CHAPTER III

It was a short ride to Darcy House. Outside it was a brilliantly bright November day, but rather than gaze at bustling streets of Mayfair, Georgiana's eyes were fixed on the kerchief in her hands. She had told herself she would be brave, yet as they drew closer and closer to her brother's house, she found herself desperately wishing she could simply disappear.

Two thoughts warred inside her; her brother was too clever to fall for someone who did not love him; but Miss Catherine gained nothing by inventing such a story for Miss Lucas. She wished she trusted her own judgement enough to simply watch Elizabeth and decide the matter once and for all based on what she saw. But she knew her judgement was lacking. That's why the Bad Thing had happened.

The Matlock carriage came to a stop in front of a smart town house. Georgiana took a breath – and made to follow her aunt. Her hand trembled as the footman helped her down. Mr. Lovat greeted them at the door: she had known the old butler all her life, yet she could not shake sense that she was now an intruder. She swallowed down the anxious knot in her stomach. None of this was how it was supposed to have been.

No sooner had her aunt informed the butler that Mrs. Darcy expected them, then that lady's new husband appeared.

"Lady Matlock, Georgiana! It is so good to see you," a beaming man who looked a bit like her brother said as he made his bow. "Mrs. Darcy is upstairs with Madame Mouisset. I am banished till she is done."

Her aunt regarded this grinning, unfamiliar creature, her eyebrow cocked. "Quite right too."

Before she could find her voice the strange man informed them that he had some business in Hatton Garden, but hoped to see them both at lunch. He donned his coat and left them blinking at the closed door, utterly perplexed.

"Lady Catherine was right after all," Lady Matlock said to herself. "This is witchcraft." Then, remembering her niece, she reddened and added, "come Georgiana."

Even taking the smallest steps she could manage, they arrived at the door to the mistress's room all too quickly. She wanted the small comfort of a formal knock, but her aunt simply threw the door open. Georgiana would have been mortified, if the chaos inside did not suggest that formality had long been abandoned. Lady Matlock stalked, in leaving her hovering at the door, tentatively glancing inside.

The dressing room was in complete disarray. Gowns and sifts lay flung over ever surface; shoes, lace, stockings and every item a lady could possible need littered the flower. The modiste sat crouched down, pins jutting out her mouth, while the new French maid hurried round, picking up whatever item had been ordered. And in middle of it all stood Elizabeth, laughing and radiant. She looked up at the sound of the door opening door, past Lady Matlock – and suddenly her dark eyes shone like sapphires.

"Georgiana!" Hopping down from the stand she ran forwards, leaving Madame Mouisset desperately grasping after her hem. In an instant, Miss Darcy found herself pulled into a tight hug, before Elizabeth stepped back and grasped the younger woman's hands. "I am so glad you could make it! You must help me with choose ribbons. Kitty is always telling me I am quite awful in my taste, so you must assure me that I am not."

She did not know what to do. No one had ever hugged her like that. No one had ever asked her opinion on ribbons. She was not sure she even had an opinion on ribbons. No one had ever seemed so delighted to see her. Not even her brother and cousin. What was she supposed to say to this beautiful woman staring at her with sparkling eyes and wide smile – that suddenly dimmed.

It had happened again. She had taken too long. She knew – and Elizabeth did too. She loosened her grip on her hands and took a small step back. She was still smiling, but it was different somehow now. "I am sorry, we have made an awful mess of your nice house. We shall have it tidy again soon. Your brother has not brought a miscreant into your home, I promise you!"

"Mrs. Darcy doesn't tidy." Her aunt called over her shoulder at them, before turning back to Madame Mouisset – missing Elizabeth's own cocked brow. "And you're sure these will be enough to see her through till they return for the Season?"

"We have not fixed yet that we will return for the Season." Elizabeth called back. Her aunt shot her a skeptical look.

Georgiana froze the door. Elizabeth had just contradicted Lady Matlock! And her aunt was – smiling!

"Well in that case, you will need more."

"Lord please, no more!" Elizabeth threw up her hands. "Lady Matlock, this has all been incredibly generous of you, but if I have to try on one more new gown, I shall scream and that will undo my promise to Georgiana. Oh! That is nothing against your skill Madame Mouisset, I am just unused to being a fashion plate. That is more my younger sisters' forte."

"I suggest you find a way to accommodate yourself to it, Mrs. Darcy." Her aunt turned and sat down with all the dignity and poise of Queen Charlotte amidst the genteel chaos. "Come, show me what I have bought."

