NOTE: Our heroine refers to Mr. Darcy as “Fitzwilliam,” which is of course his first name, and to her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam by his own given name, James.

Chapter One: The Meeting At Ramsgate

It is a consequence of being the younger sister of a wealthy gentleman that one has little freedom, however kind one’s brother might be, and that one knows very little of the outside world and its vices, nor cares to.

Georgiana Darcy reflected often on this during the trip to Ramsgate. Though Ramsgate, as Mrs. Younge was so eager to assure her, was a place of fair weather and temperate sea, Georgiana did not know these things for herself. Therefore, she quietly let Fitzwilliam and Mrs. Younge make the travelling arrangements.

Mrs. Younge was a sallow, thin woman who was, perhaps, a little obsequious. She now interrupted Georgiana's meditations. “Look out your window, Miss Georgiana, and you will have your first glimpse of the sea.”

Accordingly, Georgiana looked.

She had expected that the sea would somewhat resemble the lake at Pemberley—glassy, grey and serene. Instead she beheld a tossing, foamy body of water, that was indeed grey, but also blue and green by turns. There were birds in the air, that reminded Georgiana of the swans on the lake, for they were white coloured, but these were smaller, and when they opened their short, curved beaks emitted a wild, piercing shriek.

Georgiana loved it.

An hour later Mrs. Younge and her charge disembarked at their place of lodging. As Georgiana had finished unpacking her clothes and personal possessions, her governess knocked at the door and, without waiting for an answer, entered upon Georgiana. “Miss Georgiana, a visitor has just arrived for you.”

Georgiana was mildly surprised. She wondered who could possibly be calling. Fitzwilliam was in town on business. Perhaps it was cousin James Fitzwilliam or, less likely, their aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh?

No, it could not be Lady Catherine, as Georgiana and her party had just two days ago visited her imperious relative in Kent.

“Please, tell Betsy to admit the visitor,” she told Mrs. Younge, and went to wait in the parlour.

Presently a quick step sounded on the stairs, and a young man entered the room. He wore the garb of a well-to-do gentleman, and wore his long blond hair tied back with a ribbon. His kind blue eyes were the same colour as the sea in Ramsgate. As Georgiana, rising from the obligatory curtsey, studied the handsome features of the gentleman before her, she felt that there was something quite familiar about them.

The gentleman raised an elegant eyebrow at his young hostess, and inquired in a pleasant voice, “Miss Georgiana, you do not recognise me?”

Then Georgiana knew all at once who her visitor was. “Why, Mr. Wickham!” she exclaimed, as he politely kissed her hand. This gesture, although not out of the ordinary way of society etiquette, sent a chill through Georgiana that was not from the sea. “What a pleasant surprise! Will not you sit down?”

Mr. George Wickham was the only son of the Darcys’ late steward. Wickham and Fitzwilliam were in fact contemporaries, having grown up together; and until recently they had both been at Cambridge; however, Georgiana had not seen him since she was ten or eleven, and thus regarded him fondly from her childhood.

“You have become ever prettier since we last met, Miss Georgiana,” smiled Wickham. “It is five years, is not it? You are, I believe, now seventeen?”

Georgiana suppressed a furious blush and smiled demurely. “In truth, I am not yet sixteen,” she corrected him.

Wickham stood and bowed. “My mistake.” He then offered Georgiana his arm. “Pray accompany me on a stroll along the seashore?”

“With pleasure,” replied Georgiana.

Later in the afternoon Georgiana remembered that she had promised to write to Fitzwilliam the day she arrived at her destination. Thus she prepared her desk, mended her favourite pen, and began her letter.

My dear brother,

We called in at Rosings as promised.

Our cousin Anne was unwell—

Georgiana sighed a little here, as what she wrote of their cousin was not at all an unusual occurrence.

--and kept to her room. However, Mrs. Younge and I took luncheon with Lady Catherine before continuing on our journey. Our aunt had messages for you that I will pass on when we next meet.

Mrs. Younge and I are now well settled in our lodgings, and Ramsgate is a most delightful place.

Georgiana sat quietly for some minutes; then, upon finding that she had nothing else to say at present, resolved to finish her letter another day.

It was not until Georgiana lay in her bed that she thought of writing to her brother about their mutual friend, Wickham’s, visit. Perhaps she would write of it tomorrow…

XXX

Over the course of the first week at Ramsgate Georgiana spent much of her time in the company of George Wickham. On Thursday they took a carriage together about the surrounding countryside.

“At almost sixteen,” said Wickham reflectively to Georgiana, “a wealthy, lovely young woman such as yourself must be considering marriage. As a child-hood confidant, you may be assured of my discretion: have not you any one you favour?”

Georgiana paled, but said only, “No; there is no one in my heart.”

“Then,” said Wickham, turning towards her, “might I persuade you to allow me to fill in that space, to elope with me?”

Georgiana very nearly fainted with joy; however, she replied quietly, but with a lively smile, “Yes, you might.”

Then suddenly she broke into a delicious peal of laughter. Clapping her hands, Georgiana exclaimed, “Oh, how pleased Fitzwilliam will be—”

“No!” exclaimed Wickham sharply. Then he smiled at her, and took her hands in his. “No, do not write a word of it to him. Think how he will be even more pleased when we surprise him with the established fact.”

That night, Georgiana finished her letter to Fitzwilliam:

We are walking every day along the front by the sea to watch the ebb and flow of the tides. We have also taken a carriage out into the country; there are many pretty lanes and woods to see round about.

I am very much enjoying the opportunity to renew my acquaintance with a gentleman whom we are both familiar with. He knows Mrs. Younge quite well, and is just as delightful a companion as I remember him.

Georgiana paused, and confided in Fitzwilliam a small doubt.

He says that I should not tell you anything of his being here, which seems a little strange. I have not seen him for more than 5 years, when he returned to Pemberley with you while you were both at Cambridge.

If I say that his name begins with W, I shall not be breaking my promise to him to keep our secret.

Your loving sister,

Georgiana.