Haunting Mr. Darcy

by KaraLynne Mackrory

  Indeed, much to her delight, Mr. Darcy’s will gave over only a moment later. She watched incredulously as he stilled further, slowly looking over his shoulder. His stormy look met her raised brow and amused shake of her head. She could see in his eyes a most odd combination of frustration and annoyance; a flicker of what might be construed as relief passed as well. His glance over his shoulder lasted mere seconds before he turned once again, determining, she presumed, to continue his denunciation of her presence.

  Laughing merrily, Elizabeth was not surprised to see him clench his hands into fists before soundly pushing the door open. Elizabeth’s laughter faded away as she entered what looked to be an elegant breakfast room. The aromas she detected earlier now overwhelmed her senses as she looked around her at the sumptuous spread displayed for Mr. Darcy’s pleasure on the sideboard along the wall. True to his quest, Darcy went forward and, pretending she was not about, procured himself only a cup of steaming coffee before settling himself in the tall-backed chair at the end of the table. A newspaper had been placed there already.

  “I daresay such a feast would have the potential to make me quite round, should I have the good fortune to experience it daily,” Elizabeth mused, not surprised that he made no reply.

  She walked closer to the dishes and although she realized she felt no actual hunger pains, she did almost feel a thirst and desire for the food before her.

  Darcy diligently ignored her comments but he found, much to his frustration, that he had been watching her for at least a full minute as she leaned over to examine the different foods before realizing he was doing so. With a jerk of his head, he looked away and then picked up his paper. Unfolding it with unnecessary energy, he bent his head to frame the paper around him. This efficacious barrier allowed him to keep his eyes away from the tantalizing vision of the curve of her neck extending over the sideboard, her closed eyes, and the altogether sensuous look about her delicate face as she inhaled the aromas of the breakfast table. Stifling a groan, he forced his mind to focus on the paper before him and attempted to engross himself in its written word. His hands tightened around the edges of the paper in a death grip since his ears could not close to the sounds coming from near the sideboard.

  “Hmmm,” Elizabeth breathed in the warm scones as she walked along toward the other pastries.

  Surprisingly, her actions and audible enjoyment of the aromas before her were not part of her purposeful game to distract and annoy Mr. Darcy. She was simply in raptures over the display of delicacies before her. And yet her innocent actions were most successful in disturbing the gentleman.

  “This seems most inconvenient,” Elizabeth mused pensively as she thought for the first time what a disagreeable situation she was experiencing being in a room full of delicious fare and unable to partake of any.

  Straightening, Elizabeth turned for the first time back to her companion. She smiled as she saw nothing but his white knuckles straining against the delicate paper. A wicked idea came to Elizabeth. Slowly, she walked closer to him and bending at the side of Mr. Darcy, allowed her head to pass through the paper to his side of it.

  “Anything of interest, Mr. Darcy?” she quipped as he sprang back in surprise.

  “Ahh!” Darcy jolted upright and dropped his paper. Elizabeth’s head coming through the center of his paper had given him a most alarming shock and tipped the scales of his tenuous composure.

  For the first time since leaving his chambers, he allowed himself to look into her eyes. A fleeting thought for the enchantment that danced in them was arduously shut out as Darcy steeled himself once again to her, all the while his heart pounding from her unearthly jest. Her face was close to his, which did nothing to calm the beating in his chest. To his relief, her enjoyment soon quieted as she, too, realized their proximity. Darcy’s lip twitched as her cheeks colored with warmth, and she stood abruptly, walking with feigned composure toward a nearby window. This power gratified him in small measure before his face grew stern and he willed himself again to adhere to his rules. I simply must ignore her until my mind grows tired of this lunacy — delightful lunacy, though it was.

