Okay, this one gives a LOT more detail about Georgiana than I meant to give - but it all just flowed out. So you get to understand more about Darcy - and hate on his dad a whole lot more. That man was just evil. (And yes, I'm aware the timeline doesn't match what the prologue says - there's more to the story, but you're not getting to it yet. I promise it's on purpose.)

Chapter 16

Darcy entered the front door of his house on Grosvenor Square, exhausted and dirty. The butler, Jenkins, looked at him with wide eyes.

"Mr. Darcy! We did not expect you, sir. I'm afraid -"

He waved his hand wearily. "Not to worry. It was a sudden decision to accompany Mr. Bingley to town. I will only be here for a few days. Hawkins will not even be joining me, so I will need a footman's assistance whilst I am in residence."

"Very good, sir."

"Where is my sister?" Darcy asked as he removed his hat and gloves before passing them on to a waiting footman.

"I believe you will find Miss Darcy in the music room."

"Excellent. Thank you, Jenkins."

As he made his way down the long corridor towards the back of the house, the faint chord of a somber tune slowly marched their way towards him. His shoulders slumped as he recognized the mournful notes of Beethoven's funeral march sonata on the death of a hero.

It was hardly the typical piece a young lady of fifteen would choose. But then again, Georgiana was far from typical, in every sense of the word.

The door to the music room gaped open, and the dim light from a single candle flickered into the hallway. He leaned against the frame and watched the slender form of his younger sister sway forcefully back and forth as her fingers pounded out the rich, deep notes of Beethoven's twelfth.

A soft clearing of the throat came from the corner of the room; Mrs. Annesley, Georgiana's companion of the last several months, had noticed Darcy's presence and was calling her charge's attention to him.

The music immediately ceased, and the blond curls that cascaded down Georgiana's back in the typical style of a girl not yet out were whipped around as she spun on the bench to face the door.

Darcy's heart wrenched, as it always did when he first caught sight of her face after time apart.

Two dark, thick angry scars - both at least a quarter of an inch across - made their way down from each nostril down to her upper lip. Her mouth opened to say his name, but instead of "Fitzwilliam," it came out sounding more like, "Fish-wiwum."

He fought back the lump in his throat as he opened his arms to her. "My dear girl."

She stood and ran towards him, throwing herself into his arms. Her garbled speech was even more unintelligible by her face being pressed into his chest. "What was that?"

"I mished oo."

"I missed you as well."

"Shtay ong?"

"No, I'm afraid I won't be able to stay long - only a few days."

Her face fell, and he said, "Mr. Bingley is to be married, and he has asked me to stand up with him. I have come to assist him in purchasing a license, as the young lady has health issues and may not live very long."

"Ish she ugwy wike ee?"

"Is she ugly like you… Georgiana Darcy, you are not ugly!"

She shrank back slightly at the vehemence in his tone, and the fear in her eyes made him instantly regret his harshness. He forced his voice back to a gentle level and said, "I am sorry, my dear one. It was a very long ride, and the smell of horse has put me in a foul mood!"

He lifted one arm and made a show of sniffing himself, then pulling a terrible face. She giggled, then winced in pain and lifted a hand up to the thick, red scars above her mouth.

"Are they sore today?" he asked sympathetically.

She nodded, and he looked over at Mrs. Annesley, who had been listening attentively. "She has been doing her stretches, sir, just as the doctor ordered. He said that it will simply take time."

"And the salves?"

The companion nodded. "We massage in the ointments at night, then apply the poultice before she goes to bed. The lotions are rubbed in every morning and afternoon, as well."

"Excellent," he said. "I'm very proud of you, dearest."

Georgiana gave him a small smile, careful not to pull at the tender skin, and he returned it with one of his own. He then placed a soft kiss and her brow and said, "I believe it's almost time for you retire, is it not?"

Before his sister could even have time to reply, the clock in the hall began to chime the hour. The three of them began to giggle, and Mrs. Annesley said, "Impeccable timing, sir. Come, Miss Darcy."

"See oo mor-o, Uver?"

"Yes, Sister, you will see me tomorrow after I have paid a call on Lord Matlock. I need his assistance in securing an an appointment with the Archbishop of Canterbury to secure a special license for Bingley."

Mrs. Annesley raised her eyebrows. "A special license, you say?" Then she blushed and hurriedly added, "Forgive my impertinence, Mr. Darcy. I can only offer my surprise as an excuse - I was expecting you to be facilitating a common license."

Darcy waved a hand, dismissing her words. "No need to apologize. Due to the young woman's precarious health, any attempt to go to the church in this cold weather could hasten her demise. Since a common license would still require her to marry at a church between the hours of eight and noon, a special license would be the safest thing for her."

