Sir Carlisle

Title: Sir Carlisle
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandoms: Pride and Prejudice / Twilight Saga
Pairings: Darcy/Bella, (past) Jane/Bingley
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 2k
Warnings: time travel, what happened to Edward and Alice?, no Elizabeth Bennet, Caroline is so catty
Summary: Bella goes to call on Caroline Bingley in London.  Someone she doesn’t expect is also there.

Sir Carlisle

Bella did not want to call on Caroline Bingley.  She did not particularly like her, but Carlisle insisted, and when he insisted, it was best that Bella do what he said.

Taking the carriage, she rode to Park Street. 

Looking up at the house, Bella sighed and allowed the driver to set her down.

“Miss Swan for Miss Bingley,” she told the servant, handing over her card.  She had cards now.  Carlisle insisted that every eligible young lady of society had cards.

Left in the hallway, Bella thought she heard movement above stairs.  She looked up and saw a shadow.  Squinting, Bella thought she saw it move.  Living with Carlisle Cullen as her protector meant she was used to shadows.  He was often lurking places where she least expected him.  She half thought that he enjoyed it.

She took two careful steps further into the hall and looked up again, annoyed at the brim of her bonnet.  There, the shadow was there.  And just for a moment, she caught a decidedly male hand against the banister.  Someone was in the house and regarding her.

It was then that the servant came out and allowed her entry.

“Miss Swan,” Caroline Bingley greeted, getting up from her seat and coming to kiss her on the cheek.  “How happy we are that you should come to visit us.”  Caroline took Bella’s arm and led her to the couch.  “You know my sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst.”  A young woman in pink silks was sitting a little further off, her hair as auburn as Caroline’s, freckles upon her nose and cheeks.

Bella took the offered seat next to Caroline and found a young woman sitting opposite her.

“Oh, forgive me,” Bella greeted, remembering the manners Carlisle had so carefully taught her.  “I do not believe we’ve been introduced.”

“This is Miss Jane Bennet,” Caroline told her carefully.  “She is an acquaintance from Hertfordshire.”

Bella turned to Caroline with a look of surprise on her face.  From what she understood from Caroline, the interlude in Hertfordshire had been a disappointment.  “Indeed?”

“Indeed,” Louisa Hurst told her, leaning forward slightly.  “Jane, Miss Swan is the ward of the most eminent surgeon in London, Sir Carlisle Cullen.”

Jane Bennet’s eyes widened. 

“He is only the night surgeon,” Bella corrected, accepting a dish of tea from Caroline.

“No one is more sought after than Sir Carlisle,” Caroline objected.  “It is rumored the Prince Regent has consulted him on the health of our dear sovereign.”

Bella blushed at this.  Carlisle had gone to the palace the week before.  “I could not possibly comment,” she demurred.  She understood from Carlisle that the king’s condition was a complicated one, but she had sat him down and told him everything she knew from the history books that could possibly help him treat King George and he had not only been surprised, but grateful.

“How do you come to be Sir Carlisle’s ward, Miss Swan?” Jane Bennet asked quietly.

“He is my godfather,” Bella lied, telling her cover story.  “The Cullens and the Swans have been friends for generations.”

“It is old families like these,” Louisa said pointedly to Jane Bennet, “that are the bedrock of English society.”

Bella could see that a message was being passed and none too subtly.  There was something wrong with Jane Bennet’s family.  That much was apparent.  Bella wondered what it was. 

She looked carefully over at Caroline Bingley, who reached over and placed a hand over Bella’s—a silent message.

“I think my aunt shall be wanting me,” Jane said after a moment, standing.

Caroline and Louisa, and Bella after the briefest hesitations, stood with her. 

“Thank you so much for the tea.”

“Not at all, Miss Bennet,” Caroline told her archly.  “Thank you so much for informing us that you are in London.”

Jane hesitated for the barest of moments and then left, leaving Bella alone with the Bingley sisters.  She held back a sigh before resuming her seat.

