Haunting Mr. Darcy

by KaraLynne Mackrory

  “Darcy, tell us about this lady.”

  The gentleman turned and went to place his glass upon the sideboard. His fingers rested on the polished wood lightly as his head fell forward. “There is nothing much to tell.”

  “I very much doubt that, Darcy. Come on man, why do you resist this?”

  Anger burned rapidly up through Darcy’s chest, both with Fate and at his cousin’s intrusion. “Blast it, Richard! There is nothing to tell!” Hearing a gasp and seeing the startled face of his sister, Darcy remembered her presence, and he was immediately deflated. “Forgive me, Georgie,” he offered in defeat.

  Georgiana stood then and crossed to her brother. Tears welled in her eyes as she saw the suffering reflected in his. Wordlessly she wrapped her arms about him and pressed her face to his chest. Darcy slowly lifted his arms to return her embrace, patting her back softly.

  Pulling away slightly so she might see his face, she pleaded with him gently. “Will you not let us help you, William? We love you and do not wish to see you so burdened.”

  Darcy said not a word at first; his gaze lifted slowly from her tender entreaty to his cousin. There he saw the same compassion reflected, and the fortress he had been attempting to construct around his shattered heart came tumbling down with one silent look of compassion from his family.

  Feelings and emotions he had been trying to keep in check for several months now came pouring out of that stronghold. He disentangled himself from his sister and collapsed into the nearest chair. With his head in his hands, he said nothing for several minutes while his cousin and sister looked at each other for help.

  A faraway voice emanated from between Darcy’s hands. “I very much doubt you will believe me even if I were to tell you,”

  Georgiana kneeled at her brother’s feet and pulled at one of his hands so she could see his face. “Will you not trust us to try?”

  Darcy moved the hand she held to her cheek and brushed it tenderly. He only realized then that she had used words very similar to ones he had said to her when in the anguished aftermath of Ramsgate.

  Acquiescing, Darcy helped his sister to rise and brought her again to her seat before returning to his. As he formulated words and decided on how to tell such a fantastical tale, he again allowed his head to fall into his hands, overwhelmed.

  He looked up to his sister first. “Do I assume you have been told who Elizabeth is?”

  Georgiana shook her head and looked to her cousin.

  “She is a lady your brother met in Hertfordshire last autumn while visiting Bingley. He became enamored and admired her a great deal.”

  Joyfully, Georgiana turned to her brother for confirmation. Darcy nodded blankly.

  “Your brother’s object of admiration comes from neither esteemed connections nor any wealth. For that reason, he did not pursue her. Instead, he left Hertfordshire with the express hope of forgetting her and finding someone more suitable. How do I do so far, Darcy?” Richard asked kindly.

  Darcy finally found his voice and continued from there. “She was so very beautiful.” He paused to draw in a strangled breathe. “So very lively . . . and I was completely under her spell. For some time while in London, I found it impossible to forget her. The distraction drove me to madness, or so I thought.” Darcy laughed without humor, causing his companions to frown. “The rest of the story will seem rather impossible to believe, I fear. I wonder a little now whether I have only imagined it myself.”

  He then began to relate, with tender, yet painful recollection, his first discovering Elizabeth’s spirit in his library. He told of the happiness and fear that mixed within him at seeing her before him and his conviction that he had lost his mind. His narration of the ensuing days of struggle and denial, and then acceptance and reconciliation with Elizabeth over their strange connection was shared with the utmost reverence on Darcy’s side. He spoke as if seeing it all in his mind. Speaking of the thrill of falling in love and the discovery of his feelings being returned was a bitter tonic for Darcy to swallow. His throat often constricted, almost preventing his giving voice to such sacred moments.

  “All the while she thought she was dreaming, and you thought you were going mad,” Georgiana summarized, clearly wanting to believe such a heartfelt story. The tone of her voice told Darcy that she did not condemn him, even if she had yet to be convinced.