  Elizabeth remained at the window for some time while her own emotions settled. Never had her face been so close to his, and the trifling distance did his looks no disservice. When she had realized as much, her heart galloped, and her mouth felt dry. His dark eyes fixed on hers furthered her disquiet as she realized with no small amount of amazement that she had almost missed his gaze since they had left his chambers — and it had not even been that long ago! She fingered the embroidered neckline of her dress as she thought through the puzzling mixture of emotions she was experiencing. In an attempt to settle herself in more familiar territory, she tried to recall his past offenses, finding the task arduous and ineffectual. She had simply meant to disturb and bother Mr. Darcy with her little joke with the newspaper. With renewed amusement, Elizabeth presumed that her attempt had been most successful. She recalled the way he shot upright and dropped the paper as if it burned him. He still would not learn, it seemed, that his plan to ignore her was not going to work.

  Elizabeth smiled as she turned to look upon Mr. Darcy, who was again attempting nonchalance as he reached for the silver tray of milk and sugar in front of him. She could prove to him that she was real and that his avoidance of her was useless, but she needed to do so without allowing him to rob her of her senses in the process. This is Mr. Darcy, for heaven’s sake! Not the charming Wickham or amiable Mr. Bingley. He was detestable, presumptuous and obnoxious. What did it matter that such a man was also devilishly handsome?

  “It matters not!” Elizabeth said aloud. Her companion did not react but instead, she saw, scooped a heavy spoon of sugar into his coffee. It was the second of such scoops she had seen him stir into his cup.

  “I never care for coffee myself,” Elizabeth said by way of conversation, not in the least bothered by his continued disregard.

  “I prefer my tea black, no sugar or cream.” Deciding a continuous monologue might do as well, Elizabeth walked towards the gentleman. “I cannot abide sugary, hot drinks.”

  Darcy chastised himself for almost responding then that he well knew her preferences, as he had noted them as early as her stay at Netherfield. Keeping his face blank, Darcy merely stirred a third scoop of sugar.

  “My goodness, sir. With so much sugar, it will resemble syrup more than coffee.” Her face contorted in a grimace of distaste.

  Elizabeth reached to place a hand upon the table then, her fingers accidentally brushing the discarded newspaper. The sensation she felt then was a flood of political news and a myriad of tedious social gossip. The blandness of the newsprint was absorbed as she remembered her new glorious accomplishment. The reminder gave her pause to consider whether she might try something new.

  Reaching her hand towards Mr. Darcy’s cup of coffee, Elizabeth murmured, “I wonder...”

  Causally, the gentleman moved his cup to his lips, as if only to partake of the drink, rather than keep it from her, though she knew the latter to be the case. Her entertainment at this subterfuge displaced her disappointment at not being able to see whether she could experience the beverage as she had so many other objects.

  Before she could think to try again though, the door opened quietly, and she watched with rapt attention as a graceful, striking creature entered. Her gold tresses glowed in the morning light streaming through the windows, and though her head was bowed, Elizabeth could see immediately that she was exquisite. Slowly her gaze left the newcomer to settle on Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth was stunned to acknowledge an almost immediate feeling of profound displeasure steal around her breast, constricting her breathing and causing her jaw to clench shut when she saw that the entrance of this beautiful lady into the dining room caused the most uninhibited look of pure joy envelope the gentleman’s entire countenance. A look, her heart whispered, not unlike the one he gave her when she first encountered him in the library the night before. Still, Elizabeth could not explai
n nor understand why seeing him look so happy in this lady’s presence disturbed her so. She was not a cruel person, and although she did not like Mr. Darcy, she did not wish him unhappy; and yet this unknown lady made him happy, and Elizabeth did not like it one bit.

  Unconsciously, Elizabeth crossed her arms about her and fixed her features to conceal the surging tempest inside her.

  To her right, Mr. Darcy stood immediately and quickly closed the distance to the intruder. Elizabeth’s mouth gaped as she saw him engulf the lady in a warm embrace and bend to kiss her cheek. The torment this scene caused inside Elizabeth was too overwhelming to account, and yet she could not take her eyes off of the tender scene.

  “Georgiana, my dear. Good morning,” Mr. Darcy said sweetly as he released her.

  “Good morning, Brother. I...I did not think to see you so early this morning. It was my understanding that you were out last evening.”

  Elizabeth drifted in a dazed state to sit in a corner chair during this exchange. His sister!

  Darcy turned with Georgiana and elegantly guided her to a chair next to his own. “You have not been misinformed, dear. I was out quite late. May I prepare you a plate, Georgie?”

