by Jemma Thorne
I had much to learn.
Tomorrow.
The first raindrops splashed down, cool on my tear-streaked face. I squealed merrily and ran for cover.
The End
* * *
Spectres at Longbourn
Chapter 1
I woke to a scratching, scrabbling sound…scritch…scritch... I squinted my eyes in the darkness of my own bedroom, and breathed a sigh of relief that this is where I awoke. I'd spent the last several nights at Netherfield Park, complete with a merry ghost chase. No wonder the sound I heard now seemed as if skeletal fingers were scraping along the glass of our windows. I shivered, and curled down lower in the bedclothes.
Across the room, my sister Jane slept on, peaceful as an angel. A good thing, too. She was still recovering from the sickness that had held us at Netherfield Park since last Wednesday.
I stretched my toes down along the edge of my bed, flexing muscles blissfully limp with much-needed sleep. I was definitely glad to be home.
I should probably rise, dress quickly, and see if I could reach Lady Leticia's house by dawn. I needed to speak with her, after all that had occurred at Netherfield Park.
But then I found myself nestled deeper under my covers, my nose a touch chilled sticking out of the blankets, and found very little desire to rise in my heart.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shadows on one side of the room shift with a ripple like a sigh or a faint wind. I focused my gaze there, but there was nothing. Maybe it had been a tree moving in the moonlight? I stretched to peer out the window. Yes, the moon was bright, shining a tad more than half its face on our sleepy little estate.
I snuggled down in my bed again, and that's when I heard the sound repeat. Scritch…scritch… And then a longer sound, like ice breaking, except that it went on forever. A chill ran down my spine, and I looked to Jane again. But she was still asleep.
Slowly, I shifted, and my feet found my slippers on the floor. I crept from my bed. Probably not the smart thing to do, but Jane would say that is why I chose it.
My sister slept on, and I did not disturb her.
The floor creaked as I snuck from my bed, but it did not drown out the sound that had drawn me from my warm resting place. Goosebumps prickled my skin. I treaded softly, the hairs on one side of my neck standing up in warning, and my nerves frazzling.
I eased toward the door, the feeling that something would reach out and grab me almost terrifying me enough to scream. But then Jane would stop me, and I wanted to know what was making the sound I heard. Where was it coming from?
The doorknob was cool to the touch. I eased the door open to reveal the dark hallway beyond. A soft glow came from the stairs, but that was the only light.
No one was about. So what was that noise? It came again. Fingernails screeching over a chalkboard, but faint, distant. It was coming from downstairs. I crept toward the stairs, wishing I'd thought to put on a robe. Maybe it was just Hill downstairs, up early to start his day. Very early.
With soft footfalls I moved down the stairs. Before I was halfway down I could feel the chill of the wind streaming through the open doorway. And then I saw the edge of the door, swinging ever so slightly in the wind. I gasped and rushed down, looking about for any sign of an intruder.
There was no one else down here.
Something was blocking the door from closing, and screeching as it rubbed repeatedly over the entry floor. I stooped nearer it so that I could see, and felt the dirt crunch under my foot as I realized what it was. A holly bush, uprooted in its entirety and thrust inside root-end first. The pointed edges of its leaves scraped over the tile, causing the eerie sound.
But eerie sound or no, why in the world was there a holly bush in the entry way? Who had put this here?
“Miss?”
The voice behind me made me jump out of my skin. I whirled, simultaneously prepared to defend myself and horrified to be caught out of my room well before dawn in only my nightclothes. “Hill! You scared me!”
“What are you about, Miss?” Hill stared at me long and hard. “What are you doing down here?”
I closed my arms around myself. “I came down when I heard a noise… Can I assume you don’t know what this is doing here, either?”
Hill stretched his neck to take in the holly bush stopping the door. He sighed. “No, I don’t. But I best begin cleaning it up.”
