I have edited this chapter, and added a little more content! It does not affect the plot in any way, though.

Chapter Three

16 October, 1811

"Shit!" Lizzy cursed as she accidentally struck her foot against a rock. She was only thankful that no one was around to hear her. Jimmy Lucas, a little boy of around ten years old had used 'Blast!' in front of his mother and sisters, and the Bennet women when the former family visited for tea, to the seeming horror of everyone present in the vicinity. Everyone except Lizzy, that is. For one thing, was blast even a proper curse? Lizzy had heard a lot more profanity at college than she had from Jimmy. But Lady Lucas and Mrs Bennet seemed to think that even such a mild curse was a great offence, and had reprimanded the poor boy and sent him to the nursery, pronouncing him 'unfit for polite company'.

Only then did Lizzy begin to understand how important propriety and etiquette was in this world. Mrs Bennet—no, Mama, she had to think of the woman that way—had already told Lizzy off for hitching her skirts too high while she walked. She'd only brought it up her ankles, for God's sake! Was that, in any way, improper? She'd chafed against Mama's nasally voice scolding her, but the latter had already moved on to Kitty, who had been slumping in her fatigue. Slowly, Lizzy began to realise that the 'Sit still, look pretty' part was only a facade. There were far more annoying things hidden underneath the surface.

Lizzy had no idea how she was going to keep up with it.

And that's why she didn't blame 1811-Lizzy for her so-called rambles across the countryside. She had actually been delighted to discover that it was a habit of hers. Mama hated this habit with a passion and had made it clear at supper yesterday. Instead of getting ridiculously irritated as she had been doing the whole day whenever Mama lamented her 'hoydenish ways', she'd discovered a method of escaping this little house full of strange people who were supposed to be her family. She'd thought she could get through this. It would be easy. All she had to do was to curtsy whenever she saw someone else and use posh language that she usually associated with Shakespeare or such authors.

She couldn't have been more wrong.

In one day, Lizzy had made the discovery that while her body retained its poise and other etiquette matters which had become basic reflexes, she, as an individual, couldn't have been less ladylike. She'd tried to follow Jane as she embroidered, but had ended up with botched up stitches. Her quick strides were described by Mama as an 'elephant's gait' and she was ordered to stop immediately. And she couldn't even count the number of times she'd said something wrong or improper throughout the day. She only hoped that no one's suspicions would be raised by her erratic behaviour.

The only respite she'd received from the never-ending cycle of propriety, giggling and trivial gossip (most of which seemed like utter nonsense to her—after all, she didn't know most of these people that Mama and the girls mentioned) was when Papa—Mr Bennet—had intercepted her when she was wandering aimlessly through the narrow halls, in the evening, and said, "Lizzy, I have not seen you in the book-room all day. Well, well, are you enjoying your Mama's fluttering?"

Taking that as an invitation, Lizzy had thankfully slipped into the book-room—which looked like a small public library in its own right. She didn't know many of the titles, but she did have a penchant for Shakespeare. Mr Bennet seemed to be up for a good debate on Julius Caesar, the title that Lizzy had apparently been reading before the switch happened. Lizzy gladly gave in—it was her favourite Shakespearean play. And so, the evening had passed pleasantly. Apparently, 1811-Lizzy wasn't as dull and compliant as she'd originally thought. Old Lizzy was a cut above the rest and she was quite knowledgeable, maybe not as much as modern Lizzy was, but definitely more than her sisters. This made her job a bit easier.

However, her evening of debating on Brutus and Caesar and the plot with Papa was rudely interrupted by the dinner bell. She was brought back to reality with a bang during supper. Mama had screeched throughout the meal, Papa had assumed his mask of indifference again (which rather infuriated Lizzy), while Jane was completely distracted by making sure that the younger girls behaved properly. Lizzy supposed that she should help her elder sister, but all she could do was to remain frozen in her seat and look at the tableau taking place around her.

She had felt as if she was slowly going mad.

So, when she'd risen at dawn the next morning (Old Lizzy's biological clock included waking up annoyingly early), she had fumbled with what she prayed was a morning dress, slipped into the walking boots which nipped at her toes (how was this in any way beneficial for long walks?) and headed out of the house. Lizzy had stared at it for a little while, the small mansion which seemed so alien and new to her. Hell, she'd only learnt its name after supper yesterday, when Mama launched into her rant about the 'Longbourn entail'—whatever that was supposed to mean. How was she supposed to learn twenty years worth of history, memories and acquaintances? What was she supposed to do?

Lizzy had turned away, ignoring the tears pricking at her eyes.

