by Jemma Thorne
Please, oh please, let no one have heard the screaming!
I gestured to the malevolent presence my earlier words still held at bay. Stalled, but not destroyed. I had a feeling that together, we could change that.
“Listen to me – we can stop it!” I told Mrs. Jenkinson.
Her eyes widened. She nodded eagerly. “Yes! I’ll do anything. Please—”
“Repeat after me.”
The words of my spell seemed to ring in the air as I spoke them, hovering there, a protective shield against the unnatural smoky form I fought.
The wraith writhed and pulsed, quaking as Mrs. Jenkinson’s voice joined mine, raising the words that would banish it from this place.
I put the entire force of my will behind the words, pushing at it with all of my mental energy. Mrs. Jenkinson was shaky, but she held on, giving me more of a boost than she could understand.
It wasn’t enough.
And then I remembered the crystals.
I snatched them up, all three of them, and spoke the words of the spell a final time. As I finished I laughed, and I tossed the burden of the stones into the lake.
A screech filled the air, like a great building collapsing, or a gigantic wave crashing down. It lasted forever, as the wraith began to thrash, its pattern circular and halting. It was as if something were holding it by the tail and whipping it back and forth. A great sigh seemed to erupt from the water’s surface, where the stones had disappeared.
Mrs. Jenkinson clutched my arm and said a hushed prayer.
We watched as the wraith whipped to and fro in its death throes, and sank toward the water’s surface. When the smoke touched the water, a slight hiss could be heard, and all was still in the forest for a moment as the wraith was sucked into the depths.
A bit of steam marked the place where it had gone.
“I didn’t mean…” Mrs. Jenkinson sobbed. “It said…it said it would help her. I only wanted her to be stronger. And then, it didn’t help at all!”
“It’s over now—”
“I couldn’t stop! Every week I was down here, thinking why am I here? Every time was the same. But I couldn’t not come,” she pressed on, like she had to tell me everything. She needed the company in her impotent guilt.
I patted her arm, guilty at the thought of what Clarice had pushed me to do earlier.
We watched the water’s surface a moment longer, the moonlight rippling across it, but the wraith was gone. The air felt different. Lighter.
I wasn’t worried. The thing would not be back. Mrs. Jenkinson was free of it, as was Miss de Bourgh. I wondered how life would change for her, now that she would no longer be under its thrall. I pictured her hale, her face raised to the summer sun, a happy smile and shining eyes. Mr. Darcy lifting her chin so he could kiss her…
I shook my head and banished the thoughts.
I helped Mrs. Jenkinson back to the house, my heart heavy.
* * *
Three days later, I left Kent in the same carriage I’d arrived in.
Everything looked different. And it wasn’t just that spring had taken a firm grasp on the land like a painter with a brush, dotting the landscape with color where it had been all shades of gray and green on that early March day six weeks ago.
Six weeks. I felt I had lost more than I had gained from them.
Clarice sat across from me, her spectral form impossible to ignore, try as I might. I hadn’t spoken with her since that night by the lake. I wished she would disappear. And I worried she was beginning to guess how I felt. What would she do if I acted on the plan that had occurred to me after that night with Mrs. Jenkinson?
I shivered. I could wait to find out. I was still attempting to understand all that had happened in the last few days.
Darcy’s proposal. My breath caught when I thought of it – more now than just after. How callous I had been…how unconcerned with anything but my own pride and justifications. I had utterly betrayed my family with my angry dismissal.
Darcy’s admission of how he’d cast Jane aside in the name of friendship, how he’d pulled Mr. Bingley away from her because of the rest of us Bennets. Because we were not worthy of their company, much less worthy to marry one of their standing. All of this followed by the aforementioned, stunningly miscalculated proposal. Angry as it made me, I did not want to speak to Jane of it. What good could come by hurting her with that news?
My ill advised reaches into witchcraft. When I’d sensed a mystery, I could not let well enough alone. Had I done any good at Rosings, or had I been in the wrong? I had sent the wraith out of this world, but I couldn’t heal the damage it had done to the household. They might have been better off if I had never been involved. I would never be able to answer that question fully, and the questioning itself was a sort of haunting I’d never envisioned.
And Clarice. My great-grandmother’s spirit was with me now, the threat of always between us. I had seen the darkness in her the other night. Before that I had trusted her implicitly – now I doubted.
The carriage crept on, London and Jane drawing ever closer. I was carrying home more secrets than I’d left with.
The End
* * *
Ghost of a Pemberley Bride
Chapter 1
Though I had been home for nearly a month, the sight of Lady Leticia’s house gave me a feeling of relief I hadn’t experienced since my return to Longbourn. All had been chaos for weeks at home, with the removal of the local regiment of soldiers to Brighton, and my sister Lydia’s departure to accompany her friend Mrs. Forster to the same destination. Afterward, Kitty had been near inconsolable for the better part of a fortnight, echoed by the same sighs from Mother, who could remember when a certain regiment had left town in her youth and her own broken heart at the departure of so many eligible men.
Jane hadn’t wanted me to visit Lady Leticia and had attempted to postpone until I realized she would never come along. I had finally decided to make the short walk on my own. In just a few days I would leave with the Gardiners for a trip north – the highlight of my summer.