I retreated, leaving the man to his job, and went to dress appropriately for the day. Maybe I could still squeak out of the house without notice and make for Lady Leticia’s before my parents rose.
But that was not to be. Father was up in no time and in a jolly mood, too. I asked him about it, and with a twinkle in his eye he told me that I would hear with the rest of the family, soon.
I read for a bit, awaiting breakfast. Over the meal, Father finally decided to break his news. “Mrs. Bennet, I do hope you have a fine meal planned for dinner this evening. We are anticipating a guest, a gentleman.”
Mother looked at him and smiled at the same twinkle in his eye that I had noted earlier. “Oh! It is Mr. Bingley, I am sure!”
Father shook his head. “No, don’t get excited. It is not Mr. Bingley. In fact, a man will wait on us this evening whom I have not had the pleasure of meeting in all my days.”
We all looked at him expectantly, but Father did love to play on when he had our attention. Only to do so in this case turned out to be exceedingly cruel to my mother, who could never wrap her head around the true situation we Bennet women were in.
“Well, dear husband?”
“You see, about a month ago I received a letter from my cousin, Mr. Collins.”
Mother withered in her chair. “Oh, do not be cruel! What did he have to say?”
“Here,” Father said. “Let me read you his letter.”
The youngest of us looked increasingly bored at the exchange, but Mother, Jane and I were held riveted, and Mary had enough sense to understand what Mr. Collins meant to our family. To Longbourn.
“It opens thus,” he said, pausing only to clear his throat.
“Mr. Bennet,
It is with the utmost hope for your forbearance that I do write to you now, and seek that we should know each other as family, distant cousins though we are. After my father’s death I found it difficult to pick up the pen, for I worried I would disgrace his memory by reaching out to you. However, with the situation as it is, I feel we must meet and that we can do so with grace and the decency by which such things become arranged…”
Even I was tempted to tune out his boorish words at this point; I struggled to keep my mind on the contents of the letter and the meaning of it.
Mr. Collins was a clergyman. He spouted lofty ideals that I had an inkling he could scarcely comprehend. At the proud mention of his patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I began to frown. Was the man an idiot? He was easily impressed and full of himself, to be sure.
And then came the promise to ‘make the Bennet daughters every possible amends,’ for being next in the entail of Longbourn, and the notice of his arrival this very afternoon.
Jane raised her brows at me and lo and behold, I wanted to shrink into my chair. What would this man want in coming here? Was it as he said, he wanted to make amends for the past wrongs and anger between our fathers? Or was the young, seemingly foolish cleric actually in search of a wife? Of course it was the latter!
“And what did you say to him?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
Mr. Bennet smiled craftily. “Why, after a fortnight of thought, I wrote him a fortnight ago.”
Mother fanned herself, her cheeks growing red. “Why on earth are you only telling us now?”
“Why, dear wife, I am rarely afforded the opportunity of so exciting a morning.”
Mother sat straighter. “So we will meet the man tonight. I must speak to Hill about it now. Of course we shall show him a fine supper, and all that Longbourn has to offer.”
I looked at my mother, and realized my fingertips w
ere growing white clutching the tabletop. Would she sell one of us away to that arrogant fool for so little as the promise of a roof over her head?
Of course she would. I had always known it.
And to be her second daughter…
Jane was watching me, but her face was composed, expressionless. I collected myself, copying her, and she gave me a slight nod.
We had our freedom then, Mother taken up in preparations for this evening, and Father retreating to his library, having proclaimed the morning’s excitement quite satisfactory. At this moment I could not stand my father.
Lydia and Kitty were off to Meryton, to catch up on news of the regiment there. And so I had Jane to myself.
“What is it?” she asked me suspiciously, finally deigning to catch my eye after attempting to ignore me for a good five minutes.
“I am walking to Lady Leticia’s. I need to speak to her after Netherfield. Do you fancy a walk?”