Now, she sat on a mossy rock in the woods, nursing her injured toes, the stupid walking boot abandoned on the lush grass. Lizzy wiped her frustrated tears away from her cheeks. Nothing was going right. She might have fooled her family into believing that nothing was wrong with their Lizzy, but what about the others? Miss Lucas certainly seemed suspicious when she didn't address her by her first name. Nor did she like it when Lizzy did not remember Mr Preston's marriage to the erstwhile Miss Goulding.

Indeed, Charlotte Lucas had told her as they parted, "Something is not quite right, Lizzy. You do not remember. It is almost as if… as if you are a different person." Lizzy had paled at that, shook her head vigorously and assured that it was not so. But her words and laugh seemed so fake to her own ears that she doubted that Charlotte was fooled.

How long would it be until everyone began to realise these small inconsistencies, this complete loss of memory? And how many days would pass before Mr and Mrs Bennet abandoned her as a mentally ill woman and admitted her to an asylum?

Stop it, Lizzy. You're being irrational. You will get through this and figure out a way to get back to your family. She chastised herself. She rubbed her cheeks furiously, hoping that it wasn't too red and blotchy, sniffed for a bit and cradled her head in her hands. She looked at the scene around her and had to admit that it was particularly beautiful. The sky was clear—a rarity in the modern world with the excessive pollution—and the fresh air of the woods seemed cool and fragrant in her nose. It was a beautiful place, one where you could sit for hours and lose yourself in your thoughts.

And that was exactly what Lizzy did. For the first time in two days, she allowed herself to think of her family, living in a time which she would probably never live to see. Of Dad's kind smile and brilliant blue eyes, of Mom's effusions and endless enthusiasm and of Jane's kind smiles and rare smirks—whenever her wicked humour showed itself. She missed them, so much. Lizzy cursed herself for her stupid wish. What were her reasons for wishing for an entire shift in her life? Fatigue, exasperation with her job and her mom's behaviour, heartbreak over her Dad's worsening disease? How cowardly and trivial that seemed now.

But, after a moment's contemplation, Lizzy shook her head. No, her reasons went deeper than that. They were darker, more desperate. But she wasn't willing to admit it. Hell, she hadn't been willing to admit how much he and the events following her relationship with him had affected her, turned her into a cold cynical woman for five years now. However… she realised that subconsciously, she was desperately wishing for a world where he didn't exist.

Scenes flashed past her eyes, screaming, the sound of glass shattering, the sharp smell of blood and dark streets. Lizzy covered her ears with her hands, hoping it would stop, begging it to stop. Please…

"Miss?" A deep baritone voice interrupted Lizzy's steady descent into her personal hell. "Are you alright?"

She looked up, hoping that the pain in her eyes wasn't visible to this stranger. There were two gentlemen, mounted on two large (and rather intimidating) horses. They dismounted, seeing that she wasn't quite in her right mind (in more than one way, Lizzy thought with bitter amusement) and bowed. Lizzy stood up and returned their greeting with a clumsy courtesy, hoping that the moss hadn't stained her pale yellow gown.

There was silence for a while until Lizzy remembered that one of them had asked her a question. Embarrassed, she said, "Yes, thank you. I—I merely felt unwell for a moment during my walk. Thank you for your concern." Her speech was awkward, but she hoped that it was satisfactory.

Apparently, it was, because the red-haired man—gentleman—answered with a cheerful grin, "Well, we are glad to hear it. I would be quite dismayed to find a lady falling ill within my new property."

"New property? But… this is Long—oh gosh, this is not a part of Longbourn, is it?" Lizzy groaned. She knew that she shouldn't have ignored that half-broken fence. The man with darker hair frowned at her as if trying to figure something out. Lizzy bit her tongue. Had she slipped into modern speech again? Whatever his reason for staring at her, his blue eyes certainly made her nervous.

"Indeed not, madam, but do not distress yourself. You are quite welcome here in Netherfield." It was the redhead who spoke again. Apparently, the dark-haired gentleman's concern did not extend beyond asking if she was well.

"You must be Mr Bingley!" She gasped, realising that this might be considered improper (because, honestly, everything was improper here) and continued, "Sorry, that was quite rude. I'm Elizabeth Bennet… of Longbourn," she added after a pause, remembering how Jane had introduced herself to Mrs Newton, a guest of the Long family they had encountered in Meryton.

"No, no, it did not offend me in the slightest, for I am Mr Charles Bingley. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet." He beamed, and Lizzy couldn't help but smile back. He seemed like a cheerful bloke. "May I introduce you to Mr Darcy, a dear friend of mine." The person in question bowed deeply, prompting Lizzy to offer yet another badly done curtsy to the two men.

