My Darcy Mutates…

by Enid Wilson

  “What happened?” she whispered, and the husky timbre of her voice helped to distract him from his ungentlemanly thoughts.

  Darcy nervously brushed at his hair with an unsteady hand and turned to look up at the sky. “It is too hot inside.”

  “You do not want to greet your friends?”

  “Miss Binlgey is not my favourite person.” After the words came out, he clamped his mouth shut. It is Rake! He is a bad influence.

  “She intends to snare you?”

  “How did you know?”

  “You immediately escaped out here when I heard her ask where you were.”

  “Did she indeed?”

  She nodded. “Rather loudly.”

  “It is unfortunate that Bingley has such a sister.” What has happened to my discretion? I am confiding unkind opinions about Miss Bingley to a total stranger!

  “I have three rather silly younger sisters, myself. We cannot choose our relations. What about you?”

  Darcy’s countenance turned grave. “I have a younger sister, twelve years my junior. Georgiana used to be cheery and lively, but a…misadventure, this past summer, has changed her.” Why am I confiding in her, rather than Bingley? Perhaps the appearance of Rake Darcy has shaken me up.

  “I am sorry to hear of it. Did you not want her to be here with you?” she asked softly.

  Her compassionate expression urged him on. “I blame myself for her misadventure. My aunt and uncle thought my self-berating mood was disruptive to Georgiana’s recovery. So they took her in, for the time being, and urged me to travel here to visit Mr. Bingley.”

  “And you miss her.”

  He nodded. “Our mother died when Georgiana was but two. I love my sister dearly.”

  “And your father?”

  “He died five years ago.”

  “You miss your father’s guidance and your mother’s gentleness.”

  He nodded again. How can she understand so much about me?

  “You have soulful eyes. I can see that your parents were very dear to you and still mean a great deal to you, even now.”

  Looking straight into her tender gaze, Darcy suddenly felt a sense of belonging. It was like coming home, where he could share life’s ups and downs with someone who truly understood him, even without words.

  His defenses fell away, and he began to pour out the sense of disappointment, anger and betrayal that he felt towards his childhood friend, George Wickham, although he was still cautious enough not to disclose Georgiana’s failed elopement.

  “I sometimes think that all of humanity is born evil.” Elizabeth touched his hand to comfort him. “Only good breeding and education prevent them from staying evil. It is tragic that Mr. Wickham did not take advantage of the excellent opportunity with which your family provided him.”

  She is saying exactly the same thing as Rake! How can that be?

  She turned her face to the sky and said, in a more cheerful tone, “But then I remember our Lord. He provides us with guidance and good examples. I am happy to say that I know more good people than bad…but you must take into account that I only dine with four-and-twenty families regularly.”

  Darcy smiled at her jest. Do I know more virtuous souls than vile ones? Indeed I do. Will I be able to forgive Wickham? Perhaps…one day.

  In the meantime, here stood a beautiful lady with sense and sensitivity, watching him with glittering eyes. She was altogether worthy of his attention. Gently, he brushed a wayward curl behind her ear and whispered, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the honour of dancing with me again?”

  “Another dance? Are you sure that you are up to such an undertaking?” She arched her brows but did not take his hand.

  He nodded. “I believe so. I know, now, that you have three silly sisters.”

  “And a match-making mother,” she added, and smiled.

  “Well, I meet many of those in London society.” He returned her smile.

  “My aunt and uncle live in Cheapside,” she cautioned, but she put her hand in his.

  “The late great-grandfather of Mr. Bingley lived not far from there, as well.” He squeezed her soft hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. In accord, they walked back into the hall, chatting eagerly.

  That night, although the good people of Hertfordshire did not know enough to recognize the rarity, they were treated to the genuine smile and laugh of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

  Miss Bingley nearly fainted upon seeing him escort Elizabeth Bennet to the floor for the third set of dances.

  As for Rake Darcy, luckily for all concerned, he did not make a further appearance that night.

