Excentryke's Musings

Title: Vignette
Author: ExcentrykeMuse
Fandoms: Pride & Prejudice / Twilight Saga
Pairings: (pre) Darcy/Bella, (past) Darcy/Elizabeth
Rating: G
Word Count: <1k
Warnings: time travel or dimension travel
Summary: Bella walked through the woods in Forks, looking for Edward—and found someone else entirely

Vignette

Bella walked out of the woods in Forks—and found she wasn’t in Forks any longer.  The sun shone down on a great house that was more suited to Victorian England.  A large lake was settled into the manicured lawns.  She sniffled and wiped the tears from her face.  She wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

Turning back to the woods, she looked back and saw nothing unusual.

She hesitated.

Bella had accepted vampires and werewolves without even blinking an eye.  She could certainly accept an enchanted wood. 

Wiping her face with the back of her hand one last time, she walked forward toward the lake.  The lands were beautiful and it certainly wasn’t October anymore.  She had traveled seasons along with location, she realized, unless she had changed hemispheres.  That was always a possibility. 

The sun was soft.

Coming up to the lake, Bella didn’t know what else to do other than sit there and wait until cold or hunger drove her to seek refuge in the house.  Perhaps it was a museum.  They might have a telephone.  She had lost hers somewhere back in the woods.

Perhaps she had been gone for days, weeks even, months.

She pulled her long dark hair away from her face, lifting her face toward the sun.

“Oh, I do beg your pardon.”  Bella looked up to see a young woman in a bonnet and an early nineteenth century dress.  Ah.  Bella had traveled back in time then.  The wood certainly was enchanted.  It couldn’t be Quileute magic, she thought to herself.  “Mrs. Reynolds told us the family was not in residence.”

“They are not,” Bella answered carefully.  “I am simply enjoying the sunshine.”

The young woman looked confused.  “It is certainly a pleasant day,” she finally answered.

“Very pleasant,” Bella agreed.  She thought for a long, hard moment.  “Do not let me detain you,” she tried, wanting to get rid of the young woman.  That sounded about right.  She had read enough Bronte novels to be able to emulate her speech.

The young woman curtseyed.  “Good day, Madam.”  She then folded her hands and walked off in the general direction of the gardens.

Bella watched her go and then let out a heavy sigh.  That had been close.  She closed her eyes and rested on her elbows, tilting her face up toward the sun.  It was certainly Spring, if not Summer, she decided.  Bella had not gone back to the exact date she had left from.  It had been a cold and rainy October.  She would have to find a calendar.

Several hours passed.  Bella thought she heard wheels.  It could have been a wagon or a carriage.  She didn’t open her eyes to find out.

The sound of hooves interrupted her contemplation and Bella looked up to see a horse and rider nearly upon her.  She jumped up and backed up toward the lake, but the rider reared the horse.  He expertly stayed in the saddle and pulled the horse away from Bella, calming him.  Dismounting, Bella saw a man in boots and a cravat, his tall hat having landed several feet away from the horse.

“Madam,” he greeted, “you were quite unexpected here at Pemberley.”

Bella, who had been cowering away from the horse, unfurled herself carefully.  “I—I apologize.  I was enjoying the summer sun.”

“It is a fine day,” he agreed, going to his horse and laying a hand on its great black neck.

Carefully, Bella approached and reached out a hand to the horse—which startled.

“Hush, Madam,” the gentleman urged, taking her smaller hand in his, and bringing it up to the horse’s mane.  “Gently now.”

Bella smiled when the horse allowed her to pet him.  “My father taught me to ride,” she admitted.  “When I was only three years old.”

“You have a way with horses,” the man told her, looking at her strangely.  “Are you Isabella Marie Swan?”

Bella paused and looked at him, her eyes steady and wide.  “How did you know that?”

She looked around them at the manicured lawns and the lake and the trees beyond the cobbled road.

“Where am I?”  Her eyes caught his again.

“Miss Swan, this is Pemberley.”

“Pemberley,” she repeated.  She had never heard of it.  “Is this—” she took a deep breath, “England?”

“It is, Madam,” he told her carefully.

“And this is the,” now she swallowed and looked over his clothes, “sometime in the 1700s?”

“1806,” he corrected.

She stared at him, hard.

“July the fifteen, 1806,” he supplied.

“Your woods,” she told him carefully.  “They are enchanted.”

“It is not just the woods,” he informed her.  “It is the entire estate.”

“This has happened before?”

“Indeed, Madam.”

“That does not explain how you know my name.  Do you know where I come from?”

“No, I am afraid I do not.”  He left her and the horse and went to retrieve his hat.  “I did, however, know you were coming.”

“Yes,” Bella agreed carefully, looking around.  “You knew my name.”

“Indeed.”  He held out his arm and, carefully, Bella took it.  She had never taken a man’s arm before.

“Who told you I was coming?”

He leaned forward and whispered, “Mutual acquaintances.”

“What mutual acquaintances?”

The man, however, did not answer her.  She had not even learnt his name.  Still, they were walking toward the house—which, perhaps, was not a museum.

She took a deep breath and wondered at the enchantment.  No, certainly not Quileute, she decided.  Certainly something else.

Something else entirely.

The End.