“I apologize if I interrupted, Miss Bingley—”

“You interrupted nothing,” Caroline assured her.  “Miss Bennet is an unwanted acquaintance from Hertfordshire.  We had to receive her for the sake of politeness.  It is good that she is gone now.”

Bella briefly thought of Jessica Stanley and Lauren Mallory.  “I quite take your point,” she said after a moment.  “I hope you are well otherwise.”

“Quite well,” Caroline returned with a smile.  “How are you enjoying the Little Season?”

Bella was not enjoying the Little Season at all.  Carlisle was always out with his patients and Bella could not attend plays without him and she did not want to go to public balls—which seemed to be all Carlisle was interested in attending when he was at home.  He seemed to think that as Bella was now his responsibility in the early nineteenth century, that the best course of action would be to get her married and have her married well.  Since Edward hadn’t turned her in the twenty-first century, he took this as proof that she was not actually Edward’s mate, so Carlisle would not turn her himself.

When the conversation had turned to lace, a topic that Bella dreaded, a gentleman entered the room.

Bella stared at him.

He was exceedingly tall with curling brown hair, broad shoulders, and the greenest eyes she had ever seen.  She could not imagine how he was related to the Bingley sisters given their slight frames, auburn hair, and freckles.

“Ladies,” he greeted.

“Mr. Darcy,” Caroline greeted coolly.  “Should you like a dish of tea?”

“Yes, thank you.”

He came more fully into the room and regarded Bella.  She looked up at him with her large brown eyes and blinked.

“This is Miss Isabella Swan,” Caroline introduced, “Sir Carlisle Cullen’s ward.  She is lately come to London.”

“Your guardian’s reputation is unimpeachable, Miss Swan,” Darcy complimented.

“Yes,” Bella replied, carefully taking a sip of her tea, “we are all quite proud of him.”

“The Cullens,” Caroline was now telling Darcy, “and the Swans have been friends for generations.  Sir Carlisle is Miss Swan’s godfather.”

“Although he was only seven when he accepted the office,” Bella added with a small laugh, making it a joke.  “We quite grew up together, as brother and sister.”  Carlisle had her putting this about so there would be no rumors he would be marrying her himself.  “I am certain he could tell a tall tale of me and my dolls.”

“I am certain it would be nothing but enchanting,” Darcy told her, and all three women turned to him at the compliment.  Louisa was staring at him in amazement, Caroline in curiosity, and Bella in wonder.  Darcy held Bella’s gaze, his look admiring though his lips were pressed together in a line.

Louisa cleared her throat.  “Darcy has a very beautiful estate in Derbyshire.  His mother, the Lady Anne Darcy, was very contented there.”

Bella glanced over at Louisa.  “Oh?”  She wasn’t quite sure what else to say.

“Pemberley,” Louisa continued.  “It quite surpasses Lady Anne’s home estate, Matlock, which is the seat of the Earl of Matlock.”

“Is that also in Derbyshire?” Bella asked, turning her attention to Darcy.  Louisa Hurst was clearly talking Darcy up.  Bella now knew he had a fine estate in Derbyshire and that his uncle was the Earl of Matlock.  “I have never been.”

“Yes,” Darcy agreed carefully, his gaze shifting to Louisa Hurst before returning to Bella.  “The Earl and Countess are, of course, here for the Little Season.”

Bella nodded.  “Carlisle insists we go to a ball tomorrow night.”  She sounded vapid and stupid.  “Unless he has a patient.  I can hope my toes are saved by a case of gout.”  She smiled to herself.

“I hope your toes have not been tread upon!” Caroline exclaimed.  “What is the name of this dancing partner?”

“They all blend together,” Bella admitted, setting down her teacup.  “Carlisle thinks me quite hopeless.  He has to inspect my dance card at the end of each ball because I cannot remember who my dancing partners were.”

“That is because,” Caroline told her quite carefully, “no one has caught your eye yet.”