  “Are you quite sure I am not disturbing you?” Georgiana looked at his crumpled newspaper and half-empty cup of coffee.

  “No, I should like to have your company. ’Tis disagreeable to dine alone,” Darcy said with a calmness that seemed unnatural to his sister. It puzzled her since she knew that he frequently preferred to breakfast alone lately. In truth, Georgiana did not know that her entrance into the room was the first time he had not been achingly aware of another presence in the room. Georgiana would prove to be a much-needed distraction.

  “As it is, I have a meeting with my solicitor soon, and so it is I who will not disturb your meal for long,” Darcy said with a smile to his sister. “I have not yet broken my fast in any case.”

  “Very well, then. I am always glad for your company.” Georgiana beamed at him.

  The tumult of emotions disturbed Elizabeth greatly. That she should at first feel jealousy — for that is what she knew she had experienced upon Georgiana’s entrance — was distressing enough, and yet the liberating feeling of relief that coursed through her when she realized that this beautiful woman was only his sister — His sister! — was even more unsettling. Why should she care that Mr. Darcy displayed such tender emotions for someone else? It took her several minutes of quiet reflection to calm herself and resolutely dispel the unfamiliar feelings. During her quiet contemplation, Darcy and his sister enjoyed morning pleasantries with each other.

  As Elizabeth slowly came to the present, she sat back with a new purpose to observe the siblings. Her mistaken assumption about Miss Darcy was easy to explain, for the young girl was as fair in her coloring as her brother was dark. Where his hair was curly, hers held only a gentle wave. When Elizabeth looked closer still, it was clear to her immediately that this could be no other than a relation of Mr. Darcy’s for the girl shared his discerning eyes. Darcy then said something to his sister that Elizabeth did not catch, but it made the girl giggle. Her smile, too, resembled her brother’s, though Elizabeth thought it was perhaps less engaging. Although it enhanced her beauty, her features did not light up as Mr. Darcy’s did on the rare occasions Elizabeth remembered having seen him smile. Examining her further, Elizabeth could see Miss Darcy took pleasure in her interaction with her brother, that they were close, and that the girl held him in fond affection. She found herself smiling at the two of them and being captivated by this charming side of Mr. Darcy.

  She also noted with some confusion that this Miss Darcy was not the girl she expected if she were to believe Mr. Wickham’s description. Though she did have an upright, proud air about her, Elizabeth detected that it was more an element of schooled discipline and that she seemed more unsure of herself rather than arrogant like her brother. Added to this was the clear regard the siblings had for each other, further evidence that Miss Darcy was not at all what Elizabeth had been led to believe.

  Mr. Darcy, she noted was different, too. Gone was the proud visage to which she was so accustomed. He was most solicitous of Miss Darcy as he asked her preferences and served her selections. When he placed the heaping plate before Miss Darcy, her eyes bulged at the portions.

  “Good heavens, William. I shall be sick if I eat all of this.”

  Darcy’s responding smile seemed slightly off to Elizabeth, causing her to observe him closer. He laughed with only the slightest edge to the sound and assured her she need not eat it all. When he turned to get his own plate, Elizabeth saw Miss Darcy look over her plate and then send a puzzled look towards her brother. Interesting, thought Elizabeth. It seemed to her that perhaps Miss Darcy thought that her brother’s behavior was atypical as well.

  Elizabeth smiled as she speculated that Darcy was happily using his sister as a distraction. Her suspicion was confirmed when she caught his fleeting glance as he returned to his seat. His face fell from its pleased look; he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, his back to his sister. Elizabeth realized the disappointment she saw then on his face was for still seeing her, and she experienced a twinge of pain that he should take such displeasure in her company, the glaring difference between his feelings towards his sister spurring her resentment further. Though if she could have known his thoughts, she would realize that it was not displeasure that he felt in her company but rather the opposite — to an extent with which he was not comfortable.

  She watched when he opened his eyes again. He purposely avoided her direction and feigned a look of contentment as he turned to face his sister once again. Elizabeth was not a person given to petty behavior, but she uncharacteristically decided then, in her wounded pride, not to leave the gentleman alone during his breakfast with Georgiana.