  He nodded and told of how they argued over it, laughing once at the memory of their quarrels. Their time together was related with warmth. He talked of her love for lemon tarts as if it were the most charming thing in the world to him. His profound love for Elizabeth made this confession near impossible at times, his occasional pauses bringing tears to his sister’s eyes.

  At one point, Darcy stopped talking to collect his thoughts for the next part of the improbable story. His family remained silent, occasionally exchanging glances between them. He then began to tell how Elizabeth regained her memory, seemingly because of his declaration of love for her. As if in a dream, he related how they discovered why she was there on the same night that Colonel Fitzwilliam had confronted him over his strange behavior.

  “She was there then? I was ape drunk that evening, but I do remember something of this part.”

  Darcy half smiled in remembrance. “That you were.”

  Richard took up a seat near Georgiana as Darcy began to relate his and Elizabeth’s elated discovery of her accident. Though worried for her, Darcy and Elizabeth were glad to have some kind of explanation and eager to reunite her with her body so that they could realize their fondest wishes. Laughing he shared their first attempts at reuniting Elizabeth and his concealing himself under the bed, the indignity of it having dissolved into a fond memory by now. Unbeknownst to him, the other occupants of the room looked at each other with utter astonishment at this part of the story, as if it were the most unbelievable part!

  He recounted only briefly their last day together, keeping certain parts to himself — a private treasure just for him. When it came time to speak of the reunion, he excused himself to the window as a well of emotion overtook him and made it quite impossible for him to speak.

  Recollecting privately that tender moment, their last minutes together and the kiss they shared was profoundly bittersweet in its agony for Darcy. He had not allowed himself the tortured pleasure before now. They had declared their love again mere moments before as they stood outside her door. The kiss they shared was still etched on the memory of his lips. And yet, he could not have known that his actions would set in place the binds that restricted his heart now in powerful agony and besieged him daily for the past two months.

  “That evening, an idea came to me as to how we might be successful in reuniting Elizabeth with her body. We secreted ourselves to Longbourn in the dark early hours before dawn. When we got there . . . well, I — we — engaged in the measures I had thought might bring about the solution.”

  “What was it? What did you do?” Georgiana said in eager anticipation, having become transfixed in this marvelous tale of love and devotion.

  Darcy looked at his cousin, a silent communication between them confirming to him that Richard knew what it was that Darcy had done. He moved his eyes to take in her youthful merriment and wonder that expressed itself so beautifully on his sister’s face then. Knowing her to be quite grown, if her earlier show of determination were any indication, Darcy still felt a brotherly instinct that made him uneasy telling her of the kiss.

  “Suffice it to say, Georgie, it worked.”

  Georgiana made to protest, knowing that her brother was censoring his story for her benefit, but the firm grasp of her cousin’s hand on hers forestalled her. She looked at Richard with frustration only to see him shake his head slightly at her, the look in his eye telling Georgiana that he would not relent in this case.

  With obvious reluctance, she turned back to her brother and encouraged him to continue, suspecting her brother’s actions. “So Elizabeth was restored to herself! Oh how wonderful! What happened ne
xt, William?”

  Darcy swallowed, grateful that his confessions had worn at his emotions enough to render him quite numb. With a detached voice, he told of tea at Longbourn and his discovery of Elizabeth’s having not remembered a thing.

  After several profoundly quiet minutes, Darcy drew in a deep breath; feeling a little less burdened, he turned to his companions. “And that is the end of the story. I came directly to Pemberley and have kept myself quite busy, attempting to will my own recalcitrant heart to follow Elizabeth’s example and forget our time together.” Nobody spoke for several minutes more. Darcy stared with unseeing eyes out the window, his heart far away in another part of the kingdom.

  “I believe you, Brother,” Georgiana said softly. He acknowledged her words with a smile and looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam.

  “Well I think it does you little good for us to believe you, or more to the point, it does the situation little good. What are you going to do now, Darcy?”

  “I do not have the pleasure of understanding you, Richard. There is nothing left to do.”

