Haunting Mr. Darcy

by KaraLynne Mackrory

  Chapter 2

  Elizabeth Bennet’s laughter died away when her line of sight drifted from her dance partner to her sister Jane, dancing down the set from her. Jane had a pinch about her eyes that imparted her true feelings behind her serene countenance, and had Elizabeth not been such an intimate of her sister, she might not have noticed. Suddenly, a surge of protective emotion rose in her breast, and anger simmered at the way things had turned out for Jane.

  Ever since the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy left for London, her sister had been exposed to the derision of the world for disappointed hopes and suffered misery of the acutest kind. Her former suitor, Mr. Bingley, was blamed for his caprice and instability. Elizabeth was certain that Mr. Bingley loved her sister and just as certain that his friend and sisters had everything to do with their separation.

  She did not miss the irony that they were even then attending a Meryton assembly — the New Year’s Eve assembly — a twin to the one several months earlier at which Jane had met Mr. Bingley for the first time. The noticeable difference at this assembly was the absence of single gentlemen in possession of large fortunes and in want of wives. Certainly not with all those elements combined. Elizabeth looked at her partner, the charming Mr. Wickham, and confirmed that, although there were many good single gentlemen, they were certainly not possessing large fortunes; and those in want of wives were among those without fortunes.

  Even if such a man were to come into the neighborhood, Elizabeth was certain it would not matter much to Jane, for she was, though heartbroken, still as much in love with Mr. Bingley as ever before.

  When the dance came to an end, Mr. Wickham escorted Elizabeth to where Jane’s dance partner had left her to retrieve refreshments. After accepting Mr. Wickham’s offer to retrieve a glass of refreshment for her as well, Elizabeth turned to her beloved sister.

  “You are not well, Jane.” Concern poured from her as she took in the hollow look in Jane’s eyes while reaching for her hand.

  Jane turned her hand up to hold her sister’s and tried to swallow the sudden emotion surging in her breast. “I am having a difficult time with my memories. That is all, Lizzy. I shall be fine soon, I assure you.”

  “Oh Jane.” Elizabeth squeezed her sister’s hand and, seeing that her gesture added to the emotion Jane was experiencing, eased the pressure. “Shall we not go home now, Jane? I am a bit fatigued and I am sure there is time enough in the evening to return and have the carriage come back for our sisters.”

  Jane turned to her sister and smiled thankfully. “You do not have to cut your evening short, Lizzy. I know you are enjoying the dancing. At the last assembly, gentlemen were scarce and to my certain knowledge more than one lady was sitting down in want of a partner.”

  Jane’s attempt at levity was valiant and Lizzy laughed for her benefit. “Indeed, I recall the evening quite well. With the addition of the militia, the misfortune of a scarcity of eligible gentlemen is resolved.”

  “Much has changed in such a short time, has it not, Lizzy?”

  The quaver in Jane’s voice proved she was adequate for neither the conversation nor the lively atmosphere. Elizabeth decided then that she would accompany her sister home despite Jane’s protestations. She could see the evening had been a difficult one for Jane, and it need not continue in this manner. When Mr. Wickham and Jane’s previous dance partner returned with glasses of punch, Elizabeth asked Mr. Wickham to call for her family’s carriage.

  “But you are not leaving, Miss Elizabeth? The night is still young, and the clock has not yet struck twelve.”

  “Lizzy . . . ” Jane started.

  “Mr. Wickham,” Elizabeth responded, while kindly silencing Jane with a smile. “Indeed we are. I fear I am not feeling well, and Jane has agreed to accompany me home.”

  She watched and was surprised by the look of frustration that flashed in the gentleman’s eyes before his usual charm reestablished itself.

  “Can you ladies not wait at least until midnight that we might have the honor of wishing you a Happy New Year?” Mr. Wickham implored prettily.

  Elizabeth was momentarily struck by Mr. Wickham’s insistence. She had overheard many officers mention that they were hoping to steal a kiss from a lady when the clock chimed twelve. Mr. Wickham had been in the group of gentlemen, and although he had not said it himself, he had laughed. She had dismissed it as a brazen notion of young, overeager officers. She wondered briefly whether Mr. Wickham’s lapse in manners here was due to his desire to steal a kiss at the New Year. She shook her head, dispelling the thought. Mr. Wickham is much too gentlemanly to condone such youthful indiscretions.

