by Jemma Thorne
“Their engagement is of a peculiar sort. It was decided between his mother and I, soon after Anne was born. It was Lady Anne’s most heartfelt desire that Darcy should wed my daughter.”
“Then why have they not wed?”
Lady Catherine turned to me, affronted. “That, dear girl, is none of your concern. If left to their devices, they will wed.”
Had she lost her mind?
“Now tell me that you do not stand in the way of their happiness. Are you engaged to Mr. Darcy, or aren’t you?”
I stiffened my spine, losing patience with this odd exchange. And still there was the question: who had said I was engaged? “I am not.”
Lady Catherine nodded and let out a great sigh. “Good. It is as I suspected. Merely a rumor. And do you promise that if he were to ask, you would not accept him?”
What? I stared at her, mouth agape, no idea how to answer this preposterous demand.
“Why…why would I make such a promise?” I spun away from her and walked on, a part of me reveling in the way she followed me so quickly she almost tripped. Lady Catherine was not used to having her demands ignored. But she had no power over me at all. The nerve of her, showing up to Longbourn, sniffing at our offer of reception, railing at me and demanding I satisfy her overbearing curiosity. Despite my agreement with myself not to lose my temper, I was nearly there.
“If you were to wed my nephew, none in his society would ever accept you. I would tell them to avoid you and the pair of you would be social outcasts. Without acceptance of your marriage by his social class, he would be brought to your level. Can you really wish that for him? Such awkwardness, such isolation? Selfish girl! You do not know what you’re playing at!”
I was beginning to believe the old bat had truly come unhinged. She gave me such power to ruin Darcy? The idea was laughable. Could she think that I knew so little about the workings of society that such threats would affect me? No ‘isolation’ could take Pemberley out of Darcy’s hands. He had greater holdings than his elderly aunt, and that was more likely the source of her complicated emotions. She wanted Anne to be mistress of Pemberley.
Despite myself, I laughed. Her eyes narrowed and I knew it for a mistake. Clarice cackled behind her, laughing for me as I gathered myself.
“Promise me! Say you would never marry him!” Lady Catherine held her head so that she was looking imperiously down her nose at me.
“I will not make any such promise, and you have no right to ask it of me,” I said, my voice deliberately neutral.
“Oh! So you do have plans for him.”
“I do not make plans for others, Lady de Bourgh. Darcy makes his own plans, and I honestly know nothing of them.”
With that, I spun from her and began to walk back toward Longbourn, our interview at an end.
“I send no thanks to your mother! You have displeased me greatly and it is my fervent wish that we should never speak again, you ungrateful, selfish girl.”
I did not respond and did not look back until I reached the house. At that point I saw her carriage driving away and I had never been more grateful to see a visitor take their leave.
“Oh, is she leaving?” Mother said, meeting me at the door. “I had planned to offer dinner – it was so good of her to visit you. But she must have been in a hurry? I am sure she has another engagement and Longbourn was just a convenient stop to stretch her legs. Good of her to come! It is such an honor!”
I let Mother rattle on. She could accept whatever honor she saw in it – I had no plans to share the real reason behind Lady Catherine’s sudden visit.
* * *
Far too many times in coming days I had to chide myself for dwelling on Lady Catherine and her demands. She had so irked me that I thought of it incessantly, chafing at the answers she’d demanded and her insistence on interfering. She had thought her best hope of abolishing any romance between us was to scare me off. But now that she’d made her attempt at that, she must be intent on confronting Darcy. What would he say when she laid out her argument against a union with me? Would he be as surprised as I was at this rumor? God forbid...would he know instantly that I had nothing to do with its spread, or would I have to defend my ignorance of the wagging tongues when next we met?
And what of the focus of her argument? If Darcy was not committed to the idea – and I had no reason in the world to expect his commitment – would her firm advice sway him? Would he give up any residual feelings for me at last?
