Attempting Elizabeth by Jessica Grey Page A

have been a blood bath. Cat fight extraordinaire . No survivors.
    Mrs. Younge and I both stood up in surprise as he came into the room. I’m guessing that Mrs. Younge’s surprise was a little bit less of the pleasant variety than Georgiana’s would have been. Darcy bowed to us both and then turned a broad smile toward me. I almost died right there on the spot.
    I’m his sister. His sister. His sister. I feel nothing but sisterly affection, I lectured myself sternly as he walked toward me, hands outstretched and warmly took my hands in his. Sister! Sister! My brain screamed as I tried not to melt into a puddle of goo.
    “Georgiana,” Darcy said, still smiling warmly down at me. His eyes were insane. They were hazel, but really they were almost a deep, olive green with a ring of velvety brown around the iris. “I hope you are well.”
    I peeled my tongue off the roof of my mouth and opened my mouth to respond. What did Georgiana call him? You’d think I would have been more prepared, after all I knew he was on his way. I guess I was so excited at the prospect of seeing Mr. Darcy that I hadn’t thought through the fact that I was going to have to actually interact with him.
    “Yes, I am well, Fitzwilliam. What a surprise to see you here! I did not know you were coming.”
    His smile faltered, just for a second, as he looked down into my eyes. Oh my god, he knows!
    “Here, Sweet, sit down,” Darcy guided me down to the settee and then released my hands so he could sit down as well. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Mrs. Younge resume her seat, except that she sat poised on the very edge of the chair, almost visibly shaking with nerves.
    “Is something wrong, Georgie?” Darcy asked in a lowered voice, his amazing eyes still searching my face.
    Yes, I thought a bit desperately, something is very wrong. I’m not Georgiana, but a girl from hundreds of years in the future trapped in her body. Oh, and you’re fictional. You don’t really exist. But I’m horribly, horribly attracted to you and cursing the crappy luck that landed me here as your sister instead of the girl you love.
    Out loud I managed, “Nothing is wrong, brother, but I have some very exciting news.” I could still see Mrs. Younge out of the corner of my eye, but pretended to miss the violent shake of her head. Oh well for her...the truth was about to come out.
    Darcy’s expression became even more concerned. “What news?”
    “I am to be married!” I injected as much excitement as I could into my tone and pasted a bright smile on my face. This was a scene that had to be played well: Georgiana, thrilled to be engaged then heartbroken to find that Wickham was a cad. “Are you not happy for me?”
    Darcy stiffened, and his expression changed from concerned to cautious, and then almost blank. It was like watching a mask come down over his face. I wondered if this is how he presented himself to Elizabeth and everyone else: slightly removed from it all, as if he didn’t care. Having watched the transformation, I could tell that he did care. He cared too much, but was desperately attempting to project an air of neutrality. It was defensive mechanism. He wasn’t expecting good things from Georgiana’s announcement, but he must think it was better for her to see him blank than angry.
    He seemed to be choosing his words with care. “I want for you to be happy, of course.”
    “I am happy, brother, even more so now that you are here. Now, of course, I see that it would be foolish to go off to Gretna Green. We should be married at home. That would be ever so much better, even if it means having to wait.”
    I felt horrible. It was like sticking a knife in someone and then turning it this way and that, trying to cause the most damage. I could see the flare of shock and anger in his eyes when I mentioned Gretna Green, but his face remained impassive. And I wasn’t even done hurting him yet. This part sucked.
    “I am glad I have come when I have.