“Oh my, are you all right?”
Elizabeth got up, her mind only thinking about how lucky she was that she didn’t have her phone in her pocket or else it would have been chaos indeed.
“Yes, thank you,” she said, grabbing the helping hand and pushing herself out of the muddy water. She couldn’t help but scrunch her nose at the idea of having dirtied her hair.
But once she took a look at her helper, a blonde young girl who seemed no older than 16, dressed in a baby pink simple dress that was pushing onto her breasts in an uncomfortable way, Elizabeth was confused.
“I’m sorry, I don’t want to get you wet or dirty,” she said, stepping back from the clean girl. “I guess I got a bit carried away,”
The older woman was thankful that she didn’t have her phone in her pocket otherwise she would have had a lot more trouble. Her life was strongly connected to her phone, and not for socializing or fun, but because of all the precious notes and phone numbers from work. While trying to squeeze the remaining water out of her hair, she took a long look at her surroundings. Although the garden looked more or less the same, it felt more…alive. There was a man mowing the grass and this pretty dressed girl.
“Has the tour ended?” Elizabeth asked, needing a shower more than anything else.
“The tour?” the girl asked confused.
“Yes. I came here for a tour of the domain with my mother and sister. I came out here to enjoy the view, my sister should be waiting in the car. Is my mother done?” She added glancing at the house. “Are you not working here?” Elizabeth cared to ask since the girl looked puzzled.
“No, this is my house. I live here,” The girl replied with a smile. “I haven’t heard of a tour, we don’t allow guests unless my brother is home,”
Elizabeth glanced at the girl before she turned to the house and then back at the teenager. An idea formed in her head, one that seemed incredibly unrealistic and maybe far-fetched but she decided to ask anyway.
“If this is your house, then is your name Darcy?” Elizabeth asked with a chuckle, finding her question silly.
“Yes, indeed,” The girl responded with wide blue eyes.
Elizabeth tried her best to understand the situation, asses this turn of events and find a reasonable explanation. She looked at the fountain for blood, maybe she hit her head while falling, but there was nothing. She started to search for a wound or bump on her head but again, there was nothing. It was just so odd.
“Can I check something?” She asked the girl, looking more afraid than anything. “Could you help me get to the front porch? The house is like a labyrinth,”
Miss Darcy nodded and grabbed her hand, finding no reason to be wary of this strange woman that she fished out of her fountain. Once they got inside, Elizabeth realized that even if the interior was the same, the art and furniture were in different places from how she remembered. There was an incredibly large vase in the middle of the hallway towards the front door, it stuck with her because the vase was late 19th century compared to the rest, a detail added later on by whoever lived there. But now, that space was empty. Besides, there were people in the house dressed in Regency-appropriate clothing, something that Lyme Park did not include in their family pack.
“Here we are,” Miss Darcy exclaimed with a soft smile.
The front of the house was neat. Elizabeth walked toward the parking area and found it empty. There was no concrete, no pavement, it was just a wide empty space. Then Elizabeth turned to the pond, the famous spot from where Colin Firth broke the hearts of every Austen fan by emerging from the water, wet and sexy, and unforgettable. Lyme Park had placed a statue in the pond, which didn’t give the actor justice, but it was entertaining and again, good marketing.
“There’s no statue…” Elizabeth muttered, her hand getting sweaty.
She turned to Miss Darcy and tried her best to calm her beating heart. If something did happen to her, if she fell and hit her head then she must either be comatose or dead. She preferred the first option mostly because it was reversible. Then she remembered her work and panic returned. She had a gallery to run, she had a private exhibition to work on, and there were so many details that were still not taken care of. Her new sponsor was a secretive person who only showed the art pieces to the curator in charge of his exhibition, who was also a friend of hers. She trusted him, she really did, but it was her gallery and if anything were to happen, she was going to take the blow.
“Are you all right? You look sickly,” Miss Darcy asked with a frown.
If this was her brain trying to entertain Elizabeth while in a coma, then this young blonde girl was a hint of what her brain chose to use. It was annoying because Elizabeth did not like Pride and Prejudice and did not fall in love with Mr. Darcy. It wasn’t the story, it was her mother. Elizabeth could not read or watch or think of Austen without connecting her with the way in which she was raised. Even looking into the eyes of Georgiana Darcy, it was bitter. This poor illusion created in her mind was innocent and yet it reminded her of her childhood.
“I believe we should wait for your brother’s return and then discuss my presence here,” Elizabeth tried to be as polite as possible. “I’m Elizabeth but please call me Liz. It’s a pleasure to make you acquaintance,” She added since she hadn’t introduced herself yet.