If so, he would not return at all. I wouldn’t see him again. He would send a letter to Bingley begging off and that would be that. Jane would see him when he visited her husband. Maybe down the years I would see him here and there.
Would Darcy marry Anne? I simply couldn’t picture it happening, whether I was in his life or not.
All of these circling thoughts were enough to leave me with a bellyache. That state wasn’t helped by another dilemma I faced.
Should I inform Clarice that her end was near?
I worried she would attempt to change my mind – I didn’t know what tools she had to accomplish such a feat, but I doubted she would let me carry on easily.
Yet if I didn’t tell her...I knew I would regret it. I should give her the chance to come to terms with the push I was about to give her.
I had not sought out Lady Leticia and made my final plans. It was no urgent thing, and now that I had decided, a strange melancholy assaulted me every time my thoughts touched on it.
There was time. It would be done. Soon.
The entire household had accepted Mother’s reasoning for Lady Catherine’s visit, and I was spared the teasing that would have befallen me had they understood why she had really come to Longbourn. I was glad they saw so little in it.
A few days after her visit, Father called me into his study, brandishing a letter. “Prepare to be most heartily amused, my dear girl. I’ve had a letter.”
Clarice appeared behind his right shoulder. “I just can’t resist. Your household has become so exciting. I never would have thought.”
I kept my eyes firmly on my father and tried for a smile. We sat near the fire, but it was nothing to the chill that had filled me when I saw the letter in his hand. Was it from Lady Catherine? Had she appealed to my father now?
“Dearest Lizzy, it seems I have room to congratulate not one of my daughters, but two. I had no idea that such a revelation was imminent or I would have prepared more lofty comments for the loss of my favorite daughter.”
I had a sudden suspicion that the letter he held was not from the aunt, but from the nephew. I couldn’t picture Darcy writing my father first, but the hope that bloomed in me told all. I wished for the letter to be in Darcy’s neat script.
“I hold a letter from Mr. Collins—”
“Mr. Collins?” I injected. “What can he have to say?”
Father gave me a long look. “You do not seem ready to laugh today. Should we set it aside and return to the topic tomorrow? You appear altogether unsettled.” He gave me a mischievous grin. “Do not worry, Lizzy. I promise the contents of this letter will raise your spirits. Shall I continue?”
He had read my discomfort, but he hadn’t understood the reason for it.
“Marvelous,” said Clarice, watching her great-grandson. “I do wonder what the idiot has to say.”
I chuckled, unable to help it and Father gave me a quick glance before smiling down at the letter again.
“Yes,” I said. “Please, read on.”
“He begins by congratulating me on the upcoming marriage of my eldest daughter...I will skip over that to aid your temper.”
He knew me too well – I was itching to know what Mr. Collins had included in the letter that concerned me.
“And then he says, ‘let me now share a hint about another piece of news, on the same authority: it seems you have two daughters about to wed, and your daughter Elizabeth will give up the name Bennet soon after her sister.’ Can you understand his meaning here, Lizzy? I do love th
e man’s absurd use of the English tongue. I will never again throw away one of his letters; they bring me a peculiar sort of joy.”
I couldn’t join in his jest. I was straining for more.
“The man will never tell you. His own amusement concerns him too much,” Clarice opined.
I straightened my shoulders. “And…”
“You have no names for me? None jump to your tongue? Who would be your husband in this scheme of Mr. Collins, eh?”
I shrugged, growing exasperated. “Do you have something to tell me, or don’t you?”
Clarice leaned forward, intent on the developing story. I felt a pang of sorrow at the sight.
“Can you guess, Lizzy, what is meant by Mr. Collins here? ‘The gentleman is blessed with everything a father might hope – wealth, property and the high esteem of society.’” Father grinned at me and asked, “What gentleman can he possibly mean?” He wagged his eyebrows at me. He was entertained enough for the both of us.
“You are being ridiculous! Tell me what he said so that I can join in your joke,” I urged impatiently.