“I have told you what I thought of it.” Jane lifted her chin into the air. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“I was only hoping you’d join me, sister. I know that Lady Leticia would love to see you, and see that you are well. And if you come along, then I needn’t avoid mother’s view.”
If she didn’t, I’d have to sneak away and bear both the guilt and the worry over being caught. I had a feeling my mother wouldn’t be in the mood today to deal kindly with willful daughters.
Jane stretched, and glanced at me awkwardly. “I am not well enough yet,” she said.
I glared at her, but she would not meet my eyes. “I knew you would say as much. You did make yourself clear at Netherfield.” And so she had. Jane had finally admitted how distressed she was by any interaction with the spirits, how she wished that her gift to see them would just dissolve and leave her be. How she didn’t want to traipse around at night, solving mysteries and riddles.
My own gift had changed so much of late, I was very taken up with it. Taken up with the excitement. Before Netherfield, it had always been Jane who saw the spirits, but it turned out I had the gift after all, it was just taking its time in developing. We could both see them, my sister and I. We didn’t choose when, we didn’t choose how. I had yet to know the half of my abilities.
But I was learning. I was determined.
Taking a deep breath, I moved closer. “Please? I would have you with me. It’s only a bit of a walk.”
Jane sighed and grabbed her shawl.
Off we went.
Chapter 2
The weather was decent today, and we were thankful. The earth had returned to a state of near firmness, after the mud that had plagued us last week. I would not ruin my skirts today.
I thought back to that trek to Netherfield, to my similar determination then. Jane had been sick, and I was worried, but truly I had taken the opportunity afforded to figure out more of what was happening at that grand estate. And I’d solved that mystery. I had helped a spirit finish her last business on this plane and move on, and I’d helped an old man leave this world in peace.
I had yet to share the full of it with anyone, and I was eager to know what Lady Leticia would make of it.
Jane and I spoke little on the walk, both of us deep in our own thoughts. Good luck found us at Leticia’s door by the hour of ten.
Her companion greeted us at the door, and ushered us into the old woman’s sitting room. Crowded with clusters of drying herbs, stone carvings and several walking sticks Leticia hadn’t been able to use in some time, it looked like no other sitting room in this area of England.
And why should it? Lady Leticia was, in fact, a witch.
What did it make me, that my fondest desire was to learn from her?
“Oh, my girls!” Lady Leticia reached for me, and I stooped to give her a hug, not wanting her to rise from her chair. It was a silent agreement between us. She needed to save her strength. Leticia was beyond old, approaching ancient.
She hugged Jane, too, and whispered something in my sister’s ear. Tears glistened in Jane’s eyes when the embrace ended.
Lady Leticia asked us to sit, and we did so, one of us agreeably, and the other chagrined.
It was to my sister that Lady Leticia turned first. “Jane, are you quite well? You seem…tired. Removed?”
Faced with this direct line of questioning, Jane couldn’t meet Lady Leticia’s eyes any more than she could mine. “I don’t know, I just can’t… I can’t go on, seeking trouble.”
To our surprise, Lady Leticia laughed. “If it seems like trouble to you, dear, then don’t. The world has no need of your pain over this. You will make your own contribution, in your own way. Be happy in your choices and you’ll know you’ve chosen well.” She nodded encouragingly. “We wouldn’t want any less for you.”
I was relieved…and surprised at my relief. Lady Leticia had summed up my feelings on the matter, which I had been unable to describe to Jane.
The spirits we had seen troubled Jane. But the sightings did not trouble me in the same fashion. There was no reason that the two of us had to make the same choice in the matter. I could only hope that Jane would afford me as much goodwill as Lady Leticia was affording her and her choice. I had to leave that in my sister’s hands.
I conveyed to Leticia all that had happened at Netherfield Park, with Jane sitting there, taking it in for the first time. A few times Jane gasped. And once she cried out, “Oh, Lizzy! I should have—”
“No, you shouldn’t,” I said firmly. “Yes, I took a risk. But it felt right to me, and I’m glad that I did it. I will continue to do the same, Jane.”
