Disclaimer – Jane Austen owns Mr. Darcy and ITV own Amanda Price. I own the rights to Constance Darcy. I do not own the rights to Lady Gaga "Just Dance."

Author's Note – Apologize for the delay in posting this. I hope that now that the holidays are over I can post once a week again! Also, did they ever say what Amanda's mothers name was? I don't think they did …

Special Thanks - LucifersAngel23


Part II Chapter 4 – Lost in a New World

Everyone likes to go their own way – to choose their own time and manner of devotion. – Jane Austen

Constance's head began to throb and she feared opening her eyes. The only calming that she felt was a cooling sensation on her right cheek. Gradually, she opened her eyes and found that she was lying upon a floor that changed color. She squinted and stared at the floor, its colored squares changing from blue to red to green in the span of five seconds. She turned over and stared up at a ceiling. She blinked, for, she could not believe her eyes. There was light, but no candles. How could this be?

She continued to stare at the ceiling. She feared moving or standing up. Maybe, she thought to herself, if I close my eyes again, I shall wake up in bed and this will all be a bad dream. She squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten. When she reopened her eyes, she found that nothing had changed.

She sprang to her feet. Feeling dizzy, she leaned against a wall and took everything in. This place looked familiar but so strange at the same time. Her head throbbed again and she groaned in discomfort. She took in a quivering breath and held up a hand to shield the bright light.

Those lights were so bright.

In the corner of her eye, was some sort of light that flickered to the beat of music. Blue and white lights.

Music? She had never heard this kind of music before. It was most decidedly not Ludwig Van Beethoven or any of the composers she had grown accustomed to.

There were several people. Men and women sat on opposite sides of the room. The men watched the women and vice versa. It seemed as though the men were mustering up the courage to make their move. One brave man ventured towards the opposite side and politely asked if the woman he had been eyeing wanted to dance. She obliged and they walked arm in arm towards the dance floor. Men and women were dancing the quadrille to this peculiar music.

Red one, Konvict, Gaga.
I've had a little bit too much
All of the people start to rush, Start to rush by
How does he twist the dance? Can't find my drink, oh man
Where are my keys? I lost my phone

She furrowed her brow. What was a phone? She tried her best to tune the song out and turned her attention towards a group of people that looked as though their hair was an iridescent blue color. She stepped away from the floor, leaning upon the wall for support. Where was she? She wished that she had stayed home and had listened to her father.

What's going on, on the floor?
I love this record baby but I can't see straight anymore
Keep it cool, what's the name of this club?
I can't remember, but it's alright, alright

She needed to get out of here and fast. She ran through the club and bumped into a young woman holding a plate of glasses. The glasses fell to the ground; shattering on impact. The woman seemed more concerned with Constance than she had with the broken glasses.

Just dance, gonna be okay
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, spin that record babe
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, gonna be okay
D-D-D-Dance, dance, dance, just
J-J-Just dance

"Are you all right, miss?"

Constance jumped back. For some strange reason, she had not expected these individuals to speak English. "I-I think so."

"If you don't mind me saying," the girl ran a hand through her curly black hair, "you don't seem fine."

"C-can you tell me where I am?"

"You're in the Republic of Pemberley. It's an anti-club club," the girl snickered, "if that makes any sense."

"It does not." Constance paused, "Republic of Pemberley?"

"Yeah." The woman squinted at the girl, "You know we don't tolerate the consumption of alcoholic substances here."

"I beg your pardon," Constance said politely, "but, I am not drunk."

"Sorry. I didn't mean to assume." The woman looked down at the glass, "I better clean this up before someone gets hurt. You should sit down. You don't look too good."

"Where am I?"

"I just told you," the woman led Constance to a sofa, "you're in the Republic of Pemberley."

"No. It's called Pemberley. Not Republic of Pemberley." Constance yelled at the girl, "Why do you keep on calling it that?"

"I was just trying to help. No need to get brassed off."

"What?" Constance shook her head, "Never mind, I need to get out of here. "I-I don't even know what I am doing here. Where am I?"

"You're in the Re-"

"This looks just like home. But, it is most decidedly not. What have I stumbled into, this is madness."

Wish I could shut my playboy mouth
How'd I turn my shirt inside out? Inside out right
Control your poison babe, roses have thorns they say,
And we're all getting hosed tonight!

Before the woman could help her, Constance ran towards the exit. She pushed the door open and stood outside of a busy intersection. Lights emanated from a post in the middle of the street, red, yellow, and green. Through some miracle, she could still hear the song as though it was playing directly above her. She peered up at a circular black contraption and touched it; feeling the vibration of the music.

What's going on, on the floor?
I love this record baby but I can't see straight anymore
Keep it cool, what's the name of this club?
I can't remember, but it's alright, alright

What was that sound? She stood on the sidewalk and gasped as something whizzed past her. More and more machines zoomed past her, all different colors and with four thick, black wheels. Her breathing slowed down when she realized those machines were not out to get her and that they vaguely resembled a barouche. She stepped back further towards the door that she had walked out from and watched in curiosity, for, while these devices resembled carriages, they were unquestionably not that.

