The storyline, new character development, new events, and new characters are my intellectual property. Glorioux

a/n hope you are all liking it, I am...

1812- Kent months earlier- Fate intervenes-

Lizzie had to marry Mr. Darcy after the infamous and humiliating proposal. Darcy was quite upset when she rejected him. Hearing she would not marry him if he were the last man left alive was too much. Something came over him, and he didn't mean what had happened. All he wanted was to kiss her at least once. He pulled her into his arms, bending her as his mouth searched for her lips. Though she wasn't sure why, she not only allowed him to kiss her, but her hands moved up to his shoulders; he was much taller than her.

He set her on fire; his tongue licked her lips as he pressed his hips onto her. When she opened her lips to him, he lost any control he had left. His hands went everywhere; one caressed the tops of her breasts while the other hand pressed her body against his. Not thinking, he moved his body against hers, sliding his fingers under the cloth covering her breasts. Lizzie wasn't resisting; both were inside a fog of lust.

Neither saw the mist surrounding them, nor heard distant chants, nor saw the shape of a gate, with lights and symbols, in front of them; neither heard a voice saying in old English, "Finally, all will be well; it will soon happen." Meanwhile, Collins was sent to look for Darcy. The chants said, "Back, we will be one again, no longer in pieces."

At first, Collins couldn't see well; he thought the chimney's flue was blocked, but he smelled unusual scents. He thought he heard voices. As he walked into the small drawing room, he could see better. The oil lamp was lit, and, there, against a wall, he saw them. Mr. Darcy held Miss Elizabeth in a scandalous embrace, moving against her. He had never seen a kiss like that; the strumpet who turned him down kissed the rich Mr. Darcy. The scene made him hungry for Lizzie; never had he been so aroused, making him feel awfully angry, making him want he was Mr. Darcy. He wished she was his wife not the one he had; he felt murderous.

Hence in a zealous fit of righteousness and jealousy, the sycophant, Lady Catherine's toady, walked to them to tap Lizzie's back. "Stop your witchcraft, you lascivious strumpet, Jezebel!" He yelled.

Darcy, much taller than Collins and very fit, let go of Lizzie and punched him, busting his nose, "How do you dare miserable worm?" This happened right at the second when Charlotte and Mariah came in.

Charlotte walked to Lizzie and slapped her cheek. "You are a fallen wanton, a strumpet," Charlotte screamed as she fixed to hit a stunned Lizzie once again.

Darcy grabbed Charlotte by her shoulders, "Don't you ever dare to touch her again, insolent woman," he yelled and pushed Charlotte away, making her fall on top of Mr. Collins. Mariah, watching, applauded, laughing with glee. She detested Mr. Collins and was mad at her sister over something or other.

Lizzie stood frozen in shock, her clothes and hair in disarray, her cheek reddened, wondering why his kiss had awoken such feelings; she was wet and warm down there. She realized she would have allowed him more, but why? She despised the man. She ran to her room and started packing, but she couldn't stop crying. Mariah knocked at the door and entered the room; "Lizzie, my dear, don't worry; I will tell my parents they were lying. They had no right to insult you."

"Thanks, but in the morning, I will walk to the inn where the coaches stop." Lizzie didn't believe her, but she was wrong. From there on, Mariah, the gossiper, was her staunch defender. "I will go with you. I've wished you were my sister since I can remember."

When Mr. Collins, holding a cloth over his nose and a limping Charlotte, reported to an outraged Lady Catherine. He told her of the voices, the mist obscuring the room, the scents declaring Lizzie used witchcraft, calling her Jezebel.

Lady Catherine wanted Lizzie gone at the crack of dawn; in the meantime, she could sleep in the stables. William who had listened, declared, "Don't, this worm interrupted a most private moment. Miss Elizabeth is marrying me. He insulted her, and his insolent wife slapped the woman I would marry and called her awful names. I will not come back here while they are in your employ. Miss Elizabeth is going with me back to Longbourn to talk to her father, and Miss Mariah will accompany us."

Knowing the Lucas sisters were gossipers, Lizzie knew she had to accept him. Again, she was wrong about Mariah, who told her parents about Mr. Collins' audacity and Charlotte's jealousy. The mortified parents took Mariah's side when they were invited to the rushed wedding. Mariah was later invited to Pemberley, which made the Lucas believe Mariah.

Mr. Bennet told her not to marry and that he would claim his rights, whatever they were, but Lizzie said she knew the Lucas sisters. Well, she was wrong. She didn't know Mariah, who was quick to dispel any rumors, earning the Bennet's gratitude. It turned out that Lizzie became Mariah's heroine, whose loyalty never waned.

They married by special license; her father and sisters were crying after spending a day begging her not to marry him. Mariah told her again to trust her, but Lizzie continued to ignore her. As for her father, he had a lot of secrets, secrets Mr. Collins knew.

Mrs. Bennet wasn't boasting about Lizzie's new husband. She knew better. Her husband told her he would leave if she did; it was a sad occasion. The love he had felt for his wife was long gone, replaced by contempt. Her beauty and passion were not enough, even less after Jane was born, and so much happened. He stayed for his daughters, but nothing else. Lizzie was but a shadow, accepting her new husband's kiss. She allowed him on her bed, but the passion wasn't there; she kept hearing his despicable proposal. Sometimes she wanted his caresses, but his attitude stopped her.

Mr. Darcy was still condescending, treating her as if she were less than him. It was so until the last three days had opened his eyes when he found her packing her trunk, only what was hers. She was leaving him. Her father, the newly minted Lord, was picking her up.