I needed to speak with Lady Leticia before I left. The secrets I’d imparted to Jane in whispered conversations – Darcy’s jilted proposal and part of the contents of his letter the following day, at least the parts I could share with Jane without wounding her terribly – weren’t the only dark thoughts weighing on me.
Life with a tag-along ghost was becoming too much to bear. At any moment, Clarice could emerge, whispering her thoughts on my conversations and actions. My own head wasn’t safe. I did my best not to think about it, to ignore Clarice and the constant interruptions of my train of thought caused by such close proximity with a spirit...it was as if I shared everything with Clarice. And I was becoming more and more convinced that I wanted no part of it. But how did one go about evicting a ghost? Clarice was family, though far removed, and dead...could I bring myself to confront her?
I could only hope that Lady Leticia could advise me.
And so, I knocked at the elderly woman’s door and waited for admittance, confident of a happy reception and reunion. It had been too long since we had spoken in person.
The welcome was warm, as expected. Lady Leticia did not rise from her chair, but her smile was radiant when the servant ushered me in and she invited me to pull a chair closer so we could talk. I couldn’t help but notice Lady Leticia’s shaking hands.
“Are you well?” I asked.
“As well as I can expect to be at my age, dear. Now sit. And tell me how you’ve gotten on since the last time we met.”
Though she seemed weak, Lady Leticia’s eyes were sharp as they took in my face.
I wasted a few minutes filling my friend in on my visit to Rosings and Hunsford, about the wraith and Miss Anne de Bourgh, but those fierce eyes kept narrowing as I filled space with idle chatter.
“I have a feeling that your visit is not just for catching up on your youthful adventures. What is the matter, Lizzy?”
My throat grew tight and tears threatened. “Everything?” I ventured.
Lady Leticia laughed. “That can’t be. I am sure you are making much of small trials, compared with being restricted to a chair for the rest of your life.”
I shook my head. It might be the first time that Lady Leticia hadn’t been able to cheer me instantly. Too much had happened, and the feeling of uncertainty that made my belly clench didn’t dissipate. Now that I was faced with explaining...where did I start?
Leticia gathered herself and leaned forward, her eyes still intent on my face. “Something has you tied in knots. You can tell me, child. You know it’s safe.” Her eyes twinkled in a friendly conspiracy, and indeed, I had always been able to talk about difficult subjects – subjects most of the world decried – with this particular woman. But now…
A strange clamor filled my ears and I shook my head to be rid of the sound. Except it came from within and it would not be dislodged so easily.
And then Clarice stood over Leticia’s shoulder, shaking her head. “What would you have this old woman do? It is so like one of your age to drop your burdens on an elder, if burden is the right word for me.”
It was a challenge. One that I couldn’t answer. Still, I had to speak. “It seems I am sharing my body with an ancestor,” I said, a little surprised that I could sum it up in one sentence.
Leticia blinked. “Tell me more,” she said soberly.
Clarice stared at me from behind Leticia and a shiver ran down my spine. Clarice didn’t want me to share details – didn’t want to be a topic of human conversation. And she really didn’t want me to have any help when it came time to...do whatever I decided to do about Clarice. But share I did; I told Leticia everything.
“So at first, did you invite Clarice to stay with you?”
“No. I saw her, she realized I could sense her, we spoke, and she decided to vacate the house and attach herself to me. I believe she wants to see more of the world, after being trapped in that one place for so long.”
“Do you fear her, Lizzy?”
The din rose in my ears again and I felt faint. Leticia shouldn’t have asked that question; I didn’t want to share my answer with Clarice. I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes, willing Clarice to the background. I gained some relief, but I could still feel Clarice there, angry and hostile.
“I didn’t at first,” I said. “At first she just seemed an extra passenger. A bit annoying when I didn’t want a witness at certain moments. But now…”
“She’s trying to restrict your behavior. I can feel it. It scares me. I would not have you out there with a passenger, as you call her.”
The idea of Lady Leticia being scared of Clarice jolted my heart into racing. I’d never known my friend to fear spirits. She believed spirits were to be dealt with, helped to pass beyond this world, and fear didn’t usually help with that process.
“I don’t know what to do,” I admitted quietly.
“Bring me the wooden box with the triangle carvings, from inside that trunk.” Leticia pointed and I went to the trunk to retrieve it, my pulse refusing to settle down.
The box was the size of a hymnal and just as heavy. Leticia traced the triangle carving with a finger, her eyes on me, before she opened the box. She withdrew a pendant – a round wooden disc – hung on a thin cord. “I know it isn’t much to look at. Petrified wood from an ancient grove. I want you to practice blocking the influence of this spirit, both wearing the disc, and without it. As you do, picture the roots of the trees, intertwined and vibrant. Picture leaves falling, leaving the tree, returning to earth. In this way, you may be able to gain some control over when Clarice can make her presence known, and when she cannot.”
It wasn’t much. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting.
“There are other ways...but I sense you are not yet after a permanent solution. So, let us increase your skill while you decide what action is appropriate in the long term.”