“Mr. Darcy. For some insane reason, Mr. Collins believes you are about to marry Mr. Darcy, a man who has shown you nothing but indifference, and who you proclaim to dislike intensely.” Father’s guffaw rang loud in the room. I attempted a weak laugh and he was caught up enough that he did not realize my discomfort.
“Oh, I will not bore you with more of Mr. Collins’ letter. He purports to be glad at Lydia’s quick marriage – for the sake of his own reputation, no doubt – and to have personal knowledge of Lady Catherine’s rejection of Darcy’s suit for you...oh! Maybe that is why Lady Catherine graced us the other day.”
It was said in such jest that there was no reason for me to respond with anything but a noncommittal laugh. It did not change his true perception of that visit.
I left soon after, unable to match his glee over the ridiculous nature of Mr. Collins’ most recent missive. Father had noticed I was off my humor, but hadn’t guessed at the reason.
I was stuck on Father’s description of Darcy’s indifference.
Did he see too little of what there was between us? Or did I fancy too much?
Chapter 7
I went to bed while the others in my family, and Mr. Bingley, were still at the card table. At least, I went upstairs and sat on my bed, fully dressed, feeling restless and itching to go out. I must go to Lady Leticia. The conviction had occurred to me during dinner and it had not faded as the remaining hours of the day passed. I must go and see her tonight.
“Why are you sulking here in the dark?” Clarice asked from the corner of the room. There she stood again, looking firm as the living, more solid than any ghost had a right to be. Of course, she only appeared thus to me.
“You may speak – we are the only ones here,” she urged. “Your father upset you earlier with his talk of Darcy’s indifference. But that is as I’ve said all along.”
I shut my eyes. She didn’t understand the true reason for my grim mood…and I knew I must tell her.
“Clarice…our situation must change. I cannot carry you around for the rest of my life. And you can no longer avoid crossing over. There is nothing left for you here.”
She watched me silently, then turned toward the window and looked outside. She was silent for a long while as I fretted over what she’d say. “I have known you thought of this. In truth, a couple of weeks ago I believed I was ready.”
“And now?” I asked softly, my throat tightening.
“Well, as soon as you start to let go…why, it all becomes so interesting. One thing leading to another, the year fading out on a path no one could have foreseen at its start. I believe I started to live again, a bit, just as soon as I decided I was through.”
I shook my head. “It is only the calm before the inevitable. This life is mine. Yours has come and gone,” I said firmly.
“I know it,” she agreed, surprising me. “It is time. Only…I don’t know how to go.”
“That’s why we shall consult with Lady Leticia tonight. We will leave when Jane is asleep.”
When I returned, I would be alone.
* * *
The wind was cold and fierce tonight. I clung to the door to keep it from banging against the wall as I attempted to close it as quietly as I could. Everyone was in bed, but I couldn’t afford one of the servants finding me leaving at this time of night.
This was the last time I would risk any such foolish endeavors and even now I was only doing it so that I could help Clarice pass on from this world in the most respectful manner possible. For that I needed Lady Leticia’s advice and interference from no one else.
Clarice had been quiet since our conversation earlier. I hoped she was making peace with the transition to come. I had not told her that it would happen tonight. But I knew that she would never see Longbourn again, a fact that would bring her much solace when she heard it. She had been there far too long. Had nearly lost herself in the cold monotony of a single setting before I came along.
A bank of clouds drifted across a nearly full moon as I walked, but the rain held off. When I reached Lady Leticia’s house I knocked at the door. As soon as I touched it a wave of foreboding came over me. The housekeeper opened the door and lost her composure the instant she saw me. “Miss Bennet! You have arrived only just too late. The lady passed away about half an hour ago.”
I blinked, struggling to make sense of her words. Lady Leticia…passed on? “Oh… I am so sorry…” I put a hand over my racing heart. Oh, it just couldn’t be! I would never see her again? Oh, my treasured friend... I could not believe it…yet I could feel that it was true. “If you will let me, I will pay my last respects. She was such a good friend.”