"Likewise, Mr Bingley." She bit her lip, shuffling a bit to quell her nerves. "Er, I must head back to Longbourn, for I've been gone too long and my family might worry. I do hope that we might further our… acquaintance on another occasion, Mr Bingley, Mr Darcy." And with a quick smile, Mr Bingley assured her that he would be delighted to do so. Lizzy liked the cheerful man instantly.

His companion, however… Mr Darcy had kept silent through the whole exchange, only frowning at her as she wrung her hands and shifted her weight from one foot to another. He intimidated Lizzy as if his disapproval (because that was the only reason he could be glaring at her like that—because of his disapproval for her… er, unconventional and somewhat unladylike behaviour) increased her nervousness.

Lizzy's anxiety increased as she offered them a final curtsy. What did they think of her? She certainly didn't speak as properly as she should have. Nor were her manners as graceful as Jane's. Oh God, she was going to worry herself into a tizzy over this. As she prepared to leave, Lizzy raised her hand to bid them goodbye, but suddenly realised that it wasn't done here to 'wave her hands frantically' as Mama had put it.

She drew her hand back immediately, looking over her shoulder to see if the gentlemen had noticed. Mr Darcy had, apparently, because he was still watching her. Lizzy smiled at him awkwardly, blushing furiously at her faux pas. She hoped he just thought it was a nervous tic or something. Lizzy doubted that her awkward gesture would hold any significance for that silent man. Right?

Lost in her thoughts, Lizzy traced her way back to Longbourn, somewhat relieved that she hadn't slipped entirely into modern language (even though there were some words that she would change if she had the power to do so now) or done something clumsy and ungainly while talking to the first men she'd met outside her family (but that parting half-wave! Lizzy prayed to the gods above that they ignored it). Honestly, after this interaction, all she wanted to do was lock herself up in a room and never come out to this ridiculously 'proper' society.

And to think that it was one of the only conversations she'd held outside the Bennets and the Lucases.

Oh well, this was going to be quite difficult, wasn't it?

Lizzy was so engrossed in her worried thoughts as she made her way through the uneven terrain that she didn't notice the deep blue eyes of a dark-haired man following her as she manoeuvered through the maze of rocks and grass towards Longbourn. She also didn't notice the small, quizzical smile appear on Fitzwilliam Darcy's face because no woman had intrigued him quite so much in such a short encounter, as Elizabeth Bennet.

I'm back! I'm sorry for the late update, but today is rather an important day for me - Easter Sunday and April Fool's Day. You can imagine my son's excitement in the morning, although it was mostly for the latter event. :P So, yes, I was busy and I couldn't upload this.

This is a one-scene chapter, but Lizzy does meet Darcy! I'm sorry if it's anticlimactic, but Darcy is a bit reserved (as we all know) but Lizzy did leave an impression on him.

But if you think that their interaction is going to be as mellow and mild as this throughout the story, boy, are you wrong. ;)

I hope that the small insight into Lizzy's previous life is interesting. There's a lot of depth to my Lizzy, and this is a part of her - an important one. Please comment on your thoughts, speculations or whatever is running through your mind! I absolutely love to hear from you!

Review Responses:

Guest 1 - This is the first review for Ch 3. No, Darcy is not a counterpart for Lizzy's 21st-century boss. He's grumpy, but perhaps not downright horrible like Lizzy's boss, don't you think?

Guest 2 - I hope that snippet about the Lucases and Charlotte showed how her missing memories are affecting Lizzy! Playing the piano will definitely be an ordeal for her (but she hasn't realised it yet!) and singing too, but to a lesser extent, since a trained voice will become an acquired reflex. But for the lyrics, well... ;) About the books, well, since Jane Austen's books (sadly) don't exist in this world, her knowledge would be limited to the Brontes and other contemporary authors. So yes, her knowledge is quite limited. We've seen this through the first few chapters to a far lesser extent, but as we go, her ignorance and prejudice (she calls the society 'misogynistic' after all) will affect her greatly. I'm so glad that you like the story!

Guest 3 - I'm so glad that you like the story! Oh dear, dancing is going to be quite a disaster for our poor Lizzy!

ale - It was no trouble! And I hope that my writing does your interest in the story justice. :)

Guest 4 - Thank you! I hope this update is soon enough for you!

em - Thank you, I'm so glad you enjoyed it! And yes, I'll write a spinoff for Regency Elizabeth in the modern era, since you'd like to read it. :D

~ Lynn