  Elizabeth stood and walked towards the table. She was satisfied to note the stiffening of Mr. Darcy’s shoulders. The siblings were discussing the previous night’s festivities, and Darcy was recounting the society he had met at the ball. Elizabeth listened as the girl asked about a cousin, a colonel in the army. Contenting herself to observe, Elizabeth circled the table waiting for an opportune moment.

  “And did you make a New Year’s Eve wish, Brother? Do you think Fate will target you this year?”

  Elizabeth was amused at the innocent tease. With practice and a little confidence, the girl might be absolutely charming. Elizabeth, curious about her brother’s response, looked to him. She frowned, mirroring the expression she found on his face. It seemed he was displeased with Miss Darcy’s attempt. Noting Georgiana’s bowed head, Elizabeth could see that the young girl also took notice of his reaction. Darcy was simply remembering that he had indeed made a New Year’s wish and, with a glance to the apparition across from him, noted Fate was definitely targeting him.

  “Mr. Darcy, you will make the poor girl cry with such a sour face. She was only teasing you. Have a heart, sir,” Elizabeth chastised.

  She knew he heard her because of the slight wince of his face and the immediate redirection of his eyes from his plate to his sister. The softening of his features then made Elizabeth wonder whether some thought other than the tease had caused his earlier grimace.

  “Forgive me, Georgie.”

  “No, it was I... I should never have behaved so imprudently, just now.” Georgiana trembled.

  Darcy awash with shame for his behavior was quick to reassure her. “Oh, my dear, think nothing of it. I was not offended in the least at your tease.” He offered her a generous smile to prove it and continued, “I was momentarily distracted, is all. I am sorry, but I believe I am not good company this morning.”

  Miss Darcy ventured further, taking heart in his renewed approbation. “I have been worried of late, William. You do not seem yourself.”

  Darcy blew out a long breath. “You are correct, Georgie. I have not been, but I assure you, I am working most heartily to change that.”

  Elizabeth was touched by hi
s sincere demonstration and so was his sister. Her resolution to annoy him temporarily set aside, she decided instead to allow Darcy a moment’s peace. For the next quarter hour, Elizabeth merely observed the siblings again. She noted that the longer she stayed out of sight, for she placed herself behind Mr. Darcy, the less his shoulders were fixed with tension. She also noticed the cadence of his voice took on a more melodic rhythm as he settled into a comfortable conversation again. Much to her astonishment, alas adding to the many things that astonished her since awaking in this bizarre state, she found that she was envious she had never met this relaxed, conversant Darcy. He had always had a tension in his voice when conversing with her. Elizabeth mused on this change for some time while she watched Darcy with Georgiana. It called to mind something she had heard before about the gentleman: “He can be a conversable companion if he thinks it worth his while.” Mr. Wickham had said that, and Elizabeth could see the truth before her.

  In her distraction, Elizabeth found herself veering once again to the sideboard, the luscious aromas still wafting toward her in enticing waves. Setting aside the puzzling character of Mr. Darcy, a character she was still having a difficult time trying to illustrate, Elizabeth looked at the variety of foods before her. In an attempt at discretion, Elizabeth placed her back to the other occupants of the room. She decided to once again see if she might experience the food as she had wished before Miss Darcy had interrupted with her entrance. She reached tentatively toward a lemon pastry on the platter closest to her. To her delight, she could taste the buttery goodness of the pastry, and although lemon had always been her favorite, she could not think of a time when tasting it seemed such a delicious and enchanting experience. The crème was rich, smooth and had a lightness that she wished she could actually have in her mouth. Marvelous!

  Experiencing these pastries was different from reading the books in the library, for she could touch them again and experience more of the book, or rather, different parts would stand out each time. With the food, she could taste the scrumptiousness of it, but it did not satiate her. It was a strange sensation to feel hungry, or more to know you were hungry, but not really to feel the pangs of hunger. It was as if her mind was disengaged from her body; she knew she wished for food and drink but could not feel her body’s recognition of it.