"But His Grace only grants those to Peers - and the expense!"

"Hence my need for my uncle. Lord Matlock is, quite fortunately, also the Archbishop's godson. If anyone can get us in and explain the situation, it would be him. There is no guarantee, however, as His Grace does tend to be quite fastidious and thorough in his research as to who merits a license. My hope is that the letter from Mr. Bennet, as well as the testimony of Dr. Carson, will be sufficient evidence, along with my own statement, of course."

The conversation was halted when Georgiana let out a wide yawn, then whimpered when the movement pulled the scars at her mouth. Mrs. Annesley began to cluck and fuss over her charge, and Darcy urged the two of them to retire with the promise that he would spend time with his sister the following afternoon.

A quarter of an hour later, Darcy sank gratefully into the scalding water of the hot bath in his dressing room. Jenkins had passed on the news of Darcy's arrival to his wife - who was also the housekeeper - and the good woman had, in turn, ordered a hot bath for her master to be prepared whilst he was conversing with his sister.

The long ride from Hertfordshire had taxed his muscles more than he cared to admit. If his cousin, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam of His Majesty's 10th Regiment of Light Dragoons, could witness the scene, there would be no end to the teasing.

A few hours in the saddle has you sore, eh, Fitzie? What a tortured life you lead, you poor sod! You wouldn't last the first day of training in the militia, let alone the regulars.

Darcy gave a light snort - his cousin made a fair point. While Darcy took pleasure in staying fit by exercising regularly with fencing matches and daily horseback rides, it was nothing compared to the drills and conditioning the members of the army and navy conducted on a daily basis. He could hold his own against any other gentleman in London, but that was a far cry from winning a bout with one of His Majesty's trained soldiers.

Idly, he wondered whether Elizabeth Bennet would prefer someone more like himself or his cousin, then shook his head rid himself of the thought. He groaned loudly as the steaming water swept over his bare skin, instantly causing the blood in his veins to rush to the aching muscles.

"Did you call, sir?"

The footman who had been assigned to act as valet was a welcome distraction from the path he knew his thoughts would take him. "No… that is, just… just leave out my dressing gown and nightshirt, then you may retire for the night I will ring the bell if anything further is needed, but I doubt it."

There was a brief silence, then the servant said, "Very well, sir. Thank you, sir."

There were several minutes of rustling, during which Darcy forced his thoughts back to the present and his interactions with his sister that evening. He mentally reviewed the list of everything that would need to be accomplished the following morning in order to help Bingley secure the special license.

It was only when the footman had departed, closing the door behind him with a soft click, that Darcy allowed his thoughts to wander once more. This time, however, he was not as agreeably engaged as he had been before in thinking of Miss Elizabeth and her fine eyes. Instead, he found himself wondering how she might react to his sister and her unique appearance.

With no small amount of trepidation, he realized that he would first need to explain how his sister's scars came to be before any such introduction could be made. It was a story very few people knew in full but himself. Mrs. Reynolds and Richard were the only other two. Mrs. Annesley, Lord and Lady Matlock, and a few servants were aware of some of the circumstances, but not all of them.

He tried to imagine Elizabeth's expressions if he were to relate the entirety of of the tale. As he did so, the memories washed over him, just as clear as if they had occurred the day prior.

"Master Fitzwilliam!"

Mrs. Reynolds' surprised cry echoed throughout the vast cavern that was Pemberley's front hall. Her face was stark white, and the terror she felt was evident in wide eyes that engulfed her face. If the moment hadn't been so serious, Darcy might have smiled at the normally stoic housekeeper displaying more emotion than he'd ever seen.

"You cannot bring the young miss here!" she cried, wringing her hands. "Your father has strictly forbidden it! You risk her safety by -"

"My father is dead," Darcy cut off the housekeeper's words before she could say any more. "He was stricken down by a heart attack in London four days ago."

The woman's eyes closed in relief, and her shoulders sagged. "May God rest his soul," she murmured.

Darcy bit back the retort he yearned to make. Instead, he looked down at his eleven-year-old sister, who was cowering behind his back, her mouth and nose wrapped with a scarf so that only her eyes were showing. "Georgiana, dearest," he said in a soft voice, "this is Mrs. Reynolds. She was our mother's lady's maid, and now she is the housekeeper here at Pemberley. She will help take care of anything you may need."

The girl nodded, but made no noise.

"Is she to live here, then, sir?" Mrs. Reynolds's voice was filled with hope.

"Yes," Darcy said firmly. "That is why I sent my guest ahead of me. I trust Doctor Carson arrived yesterday and has been attended to?"

"Yes, sir. He has been placed in the guest wing, in the blue chambers."