Mr. Bennet was a third son of a title father, but he'd stayed away from his family because his father was a cold man, and his much older brothers were mean and abusive. Thomas Bennet's mother, his father's third wife, a foreigner from Northern Europe, was treated badly. His handsome father often laughed, saying he found the foreign witch and had enamored her for her needed dowry. Unfortunately, the large dowry she brought didn't change how others viewed her.

The tall and pale Nordic wife, with a beautiful face and odd-colored hair, was called a witch and other choice names. She left the day when Thomas went to Cambridge. When she asked Thomas to go with her, he said England was his home. She gave him a box for the daughters he would have. She asked him to come when he was ready. He would know when. She said she had married because it was necessary. She added one day, he would understand.

Thru a quirk of fate, he became the heir to the large fortune but didn't want to claim it after his father and older brothers had made his life hell. He was often beaten and called names because of his nordic looks. The fortune wasn't worth it since the homestead was filled with bitter memories. But after Lizzie married, Mr. Bennet decided to go back and fight for his inheritance; he wanted to get his favorite daughter back.

He still corresponded with his mother as often as possible, she had always known about Lizzie, and what happened that strange day.

Pemberley- Months Later

Darcy knew he should have listened to Richard, "You will lose her if you continue; your pride rules you. When she leaves, I will be there to pick her up; you are forewarned. Bart says he will help her get an annulment; you are a fool; if not me, Bart says he would like to try to win her. Bart is looking for a wife after Susan died."

Darcy reminded Lizzie she was pregnant; she argued her father knew and wanted her back. They, her father and sisters, were going to meet with his mother. That day, they had a big argument, so she decided to go for a walk, though it was cold and starting to rain. Georgiana cried, "If Lizzie leaves, I will go with her. She is the sister I always wanted. Richard says you think she is less than you; frankly, I would also leave if I were her."

This day Lizzie left her medallion in her room. Lizzie walked fast, blinded by the rain and the tears, not looking where she stepped. She was in the middle of a natural amphitheater made of trees surrounding the area. She was in a place she had never seen before, where flat rocks covered the ground, forming a usual shape. The stones were wet, so she slipped and fell backward, hitting her head on one of the granite slabs. Her spirit left her body, and she saw herself in a moving carriage right before the car exploded in flames. 2022-Lizzie felt a pull to somebody on the ground, herself. She lost consciousness, and all went black.

Darcy called Lizzie, despairing when he heard the dog that had appeared some weeks before. He hurried towards the bark and saw Elizabeth on the ground, inside the area everyone avoided. She was wet, and her head was bleeding. He cried, ran, and kneeled on the wet ground; she smelled different, of fire and something like lamp oil. He knew the smell. It was fuel. "Elizabeth, are you okay? My love, don't die, please don't die on me; please forgive me. I didn't want to make you upset. I have been a fool. Richard is right."

He had two large handkerchiefs, tied them together, and expertly placed them around her head to staunch the bleeding.

He noticed she was carrying odd bags and a very expensive foreign satchel across her chest; they triggered memories, and her clothes, were not hers, but that couldn't be. She dressed like a man, sort of, but no less beautiful. Her laced multicolored shoes would be hard to hide, but he would try to hide them. Her hair was not tied, she had shorter hair, not to her waist, and a strange half bun held with sticks. Mostly, the color seemed wrong.

Her hair used to be a color he had never seen before, the color of brass. Now her hair was lighter. No, he saw under the bandage; it was the same, but on top, it was several shades. He decided to hide all she had, including the bracelet with lights. He had his reasons for hiding her things. Then, he wrapped her in his coat while tears flooded his eyes. He tied the satchel under his thick cardigan. The bags were locked since he had no idea how to open them; he remembered they needed a number sequence. He also hung them across his back and picked her up, covering her face with kisses and tears.

The dog kept an eye on him and Lizzie, looking distrustful, growling on and off. Strangely, his Lizzie and bags load felt weightless.

Pemberley was in old Druid ground, and the area where he found her was avoided by all. Strange tales about magical people were abound; some said the Vikings worshiped there, and there was a gate to somewhere. So, he decided whatever had happened, didn:t matter because she was alive. He had many odd memories since the time he fell from a horse after being hit by lightning. Mrs. Reynolds knew what to do, when she saw him carrying his wife. So she nodded, her eyes bright with understanding, taking her shawl off to cover Lizzie some more.

Mrs. Reynolds had given him a few things from that day when he was hit with lightning, including clothes, shoes, and other items. She had tended him with her nephew's help, and dressed him properly. Mr.. Darcy locked her clothes, along with strange, enticing undergarments and also her jewelry. He placed them in a secret area behind a wall, where he had hidden his things. But the earrings couldn't open.

That day he fell from the horse, he remembered opening his eyes and having an odd memory of his wife nearly naked, sitting with George, also almost naked. In that memory, his Lizzie was George's. They were in some place with a blue sea and Roman baths, but outside. He couldn't take his eyes away from her, wanting her for himself. His body was on fire, with a throbbing erection, and he didn't like when George kissed he, and he wanted to take her away from George. Miss Bingley was also there, displaying her nearly naked body, trying to entice him, making him wish the Bingley siblings hadn't come along.

In that memory, he saw George kissing another woman in a dark place full of colored lights, and they got into a fight. He told George he didn't deserve his Lizzie, and they had a heated argument. He also told George to be careful, or Lizzie would be his; it was confusing.

In his memories, Charles had made comments about his wife that angered him, something about Lizzie being good shag material, weird. Later, he had George investigated and warned him again. More than warned him, William Darcy had decided to see Lizzie when he was back from somewhere and pursue her, as he told George. He was going to make her his wife. He also remembered an explosion, someone called him, and he followed.

No, he would not let anyone have her. It would destroy him. Not in a dream, or in a magical memory, nor now, not ever. It wouldn't happen.

a/n oh no