  “I would have to disagree with that, Cousin. How is your current method working for you? You are exhausting yourself — and your servants — and to what end? Has her memory faded in the least?”

  “No,” Darcy said pointedly.

  “Then I think there is naught but one thing you can do, my erstwhile Romeo.”

  Darcy was not amused by Richard’s teasing and, having no patience for it, glared at him.

  “The way I see it, Darcy,” Colonel Fitzwilliam began, unmoved by the warning in his cousin’s expression. “You have wooed her in the spirit and now you must woo her in the flesh.”

  “Richard!” Darcy scolded, sending shocked, wary eyes towards his young sister.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam began to laugh then, shaking his head. “I certainly did not mean that in the way in which you took it, Darcy, but if that is what is on your mind — ”

  “That is quite enough, Richard!” Darcy growled, his ears growing pink as he avoided looking at his cousin or sister then.

  Georgiana began to laugh, catching the attention of both gentlemen. “My dear sirs, I have read more scandalous things in my novels! Let us not get distracted from our course over a few wicked words. William, I believe you take our cousin’s meaning. You must go to Elizabeth and make her fall in love with you again. You must make her remember.”

  Georgiana’s words settled on the air with a heavy significance that stirred Darcy’s heart. He felt it beat once, twice, as if coming to life again. Hope was a fickle lover, and he was not sure he wanted to place his trust in it. And yet the idea of seeing her again, of gaining back her love was a temptation that his frail heart positively yearned for.

  Darcy looked at his companions, profoundly relieved and grateful that they seemed to believe his confession. That at least was a small miracle; he would need a much larger one to do what his cousin suggested.

  “I am afraid I do not know how it is to be done.” When he had gained her heart before, she had had no choice but to spend time in his company due to their bond. That was certainly to his advantage then, but now he had no such mystical ally.

  The sentimental advice he received then came from a surprising quarter. It was not his tenderhearted, romantic sister but his war-hardened cousin.

  “Elizabeth told you, Darcy, that she believed Fate had destined you two to be together. Whatever force brought you together in the first place will aid you in the second. The way I see it, you two might be part of the greatest love story ever known. I cannot think that two souls so connected in life or death can be so easily separated. Her mind may not remember, but her heart will, Darcy.”

  Darcy bit his lip, hesitant as hope began to encompass more of the hole in his chest. After a time, he looked at both his companions and cautiously nodded.

  “I will go to Elizabeth and try to make her fall in love with me again.”

  Georgiana squealed and jumped to her feet to rush to his side, and he found himself encompassed once again by her delicate arms. He looked at his cousin and allowed him to see the fear that still lurked in his heart as he returned his sister’s hold.

  Darcy attempted some levity. “I suppose I ought to tell Jacobs the library will have to wait.”

  “I most seriously doubt that man cares one jot about your library, Darcy,” Richard said as he walked to them and pointed out the window. Under a tree some distance off, his steward leaned against a trunk, quite asleep.

  Darcy looked a little embarrassed as he said with a small laugh, “I have been working him quite relentlessly.”

  Georgiana laughed as she wiped the tears from her face with a square of linen from her pocket. She swatted her brother with the fabric and said, “Well then, Brother, what are you waiting for? Make haste and bring me back a sister.”

  “I will direct my valet to begin preparations to leave for Hertfordshire early tomorrow, Georgie. I will do my best, I assure you.”

  They began making their way out of the study when Richard cleared his throat. “A fat lot of good that will do, Darcy. Miss Elizabeth is in Kent.”

  “Kent?” Darcy stopped, surprised at the news. “How do you — ”

  “She is currently visiting her friend, the good vicar’s wife. The vicar of Hunsford parish.”

  “Indeed!” Darcy said, a genuine smile about his lips. He was feeling lighter than he had in months. “Is Easter not almost upon us, Richard? Our Aunt Catherine will be expecting us soon.”

