieved, but also sad: she would have liked the opportunity to know Mary and Catherine Bennet better, who were close to her age – even if they did appear to be engaged in an argument, much to the Miss Bingley's chagrin.

"Georgiana." Her cousin's voice brought her attention back to her own table. She turned, mortified to realise she had missed introductions. An older woman, around her cousin Lady Kirkdale's age, smile kindly at her and announced it was a pleasure to meet her at last, that she and her husband had heard so much about her from her aunt – which meant this must be Mrs. Collins, who was Elizabeth's friend, making the gentleman besides her Mr. Collins, her aunt's parson. Fitzwilliam had warned her that Mr. Collins was liable to be very talkative, but instead she found him quiet – perhaps even pensive. She decided he had the look of a man who was doing something he ought not to be and feared getting caught. It was left to the Colonel, Mrs. Collins and her family, Sir William and Lady Lucas and occasionally Miss Lucas, to make up most of the conversation.

Once plates had been piled high and then cleared again, Mr. Bennet stood, took a steadying breath, and began a speech wishing his two eldest daughters off. It was the very epitome of short but sweet – and caught Georgiana off guard. What would her own father have said on her wedding day? Would he have let her marry George? When it had just been the three of them, when her brother was off at Eton, he had encouraged their closeness. It might not have been the best match for her, but he would probably have allowed it – if they loved each other. Through her uncle's patronage George could have been promoted up from parson to Bishop. That would have been a suitable match for a Miss Darcy, surely?

The tremors began again; her heart raced in her ears. She wound her cousin's kerchief through her fingers, tighter this time, focusing on the feeling. She would not think about the Bad Thing. She would not.

Georgiana remained that way till her brother and Elizabeth rose, the time having come for them to travel to London. In the rush to wave the couple off, she took the opportunity to slip outside. She was sure they would not miss her: she would see them within the week.

In the merciful peace of the countryside, she walked to the back of Elizabeth's girlhood home. The house was smaller than she had expected. Not dissimilar to Mrs. Annesley's, the one time they had visited – before her stepson required her to leave his estate. She welcomed the distraction of that recollection – and hoped Mrs. Annesley was enjoying her break before her next position. Now Miss Darcy was to have a sister, she no longer needed a companion. At least, that is what her brother and cousin had said.

She found a small stone bench in the kitchen garden and sat down amongst the smells of the hardier herbs, clearing her head and steadying her heart. Soon: soon she could tell her new sister all her cares; that is what sisters did, or so she understood. And a sister like Elizabeth would understand, not judge. Georgiana knew that, almost instinctively. That was part of her new sister's power. Soon everything would be better.

"Lord how I envy Lydia, Maria. She got to avoid all this!"

Somewhere across the garden a voice floated over to her – in the accent the same as Elizabeth's, but in same volume the same as her mother's. "I do not see why I should have to entertain Mr. Bingley's sisters, just because Jane is married to him. Did you see the way Miss Bingley looked at Mary and I? I thought she had swallowed a wasp!"

"At least they spoke to you," a second voice replied. "I do not think Miss Darcy said one word throughout the whole breakfast."

Her heart froze. Of course, they would be talking about her. She knew it. The whole town must have been–

"I do not understand Lizzy. Jane at least loves Mr. Bingley, but Lizzy has spent the past year telling us how she loathes Mr. Darcy, and now she is married to him and will have to sit in the quiet all day! I'm certain it will drive her mad. And she was the one who was always so high and mighty about marrying for money–"

"Though he is quite handsome."

"Maria!"

"It is true! I told you, he was always calling after her at Rosing – though I think she liked the Colonel better then, but he is only a second son, which is a shame for he is far the better talker! But I'm sure she will have rooms enough to hide in now from her miserable new family. Though Lord know I should not be so miserable if I had thirty thousand pounds to my name."

"You know, Lydia wrote to me and said that Miss Darcy was completely in love with her Wickham! That she practically begged him to marry her, but Mr. Darcy would not allow it, because he did not want to be brother-in-law to a steward's son! What a laugh, that he is now brother to Wickham anyway! I wonder what Lizzy did, to make him not mind her lack of dowry and that particular relation?"

There was a silence – then a great fit of giggles, before Miss Catherine told Miss Lucas they must hurry back in and ask Jane for a ball soon, leaving Miss Darcy sat quite alone once again.

She was bereft. She was used enough to cruel words about herself – the girls at school had told her enough times that she was meek and uninteresting, though repetition did not lessen the sting – but she could not imagine hearing anything that could cause more pain. And from Elizabeth's own sister.

Not only did not she not love him, but she loathed him. How could it be so, when she smiled at him so beguilingly? When he laughed so happily? When he was so obviously in love – just like she had been, with George. But her brother was more sensible than her. He would not marry a cuckoo. Would he? Could her clever, kind, loyal brother fall into the same trap he had saved her from? The answer was too terrible to contemplate.

Rushing inside as quickly as propriety allowed, Georgiana found her cousin and asked if they may leave, now her brother had. The Colonel agreed and their carriage for London was called.

For weeks after the wedding of Mr. Bennet's eldest daughters the residents of Meryton all agreed that Miss Darcy was indeed as proud and above her company as her brother – and while they all wished Miss Lizzy the best, they would not wish for such a family, even if accompanied by half the land in Derbyshire.

Hello and thank you for visiting this story: there are so many to choose from that it really is appreciated that anyone would stop to consider this piece.

This is my third P&P fanfic and I hope it will be the second on to be completed. For any readers who know my other recent fic, Matlock, this is going to be a very different type of tale. I'm hoping to write a classic regency 'coming of age'; with our Georgiana gaining wisdom and finding love. It still starts off quite sad, because I think when we meet Georgiana she is in a very difficult place, but I promise she will have her HEA. And while this story's main focus is Georgiana, not E&D, I promise they are here having their HEA. This won't be fluff, and there will be sad points, but my hope is the lows will make the highs even happier.

It also differs from Matlock in that I'm posting as I write this one. While I have a good idea of what the story will be, it may change - and that may mean going back and re-editing earlier chapters. I will flag when this happens. It also means I won't have a regular posting schedule. I'm not going to make promises I can't keep on how regularly this will be updated but I'll try and post a little 'previously in' recap when there has been a long pause, to save readers having to go back and re-read. I don't have a proofreader for this either - if anyone is interested please PM me.

The soundtrack to this Olivia Rodrigo's SOUR, which has reminded me what it is like to be sixteen-going-on-seventeen.

Reviews and questions are always welcome: do let me know if you'd prefer an answer over PM or a follow-up review :) I'm never sure which is best! [Update: thanks to those who've already caught typos]