Page 5 of Fitzwilliam Darcy Undone
Chapter Two
Lizzy chewed the inside of her lip as the carriage bounced along the rough road leading to Longbourn, her family’s estate.
“You’re quiet, Lizzy. Still upset the dull gentleman from Derbyshire didn’t ask you to dance?” Lydia teased while Kitty giggled behind her hand.
“I would have declined even if he had, so to answer your question, I am not upset.”
“I can’t believe he has the gall to call himself a gentleman,” Mama exclaimed. “Not handsome enough to tempt him. Hmmph... wait until your papa hears how he slighted you. He’ll know what to do.”
“Mama, I am not injured. You need not worry on my account.”
“It’s just not right that an amiable man like Mr. Bingley has such an odious friend.” She smiled at the phrase her mother espoused. This was not the first time Mama spoke out loud the thoughts of her second born. It had become so commonplace; Lizzy almost didn’t notice them anymore. She dragged her attention back into the carriage as Mama continued. “I’m torn, dear Lizzy. I so wish Jane to gain Mr. Bingley’s attention, but his friend – I care not if he the richest man in all of Derbyshire.”
“I’m glad you are not swayed by his wealth.”
“His cousin was so handsome and so... so regimental,” her youngest sister sighed out.
“All you see is the uniform, Lydia. Don’t forget a man comes along with it, and you don’t know what his temperament is like.”
“What you are talking about, Lizzy?” Mama cried out. “How could an officer not be a gentleman?”
“Clothes do not make a man, Mama.”
“You know nothing of men.”
“I know some of them are not what they seem.”
“You have no experience in these things, young lady. Why, these officers protect England from that scourge across the water. They are honorable men.”
“Mama. I never said they were not honorable, I’m only cautioning my younger, more impressionable sister to see the person before her and not just the uniform.” She laid a comforting hand on her mother’s arm. “They are quite dashing, but all of them at one time were young boys asking their own mama for a sweet treat.”
Her mother chuckled. “You paint a picture, Lizzy. I’ll concede that you are right, and I’ll concede with Lydia that they looked handsome.”
Elizabeth allowed the conversation to drop. She’d never convince her mother that not everyone was who, or what they projected in polite company. She should know. She’d hidden her abilities for years and lived in continual fear she’d be found out and run out of town.
Later, as she lay next to a sleeping Jane, she re-lived the evening events. Normally she experienced vague images and feelings from those around her, however, in the past few months, the images and feelings had grown in intensity. She’d also begun to notice that what she thought, or more specifically, things she spoke, came into being. It was the strangest thing. If she wished her tea was hot, it was. If she wished for another shade of embroidery thread, it appeared. As far as she knew, no one else in the family had experiences like this.
This brought her thoughts around to the time she was almost fifteen and it was Jane’s sixteenth birthday, Papa asked for Jane to come into his book room – alone. She’d waited for her sister in the adjoining parlor, wondering if he had a special birthday gift for her much-loved older sister. It was then, without even trying, she heard Papa question Jane. At first, she was shocked she could hear them so clearly through the room vent, as though she were in the room with them. She’d started to move to the other side of the room so she couldn’t be accused of eavesdropping only to stop when she realized that every answer Jane gave to Papa’s peculiar questions was wrong. At least, they didn’t feel right. Lizzy knew she’d have answered different every time. That night, she asked Jane what she thought of Papa’s strange behavior. Her sister had looked at her like she had two heads.
“I haven’t spoken with Papa since breakfast. You and I spent the whole day together.”
No matter how many times she broached the subject, Jane remained adamant that she’d not seen her father in his book room. It was as though her memory had been erased.
On her own sixteenth birthday, Papa asked her to come into his book room – alone. Frightened there might be something wrong with her, she’d parroted back to her father the answers Jane had given the year prior. At the end of their discussion, he’d whispered a few words, waved his hand in an unfamiliar manner and she’d smiled through it all, not knowing the reason why he’d done what he’d done.
After that, on the sixteenth birthday of Mary and then Kitty, Papa sequestered them in his book room. She was positive they’d been subjected to the same inquisition she and Jane endured. The only one who’d not done this was Lydia, but she wouldn’t turn sixteen for another ten months. Neither Mary, nor Kitty had any memory of meeting with their father. It seemed she, Elizabeth, was the swan cygnet among the Bennet ducklings and Papa hadn’t discovered her, yet.
~~oo0oo~~
Darcy stood unnoticed in the darkness, across from the Meryton Assembly Hall. It was almost two o’clock in the morning when the hall finally emptied. He gathered the shadows closer and waited. The Bennet’s were among the last of the villagers to leave and all six women clambered into a large, nondescript carriage. As soon as their conveyance began to lumber down the road he returned to his horse and followed, staying well out of sight of their tired driver.
They reached what he could only assume was Longbourn. No where near as grand as Netherfield, but still it was a fair-sized home, solidifying the fact the Bennet’s were one of the leading families in the area. He guided his horse in the opposite direction of the stables and after securing his horse, headed to the back garden of the house and waited as candlelight began to flicker in each room on the second floor.
Luck was on his side when Elizabeth appeared in one of the windows, her features softened by the light of the candle. She spent a few minutes staring out into the back garden and he once again gathered the shadows around him like a cloak. She closed the curtain and soon all rooms lay in darkness as the family slid into the arms of Morpheus.
Moving from the shadows, he crossed the garden and stood beneath her window. He waved his hand and opened the curtain. About to open his mind and enter her room, he paused. This obsession was becoming dangerous. He knew nothing about her, or her family. He’d sensed ancient wards on his ride to Longbourn, and that in itself was not unusual. England was littered with them, but these were newer than most, the magic leaving a taste of cinnamon on his tongue.
Following a hunch, he prowled about the garden, keeping an ear open for any servants that might still be about. His suspicions proved correct, the entire area surrounding the manor house had, at one time, been heavily warded. Whatever spell cast had since eroded, but it must have been quite potent, given its residual effects.