  When The Dead Interfere

  What if Netherfield Park was haunted?

  "My dear Mr. Bennet," said his lady to him one day, "have you heard that Netherfield Park is let at last?"

  “But, Mama,” exclaimed Lydia, their youngest daughter, “that house is haunted! Who can have been so droll as to let it?”

  Mrs. Bennet snorted. “Nonsense. Your uncle Philips assures Mr. Bingley, who is a young man of large fortune from the north, that the house is in superb order...”

  ***

  Soon, the Bingleys moved in and became acquainted with the Bennets, who were but three miles away. Jane Bennet, the eldest daughter, visited the Bingley sisters one day, but became sick after being caught in the rain. Our story continues as in the original tale until the last night of Jane and Elizabeth’s stay at Netherfield. It was not until the last day of October that the boundary between the living and the deceased dissolved.

  ***

  “I am quite bored with this visit!” The elegant elderly lady stretched her arms above her head and danced a little step away from her companion.

  “Emma, that is a most unladylike gesture! We need to uphold our manner, even in the land of darkness,” the handsome old man chided.

  Pouting, Emma folded her arms across her bosom. “Oh, Mr. Knightley, you are such a bore! I do not understand why I agreed to marry you at all, when we were alive. And I especially do not understand why we are still together now that we are dead.”

  Knightley came to her and wrapped his arms around her slim waist. With a serious countenance, he said, “Just think what sort of havoc my little Emma would create in the world, if not for my constant vigilance. I cannot leave you, my dear, day or night.” He then lowered his head to give her a quick kiss on the lips.

  Emma unfolded her arms and pushed him away. “George, we only have a few hours to play with the living. Let us not waste time. You can kiss me any other day of the year. We will be going back to Hartfield soon.” She then ran upstairs, as quickly as her elderly legs could manage, happily.

  Knightley chased after her. “Now, Emma, what do you have in mind? I do not want you to scare any of the young people to death. I heard that it has been many years since Netherfield had a family living here.”

  She went through the door of the first bedchamber. When he caught up with her in the room, they could see a plain-looking man lying on the bed, snoring loudly.

  Emma held her nose with her fingers and frowned. “He stinks! I wager he drank more than three glasses of brandy, and whatever else was on offer tonight.”

  “Let us leave him alone then. You do not want to play with a drunkard.”

  “What do you say we make him want never to drink again? You can turn into a big barrel of foul-tasting wine and press onto him heavily, giving him nightmares. I wager he would not go near a drink anymore, after such an experience,” she said with a mischievous grin.

  “Emma! And here I thought you only liked to play at matchmaking!” He tried to pull her away from the bed.

  “I know, but he is already married to this Lousia, so I cannot make a match for him.”

  “How do you know about that?” he asked.

  “I like to listen in on the lives of the living, from time to time. Mr. Hurst likes to drink and sleep. His wife is called Lousia. They seldom spend their nights together. In fact, they have not done so
once since they moved to Netherfield. But you are right, my dear. Matchmaking is my favourite. I know what I shall do.”

  With a quick turn, she disappeared, leaving nothing but a puff of white.

  Luckily, he could find her anywhere. With a fast swirl of the air and another puff of white, he joined her in another bedroom, where she was perched on a chair beside a bed where a handsome young man lay sleeping.

  “George, young Darcy here loves the lively lady staying in the guest chamber, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Unfortunately, he has the laughable notion that, since she has no connections or money, and has a mother and sisters who are improper, he should not show her any sign of admiration. Shall I make him confess to her?”

  “How can you do that? We do not possess the magical power to make the living speak as we want!” Knightley rolled his eyes and shook his head. After so many years of marriage, he still did not understand how his wife could unerringly find all the gossip of the world.

  “All things are possible. I can put him and Miss Elizabeth in the same room, and I can turn quite scary every time he does not reveal his true feelings to her. Let me wake him and take him to his heart’s desire.”

  Knightley put his hand on her arm. “Wait, Emma. You might well scare them both to death.”