She nodded. Then she threw her arms around me, almost knocking me back in her vigor.
“Jane, if Lizzy is to continue exploring her gift, she will need your support, even if you don’t want to be involved yourself.” Lady Leticia’s eyes were earnest. I was so glad for her. What would I do, if I began to see all that I was seeing now, without her guidance?
It made me wonder how often girls had faced that very question. In our family, a gift for seeing ghosts was not all that rare.
“Of course,” Jane said quietly. “I just worry constantly for you.”
“Then I will try, occasionally, to take your advice.”
She cracked a small smile, but I could tell she was still worried.
“Why worry so, Jane? How likely is it that we will run into another ghost anytime soon?”
“Yes, the family is absorbed in other news, which is sure to dominate our days for some time.”
We filled Lady Leticia in on the Bennet family doings, particularly the impending visit of our distant cousin Mr. Collins. I told them both of my worries over being married off.
Jane exclaimed it would not be so, that it was as likely to be her as me.
I shook my head. “No, you have a more promising match and Mother wouldn’t change it.”
“Well,” Lady Leticia said, “if you have no desire to wed him, you need only be firm, Lizzy. We know that you can do that.” They both smiled at me, making fun, and I frowned in return. “However, my dear, have you considered that this man might be just what you need?”
I shuddered. “You did not hear his letter. There is something strange about him. He seems servile and exceedingly proud simultaneously. I believe the poor man may be daft.”
“And…” Lady Leticia said leadingly.
I couldn’t help but grin, and the three of us shared a giggle over that. Indeed, for some women a daft husband may be a blessing.
* * *
Mother had a fine table set and all was in readiness when our cousin Mr. Collins arrived promptly at 4 o’clock, as promised. His close-cropped blonde hair was probably trimmed as recently as yesterday, and his shoulders were broad enough, along with his barrel of a waistline, to fill the doorframe. He smiled on all of us graciously, his hat in hand. We all crowded at the entry, trading niceties, him more than the rest of us combined.
When we finally encouraged him to the sitting room, with h
im remarking on the fine quality of the furniture throughout, he accepted the offer of tea. Then he set into telling us all about himself.
I grew more and more bored. But my ears perked up at the mention of our beauty.
“Mrs. Bennet, your daughters are even more lovely than I was told, from the eldest to the youngest. I am certain each will be married before long.”
I stiffened, for I knew what was coming before Mother opened her mouth.
Sure enough. “You are most kind, Mr. Collins. I do pray it is so, for they’ll be destitute if not for husbands to provide for them. Things are settled so oddly.”
“The entail, I am sure you mean.” She nodded and he sighed with open distress. “I want you to know that I acknowledge the hardship such an arrangement must have on your family of daughters. I do not want to say too much, for I will not be presumptuous, but I can assure you that I come prepared to admire your daughters. I will leave it at that for now—”
Hill chose that moment to call us to dinner, to my relief. The thought of Mr. Collins’ admiration set my teeth on edge. Who wanted it?
His manners were formal and his bearing stuffed up with undeserved self-importance. I could not handle much more of the man.
Leg of lamb served with roasted potatoes and rosemary distracted me for a time. Then Mr. Collins was heard to say, “Why the food is quite delicious. Which of my lovely cousins do I have to thank for this fine meal?”
Mrs. Bennett gave a small gasp. “I assure you, cousin, we employ a cook. None of my daughters has a thing to do in the kitchen at Longbourn.”
He grimaced, no doubt noting her tone had gone icy compared with his earlier reception. “Ah, then. Your cook is wonderful indeed. And I’m certain if they lent their hand to it, any of your daughters could develop skill beyond reproach in the art they chose, whether culinary or not.”
I blinked at him, wishing he could read my mind and understand what an idiot I thought him to be. Except he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at Jane. Had the man set his sights so early on the eldest of us? Well, good for Jane.