"Excellent. And the nursery has been cleaned out, like I requested?"

"Yes, sir. I must admit, sir… I had thought it for a different reason."

Darcy looked at her, startled, then chuckled slightly. "No, Mrs. Reynolds, I have not married, nor am I setting up my nursery. It is for Georgiana. She is not used to being around many people, having been at the dower house with just Nanny all this time."

"Is Nanny not coming with her?"

Darcy's face hardened. "No, she is not." His tone left no room for further questions.

"Very good, sir."

"Have Dr. Carson come meet Georgiana and myself in the nursery in one hour. Also, have the maid Lily attend us. She will be assigned to Georgiana until further notice."

"Yes, sir."

A quarter of an hour later, as Darcy was showing Georgiana some of the books he read himself as a child, a light scratching came at the door. "Enter," he said loudly.

Lily, a young maid of about fifteen years of age, gently opened the door. She was very tall, with a thin frame, bright red hair, and freckles. She curtsied and said. "You wished to see me, Master Fitzwilliam?"

"Yes, thank you, Lily. Please come in and sit down. How is your family doing?"

The girl entered and sat gingerly on a stool before saying, "Busy. Pa is working hard to get everything ready for the spring planting. He says this winter was wetter than usual, and it has him a mite worried. Ma tells him since there's nothing he can do about the weather, he needs to start talking less and start praying more."

"They both have valid points. How's your youngest brother, Frank?"

Her face sobered. "He's still having a hard time eating, but his mouth is healing better."

"Anyone giving your family - or him - any trouble over it?"

She shook her head firmly. "No, everyone has been right kind to us. They all seem to know someone else who had a bad mouth."

A loud gasp interrupted the conversation, and Darcy and Lily both turned to look at Georgiana. The girl's eyes were fixed on Lily, one hand up at the scarf around her face. She then turned and looked questioningly at her brother, who nodded and said, "That is why I have requested Lily to tend to you for now. Her brother was born with a harelip. You've seen her talk about her brother; what do you think?"

Before any response could be made, a loud knock came at the door, which was still open. Dr. Carson stood at the entrance to the room and asked, "May I come in?"

"Ah, excellent timing, Doctor. This will save me the trouble of explaining twice. Yes, please come in and join us."

As Dr. Carson came in the room and took a seat on one of the small chairs - prompting a giggle from Georgiana - Darcy made introductions between all four people. Once everyone was settled, he said, "Dr. Carson, I appreciate your willingness to come all the way from London with very little explanation."

"You said that it would be something that would test me to my utmost abilities. I'd heard of your reputation long before you began to sponsor me, Darcy; I would have come if you'd asked me to treat your servant's cold."

Darcy gave a surprised laugh, and Lily beamed at the doctor. "Master Fitzwilliam is a much better man than his father, that's for sure."

"Lily!" Mrs. Reynolds's scandalized voice came from the doorway, and the servant gulped at the stern tone.

"M-my apologies. I don't know what I was thinking. My ma is always telling me my tongue runs away with me."

Mrs. Reynolds's face softened slightly. "Well, considering the fact that Master Fitzwilliam is now Mr. Darcy - and that what you said is entirely accurate - I shall allow it to pass. But only because it was said in the present company. Any such comments to anyone else in the future, and I will not hesitate to turn you out on your ear, whether or not your mother is my sister!"

Lily gulped and ducked her head. "Yes, Mrs. Reynolds."

The housekeeper turned to Darcy. "I daresay you will be the best landlord and best master Pemberley has seen in a long time, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I can only hope to be the man my father raised me to be… before he went mad."

The room fell silent, then Darcy turned to his sister and said, "Georgiana, I am going to ask you to be very brave now. We haven't had much time to talk about this. I've asked Dr. Carson here because I believe he can help fix your mouth. Would you like that?"

Georgiana's eyes widened, and she nodded eagerly. Darcy gave her a gentle smile. "That's my brave girl. Now, we are going to talk about you and your appearance. I know it will be difficult to hear, but please remember that I love you very much. Mrs. Reynolds loved our mother, and Lily loves her brother. Dr. Carson cares about his patients. All of us in this room are here because we care. Do you understand?"

The girl paused, then nodded again, but this time with much less assurance. Darcy knelt down next to his sister's stool and placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Now, I am going to remove your scarf so that Dr. Carson can see what needs to be done. Your looks may surprise the people in this room, but that is only because they won't be used to seeing it on someone your age."

Lily let out a soft gasp and glanced towards Mrs. Reynolds, who gave a slight nod. Darcy ignored the exchange, keeping his eyes focused on his sister. "Remember, I told you that there are people born like you, but they get fixed as babies? Our father wouldn't allow it for you. Now that he is dead, I can try to make it happen, and that's why Dr. Carson is here."

