The Last Always | A Regency Romance

Chapter Three

Her paintbrush made soft scraping sounds against the course fibers of the blank canvas. Browns, reds and burnt oranges brought the dying landscape to life. It was a calming sound, swish, swish, that made her relax.

The air was filled with the scent of decaying leaves which was surprisingly pleasant. The smell of fall. The world would eventually be reborn. Green shoots exploding through the ground. Blooms facing the sun. But for now, it was the end of the year. A comforting, chilly time, where Georgiana could plan the death of her old self and the birth of her new.

It was a natural cycle. Always wanting to change oneself. Add new characteristics, take away problematic tendencies and become an upgraded version.

Georgiana liked who she was, but she also didn't like how incredibly shy she was. It was the one thing she wished she could change. It was one of the reasons why her first Season did not end in whirlwind romance married to a loving husband. Anyone that got close to her, she would clam up. Scared to let them into her world.

Her world was filled with good times and bad, like anyone. But her bad times were really bad until recently. She wasn't always in the big house, with another woman fluttering over her hair. Making sure her waist was cinched, her dress in fashion and wrinkle free, and her gloves perfectly white.

For a while, she was taking care of her father, in a much smaller house. Cooking their two meals a day over a uneven stove, starting when she was three and ten.

Her papa stayed hopeful. Always looking towards the bright side that their house would be rightfully restored to them. That his rightful title, as a Earl, would be bestowed upon him once again.

The claims of an heir that was supposed to have the title, the Wycliff House, and the other properties were founded to be untrue in the house of lords. The publicity that surrounded the scandal was enough to leave a black mark on the family and on Georgiana's reputation.

It didn't bother her, really. She didn't quite understand all that happened with the claims. Just that a distant relative had tried to use a will that was questionable to take it all away from her family. She guessed that this distant relative was her family as well, but he had intended to harm them so she tried to put him in his own box.

He had enough backing from his own friends and acquaintances that everyone looked at her father as the one to be the liar and thief. Many of their friends closed their doors to them. She didn't know of anyone that extended out a helping hand, but her father would never accept charity. He was a proud man.

So while the estate was in question, they left it. Not wanting to stay in a place that was causing so much pain. Leaving it empty until now. The whole situation was luckily resolved by her debut. But they debated on coming back to the home that Georgiana and her two living brothers, one heavenly brother, and her mother once lived in happiness.

Her father, never one to show emotion, had mist in his eyes as they opened the large wooden door for the first time in eight years.

Now, the house sat behind her as she worked on her painting. The breeze caught the escaped tendrils of her long black hair causing them to dance and tickle her face. She smiled. It was comforting sitting on the small hill looking towards the path she walked down every morning.

Leaves crunched behind her and she felt her ears prick up with the sudden sound alerting her of the presence of another being approaching her from behind.

"What a lovely day, don't you say Georgiana?"

It was her father. He was walking with his favorite hunting dog, Boris, who was better inside than outside during hunting season. He licked her palette of paint that was sitting next to her.