Haunting Mr. Darcy

by KaraLynne Mackrory

  “Indeed it is. Imagine, Elizabeth, a bunch of ‘silly’ gentlemen at their clubs.”

  Hands coming to her mouth to cover her laugh, Elizabeth nodded. “It would be quite the scene.”

  Though he had introduced the topic, it reminded him briefly of his folly in taking her to such manly establishments, his actions once again causing him guilt.

  Elizabeth noted his changed attitude and questioned him.

  “I ought not to have taken you to those places, Elizabeth. Your father could call me out if he knew, and he would be justified in doing so.”

  Elizabeth nodded in agreement, brushing a piece of her hair aside as she said, “I suppose it will be left to us to make entirely sure that he does not hear of it then.”

  “You would keep my secret?” Darcy chuckled, his heart beating at the very thought of a secret alliance with Elizabeth. Despite the intimacies of their situation, every new proof, every word and look that gave away her feelings toward him was welcome.

  Elizabeth tapped her chin, broadening his smile at the charming way she looked, and pretended she would have to consider whether or not to protect Darcy in this manner. “I shall think very hard on it, you may be certain.”

  Darcy met Elizabeth’s eyes, and together they held each other in the soft gaze of true companionship. After many moments of contented silence, Darcy sat upright and, with brows raised in eager anticipation, asked, “Would you care for a game of chess?”

  “Ought not you to retire? It has become very late, William.”

  Darcy stood and, brushing off his trousers, walked toward the chess table resting along one wall of the room. Shaking his head, he answered her. “Indeed, not. I am not tired in the least.”

  Upon reaching her side again, he placed the table before her and pulled a companion chair to the other side. With a mischievous gleam in his eyes, he met her gaze. “Unless, of course, the lady protests for fear of losing.”

  Elizabeth’s head fell back, and her laughter echoed in her companion’s ears like a church bell. She pursed her lips and sent him a quelling look as she shook her finger at him. “You mean to frighten me, Mr. Darcy, by coming in all this state to play me? But I will not be alarmed though you provoke so well with your challenge. There is a stubbornness about me that never can bear to be frightened at the will of others. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”

  Darcy’s lips twitched, though at first he said not a word. “Indeed, I shall not say that you are mistaken,” he replied, “because you could not really believe me to entertain any design of alarming you. Shall we play then, Elizabeth?”

  “I am not afraid of you.”

  Darcy laughed heartily and then turned smoldering eyes upon her. “Shall we put a small wager on the outcome, Elizabeth?”

  She pretended to be in serious thought. Frowning, she slowly scrutinized Darcy’s person. When her eyes met his once again, she said, “Ladies do not place bets, Mr. Darcy.”

  Darcy flicked a piece of invisible lint off his jacket sleeve as he said with a shrug of his shoulders, “True, my dear; however, I dare say that most ladies do not venture into gentlemen’s fencing academies either.”

  “Unfair!” Elizabeth laughed. “You cannot claim guilt over exposing me to such scandalous places one minute and in the next, hold it against me. It is very ungenerous of you — and give me leave to say, impolitic too — and is provoking me to retaliate, sir.”

  Darcy could not be distracted by her attempts, however. “You did not answer me, Elizabeth. Shall we wager?”

  “What do you propose?” She answered, her heart beating now quite frightfully.

  “Winner may ask for a favor to be granted at a later time.”

  His relaxed pose, as well as the indifferent tone of his voice, contradicted the heat in his eyes and caused her to look away, willing herself not to blush.

  After a moment, she lifted her chin and attempted to match his gaze. The fluttering in her chest caused her words to pour forth rapidly. “I will have you know, my father taught me the game, and such moves may come out that will put your chess master to shame, sir.”

  “Indeed.” He was undeterred. “A wager, Elizabeth?”

  “Fine, I agree to the wager. Though I must say — ”

  “Ahh, less talk, my dear. I think the lady postpones out of fear.”

  “Indeed not!” Elizabeth protested, laughing.

  Since she could not touch the pieces herself, she indicated to Darcy which one she wanted to move and where to move it, thus beginning their game.

  The game proceeded slowly after that, and despite their earlier fluency, they uttered hardly a word during the game. Darcy was pleased and impressed with Elizabeth’s ability, and he was enjoying the game thoroughly. When it was her turn, she would consider, choose a piece and tell him where to move it. Though her talent was obvious, his was far more practiced, and it allowed him to think on their situation further as he played the game.

  While considering their earlier failure, he reviewed what they believed about their current state of otherworldly connection. His appraisal of the past week brought about a couple of observations. Elizabeth’s spirit was transported to his keeping while her body slumbered. For whatever reason, they were fixed to each other for the duration as well. Neither was entirely correct as to why they were destined to such a state with each other. It was not until their struggle ceased that each was able to truly develop an understanding of the other’s character.

