A/N: This is my first Pride and Prejudice story (not my first fanfic, mind you), so I hope you enjoy. This part one of two. Constructive feedback welcome. So start reading already!

Georgiana Darcy loved the springtime. The sun peeked its timid head over the slowly greening trees a bit earlier each day, and Georgiana found herself awakening in accordance. It was always cheerful to stroll through the halls of Pemberley early in the morning. The candelabra's were polished and glinted in the brilliant morning light. The aroma of beeswax and silver polish tingled as it mixed it her nostrils, and a smile crept to her face. It was as if the house, just like the animals that inhabited the forests of the estate, was lumbering out of its deep winter's slumber. In Georgiana's mind, it was a beautiful transformation.

As she quietly ambled through the beautiful corridors of Pemberley, none of the servants paid her much mind. Then again, many of them remembered the erratic behavior of her brother over the past year and a half, or so, and found her own sweet countenance of little notice or worry. Erratic. The word pained Georgiana for some reason, but that was what he had been. One minute the kind and gentle brother whom she had always known, the next, preoccupied, anxious, and short-tempered. No one would have guessed it to be the symptoms of love.

Ah, Fitzwilliam. That was one of the other reason Georgiana loved the springtime. Her brother also emerged from a sort of hibernation, casting off the heavy burden of work that buried him during the winter months, and also the fatherly disposition that knitted his brow and made him age 10 years before her eyes. He was her brother, not her father, Georgiana would remind him patiently, and should act thus.

Over time, she had noticed that the time of year when the flowers began to bloom was when Fitzwilliam was particularly apt to shed his overbearing sense of duty by the wayside and join in her company with a livelier disposition that suited him well. Georgiana looked forward to these picnics and carriage rides and meandering walks through the estate in his company.

Of course, now there was Elizabeth. Anyone could see the change she had brought to the mood that surrounded Pemberley. The springtime happiness that Georgiana had so treasured now flowed much more liberally, imbedding itself even in the once dower trappings of winter. And her brother's happiness was highly contagious.

Mulling all this over in her mind, Georgina had the sudden desire to chat with her brother. It was a bit rash, she debated to herself, but early rising was a habit they had long shared, so it was no worry to wake him. When Georgiana had been younger, much younger, it was an almost daily occurrence, these morning conversations, whenever they were both at Pemberley. That was the other time she could count on him being a doting brother, early in the morning.

For some reason, it was just the thing she desired.

Drawing her shawl more tightly around herself, not as much for warmth as for comfort, Georgiana proceeded to Fitzwilliam's study. He had always reminded her of what he like to call his "open door" policy, which at the time Georgiana had thought was a rather misconstrued name because even if her brother's door wasn't literally open, she was still welcome to come in. Then, she had only thought to question the name Fitzwilliam had given it. Now, several years since she had last employed the policy, she dearly hoped it still applied.

Upon reaching the double door at the entrance to his study, Georgiana paused and sighed deeply, assuring herself of her own courage. She raised her hand to the gold plate on the left hand door and push ever so slightly. Georgiana peeked timidly through the opening between the doors, expecting to find Fitzwilliam sitting at his writing desk, pen in hand. What she saw instead shocked her greatly.

Before her stood the two people whom she revered the most, Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, pressed tightly against each other and engaged in what Georgiana surmised to be a passionate kiss. The early morning sunlight bathed the couple in a warm honey glow, and Georgiana could not draw her eyes from the scene, though she knew continuing to watch would be most improper and disgraceful.

Yet she stayed there, peering through the crack in the doors, quite entranced by the behavior she was witnessing. Time seemed to slow as Georgiana observed every nuance in their behavior with conflicting awe and guilt. But then she saw Elizabeth raise her hand to her brother's chest, and the acute danger of being caught washed over Georgiana. That was what the heroine always did to persuade her beau to end a passionate kiss in the romance novels Georgiana read by dim candlelight after Mrs. Annesley had succumbed to sleep. She let the oaken door swing closed as quietly as she could and then took off, as fast as her feet would carry her, without breaking into a run, back to the safety of her own chambers.