  “Well then, if you do not like that plan, I suppose I could strike him on the head every time he does the wrong thing.”

  “You will knock him witless then. Do you want to do that to a sensible young man?”

  “What would you have me do, then? It is only on this night that I can play at matchmaking for the living,” Emma said, pouting again. But then her face brightened. “I know! I shall simply put him in her bed. I know how much he loves to gaze upon the form of the fair maiden. He will not be able to resist her, when he lies so close beside her. He will simply have to marry her, after tonight!” She clapped her hands, congratulating herself on the brilliant idea.

  “How do you know that the young man lusts after this Elizabeth? Did you see more than you should?” It was his turn to fold his arms across his chest, as he was seriously displeased at the idea of his wife looking at another man.

  “You know I cannot ‘peek’ into the goings-on of the living when we were in our world. But I listened. He talked in his sleep from time to time; and then I even heard him providing his own relief, once or twice, and crying out Elizabeth’s name in his moment of ecstasy.”

  “Emma, you are shameless!”

  “I am an old, married woman with several children. I know all about men and their needs.”

  “Still! To eavesdrop on a single young man of the living world! It is not the right way to interfere. Do you even know whether the young lady likes him or not? If she does not, you will only create a forced marriage, one for which Miss Bennet certainly will not thank you. Let us leave the living to their lives. We should take a stroll in the moonlight. We have not done that for a long time.” Knightley then pulled her hand to the crook of his arm and took her away from Darcy’s room.

  Unknown to the good couple, Frank Churchill had been listening to their conversation. Much like Emma, he also liked to play with the living, but he liked perverse jokes better, and so he decided to do precisely what Knightley had opposed: he lifted Darcy’s sleeping body and transported him to Miss Elizabeth’s room.

  How did he know where Miss Elizabeth slept? He eavesdropped on the living, of course, just as Emma liked to do. Life in the dark was boring. He had thought for a moment about whether to deliver this Darcy to Miss Bingley or Mrs. Hurst, but he did not think it would work. The young man would not be aroused by them. He had also considered taking Mr. Darcy to the other Miss Jane Bennet, but reasoned that she might still be too weak to entertain him.

  By the time Churchill put Mr. Darcy down to lie besides Miss Elizabeth, he was out of breath. He hated this weakly ghost form of himself. He was no longer a handsome man, and his hair was almost gone. His body was so big that he could hardly see his shoes, and his face was covered with wrinkles. Worst of all, he was no longer aroused by fair maidens, and could no longer accomplish the manly act. Otherwise, he would have loved to trifle with many of the fair maidens who had lived in Netherfield in years past.

  Churchill took a look at Miss Elizabeth. She is not as pretty as my Jane was when she was in her bloom. But this gentlewoman has quick wit and a temper. She should be a passionate thing in bed. And I heard her protesting to her sister that she did not like this young man at all. It will be fun to see her response when she awakens to find him in her bed. Ah, but I had best tie her up, or she will scratch his eyes out before he can trifle with her. I shall stick the locks of the main and servant doors, and then she will be unable to escape him! He laughed at his own scheme.

  Churchill duly tied the wrists and ankles of the lady to the bedposts, then knocked both Darcy and Elizabeth on the head slightly, and sat back on a chair, intending to watch…

  “Frank, where are you?”

  The scream of his wife gave him shivers. The pretty, compliant Jane Fairfax he had married so many years ago had turned into a shrew not long after she gave birth to their first daughter. She never recovered her light and pleasing form; worse yet, she started to indulge in drinking. She grew as ugly as a pig, and soon started hitting him when she was drunk. He never thought he would be rendered witless by a mere woman.

  “Where are you, old man? I shall skin you alive when I find you!” Her voice was nearer, and he swore at his damn luck. He had hoped to enjoy watching a bit of passionate mating, but now, instead, he had to run. Why can she not leave me alone on this one day of merriment? He stood up immediately and, with a twist of his body and a puff of white, left Elizabeth’s room in great haste.

