Above portrait of Elizabeth and Augustus.

I started off the new year sick. Spending the first day of 1958 between my bedroom and the bathroom. Nausea came in waves. My parents had the doctor staying in the house until I was better, him checking in every hour and trying to prescribe scary sounding medicine. Tar based cough suppressants and cigars to help with nausea were just two.

The one good thing about the bug was that it kept Charlie away. He had shown up eight more times since the Christmas party trying to talk to either me or my father. He was very persistent and even tried to meet me in the hall on my way out of my room. He wanted again to talk about mine and Abe's finances and wouldn't let me pass. So I did the only thing I could think of. I threw up on him. He didn't come back until a week later after that.

It has been 15 months since I woke up in that ditch beside the road. October 12th 1756, a date I will never forget. Sometimes I wish that my false memories I created were real, but I've come to accept that they weren't real. I can't let that hold me back anymore, I need to make the most of this reality. That is why I've decided to make my own money. Father has finally transferred the 1,000 acres of land and property he promised as a bride price. I have been managing and collecting the properties on my own. Already bringing in a large sum of money. I almost have enough to buy some extra property. If I keep these wages up, I will be able to purchase the land to build our estate on in a little over a year. When Abe gets back he will be so proud of me. I know its a longshot but I would like to even have the house built before he gets back. He would be so surprised.

I was sitting in the drawing room, sipping on some tea with honey in it to soothe my sore throat; the last remainder of my illness. Margaret barges into the room smacking straight into a maid who in the kerfuffle dropped the teapot. It didn't smash but only spilled all over the rug. Margaret cried "oops" then dodged around the maid straight for me. She looked excited- more so than normal.

"Ellie you will not have assumed what has happened." She gushed. Before I could reply she continued, "Prince George has sent an official letter announcing his interest and intention of courting me! Who would have thought I Margarite Dufort would be courting a prince. If that goes well, which of course it will, because why would it not, I will be married to a prince, and then as soon as his father dies I will be married to a king. A king! Can you believe that, Ellie?"

"Well I congratulate you on your future marriage."

She gave me the stink eye, "It is going to happen, I can guarentee it."

"Alright, if you believe so." I said skeptically.

"But anyway we are going on a stroll together and then for tea this Saturday. It is going to be quite the event so of course I will need you to help me plan," she enthused.

"I will, Margaret, I don't mean to be rude but..." I swallowed hard, trying to get rid of my raspy feeling throat," my throat is very sore, I don't want to talk anymore."

A look of dawning spread on her face. "Oh I forgot, but your mother is waiting for you in the library," She exclaimed.

Frusterated I sighed, "You could have said that when you came in."

Margaret looked taken aback, "Well excuse me I thought you would have wanted to hear about the Prince of this country's interest in me, your dear cousin."

"I will hear about it later. At the moment though I need to see what my mother wants," I said, setting down my half drank tea and lethargically trekked out of the room. Whatever my mother wants it will not be a easy or quick task. Hopefully it will not be with dealing with someone new. I am not in the mood.

I enter the library. My favourite room had been changed. The chairs and tables had been shoved roughly to the side and two stools in front of a backdrop had been set up. On one of the stools looking uncertain of the current situation was my little brother, Augustus. When he saw me he stood up quickly, knocking the stool over and running to give me a hug. An annoyed looking middle aged man with greasy brown hair reset the stool.

"Augustus, what a pleasant surprise. What are you doing here?" I inquired after Augustus had quickly pulled away. Duchess Hemerton strolled over, placing a gloved hand on Augustus's shoulder.

"For the portrait of course," she answered.

I looked between the two of them, "What portrait?"

Mother gestured to the man who was setting up a easel, "The portrait that Mister Davies will be painting of the two of you. Surely you must remember it being mentioned?"

"No Mother, I think I would have remembered that a picture would be painted of me," I muttered.

"I must have at some point mentioned it."

"No Mother I don't believe you have," I sighed, frustrated.

The man called from the back, "My time is valuable, Duchess Hemerton. I must request that we begin at once."

Duchess Hemerton's eyes combed over my loosely done hair and lack of makeup and settled on my what she called 'poverty stricken dress.' She sighed, "It will have to do I suppose." She guided us to the stools. She tried to fix my frizzy hair and pinched my cheeks to add colour to them. I swatted her away. The man then came to position us and adjust our clothing and whatever else he was displeased with. Then he got started. It was uncomfortable the way he stared at us with such searching eyes. Wherever his eyes settled either on my arm or my face, I got the intense urge to hide it from his view. Looking sideways at my brother, he seemed to be struggling with the same thing.

"Do not move!" He exclaimed after moving minisculy. I opened my mouth to respond and he snapped,"Do not speak either!" Half of me wanted to move purposefully just to annoy him, but I resisted the urge. It would just make this process so much longer.

Watching the grandfather clock in the corner was literally the most entertaining thing to do. After about half an hour of not moving my arm started to shake from holding it so still. I didn't get to place them in my lap like Augustus but he had positioned them so i was holding the neckline of my dress. It better be almost freaking down or else I am moving.

I was able to hold it for an extra hour before I gave up. Well I didn't truly give up, I decided to see if I could slowly bring it down without him noticing. So through a painstaking process that took fifteen minutes I slowly moved my hand down. His eyes trailed from my brother who he had been studying for a while to me. He looked at me then my hand, then his painting, then to me again. I held in a chuckle.

His eyes squinted suspiciously, "You moved," he declared.

I feigned a look of surprise, "I have not moved for two hours sir. Besides you surely would have seen me." he squinted again but went back to his painting.

An hour later, Mr. Davies set down his paint brush and palette and sighed. "You both may leave. You have been excellent models, thank you."

Augustus leaped from his seat, "Oh goodness, I thought I would die of boredom!" he announced. "Can I see it Mr.Davies?"

"No! You may not! I do not let anyone see it until it is dry," he barked.

"Why?" I asked.

"You are not an artist,girl, you would not understand," he snapped rudely.

"Lady."

"What?" he asked.

"I am not a girl. I am a Lady."

He scrunched up his mouth like he was trying to hold in words, "I apologize, Lady Elizabeth."

"Can we see the painting, please?" Augustus insisted.

"I am afraid I can not allowed it, young sir. But I am sure you will be able to see it in the morn." Disappointedly, we both left the room.

That morning as we came down into the grand entrance, a new painting had been placed beside the one of my mother and father when they were young. The maids were just finishing placing the large painting on the frame and were still adjusting it when we noticed it.

One of the maids smiled politely to me and Augustus, "You look beautiful as always in the painting Lady Elizabeth and Master Hemerton you look quite dashing. May I ask what were you thinking about Lady Elizabeth because you have such a thoughtful look."

"Oh, thanks and I'm not sure," I said shyly. It was actually probably that it had been an hour now and I'm tired. I turn my attention back to the painting scrutinize myself in the painting. He made my jaw more pronounced and my skin paler than what it is. My hair looks darker and more curly as well. I feel like he photoshopped a picture of me. He also corrected the bit of acne that both Augusts and I have. It bugged me. It was something that we were not. I looked over at the picture of my parents beside it. My mother thin and stunningly beautiful and my father looked like power and influence radiated from him. How much of that was faked?

But I have to admit, the painter did a marvelous job.