A/N - So sorry for the delay getting this up! I spent half of yesterday on a train, thank you random delays and re-routing, and so uploading a new story got pushed back.

This is the start of book 5 in this 6-book series and we are picking up right where A Visit to Scotland left off: with everyone en route to Pemberley, except for the one person already there, of course...

Georgiana Darcy could not sit still. She had attempted reading, and playing her beloved piano, and later settled to sewing, yet still found her attention straying.

"Your stitches are so neat, Miss Darcy!"

Georgiana smiled at the compliment, although she was little surprised by it. Her companion, Charlotte, was a kind creature but seemed able to do little other than admire Georgiana for her every action. There were compliments upon compliments for every move Georgiana made. I wonder if that is part of being a companion, she wondered idly. Charlotte was a relatively new development in her life at Pemberley and had been engaged, Georgiana knew, on the whim of her brother in order to prevent his sister from succumbing to loneliness. I would far rather William had kept his money and come here himself, she thought, jabbing with irritation at the stitch before her. She caught her thumb with the needle, and winced, before throwing the poor sewing aside.

"It is no good, Charlotte!" she said, with a sigh. "I cannot pretend to be interested in embroidery this morning." She stood, and walked leisurely to the wide windows that overlooked Pemberley's entrance. "I am much more interested in our friends' arrival."

"Did Mr Darcy make any suggestion of the time you might expect your visitors?" Charlotte asked, retrieving the discarded sewing and laying it neatly in Georgiana's work-basket with its neighbours.

"He merely said today," Georgiana said, squinting into the distance as if she might sooner discern the arrival of a carriage.

"And he does not accompany them?" Charlotte stood, and slowly joined Georgiana by the window. At her companion's wordless command, Georgiana straightened, taking a lady-like step back from the window and folding her hands uselessly at her waist.

"No, he remains in Scotland with Elizabeth - that is his new wife, you know." She sighed, turning the name over in her mind. "My new sister."

"I am sure they will come soon," Charlotte said, encouragingly. "And think of all the new skills you might demonstrate when they do. Your music comes along admirably, and your sewing -"

At this, Georgiana laughed.

"My brother will scarcely notice whether my stitches are correct, let alone how elegant and neat they are." She arched an eyebrow. "Or are not. Dear me, Charlotte, do you think gentlemen care for domestic arts? Music, I can understand a certain appreciation of, for everybody enjoys to hear it played and played well. But sewing?" She shook her head. "No, I need not fear my hatred of stitching be discovered and remarked upon by my brother, for William shall hardly give it a second thought, if he thinks of it at all."

Charlotte said nothing, merely smiled tautly and turned her attention back to the window. Georgiana felt sorry, then, for speaking so freely. Her companion had little in the way of a sense of humour, and she rarely knew how to react to Georgiana's self-deprecation. Perhaps she fears it is indicative of my slide towards melancholy, Georgiana thought. But she was not melancholy. Oh, she had been. She had cried quarts over George Wickham, but at least part of that devastation had been the memory of William's face upon their discovery. He had looked so disappointed, but not in her, as she discovered later. He felt that what had happened was his fault, that he had failed her as a brother and as a guardian, for allowing things with Wickham to develop as they did. And then, once the situation was remedied, William had left again, as if he thought his presence there might make matters worse. He had sent Charlotte Parker in his stead, and Georgiana's life had become an endless number of days peppered with the sorts of pursuits that might make a young woman accomplished, but did little to spark happiness.

She could not help but worry that her brother's decision to again delay his return to Pemberley was evidence of his still-conflicted feelings towards her now. Why can we not be friends the way we used to be? she thought, staring blankly out at the deserted approach to Pemberley. For they had been friends, as well as being brother and sister. Or in spite of it. She permitted herself a small smile, recalling how, until quite recently, they had enjoyed spending time together, ignorant of the differences in their age or natural interests. She tolerated Darcy's expostulating on business or shooting or all manner of other gentlemanly pursuits, learning, as she listened, how his pastimes encouraged strength of mind as well as limb, and skill at managing that would ensure Pemberley's continuing to thrive long after their father's death. He had not merely tolerated but encouraged her to talk often and in detail of her developing musical tastes, and had always been quick to encourage her to play for him. She had learned to tell, from the tilt of his head this way or that, the enthusiastic glint in his eyes or the polite grimace that passed for a smile, whether he approved of a piece of music or not. She would choose accordingly, then, depending on what trials the day had given him. The ease of their being together had vanished in one short visit to Ramsgate. With one look the spell was broken and now, it seemed, William could not bear to be with her by himself. He could not bear to be with her at all, for his last note, the note that announced the arrival, today, of Mr Charles Bingley and his sister, had suggested Georgiana might care to continue on with them to their destination, Mr Hurst's estate, Lattimer Place, some three miles' distance. It had felt, at first, like banishment, for every reason her brother had included in his note she dismissed out of hand. A change of scenery…Miss Bingley longs for your company…Elizabeth and my arrival may be a little delayed…

She knew William well enough to know when he was not being entirely truthful. Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them back. We do not want you here. My wife and I prefer our privacy. You are a constant reminder of my failings as a brother.

"Here comes their carriage!" Charlotte exclaimed, pointing into the distance, and Georgiana drew in a shaky breath, willing her emotions back into check. She would have time to consider all this at length later, she decided, pulling her features into a smile, ready to meet her guests.