Georgiana hesitated, and her eyes developed a shimmer of tears. But she squared her shoulders and slowly began to unwind the fabric from around her face. When the final wrap fell away, there was a collective gasp.

The young girl's upper lip, usually the smooth, unbroken line in a child's innocent expression, was instead marked by a deep symmetrical split, mirroring itself in a bilateral gap that extended like delicate fissures from her softly pink lips up toward the base of her nose.

It was as though nature, in a moment of whimsical artistry, had drawn two crescent moons that mirrored each other perfectly on her face.

Her nose, too, bore the signature of this unique design. The base, where one usually finds a smooth transition to the upper lip, was instead slightly elevated, giving her nostrils a more pronounced appearance. This unusual formation lent a certain uniqueness to her profile, an interplay of shadows and contours that was both intriguing and unexpected.

As she shifted uncomfortably under the gazes of the adults around her, her small mouth opened slightly with each breath, the divide in her lip becoming more or less pronounced with her movement.

"My god," Dr. Carson breathed. "A double harelip on young lady. How is she even alive?"

"Nanny," Mrs. Reynolds and Darcy said in unison.

"Mother died two hours after Georgiana was born," Darcy said. "Nanny took charge of her care, using a one of the sponges dipped in goat's milk that are used for orphaned kittens. She devoted hours to keeping her fed, day and night. Once Georgiana could sit upright, she could be given gruel with a spoon."

"Why wasn't a surgeon called for?"

Darcy shook his head. "My father… he wouldn't allow it. There was… well, he had lost all reason the year before. I was only thirteen years of age when Georgiana was born. I pleaded with my father, just as I had the year before, but he refused to allow anyone except Nanny and myself to ever see Georgiana."

"Good God," Dr. Carson uttered, horrified.

"When I found him in his study four days ago, dead… well, I knew my sister could finally be free. I immediately wrote to ask you to go to Pemberley, even before I sent for my father's own physician."

Dr. Carson shook his head in disgust. "Well, you certainly meant it when you said this would test my abilities."

He took a few steps closer to Georgiana, who was still sitting on her stool, watching the adults with wide eyes. She shrank back slightly as he approached, and Darcy placed a hand on her shoulder. Dr. Carson smiled gently at her and said, "Hello, Miss Darcy. I imagine you have had a rather difficult time eating and speaking."

She dipped her head, and he said, "I would like to try to help you, if I may. Would it be alright to come closer and look at your mouth? I promise it will not hurt in the slightest."

Georgiana dipped her head again, and this time, she did not flinch when he came towards her. Dr. Carson examined her lips from several angles, asking her to open and closer her mouth, and even to blow her nose. After ten minutes, he said, "The very excellent news is that it is only her lip that is affected. The palate is entirely intact."

"What does that mean?" Darcy asked.

"It means that top of the inside of her mouth is not split open, which is often the case with a harelip. Since it is only the soft tissue, I believe I can repair it. It will be painful, however. It is why we do it in infancy; the baby does not remember the pain."

Darcy looked at Georgiana, who nodded vigorously before he could even open his mouth to ask. "Are you sure, dearest? It will be painful."

"I will need to cut the healthy tissues of the lip, then stretch and pull them down and sew them together. They will heal together, thus filling in the void that is missing between the nose and lip. It will cause two large scars that may never fade, but it will allow her to eat, and to eventually learn to speak."

Georgiana nodded again, this time even more ferociously.

What followed was hours of surgery, days of laudanum, weeks of recovery, and months sobbing pain as Georgiana's skin was cut, stretched, and torn time and again in order to repair the harm their father's madness caused.

Through it all, Darcy never left her side.

The sounds of Georgiana's cries of pain echoed Darcy's mind until the water had long grown cold. It was only when he began to shiver slightly that he realized how late it had grown. He stood from the bath, exhaustion setting in, and he stumbled from behind the screen and through the door into his bedroom.

Orange flames danced in the fireplace, and the room was comfortably warm. Darcy ignored the bed clothing that had been laid out for him. Too weary to bother with putting anything on, he fell onto his bed, completely naked.

The weight of the next day's burdens pressed down upon him, almost suffocating him in the feather mattress. He wished Richard weren't stationed so far away, and he whispered a silent prayer. God, You must bring him back safely. I cannot bear this burden alone.

Elizabeth's face flashed before his eyes, and a quiet voice in his mind whispered, You don't have to be alone.

As he drifted off to sleep, a pair of fine eyes and a pleasing figure appeared before him, equally unclothed, to plague his dreams.