  This last observation caused Darcy to send a silent prayer of gratitude for the chance to work past his own stupid arrogance, conceit, and selfish disdain of the feelings of others, especially of Elizabeth. It allowed him to realize that she was the prize and he was her inferior. He became lost, then, as his internal observations transitioned to an external one of Elizabeth. He watched as she bent her head to examine the board, carefully looking at her options. Her lip tugged temptingly under her teeth, and her hand was unconsciously worrying a curl by her ear. She tucked her feet beneath her in relaxation. He could not regret the sweet picture of both elegance and innocence she presented.

  He continued to watch, enchanted as she determined her move and, with a triumphant twinkle in her eye, told him her maneuver, and while he moved the piece on the board, she held a wicked smile. She then looked up at him, expectantly, only to find his heated gaze.

  “’Tis your move, sir,” she said cheekily, grateful her voice did not betray the shakiness she felt on seeing him look at her with such devotion.

  Darcy shook his head, as if to clear it and lowered his eyes once again to their game. After examining her play and selecting his own, he settled once again into considering their plight. He weighed the words she had said in the carriage about being destined together by fate. Her memory of the accident and thus their only way of knowing what truly brought Elizabeth to his side, came only after they had learned to really love each other. Significantly, she could feel only his touch in a connection to her physical state. Indeed, he realized, in every element of this marvelous, unbelievable path they were on, something was required of both of them. As he considered this element, an idea settled into his mind with such strength that he was, for quite some time, insensible to any other thought.

  He leaned back in his chair, his hand coming to rest against his mouth, the game totally forgotten. His eyes again rested upon Elizabeth, and his heart beat faster as the idea became secure and gained strength. As he imagined what might happen, should his idea prove to be the key to her reunion, his very being warmed with a love so tender that he could think of nothing but that he wanted to try it immediately.

  He was not insensible, though, to what his part would be, and subsequently, his eyes could not meet her expectant ones after she told him what move to make for her. His cheeks colored almost imperceptibly, and he struggled for clarity of thought. Breathing deeply to reconcile his emotions, Darcy looked again at the board. He knew it would be easier for him should he win the wager for t
heir game and thus, duly motivated, considered his options. A path to victory soon became clear, and as he strategized, a slinking smile grew.

  Within a couple of exchanges, Darcy’s low voice spoke confidently. “Check.”

  Elizabeth quickly bent over the board and realized her precarious situation. With a triumphant shout, she was able to maneuver out of check with a little effort. Darcy smiled wickedly, making a move that forced the sacrifice of her queen to protect the king. Knowing that the end was in sight, Darcy was merciful and, when the time came, only whispered, “Checkmate.”

  Elizabeth sat forward, disbelievingly. “Indeed not!” she said, denying the sad fact of her loss until even she could see that nothing could be done. When that time came, she sat back in her chair and looked at her companion. A slow smile began to grow as she congratulated him on his win.

  “And what is to be your prize, sir?” she said, knowing she could not avoid it now.

  “We go to Longbourn again — indeed, this very evening, Elizabeth.”

  Surprised at his answer, Elizabeth stood to look out at the pitch-black sky. She then looked at the clock over the mantel and, seeing it was only a few hours before dawn, frowned at Darcy.

  “I believe you mean to say this morning, William. In a few hours, the sun will rise. Even then it would be far too early to call at my home and hope to be admitted.”

  “I do not expect to be admitted, Elizabeth. Indeed, I propose that we go now and risk that forgiving door we passed through earlier today.”

  Elizabeth stood shocked, and looking once again from Darcy to the blackness outside, she challenged him. “Why do you wish to go to Longbourn now? Our lack of success is not to be questioned, William. It was no less than an utter failure.”

  Darcy stood then and walked to her. Wishing very much to cup her cheek with his hand, he instead clenched his hands at his side. Looking down at her, he said softly, “I have an idea Elizabeth that . . . I know not how but . . . I feel quite strongly that it may work.”

  “What is it?” she said with half eagerness, half fear.

  “Do you not trust me?”

  Elizabeth swallowed and considered his words. She trusted her very life with him, and she may very well give him just that. There were still so many unknowns to their plight that she could not rule out any outcome. Slowly, she raised her eyes to his and nodded. “I trust you implicitly, William.”

  His eyes gleamed in anticipation then, and he said, “Then let us be off.”

  * * *

  Darcy paused at the side door through which they had previously gained access. He turned and tried to gauge Elizabeth’s expression in the near blackness of the night. The only light available to him was that from the stars and the silver moon above.

  “Would your family have hired a nurse to attend you at night, Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth thought about that for a moment before answering. “I do not believe we would have. More than likely one of my sisters or Hill would attend me.”

  Darcy frowned, his mind raced as he thought about how he might get past this potential obstacle. He almost decided to go back to Netherfield and try his chances again during a proper call to Longbourn. Before he could decide, though, he heard footsteps coming toward them.

  Alarmed, he gawked at Elizabeth. She nodded, understanding his fear and ventured in the direction of the footsteps to determine their source and any danger they might signify.

  “It is only Sue, our maid. She is one of our tenant’s daughters and has come to begin her work for the day,” Elizabeth said as she returned to him.

  He stood motionless at the door as the sound of the maid’s footsteps changed direction towards the other side of the house and the kitchens. He only drew in a relieved breath when Elizabeth confirmed the danger was gone.