  Richard sighed dramatically and patted his cousin’s back. “A necessary sacrifice, I fear, for the cause.”

  Georgiana rolled her eyes and left the two with a parting hug and a skip in her step as she went off to her room.

  “Darcy . . . ” Richard called his cousin, his tone serious, after they watched Georgiana disappear up the stairs. Darcy looked at him, his brows lowered.

  Richard eyed Darcy squarely and said, “You know that I do believe you.”

  “I do and I thank you.”

  “Good, good.” Richard cleared the unanticipated emotion from his voice. With the return of his usual carefree tone, he added, “Into battle we go, comrade.”

  Laughing, the smile reaching his eyes for the first time since the night before Elizabeth’s reunion, Darcy patted his cousin’s back and declared with vigor, “Onward!”

  Chapter 23

  “Well that went rather badly,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said after calling on the parsonage shortly upon their arrival in Kent.

  Darcy followed after him, dazed as he thought about the magnificence of Elizabeth and the pleasure that stole through him when he was first able to rest his eyes upon her again. He paid little attention to his cousin’s words while he savored a warmth that was speeding the tempo of his heart and healing its hurt just by having seen her.

  “To Mrs. Collins you paid your compliments with your usual reserve, and whatever might be your feelings towards her friend met her with every appearance of composure,” Colonel Fitzwilliam mocked with frustration.

  He was disappointed in his cousin and in the visit as a whole. Darcy had sat nearly mute during the visit, content to look upon Elizabeth with that damned enigmatic smile upon his face while Colonel Fitzwilliam was left to carry the conversation with Miss Bennet. It was a chore he did not feel too put upon to perform; nonetheless, it was his cousin who was supposed to be wooing the lady. The only outcome of the visit that satisfied Colonel Fitzwilliam was that now, having met the lady, he could feel completely at ease with his cousin’s affection. She was everything that was charming, all unaffected airs and graceful yet witty conversation. And beautiful — gads, she was beautiful, he thought with no little envy for his cousin.

  Unbeknownst to the gentlemen walking around the side of the parsonage as they made their way to the path that led back to Rosings, a window above them was opened for fresh air, and the lady currently being discussed sat upon its sill. Looking down, she pondered the two gentlemen. She had been surprised to have
them call so soon upon their arrival in the area. Charlotte suggested it was due to her that they paid such a compliment but Elizabeth could not but protest such an absurd idea. Strange as it was, though Mr. Darcy did not speak much to her, she felt an awareness of him that she had never felt before. Not true. She had felt something of it when she last saw him at Longbourn but that was such a short visit and quite some time ago; she had put it off then as nothing. Briefly, Elizabeth wondered whether there might be some truth to Jane’s suspicions.

  The gentlemen stopped just below her, and Elizabeth sucked in a short breath when she heard her name — her Christian name.

  “Elizabeth,” Darcy, said speaking it like a caress.

  “Are you attending me to me all, Darcy? Your manner of wooing just now could not convince a — ”

  “She is every whit as beautiful as I remembered,” Darcy interrupted, still not paying his cousin any attention.

  “You are every whit as beautiful as I remembered.” Elizabeth stumbled backwards off the sill, almost losing her balance completely — and not just physically. The remembered words flashed through her mind, triggered by his actual words outside. Neither occurrence could she believe was possible to have been uttered by such a man. And yet, somehow, unfathomable as it was, she could remember his saying once directly to her the sentiment he had just shared with his cousin. The fleeting memory was jarring, and all at once, Elizabeth felt unsettled and discomposed. Her hands flew to her head and her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to hold on to the memory, but to no avail. It was as unreal as a dream and just as slippery.

  In her confused state she stayed, trying to shake the distraction of such implausible words from such an implausible source. That they gave her pleasure, she could not deny, for she felt the excited fluttering in her chest. She had not yet recovered from the surprise of what had happened — it was impossible to think of anything else — and by the time she recovered enough to remember the gentlemen outside, they were gone.