Bella thought back to Edward and wondered what had happened to him.  She had no idea.  He wouldn’t be born for more than a hundred years and by then she would be dead.

“I did make that exact argument to Carlisle, but he insists I pay more attention.  I am certain a surgeon would rather not have a ward on his hands who must engage in the social season, but he unfortunately has the guardianship of me at present.”

“Darcy,” Louisa enjoined, bringing the conversation back to him, “has a sister who will be joining the social season in two years, I believe.  She is quite talented on the pianoforte.”

“Oh dear,” Bella commiserated.  “I hope she is more easy mannered than I am.”  She gave him a small smile. 

His green eyes were really rather striking.  “I am certain you are too hard on yourself.”

“We are our own harshest critics,” Bella agreed, her smile widening.  “Do you not find?”  She held his gaze for several long moments until Caroline seemed obliged to break the silence.

“Which ball are you invited to tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night?” Bella repeated, her thoughts rather elsewhere.  “Um,” she opened her pelisse and took out a little calendar.  Trying to read her scribble, she carefully announced: “Danbury.”

Louisa looked disappointed.

“Did you not receive an invitation?” Bella inquired, confused.

There was an awkward silence.  Bella realized that the Bingley sisters had definitely not received an invitation.  She wondered who Danbury was.  Bella had no idea.  Carlisle handled their entire social calendar and Bella went where he told her.

“I believe I did,” Darcy told her after carefully considering.  “I refused it if I remember correctly.”

“I shall not be dancing with you,” Bella then decided, putting away her calendar and pencil.

“I shall retract my refusal,” Darcy told her assuredly.

Looking up, Bella caught his gaze again.  “I assure you, that is not necessary.”

“I know it is not necessary,” he told her plainly.

“Very well,” Bella agreed carefully.  She looked down in her dish of tea.  She had unfortunately drunk all of it.  She wouldn’t be able to use it as an excuse for something to do. 

Caroline noticed her predicament and generously filled her cup.  That was at least something.

“Is Danbury a house?” Bella inquired carefully.

“Danbury is a person,” Darcy informed her, leaning forward slightly.  “Lady Danbury.  She is the height of sophistication and, if I am not mistaken, is the godmother of the future Duke of Hastings.  The current Duke is in quite ill health and has taken to his country residence.”

“I see,” Bella decided, wondering if the Bingleys weren’t entirely of Darcy’s—and her—social standing.  She wondered why Carlisle was so insistent on her visiting.  If she asked, he probably wouldn’t tell her.  He was mysterious like that.  “I shall look forward to meeting Lady Danbury.”

“I look forward to seeing you there.”

This seemed like a natural conclusion to the visit.  Bella stood and curtseyed to the room, telling Caroline and Louisa to please visit and that “her day was Tuesdays.”

When she went out into the hall, she waited for her carriage to be called and looked up at the banister.

“You shall not find me there,” Darcy said from behind her.

She turned and smiled at him mischievously.  “It was you then who was spying on me.”

“I was spying on Jane Bennet,” he admitted.  “She is an unwanted acquaintance.  I wanted her gone before Bingley returned.”

“Oh dear,” Bella admitted.  “Is it as bad as that?”

Darcy offered his arm and she took, as Bella knew that was only polite, and he led her down the hallway. 

“Gentlemen do ask young ladies to dance,” Bella philosophized, “but sometimes it’s the young ladies doing the chasing though I imagine the constrictions of society make it particularly difficult.”

“I imagine, Miss Swan,” Darcy reasoned, leaning down to create a sense of intimacy, “you do not have to do much of the chasing.”

She looked up at him, biting her lip, her violet eyes wide.  “Not in London,” she admitted.

The footman held open the front door for them and Darcy escorted her out.  Her carriage was waiting and Darcy lifted her in, his hand holding hers for a moment too long.  “Good day, Miss Swan,” he murmured, his green eyes shining into hers.

“Good day, Mr. Darcy,” she whispered in return, before the door was closed and the carriage was told to “drive on!”

The End