Oh crap, she was right: Elizabeth and Jane would be leaving Netherfield the day after tomorrow, and then I wouldn’t even have her friendly face about the place. Maybe I should leave, too, but where would I go? I had no money, no possessions, and absolutely no clue how to survive alone on the streets of a fictional Georgian England. No,until I could work out how to get back to my own world, I needed to stay in the safety of Netherfield. And for that to happen, I needed Darcy to remember we were friends so the Bingley sisters wouldn’t evict me the first chance they had. He’d been with me in 2026 for ten days, so surely there must be some memory of our time together buried in his subconscious, however deeply. I just had to get him to notice me for long enough that the memory resurfaced.
“Miss Eliza Bennet, let me persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room. I assure you it is very refreshing after sitting so long in one attitude.”
I looked up at the familiar line, and realized that while I’d been lost in my despair, Jane had left and Miss Bingley was now parading up and down the room. Elizabeth got up to join her, and I watched as Darcy lowered his book and observed her walk. This was a scene I loved inPride and Prejudice, but as much as I wanted to sit back and watch it play out for real in front of my eyes, I knew this was an excellent opportunity to catch Darcy’s attention and trigger his memory.
“Mind if I join you?”
I was on my feet before I knew what I was doing. Miss Bingley wrinkled her nose in displeasure, but I ignored her as I took Elizabeth’s other arm and joined their promenade. As we walked, I looked at Darcy, but his eyes were on Elizabeth as if Miss Bingley and I weren’t even there. Damn it! If I was going to get Darcy to notice me, it seemed I needed to more actively join the plot, even if it meant interfering with one of my favorite scenes. Desperate times called for desperate measures…
“Would you care to join us, Mr. Darcy?” Miss Bingley asked as we passed his place in the room.
“Thank you, but I can think of only two motives for you choosingto walk up and down the room together, and I fear my joining you would interfere with either of them.”
“What could he mean, Miss Bennet?” screeched Miss Bingley. “Can you understand his meaning at all?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to respond, but I got there first. “Not at all, but depend upon it, he means to be severe to us, and our surest way of disappointing him will be to ask nothing about it.”
I sent up a prayer of thanks to the BBC circa 1995 for embedding this scene in my mind, so I knew I was pretty much word-perfect. I glanced at Darcy to see if he was looking at me, but he was still watching Elizabeth.
“Mr. Darcy, pray explain to us what is the meaning of your words,” Miss Bingley demanded, right on cue.
“I have not the smallest objection to explaining them,” Darcy said. “You either choose this method of passing the evening because you are in each other’s confidence and have secret affairs to discuss…”
At this, I saw Elizabeth raise her eyebrows almost imperceptibly; clearly, she had nothing she wished to discuss with Miss Bingley. Darcy continued, oblivious.
“…or because you are conscious that your figures appear to the greatest advantage in walking; if the first, I should be completely in your way, and if the second, I can admire you much better as I sit by the fire.”
“I have never heard anything so abominable!” Miss Bingley screeched, and for once, I had to agree with her; I’d never have allowed Darcy to get away with saying something so sexist. “How shall we punish him for such a speech?”
Miss Bingley was looking at Elizabeth, but again, I got in first. “Nothing so easy, if you have but the inclination. We can all plague and punish each other. Tease him, laugh at him; intimate as you are, you must know how it is to be done.”
Darcy had been watching Elizabeth up until this point, but now his eyes swung to me, and I felt a stab of relief.Yes, notice me, Darcy! Remember you know me, please, because I’m freaking out and desperately need to talk to you.
I waited for Miss Bingley to say her next line, but instead she let out a bored sigh.
“I tire of walking; do let us have some music. Louisa, you will not mind my waking Mr. Hurst?”
She moved toward the piano in the corner, and Elizabeth returned to her seat, leaving me standing in the middle of the room, my mouth hanging open like a fish. What had just happened? I knew this bit so well, and there should have been loads more chat between Elizabeth/me and Darcy, but now it had all fizzled out and Darcy had gone back to ignoring me. With a huff of frustration, I slunk back to my seat next to Elizabeth.
“Miss Bingley is a total pain,” I muttered to her, but rather than respond, Elizabeth turned her back slightly away from me.
I felt my heart sink. Oh shit! On top of everything else, had I just made an enemy of Elizabeth Bennet?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I went to bed shortly after that, accompanied by the Fear triumphantly reminding me that I’d gotten myself trapped in a novel with no obvious way of getting out, Darcy had no idea who I was, plus I’d been a total bitch and undermined another woman in order to get a man’s attention. It was the kind of behavior I loathed in fiction—and in real life—and I vowed that however desperate I was to get Darcy to remember me, I’d never tread on Elizabeth’s toes again.
At breakfast the following morning, I tried to apologize to Elizabeth, but it was almost impossible given that she had no idea she was a character in a book, and therefore had no understanding of how I could have “stolen” words she’d never said. In the end, I mumbled an apology about joining her and Miss Bingley uninvited, and she gave a perfectly civil response. Still, she remained cool with me for the rest of the day, and it was clear I’d pissed her off, even if she herself wasn’t sure why.
I spent most of that second day locked in my room, attempting to read myself back into my own world. I tried reciting different scenes from the story, and I even borrowed a few books from Bingley’slibrary and tried reading those out loud while wishing myself back to Baskerville Books, but none of it worked. My guess was that without Nick’s mum’s copy ofPride and Prejudice, I was stuck. For the hundredth time, I cursed myself for ignoring Nick’s instructions and momentarily wishing I could visit Darcy here. And for the thousandth time, I remembered the feel of Nick’s strong hand as he grabbed me and the way he’d cried my name, until I got so depressed that I told myself I had to stop thinking about him altogether.
Elizabeth and Jane departed after breakfast the following morning, leaving me alone with the Bingley party and Darcy. I kept expecting to be thrown out myself, but for some reason none of them suggested I go, and my continued presence was tolerated, if not particularly welcomed. I wondered if this was because I wasn’t part of Jane Austen’s plot, and therefore none of the characters knew what to do with me? Whatever the reason, I was grateful to still have a roof over my head, and while Mr. Hurst and the Bingley sisters ignored me, Bingley himself was kind, if a bit baffled.
As for Darcy, he seemed completely oblivious to my presence. Every time I saw him, I tried talking to him, dropping references about Nutella orRuPaul’s Drag Racein the hope of triggering a memory, but he kept his answers to a bare minimum and escaped my company as soon as was physically possible. As the days passed, my hopes of him ever remembering me grew fainter and fainter. I was truly alone here.
On my fourth morning at Netherfield, I was sitting in the breakfast room, picking at a plate of bacon and eggs, while the other five discussed people and places I’d never heard of. Just as I was about to get up and leave, I heard something that made my ears prick up.
“I thought I might ride over to Longbourn today and inquire as to Miss Jane Bennet’s health,” Bingley said.
