Chapter 2

As I woke from my bed, for a moment, I had forgotten where I was, or should I say when I was. The room, with its rustic wooden furniture and dimly lit ambiance, was a stark reminder of my displacement in time. I sat up, the unfamiliarity of my surroundings settling in. Glancing around, my eyes fell on my Kindle, a piece of technology incongruous with the 18th-century setting.

I opened my Kindle to my favorite historical story, where Thomas, now a grown man, spoke fondly of his sister, Rachel. The narrative conflicted with my understanding of the Bennet family dynamics. His sister named after his mother—Elizabeth Bennet—should have perished in infancy, but here, in the story, she thrived and played a significant role. The discrepancy perplexed me, and I wanted to delve deeper into the narrative, but my contemplations were interrupted by a gentle knock on my door.

The young maid, with a polite curtsy, entered my room. She informed me that Mrs. Bennet had graciously offered some of her old gowns for me to wear, and she was here to assist me in dressing. The idea of donning these period costumes daily was daunting, reminiscent of a historical reenactment I attended once, but reality weighed heavier than any costume party.

I accepted the maid's help, silently contemplating my predicament as I changed into the antique attire. As I descended to join the family for breakfast, my mind raced with thoughts of whether I should attempt to find a way back home or resign myself to this peculiar reality.

Breakfast in the Bennet household was a quiet affair. The table was set for three, with Mr. Bennet and Thomas sharing little in common except for a father and son relationship. The subdued atmosphere reflected the somberness of recent events—the birth of a child, the arrival of a mysterious stranger, and the unspoken uncertainties that lingered in the air.

After the meal, I went to check on my patient, Mrs. Bennet. She greeted me with gratitude in her eyes, claiming that her daughter's name would be Rachel in honor of the stranger who had saved their lives. I demurred modestly, aware that the Bennets' version of history was veering away from the one I knew. Yet upon Mrs. Bennet insistence I felt this linger feeling that it was right that the child's name be Rachel Bennet. I can not recall why for a moment I thought it should not be.

I examined Mrs. Bennet, ensuring her recovery was progressing well, and encouraged her to move about the room for a change. The warmth of August necessitated a gentle approach. Once satisfied with her condition, I sought out Thomas to show me where he found me the day before.

As we strolled through the verdant fields, I engaged Thomas in conversation about his education and his favorite books. The young boy's eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he spoke of his love for reading, sharing tales of adventure and imagination. Our conversation was a welcome distraction from the perplexing mysteries of my existence in this era.

Upon reaching the spot where Thomas discovered me, there was little evidence to explain my sudden arrival in this time. I felt a sense of helplessness, a realization that I may be trapped here without a clear path back. With a heavy heart, I returned to the Bennet household, deep in thought about my next steps.

In the solitude of my room, I revisited my supplies, and in a desperate attempt, I unlocked my phone. The lack of a signal for calls disheartened me, but to my surprise, the internet worked. A glimmer of hope flickered as I explored Google and various web pages. However, the inability to send emails or messages left me frustrated and powerless. I pondered my limited options as the reality of my situation sank in.

For six weeks, the Bennet's generously extended their hospitality, allowing me time to acclimate to this unfamiliar existence. I explored the picturesque Oak Mount, savoring the breathtaking view that had captivated Elizabeth Bennet's heart. But as the weeks passed, the novelty of my surroundings began to wane, and a sense of urgency crept in.

The day of Mrs. Bennet's churning and Rachel's christening marked my introduction to the local community. In the church, I observed the arrival of notable figures, including Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner with their daughters Rebecca and France, and the owners of Netherfield, Lord Robert Lee and Lady Catherine Lee, the Earl and Countess of Lichfield. Meeting these characters from the pages of history both fascinated and disconcerted me.

Disconcerted me because I knew the fate of the Earl and Countess of Lichfield. In six short years, a carriage accident would claim their lives, leaving Netherfield without residents to uphold its grandeur. The new owners, having several homes of their own, left it to be neglected and sporadically leased out.

Observing the Gardiner family was fascinating. I couldn't help but notice the dynamics. Mrs. Gardiner already displayed a clear favoritism towards her infant daughter, France, over her older sister, Rebecca. It was a subtle yet heart-wrenching observation that gave me a deeper understanding of France's character, as I had learned from the books. The echoes of future events resonated in the present, revealing the complexities of human relationships across time.

After the services, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet invited me into Mr. Bennet's office. The local midwife's unfortunate demise led to a discussion among the Bennet's and the Earl. They extended an offer—a cottage bordering Netherfield and Longborn, along with sufficient income to afford a servant. A mixture of uncertainty and gratitude filled my thoughts as I contemplated accepting their proposal.

The transition to my new abode brought a flurry of activity. Mrs. Bennet's determination to ensure my comfort manifested in the generous donation of her old gowns and the arrangement of a servant to assist me. The quaint cottage, nestled between Netherfield and Longborn, became my new home.

As I settled into this unexpected chapter of my life, questions lingered. Was this a mere deviation from reality, or had I become a part of a divergent timeline? The uncertainties of time travel echoed in my thoughts, leaving me to navigate the complexities of the past with an uncertain gaze towards the future.

Interesting true fact in my research. The Earl and Countess of Lichfield are real people and only had 2 Earls and their house really did end in 1771. That is all I have to say. I probably wont stay accurate to the time period at all. But I am going to try...