  “You are too kind, Mr. Wickham. Indeed, though, I do not feel well enough to stay any longer. If you would please call for our carriage, I would be much obliged.”

  Mr. Wickham pursed his lips and bowed in resignation but not before Elizabeth perceived again the irritation that seemed to flicker in his countenance. She looked at Jane and noticed that her sister was gently biting her bottom lip, as was her habit when she was in the throes of emotion. She needed escape from the evening, and Elizabeth immediately forgot the strange behavior in her officer friend in deference to her worry for Jane. After securing their cloaks, Elizabeth left Jane briefly to inform their mother of their departure. Mrs. Bennet was not best pleased with the arrangements and demanded Jane ought to stay and dance with another or two of the officers.

  “For surely it would do her good to have them show her a bit of preference.”

  Elizabeth had anticipated such a protest and settled her features into a concerned mien.

  “Mama, I fear the evening is fatiguing to my sister, and her beauty is diminished by her weariness. I am taking her home so that it does not become generally believed that she has lost her bloom.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes at the ease in which this fallacy escaped her tongue and its immediate success with her mother. Almost as soon as the words left her mouth, Mrs. Bennet was insisting that Elizabeth waste no further time and take Jane home to rest.

  “Take care that she has Hill make her one of her tea blends to place on her eyes when you get home, and Lizzy, see also that she has a glass of wine before bed. It will help her rest well, and then perhaps she will feel refreshed for any officers that may come and call upon the morrow. Of course, had Mr. Bingley not left...”

  Elizabeth turned and left before she heard the rest, all the while shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. Her mention of Mr. Bingley’s absence, however, did bring back to Elizabeth’s mind the frustration she had toward that gentleman’s party. It was with these energized thoughts that Elizabeth reached Jane’s side again just as Mr. Wickham arrived to announce their carriage was ready.

  * * *

  “I shall mourn the loss of your presence for the rest of the assembly, Miss Elizabeth, but I see you are determined. I shall not say another word but, instead, bid you a good night.” Mr. Wickham made an elegant bow over her hand and kissed her glove.

  Elizabeth was pleased and flattered by his words. She laughed merrily, instantly convincing herself that she had misread his earlier countenance, never believing that his dramatic prose or his charming words were anything but harmless flirting.

  “Thank you, sir. I pray your evening is not spoilt.”

  Mr. Wickham then stepped forward, reached for her cloak’s hood, and placed it on her head. “It is a cold night, Miss Elizabeth, and the snow is already quite heavy. Do take care, or you will catch your death. Good night.”

  Elizabeth blushed but managed a tolerable reply. Eager to get Jane home and out of society, Elizabeth indicated her readiness to go.

  With that, Mr. Wickham handed Jane and Elizabeth up into their carriage and signaled the groom to drive on. The horses’ hooves slid momentarily on loose snow and ice but then caught hold, lurching them forward into the dark night.

  Elizabeth turned to her sister and, securing her hand, said, “We are alone now, Jane; you need not hide your feelings.”


  That was all it took to unlatch the gate of Jane’s emotions. Elizabeth could hear her sister’s sudden sobs, and with a familiarity known to sisters, pulled her into an easy embrace while she cried. Jane’s pained heart was especially difficult for Elizabeth, as she knew there was nothing she could do to ease her heartache. She was suddenly pleased that Jane would travel to London in the coming week to visit with her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner for a time. It was hoped that Jane might see something of Bingley there, and then all would be made well. Until then, Elizabeth knew that what Jane needed most was the love of her favorite sister.

  “Do you think it would help to speak of it, Jane?”

  Her sister’s muffled reply was almost lost in the sound of the cold wind rustling against the carriage. “I was just thinking of the last assembly.”

  “It was a mistake to come tonight, I fear.”