The housekeeper pursed her lips but she nodded. “She’s in here. She’s…still resting by the fire.”
A shiver ran over my skin as I entered the house.
Her spirit remained. I could feel it.
Clarice stood next to me, silent. We followed the housekeeper into the sitting room.
As the housekeeper had said, there was Lady Leticia’s body by the fire. And standing on the other side of the hearth was her apparition. She smiled happily at me. “I knew you would come, dear girl. I knew we would see each other one last time. But come, I know you have need of my advice, and my time is running out.”
I looked at her body. Her time had clearly run out. “Did you stay just to help me? It is too risky – you must move on before you forget the way.”
Clarice’s more solid form stood just a step behind me, observing.
“You have come to take care of her.” Lady Leticia nodded at Clarice.
“You can see her now?”
“Yes, with these new eyes…” She chuckled, her ghostly expression merry, free of the pain that had haunted her these last years. “Lizzy, I can see so much with these new eyes. Do not dread the change; there is more to know after death. Never forget it.”
“I fear that yours is the last ghost that I will ever welcome seeing,” I confessed. “It is not that I detest or fear spirits, only that I find I want a different sort of life.”
Lady Leticia nodded. “I thought it would be so. Yet I knew you were too stubborn to listen to any advice of mine. There is a spell. In my trunk… I left it there for you.”
Tears gathered in my eyes as the finality of the events occurring right this moment hit me like a horse kick to the gut. I wiped my eyes and went to her trunk, my vision still blurry with tears as I opened it. There, nestled on top of a soft cloth was a paper package labeled ‘Lizzy.’
Lady Leticia held up her spectral hand. “In a moment, dear. You may open it when we have gone.”
I gasped as Lady Leticia stepped toward Clarice and reached out a hand to her. “Follow me. We step into the light,” one ghost said to the other.
A curious thing happened; Clarice’s form shifted in front of my eyes – she appeared again as other spirits appeared to me, translucent and mist
y. I straightened my shoulders and wondered: was she attached to me no longer?
I had no time for questions. Leticia stretched her hand toward Clarice and without another word to me or a single glance to spare, Clarice answered by taking her hand.
Lady Leticia looked back to me a final time and smiled. I knew the world beyond the light she spoke of held no dread for her. I hoped it would be the same for Clarice. Lady Leticia turned from me, her hand clutching my great-great-grandmother’s. Together the two of them took one step and then another, and faded completely from my view.
Many seconds later, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The fire felt warm now. The room no longer held the chill of spirits.
With shaking hands, I unwrapped the package from Leticia. It held a red candle; a small, sharp blade; a brightly polished moonstone; and the instructions for one final spell.
I lit the red candle in my dear friend’s fire and began, my heartbeat rapid and my voice hushed. I would carry the secrets no longer. It was time to move on, to be only myself without the shackles of this gift. And so I put the entire force of my will into my softly spoken words.
Outside, nearer to Longbourn than the cottage I’d left, I buried the moonstone under the view of the bright orb it represented. I sealed my power there, and then I turned my back on it.
No matter what else happened, I knew I would never return to it again.
* * *
I slept better than I had slept in many months. When I woke, I cried. Jane had risen before me and so she was not there to witness it, thankfully. I cried for the loss of a dear friend, and for myriad other changes, so closely clustered together and so strange in their inter-playing power, that I could not divorce the effects of one from the other. Lydia’s marriage, when we thought she’d ruined us; Darcy’s gift of aid to the Bennets in resolving that matter; Jane’s engagement to Mr. Bingley; the loss of my dearest sister to a husband and married life which now hovered between us at every exchange; the guilty decision to force an ancestor’s spirit onward; combined with the loss of one of the dearest friends I had known in my life… For a time it was too much for my waking mind to bear.