It is a truth universally acknowledged that a time traveler in possession of all her memories is bound to be bored. If she travels to the past, that is.

Such were the thoughts of Lydia Bennet (Yes, dear reader, you read that right) as she stared out the windows of Longbourn's nursery. Well, time travel might not be the best way to describe the situation she currently found herself in, although she did travel to the past. When one thinks of traveling through time, they do not imagine being reborn (that was a memory she could definitely do without) as a character in one of their favorite novels. Better yet, if she had to be reborn as a character at all, she would much rather be born as the intelligent and witty Elizabeth, or the kind and lovely Jane, or even Caroline Bingley for that matter; at the very least, she was rich. But no, she had to be reborn as Lydia Bennet, the "poor stupid girl" who had ruined her life and almost did the same with that of her sister, by running away with a cad.

"Everyone is allotted a certain amount of luck in their life," she thought. "And it seems I have run out of mine," she completed as she sighed.

"Is it normal for babies to sigh?" four-year-old Elizabeth Bennet asked, tilting her head to the side.

"I don't know, Lizzie," Jane said, looking at the baby sitting in the crib. "At least she is not crying anymore."

At the sound of their voices, Lydia started and tried to turn her body, only to fail miserably and fall headfirst into the mattress.

"Oh!" Jane exclaimed as she rushed to the baby's side, only to see her already getting up with her chubby hands. "I am sorry, little one, we didn't mean to scare you."

Jane started to rub her back and make soothing sounds at her, even though the baby wasn't crying. Lydia looked up at the face of her older "sister". Even at six years old, Jane was absolutely lovely, just as the novel had described. If everything else wasn't enough to convince her of her situation, that would be enough, well that and Elizabeth's endless questions. She sighed and looked out the window again.

"Nanny, did I also sigh when I was a baby?" Getting no answer from her sister Lizzie, she now turned to their nanny sitting on the other side of the room. Mrs. Crow was an elderly woman who had worked at Longbourn ever since Mr. Bennet was a baby and taken care of all the girls. She put down her embroidery before answering the eager girl in front of her.

"No, Miss Lizzie, you did not sigh when you were that young, none of you did." She frowned at that, a worried look on her face. "I actually have never seen a baby that behaves as your sister does."

Elizabeth turned at that, staring at her baby sister, a thoughtful look on her face, and when she spoke, it was with a bit of worry in her tone.

"She looks sad, especially when we are around."

When Lydia heard that, a small pang of guilt hit her. She knew she had been acting strangely for an infant.

When she first woke up in this new place, she was disoriented and confused; her eyes felt heavy, and all she could do was listen. But nothing the people around her said made much sense, and given that she kept drifting off to sleep, it became even harder to follow the conversation. Initially, she assumed she must've been in a hospital due to some accident of which she couldn't remember any details. As her eyes adjusted to the surroundings, however, and as she began understanding their heavy accent, her confusion deepened. She still couldn’t move her body, yet here was this old-fashioned home—where everything seemed too big—and a beautiful woman kept ranting about her nerves asking for a Hill (whatever that meant). Then it dawned on Lydia why the home felt so big: when someone picked her up suddenly, she understood that she was just tiny!

She wasn't ill or injured; she was a baby. It terrified her to think of how she'd ended up here; there were no explanations for it. All she remembered was going to sleep one night and waking up in this unfamiliar place—it was as if the whole world had disappeared from her life.

She didn't know where she was or even who she had become; all she knew was that was not her body and this was not her home, but she still clung to some hope thinking that she would still be able to go back home; she just had to wait a little and go after her family when she got older, but that hope shattered when she understood just exactly who she was. Lydia Bennet was a character inside a book; she might not even be in her own world anymore and even if she was, it was impossible to survive the two hundred years that separated her from her old life.

Understandably, she began to cry when she accepted that she would always be stuck in the past, far away from everyone she knew: her family, her mother, sister, nephews. It felt like waking up one morning to find all those you love have passed away, when in truth it was probably her who had died; otherwise, how could she be born again.

Everyone in the house became concerned when she wouldn't stop crying, so they summoned Mr. Jones, the apothecary. After he determined that there was nothing physically wrong with her, everyone was at a loss of what to do with her. She spent weeks grief-stricken, sometimes crying out loud and sometimes just sobbing until she fell asleep again.

Five months later, while she had become calmer, any time she saw one of the Bennet's it reminded her of who she really was; this behavior made everyone, especially her two older sisters, worry about her.

Seeing Lizzie's worried face, she decided that enough was enough. She may have lost her entire world, but sitting in a crib and crying while ignoring everyone around her wasn't going to make it better; it would only make it worse. So taking a deep breath, she turned, slowly this time so as not to fall, and looking at her sister extending her arms to them.

Elizabeth looked at Lydia in surprise, not expecting the baby to extend her arms towards her. She hesitated for a moment before holding out her own arms, allowing Lydia to grasp onto her fingers with a surprising amount of strength. Lydia looked up at her with big, dark blue eyes, and Elizabeth noticed a spark of curiosity and even recognition in them.

"Hello there," Elizabeth said with a smile, gently squeezing Lydia's hand. "Are you feeling better today?"

Lydia made a gurgling noise and kicked her chubby legs, causing Elizabeth to laugh. It was the first time Lydia had shown any signs of happiness since she was born.

Mrs. Crow, who had been sitting quietly in the corner, watching the exchange with a small smile, spoke up. "It seems Miss Lydia has taken a liking to you, Miss Elizabeth."

Elizabeth nodded, still holding onto Lydia's hand. "I think she's finally getting used to us," she said.

Jane glanced at her little sister who was doing her best to stand up.

"I think she wants to get out of the crib, nanny," Jane said quietly. "Can I take her out?" Mrs. Crow thought for a moment and then gave permission.

"Yes, Miss Jane, but be careful; you are still too young to carry her around, so just put her down on the carpet; she might want to move around a bit."

At five months old, Lydia found herself in a body that was frustratingly uncooperative. Her mind, filled with thoughts and words from her past life, was trapped in the body of an infant.

She tried to crawl, her chubby arms and legs flailing in an attempt to propel herself forward. But her movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, resulting in little more than a few inches of progress. She babbled, trying to form the words that came so easily to her in her previous life. But her vocal cords were not yet developed enough to produce the sounds she wanted.

"It's not fair," Lydia thought, feeling a surge of frustration. She was a grown woman, not a helpless baby. She should be able to do these things.

Elizabeth, who had been watching her struggle, let out a soft laugh. "Oh, Lydia," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're so eager to grow up. Just enjoy being a baby while you can."

Lydia glared at her, not appreciating the teasing. But without the ability to speak, all she could do was let out an indignant babble.

Jane, ever the peacemaker, came to her rescue. "Lizzie, don't tease her," she chided gently. "Everyone develops at their own pace. Lydia will learn to crawl and talk when she's ready."

Elizabeth shrugged, but she didn't argue. Instead, she reached out and tickled Lydia's tummy, causing the baby to giggle.

As Lydia lay there, laughing and babbling, her mind wandered to the future. One thing was for certain - she wasn't going to stick to the original script. Running away with a rascal like Wickham didn't even make her top ten life priorities. She had quite a bit of planning ahead of her. "But first," she thought, "I need to learn how to walk and talk." With a sigh, she acknowledged, "It seems like I have a long way to go".