“If needed—”
Clarice popped into view and I had never seen my great-grandmother’s spirit view me so coldly. She knew what I was about to say, and even if I never needed Leticia’s answer, I would pay for asking the question.
I squeezed my eyes tight shut to avoid the spirit’s glare. There was nothing for it. I had to know. I started again. “If needed, can you help me be rid of her?”
The clamor in my mind stilled, and when I opened my eyes, Clarice was no longer there. Maybe she understood that her arrogance and anger were pushing me toward an ultimate solution, not away from one.
“Of course,” Leticia answered calmly. “But you must be sure. For what it is worth, maybe it would be best to reach an agreement with the spirit. I gather part of your resistance is that she is family, and that is not to be ignored, Lizzy. At any rate, I do not want you living in fear – and I would venture that this Clarice likely does not want you to fear her, either.”
I wasn’t sure about that. I had begun with the certainty that Clarice was just a trapped spirit, the woman who had raised my grandfather and lived in my house. I’d never thought to fear her...it was the months of living with her that had changed my mind. It wasn’t Clarice’s fault. She hadn’t looked for a seer in the family; she had been as surprised at her ability to ride along on my life as I was.
“Do take care, won’t you?” Leticia said, holding her shaking hand out for my touch.
I reached for her hand, which was cold and frail. Here I was, concerned with myself as always, as Leticia continued to fade away. “You, too, my friend. You too.”
Leaving Leticia’s home, I wore the petrified disc. It might not look like much, but I would always think of my friend’s calm assistance when I wore it. Maybe everything would turn out fine after all.
Chapter 2
Northward! I traveled with the best people in the world, my favorite aunt and uncle, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner. Their four children remained at Longbourn with Jane, who practiced for maternity with the fervor of one destined for it. I hoped Jane would have her chance. She was excellent with children, in a way that I could never force myself to be. The eldest Bennet sister was the most suited to marriage and family, having absorbed lesson after lesson from our less-than-able parents over the years.
At this rate, it was becoming less likely Jane would wed.
Maybe it was becoming less likely any Bennet sister would wed. Certainly it wasn’t too late for the youngest, but so many folk balked at the younger sisters taking their chance at balls and such while the eldest sisters were still unwed. It seemed none of us had an easy path to making a match.
“We have begun late enough, husband!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed as the carriage clattered north. “There’s no chance for the Lakes this year. Next year we must leave a fortnight earlier and enjoy those sights.”
“I know you’re eager to go so far, wife. But my business could not be delayed. Unfortunately, I can’t stay as long as I would like, either. I must return to London within the month.”
“Well then, the limit of our venture will be Derbyshire.” Mrs. Gardiner tended to speak to her husband in a teasing tone that always left me wondering. I could only hope I found a husband so well made for me as Mr. Gardiner was for my aunt. “You know I have enough interest in that place to stay a year. In our three weeks there, I hope to make the both of you fall in love with the country as well.”
Mrs. Gardiner had spent a chief portion of her youth in Derbyshire, which was Darcy’s country, too. The thought made my belly lurch uncomfortably. Yet avoidance of one man would not keep me from an entire country. Far be it for Darcy to have such power over me. So I held my tongue and did not quibble with our destination.
We reached Derbyshire on a cloudy, unsummerlike day. I had never seen such a beautiful country – all shades of green, softly rolling hills and lush thickets of woods. I was so drawn by the view and so taken with it that the journey passed quickly.
The town of Lambton was our destination. Mrs. Gardiner still had ac
quaintances that called it home, and she was bent on catching up.
It was in the midst of describing these acquaintances and their former jolly young lives that Mrs. Gardiner mentioned the proximity of Pemberley, which was apparently within five miles of Lambton.
My heart sank like a ship loaded with brick.
“We must visit and walk the grounds!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed. “You’ve never seen the like, I swear it.”
Oh, no. Visit Pemberley?
But I didn’t voice my concerns. To do so would mean spilling the secrets I’d obtained on my visit to Rosings, like the second proposal I had received and refused. Mother still didn’t know of it, and though I was friendly and more of an age with my aunt than Mother was, I couldn’t count on my aunt’s fidelity in this matter, which affected the rest of the Bennets as well.
I did not want to talk about Darcy’s proposal. Time hadn’t reduced my pain over the entire fiasco. When I thought of it, all humor left me and I sank into a despair that I didn’t understand or embrace. No. I wouldn’t speak of it. It was unlikely that Darcy was at home at Pemberley, in any case.
I held my tongue and tried to think of something, anything, else. I returned to the view, grateful for the window that afforded the sights and a welcome breath of fresh air. And so the journey north was passed.
* * *
Clarice had made herself scarce since I visited Lady Leticia. I was glad for the respite. I’d kept up my practice with the talisman Lady Leticia provided, focusing my thoughts on the ancient grove. In Lambton, Clarice reappeared.
I had been shown to my room, where I quizzed the chambermaid while she turned down the bed. Was Pemberley as lovely a sight as all the country said? Was this a good season to visit? Which family owned the estate? Was the family at Pemberley for the summer?
The chambermaid had unwittingly assured me there was no chance I would meet Darcy there. The family was, thankfully, not in residence.