  “No, no, Lizzy. It was not, if only to teach me what a fortunate memory I now have of that night in September. Mr. Bingley shall ever more be held in my mind as one of the most amiable and handsome gentlemen of my acquaintance.”

  “You are too good, Jane. But if it pains you, we do not have to speak of that night.”

  “It does not pain me. I am afraid I let my memories overwhelm me, ’tis all.”

  Elizabeth, unable to bear her sister’s haunted expression, attempted a bit of humor. “I believe Sir William enjoyed the festivities this evening more than last time. His dancing became a trifle unbalanced after his fourth glass of punch.”

  Her observation lightened Jane’s countenance, and the sisters even managed to laugh together for a few moments. “His exclamations of ‘Capital!’ could be heard across the room by the time we left.”

  They chuckled together again and spent a few minutes in light conversation discussing the hilarities of their neighbors, both aware that under the surface more somber feelings still lapped at Jane’s heart.

  “And I do believe this assembly found me with an improvement in my beauty, for I heard not one gentleman declare me only tolerable or not handsome enough to tempt him.”

  “He was very bad to have said that, Lizzy,” Jane said even as she laughed at the imperious tone taken on by her sister’s last words.

  “It was very bad of him, to be sure.” Elizabeth giggled with a nudge to her sister. “Perhaps as my revenge, I shall declare that man’s misfortune — and my New Year’s wish — is for Mr. Darcy to want something he cannot have!”

  “Lizzy!” Jane, now feeling her good spirits returned by the liveliness of her sister, pretended to rebuke Elizabeth. “You ought to be careful what you say on the eve of a new year, Lizzy. All wishes are granted on the New Year to those whom Fate deems deserving.”

  The sisters fell into laughter at the oft-spoken superstition their Aunt Philips most diligently expressed each year before the assembly; plaguing her nieces to make wishes for finding a husband.

  “Ah, but Jane you forget. Fate cannot grant the wish unless the person making that wish is destined to fall in love in the coming year. And since you are quite twice as handsome as me, it is likely I shall never find myself in love unless it is with your ten children.”

  “Lizzy!” Again, her sister exclaimed her name among a fit of laughter. “Ten children! Pray, find me a husband first!”

  Together the sisters erupted in mirth. Just then, the carriage jolted to the side abruptly, and they felt it slide briefly on the ice. It was only a second before they felt the wheels recover again and straighten, but the momentary fright sobered them completely.

  “It is such a cold night. I think we ought to tell John to return for our sisters and mother immediately, for the weather is getting much worse. Soon, I fear the roads will be impassible,” Elizabeth whispered.

  Jane remained silent, and after a minute, Elizabeth turned to look at her. It was too dark to see her face but a foreboding feeling slipped around Elizabeth’s heart. She reached a gentle hand up to her sister’s face and frowned when her suspicions were confirmed as her hand encountered tears.

  “Jane . . . ”

  “Lizzy . . . ”

  They both spoke at once, and without humor, they laughed at their combined entreaties.

  “Lizzy,” Jane began again when it was clear Elizabeth was waiting. “I made a wish last New Year’s that I might meet someone this year, and it came true. I fell in love with Mr. Bingley.”

  “Oh, Jane.” Elizabeth embraced her sister again, tears stinging her own eyes.

  “I think Fate granted my wish, though I daresay I am not certain in the manner I had hoped.” Jane sighed with longing, and Elizabeth clenched her eyes to keep them from watering further. Her sister’s pain was her own, and she very much wished she could offer relief.

  “You shall see him when you go to London, Jane. He returns your love, I am certain of it.”

  They remained silent for a spell, listening to the labored breaths of the horses, the howl of the wind, and the discordance of their personal thoughts. If given the chance, I shall right this wrong, Elizabeth vowed. The carriage lurched again, and the sisters held tighter in an attempt to steady themselves. This time, the carriage continued to slide, and fear burst into the hearts of both as they felt a sudden jolt. They heard the snap of a carriage wheel as it crashed into the trees on the side of the road. A fearful squeak escaped Elizabeth as the carriage tipped abruptly to one side. In the way of horrifying moments, she felt as if time had slowed and every detail of the accident was being captured in her memory with vivid acuity. The blanket floated up around her in the air, and she turned to see light from the carriage lamps now pour through the window where the drapes also seemed to swim into the frosty night air. Jane had her eyes squeezed shut and her arms extended toward Elizabeth. Elizabeth, too, saw her own arms — empty of Jane — extended, as they were thrust apart by the jolting of the carriage. And then the crawl of time sped suddenly to a fearful speed as Elizabeth felt her shoulder hit the side of the carriage. Then her head knocked painfully against the ground as the glass of the window shattered beneath her.

