by any other name ( continued from here ) || for @in-singh
Peter wasn’t sure how he came to be in attendance at the introduction of the Princess into London society. Actually, this was not the case. His sister, not yet nineteen years old, was going to be debuting very soon. As to prepare for such, he was accompanying not only his sister, but their Grandmama, Lady Blanche Collins, who, after a restful break in the country with her grandchildren was eager to rejoin society herself. Blanche was currently seated in her mobile chair, clutching her binoculars in one hand and Peter’s coattail in the other.
Not much time passed before the beginnings of God Save the Queen erupted from the orchestra behind the crowd. Peter felt his sister take his hand and he gave her a supportive glance. Her time was rapidly approaching. He rocked on his heels and took a look around the room, spotting old acquaintances and many new faces. It became more clear with the more events he attended just why his grandmother lived for them; they were quite fun.
The music soon faded to nothing and the Lord Stewart proudly stepped up at the top of the staircase.
“Her Majesty, Queen Charlotte, and Her Royal Highness, Marina Georgiana Charlotte, Princess of Wales.”
The second Peter’s eyes landed on her, he froze. He dropped his sister’s hand and the cane he had been holding for Blanche dropped to the marble floor with a clatter. Lucky for him, the orchestra had started up again and it had drowned out the offending noise. Peter’s palms perspired instantly and he struggled to regain control of his breath.
“Georgiana?” He quietly breathed, to no one in particular.
She had been in the midst of introducing herself to an older man — a member of Parliament, or a general, or some such honored personage she knew she should have been paying closer attention to — when she caught the sound of her name. Marina turned, and promptly felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, even as her heart began to race.
It couldn’t be…
The memory came flooding back, all in a rush. A night in the country. Warm summer air. She was eighteen, and the world was her oyster. Her best friend at her side. The lights from the house had spilled out onto the lawn. It had been so easy to slip into the party unnoticed, to slip in with the other girls, pretend their chaperones were only one room over. How they had danced the night away...
And him...
Her first dance. And her second, and third. She could still remember the way he’d looked at her with his soft, dark eyes, the warmth of his hand over hers. It had been one of the more magical evenings of her life, one dance after another, their warm laughter mingling with the music. The night seemed to go on forever, between warm secrets and cool drinks. She’d run as the stars began to fill the sky, leaving him only with her middle name -- Georgiana... A half truth to mask the evening’s improprieties. She’d paid for it later, with a hangover and a severe reprimanding from the queen. But there was no one who could have known who she was... No one who might trace the bright eyed laughing girl back to the royal palace...
Until Peter.
She took her time extricating herself from the conversation with the colonel -- now she would have to work twice as hard to remember the man’s name, now that the doctor had knocked it clean from her memory for a second time -- before slowly making her way around the room toward the young man. She avoided Peter’s gaze, instead moving to gently grasp Lady Collins by the hand, offering the older woman a warm and welcoming smile.
“You must be Lady Collins. My mother has spoken quite highly of you. It is an honor to have you here this evening, and such a pleasure to finally meet you in person,” Marina murmured. Her green eyes flicked to the girl at Peter’s side, before rising hesitantly to the young man himself. “And this must be your family. Charmed, I’m sure...”