  “I am concerned, Elizabeth, that we may encounter someone in your room.” Darcy finally voiced his fear.

  “Let us go in, and I shall see. Perhaps we shall be lucky and it is only Hill that attends me. She will have to leave soon to instruct the other servants on their day’s work.”

  Darcy wavered with indecision until his eyes settled on her face, lowering to her lips. He swallowed, and a hope began to grow in him that pushed the fear away like a light chases away the dark. He nodded and patted unconsciously at the small candle secreted in his pocket for when they got to Elizabeth’s chambers.

  Without a sound, they then repeated their actions from earlier in the day, entered the house, and were soon at the door leading to Elizabeth’s chambers. Silently, she motioned that she would go ahead and see whether there was anyone to encounter. Darcy waited, his heart in his throat and his breathing labored, whilst she was absent longer than he thought necessary.

  Eventually, she emerged through the wood door and said, “We are in luck, William. It is Hill, and she is just gathering her things, preparing to go down for the day. We have only a minute or so to wait.”

  Darcy’s eyes bulged, and he motioned excitedly at the door. Elizabeth, understanding his worry, answered, “She will not come through this door. I told you it is so little used that we have nothing to fear. She will exit through the main door. She always has.”

  Darcy closed his eyes as relief once again washed over him. But as the possibility of implementing his idea settled into his mind again, his heart began to beat erratically for another reason entirely.

  In another minute, Elizabeth confirmed that her housekeeper had left and they were free to enter without fear of discovery. She entered first as before, and when she noticed that Darcy did not immediately follow, she came back through the door.

  “The way is clear, William,” she said with earnest urging. “We ought to make haste; I fear we may not have long before she returns. Hill needs only to instruct the others in our service and will likely come again to watch over me. In fact, I am beginning to believe our earlier success was simply due to her attentions needed for Mr. Bingley’s arrival.”

  Elizabeth once again made to enter her chambers, but she was stopped when Darcy whispered her name. She halted and looked back at him expectantly. She was surprised and arrested at the look of tenderness that she found there.

  “I would have you know, Elizabeth, that I love you.”

  Her face melted into a warm smile as she said easily, “And I you.”

  “Whatever the outcome . . . should this not prove successful . . . ” Darcy’s quiet accent faded away, not wishing to give voice to the chance of another failure.

  “We will find a way.”

  Darcy nodded, his words lost in the thickness in his throat and the feelings manifesting themselves so powerfully within him.

  Together they entered her chambers. Darcy took out the candle and quickly lit it. Immediately, the shadows in the room were chased to the corners, and once again Darcy laid eyes on the delicate angel that was Elizabeth in life. They walked slowly towards the bed, and each took up a place on either side of it. Darcy looked down at Elizabeth and felt with greater conviction that he was the key this time to making Elizabeth whole again.

  “You have not said what your idea is, William. What is it you want me to do?”

  Darcy did not take his eyes from her sleeping form when he answered her. “Turn around, Elizabeth,” he answered softly.

  Elizabeth did not immediately follow his instructions and waited further to question him.

  He slowly lifted his eyes to take in her ghostly beauty again as he answered her. “We were all wrong before, Elizabeth. Before, it was just you trying to heal yourself. It occurred to me earlier that neither of us has really been whole without the other.”

  Here, he took up her earthly hand, and again Elizabeth gasped at the sensation that flew through her. She marveled at it and, with moist eyes, looked at the gentleman who held her heart and now her hand. He looked down at the hand in his and patted it with such tenderness that her eyes pooled over.

  Slowly he began to speak, all the while holding her hand, worshipping it as he lo
wered himself into the seat by her bedside. “I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child, I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, an only son — for many years an only child — I was spoilt by my parents who, though good themselves (my father, particularly, all that was benevolent and amiable), allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing — to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty, and such I might still have been but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!”

  He lifted his eyes to her and she noted his too were glossy with tears. “You see, my dear, I believe you need me as much as I have needed you to be whole.”

  “What is it you plan to do, William?” Elizabeth whispered, surprised when the words escaped her mouth, as she was certain she was too overwhelmed with emotion to speak.

  “Do you trust me?”

  Though he had not answered her but instead posed another question to her, she knew what she would say.

  “You have already asked me that once this evening, William. I trust you with my life and soul.”

  Darcy nodded, and together their eyes once again rested on Elizabeth’s sleeping body. After a moment, Darcy looked up at Elizabeth again as she stood opposite him. “Turn around, my love.”

  This time Elizabeth did as he asked and turned her back to him. He took only a second to confirm she did not watch. He was not certain that it mattered whether she witnessed, but somehow he thought that, if he were not successful at bringing her to herself again, it would be easier not to witness the immediate disappointment on her beautiful features.

  Slowly then, he leaned toward her body as it lay motionless before him. He drank in her comely features as they danced in the shadows of the flickering candlelight. Her lavender eyelids, closed in repose drew his eyes to her dark lashes, feather light against the alabaster softness of her cheeks.