  ***

  Mr. Darcy felt a slight pain in the back of his head and woke up. Bright moonlight shone onto the bed. This is not my bedchamber in Netherfield, he realized with a shock. The room was similar, but the hangings were in pink, rather than dark brown, And the curtains and furniture were more suited to the tastes of a –

  He felt the warmth of a body beside him, and heard a soft moan. He turned around on the bed and, with the help of the moon’s light, saw that it was Miss Elizabeth Bennet lying there. Her eyes were half closed, and she was moving slightly, as if she were about to wake up.

  He sucked in a quick breath. What is she doing here? Does she intend to use her arts and allurements to make me forget what I owe to myself and to all my family? How dare she? I thought she was different from the fawning women of the ton. Indeed, I had imagined her to be superior to the likes of Miss Bingley!

  A sudden anger surged in his chest. He stripped the bed sheet off her body, intending to send her away immediately…

  Darcy’s eyes widened when he saw that she was bound to the bed. Her hands were tied to the bedpost, high above her head, and her legs were pulled apart and bound, as well.

  Did I do that? Did I come here to her room and tie her up? Is this a dream?

  Mr. Darcy focused on Elizabeth’s tempting form. He had wanted to admire her figure for many days. She looked very real. Her feet were so small, he could palm them easily. As the hem of her night dress was hiked up, he could see the skin of her legs. They looked as smooth as those of a newborn. Under the thin layer of cloth, he continued his survey. He swallowed hard upon seeing her supple thighs, wide hips and narrow waist. Then his gaze reached her bosom. The creamy globes were hardly contained by the thin green nightgown. They were rising and falling rapidly, dangerously close to pushing the nipples out from their confinement with each upward movement.

  Darcy’s arousal came on with full force upon seeing such a lovely vision. He licked his lips. What a dream! I do not want to wake up! He decided to take advantage of it before the tempting vision of Miss Elizabeth disappeared. Lowering his mouth, he pressed a wet kiss to her cleavage. She smells wonderful! A mixture of rose, lavender and maiden sweat! With her hands bound above her, he could not pull the straps of her night dress down her shoulders, and
so he set himself to unfastening the tiny buttons that ran down the front of her gown instead. When he had freed a dozen of them, he folded back the halves of the fabric bodice and feasted his eyes on the result. Indeed, he felt like a hungry infant who could not get enough of her. His tongue traced the gorgeous fullness of her breasts with a connoisseur’s reverence. What a vision! Finally, I can devour her as I like.

  He was about to lower his head to suckle her rosy nipples when the shaking, tentative voice of Elizabeth made him raise his head. “What… are you doing here?” He could see that she was wide awake now. She wore a touchingly vulnerable look, and she pulled at the cloths that bound her hands and legs. When she was not successful at freeing herself, she demanded more forcefully, “Mr. Darcy, what are you doing to me?”

  He trailed his fingers from her brow, down her cheek to her lips, and replied, “I like this dream. We can still duel verbally, but you can no longer misunderstand my meaning. I am mad for you, and I intend to ravish you now.”

  Her eyes widened with fright. “A dream? Are you not a gentleman? How can you ravish a maiden, even in a dream?”

  He laughed out loud, which made him look young and carefree. “I have often dreamed of making love to you before, teaching you the pleasures of man and woman. In my mind, you were always hesitant but responsive. I have had much pleasure from you. But I never before dreamed of ravishing you with your hands bound. I’ll wager that my gentlemanly nature has lessened under the pressure of your tempting allurements over these past few days.” He grazed his cheek on her breasts roughly, then slipped his hands under her nightdress and gently squeezed her inner thighs, pretending to be a rogue.

  She felt less frightened, reassured by his smile, half-convinced that it was indeed a dream. But his manly ministrations made her heart jump. Something not right. “You dreamt of making me yours? I do not believe it! You said I was not handsome enough to tempt you! You must be just a scoundrel who takes pleasure in trifling with gentlewomen.”