Georgiana would become invisible again while Elizabeth and Madame Mouisset paraded through her new wardrobe. And while they and her aunt were distracted, perhaps she could better identify her new sister's motives. At least, that is what she had planned.

Elizabeth, it transpired, did not not see Georgiana. She asked her opinion on everything. It was overwhelming. And yet, not unwelcome. Elizabeth did not even seem to mind that she could find no better words to express her opinions than saying that this dress was "very pretty" while another "suited her very much. It struck her that if she was able to sketch Elizabeth then she might be able to show her properly just how well she thought she looked.

Her new sister puzzled her exceedingly. Her character seemed to shift with every person she spoke to. With her aunt, she was saucy (much to Georgiana's fascination); with Madame Mouisset and the maid, she was gracious; and with Georgiana, she was – gentle. She did it with her voice, her movements – but mostly with her eyes.

Then a fourth Elizabeth appeared over lunch, when her brother joined them. She was most puzzling of them all. Georgiana did not even have the words to understand that Elizabeth, or how she seemed to draw out a different Fitzwilliam Darcy, one she had never met in all her sixteen and a half years. There was only one word in Georgiana's vocabulary that came close describing this Elizabeth. Her aunts were half-right; she was bewitching.

She tried to make sense of it all as they rode back. But it was no good; Elizabeth's spell was still working. Her aunt could see her.

"You look perplexed Georgiana."

She swallowed. She did not wish to reply, but she could not ignore her aunt. "I – I am just wondering–"

"Just wondering what child?"

She took a deep, steadying breath. "Why did you buy Elizabeth's wedding clothes? I – I had thought it would be for my brother to arrange?"

"Your uncle and I agreed with your brother that it would better if it was widely known that we were welcoming Elizabeth in the family. And nothing travels so quickly as seamstresses' gossip. It was a means of getting ahead of your Aunt Catherine's slanders."

"Does my aunt, Lady Catherine think Elizabeth is a fortune hunter?"

"It is better, my dear, if you do not know what Lady Catherine thinks."

"But – you do not believe she is?"

Her aunt considered her for a moment. She had gone too far. She was only a child. She should not have questioned–

"I believe she is a confident, pretty little thing, who seems to make your brother very happy. Richard likes her too, which you know is always a boon for me. I will not claim to be certain of her motives, but she is not daft or malicious – as far as any of us can tell. And she has a ready wit, nor is she afraid to use it, which is all too rare in young women these days. I had hoped for more, but he could have done a great deal worse. You could learn a lot from her Georgiana. She is very charming–" The insinuation stung. She went back to her kerchief. Perhaps she had regained her invisibility: her aunt no longer seemed to be noticing her. "–at least genteel on the father's side, which is all that really matters. And she comes from a large family. That must be in her favour. Lord knows there are not enough Fitzwilliams or Darcys in this world. I have every hope that you will have a niece or nephew by the autumn."

Her heart leapt. She had not considered that. She had been so fixed on a having sister that she had given no thought to a niece or nephew. For the first time in days delight washed over her and she found herself smiling. Her brother's children: how wondrous.

Happy thoughts of playing, teaching, drawing with little ones carried her through to bedtime. It was only as she sat in bed, making gentle strokes with her pencils – the green gardens of Pemberley, ripe for playing in – that it struck her: her aunt had not said she did not believe Elizabeth was a fortune hunter. All she had said was that Elizabeth was charming and confident. The Elizabeth she saw anyway, for Georgiana knew now that there were several.

But did it matter, really? If she made her brother happy? If she gave them a family?

Her soft pencil was swapped out for something harder: clouds began to gather in her picture.

Of course, it mattered. All this afternoon had proven was that Elizabeth was as talented as any actress on Drury Lane. No one could have that many parts of themself and it not be an act. Of course, she could disguise loathing as love. It was all a clever charm.

The pencil snapped. She put it down, picked up another and pulled out a clean sheet. Sadly, softly, she drew a curve – then another, then another. Soon the curves became eyes. Dark, with a spark of mischief, even when pretending to be kind. George's eyes.

He was confident, and charming, just like Elizabeth. He was clever, just like Elizabeth. He had made her smile – not with the same wide grin her brother sported – but a warm smile; a contented smile. He had cast a spell on her, one that made her believe he loved her.

But he did not, because he was a fortune hunter.

What did that make Elizabeth?

A short AN this time as I'm juggling a few things, but didn't want to leave readers hanging! Thank you for all the kind reviews. For those of you who have wanted a Georgiana story, I hope this delivers!

As always, please follow and review if you're enjoying it so far. It really does help with the motivation to keep going!