  The lamp light through the carriage window above her seemed strange. It did not seem natural that she should be looking up to see the window. She tried to move, but her arms felt so heavy, and the weight on her chest was oppressive. She struggled to keep her eyes open for she was feeling quite sleepy suddenly, and when the light from the lamp outside the window flickered and then sputtered out, she found she welcomed the dark, for her head was beginning to pound mercilessly.

  The weight on her chest moved and she realized it was Jane. Jane! Her mind cried but she could not get her mouth to say the word.

  “Lizzy . . . ” Jane’s groggy voice sounded miles away. “Lizzy, are you all right?”

  Elizabeth struggled to find her voice. It seemed her mind was too tired to speak and the connection to her mouth no longer there. I must speak. She could hear her sister’s pleas, and now distant voices were coming from outside. Elizabeth mustered the last of her energy and resisted the sleepiness enough to manage a quiet whisper.

  “I am cold, Jane. It is so very cold.”

  “Lizzy! Stay with me; you are going to be well. Help is here, and we are rescued. Lizzy, stay with me!”

  To Elizabeth it seemed as if Jane was moving away from her. Do not leave me, Jane. Her thoughts were getting sluggish now, and she could not find her voice. The lethargy began to drown her again. It engulfed her like a thick, dark blanket, and she welcomed the night that consumed her. The pain was now fading and sleep beckoned. Somewhere the distant, hollow sound of the church bell echoed midnight.

  Chapter 3

  Raising her small hands up to her face, Elizabeth rubbed her eyes to see whether she could clear the scene before her. Eyes focused again, she allowed her unbelieving gaze to wash over her surroundings. It was as before, only with every passing minute, she became more aware of the unfeasibility of it all. Yet there were emotions stirring, feelings engulfing her. She was simply in the most amazing, most beautiful place
she could ever imagine. Never in her life had she experienced such a sense of belonging and warm contentment as she was then experiencing. The entire space had a pull on her as if her very soul was saying this place was just as it ought to be. Just as its creator intended. Drawing in deeply, Elizabeth held her breath and closed her eyes once again to savor every detail.

  It often happens that, when one is deprived of one of their senses, the others immediately come to the fore. Such was the case with Elizabeth as she stood, arms relaxed at her side, slightly extended with palms facing up as if expecting some sort of heavenly endowment to gently settle on her shoulders. She expelled her breath and became aware of the warm leather scent that danced around her, swirling with the traces of wood smoke. Turning her head to the side, she thought she might have even detected a hint of lemon in the air. A wide, genuine smile spread across her features as she opened her eyes again.

  It was quite possibly the most beautiful view upon which she had ever rested her eyes. The place had both the ability to feel open, imposing and cavernous and yet also warm and welcoming. The colors were muted, yet rich and inviting. Surely, this is heaven. Laughing quietly, for any louder sound did not seem reverent enough for such a place, Elizabeth spun with childlike innocence. Her delight captured easily in her eyes and upon her countenance. She was having the most delightfully bizarre and astounding dream.

  “Dream of dreams,” she whispered.

  No other explanation could account for finding herself in a place she had never before seen. Nodding her head, Elizabeth confirmed in her mind, that yes, indeed she must be dreaming. And yet, I cannot fathom that my imagination could create such place. Allowing her eyes to drift to the vision before her, she acknowledged to herself with a cheerful smile, marked with humor, that her heaven would most certainly be this place. A place filled to the brim with knowledge, adventures, and excitement. A place she should like to spend a great deal of time. In her dream of dreams, Elizabeth found herself standing in the center of a luxurious and expansive library.