Just dance, gonna be okay
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, spin that record babe
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, gonna be okay
D-D-D-Dance, dance, dance, just
J-J-Just dance

The song went on without a care. She paced the front of the Republic of Pemberley back and forth, debating whether to leave and try to find something familiar or to walk back into this place. She thought to herself that though this place seemed bizarre to her, it was a lot stranger out here.

When I come through on the dance floor checkin' out that catalogue
Can't believe my eyes so many women without a flaw
And I ain't gonna give it up, steady trying to pick it up like a car
Imma hit it, Imma hit and flex and do it until tomorrow yeah

She frowned and wondered why this song sounded so aggressive. She had just seen a world that she knew nothing about. Those contraptions sped by without need of a horse and that red-yellow-green lightpost seemed to control them.

I can see that you got so much energy
The way you twirling up them hips round and round
And there is no reason at all why you can't leave here with me
In the mean time let me watch you break it down and

dance, gonna be okay
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, spin that record babe
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, gonna be okay
D-D-D-Dance, dance, dance, just
J-J-Just dance

She pushed the door to the Republic of Pemberley open and saw the woman that she had spoken with was talking to another older woman. The older woman turned and looked at Constance with a shocked expression upon her features. They both began to approach her.

Half psychotic sick hypnotic got my blueprint it's symphonic
Half psychotic sick hypnotic got my blueprint it's electronic
Half psychotic sick hypnotic got my blueprint it's symphonic
Half psychotic sick hypnotic got my blueprint it's electronic

The older woman reached Constance first while the younger woman dawdled behind; swaying on her tiptoes with a smile as though she knew something and did not want to say. The older woman had short, sandy blonde hair and kind, wrinkled brown eyes. Constance crossed her arms defensively and watched as the older woman spoke, "You seem to be lost."

"Lost does not even begin to describe it," said Constance firmly. "I must ask you again, where am I?"

Go, use your muscle carve it out work it, hustle!
Don't slow! Drive it, clean it, lights out, bleed it
Spend the lasto, in your pocko!

The older woman extended her hand, "My name is Kate Price." Constance shook the woman's hand, "Constance Darcy." Constance felt herself calming down slightly by something as familiar as a handshake. She looked at the other woman. The other woman was exotic looking with dark skin the color of coffee with cream. She had almond-shaped eyes the color of amber. Her luxurious, curly, black hair was worn in a style that reminded Constance of a horse's mane.

"Pirhana," the woman extended her hand.

Constance shook Pirhana's hand, "Isn't that a vicious fish?"

Pirhana smiled, "No. It's pronounced Purr-ha-na."

Costance nodded and wondered why she was shaking their hand instead of curtsying. Sure, she had shaken people's hands before but this was only in informal gatherings and after she had been properly introduced to them. Notwithstanding the informalities, she found herself rather liking the behavior of these two women. They were so at ease with their femininity. The way they dressed would have been a scandal in Hertfordshire. Pirhana wore a shiny low-cut silver top with some sort of gray sequined jacket on top with skin-tight pants that left nothing to the imagination. Her shoes seemed to be a marvel of aerodynamics with the heel at least five inches high. Katie wore a rose-colored pink sweater that showed off some of her shoulder and neck with a black pencil skirt and though her shoes were not as brash as Pirhana's; they were still about three inches high which was high for Constance.

Just dance, gonna be okay
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, spin that record babe
Da da doo doo-mmm
Just dance, gonna be okay
D-D-D-Dance, dance, dance, just
J-J-Just dance

"You should sit down. You look a bit peaked," said Kate in a motherly voice.

"Why does everyone think that I am ill?" Constance clenched her jaw, "For the millionth time, where the hell am I?"

She saw Pirhana and Kate exchange looks and she eyed them suspiciously. Constance paused to think about the events that had led her here. First, she had run away because her father had embarrassed her and then she had been sucked into something that had given her an awful headache. She had then woken up on the floor in a strange building that looked just like the ballroom at Pemberley only with brighter lights and a color-changing floor and some strange light that made people look blue. Overall, this was a peculiar night.

Kate glanced sidelong at Pirhana, "Do you want to tell her or should I?"

Pirhana pushed Constance down into a chair, "You need to sit for this, okay?"

Kate began, "You are in London."

"I beg to differ," Constance argued, "this is not London."

"Oh it is," Pirhana spoke up, "just not the London you know." She held a newspaper to Constance's face, "Look at the date."

Constance's eyebrows crinkled when she looked at the newspaper in Pirhana's hand. She picked it up and one word stuck out, London. She looked around her, then back at the newspaper, and read the date. Her heart skipped a beat, "2012? But, how?"


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