by Enid Wilson
“Yes, Fitzwilliam. Is she truly well now?” Georgiana added.
“Yes, she is well now, Georgiana, but I would take it kindly if you would check on Miss Bennet for me and send Mrs. Reynolds down to us.”
“Of course.”
After his sister had left, Mr. Darcy continued, “I did not know about it, either, until the early hours of this morning. I believe Miss Bingley to have performed some form of witchcraft on Miss Bennet. She has recovered now and Mrs. Gardiner is with her.”
“Witchcraft! What an evil woman! Do you really intend to allow Miss Bingley to leave, just like that?”
“I have asked Mrs. Reynolds to question all of their servants and to search her room, if required. Let us wait for her report.”
When the housekeeper entered, Darcy looked to her immediately. “Mrs. Reynolds, did Miss Bingley’s servants say anything?”
“Under the threat of being arrested for witchcraft, Miss Bingley’s maid was quite forthcoming. She said her mistress went to consult a witch in an obscure village on River Orwell. She did not know what Miss Bingley obtained there, but she helped me search the room. In the drawer of the table, we found this doll, with pins stuck in it, as well as some pieces of paper with strange writing. We could not make it out, as it was almost burned to ashes, but what is left appears to be instructions on how to perform the black magic.”
“Is that the only witchcraft she possessed?”
“The maid did not know, but that was the only thing we found among her possessions that looked like witchcraft. Still, the maid did tell me something about the witch. She said the woman was called Ipswich the Good Witch, famous for her good deeds and strict rules. She claimed that her curse would not work if the person did not deserve it, and that it normally had a beneficial effect on good people. And it was rumoured that evil people who asked for her spells would only get the worse end of the bargain, and would be unable to harm others ever again.”
“Is that so!” Mr. Darcy was relieved by that final piece of information. “Have you asked the maid for directions to find this witch? I would like to visit her, after my wedding. I want to make sure Miss Bennet will not suffer any permanent effects from this witchcraft.”
“Yes, the maid gave me some vague directions. She said that it was all she had heard about where the witch resided. The popular belief seems to be that only people who were meant to find her could succeed in doing so. But I have instructed the maid to inform Mr. Bingley if Miss Bingley should exhibit any strange behaviour.”
“Good. I will send an express to Bingley about all of this.”
“It seems we cannot do much more, for now,” Mr. Gardiner opined. “I think I will go and check on Elizabeth.”
Mr. Darcy put the doll in the safe box in the study, and then went out to see the Hursts and his aunt to their carriages. Miss Bingley, he observed, was not her usual haughty and collected self. She bumped into Lady Catherine in her rush to the carriage, and the contents of her reticule dropped out and onto the hem of the old lady’s dress.
Lady Catherine brushed them aside contemptuously. “No manners at all! Your friend should teach his sister to walk properly before allowing her out in society.”
Miss Bingley hurriedly collected the black candle and mirror from the ground, and dropped them back into her reticule, then favored the elderly lady with an angry glare and climbed up into the carriage.
Mr. Darcy breathed a heart-felt sigh of relief when the carriages containing his uninvited guests finally faded from view.
* * *
That night, dinner was a pleasant affair, all the more so because Elizabeth had sufficiently recovered her strength to join the others. With their newfound intimacy, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth could not help constantly gazing at and whispering to each other. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner smiled to see such lovestruck behaviour.
When everyone had retired for the night, Mr. Darcy slipped into Elizabeth’s room and joined her on the bed for a tight embrace.
“Are you feeling better, my love?”
She blushed and nodded. “I am fine, except for being a little bit sore.”
“Where? Perhaps I can massage your sore flesh.” His hands smoothed over her back.
“Fitzwilliam!”
He lowered his head and gave her a tender kiss. “I am only teasing, dearest. I know you are still too sore. And we will be leaving for Longbourn in a few days, so I do not want to completely wear you out. I simply want the pleasure of holding you, to assure myself that no lasting harm has come to you.”
“I still shudder to think of Miss Bingley’s witchcraft.”
“Remember what the maid said about the witch. We do not deserve an evil curse, and so it had a rather different effect on us. I spent the most amazing night with you, and I loved it that you were wild for me. I was hoping to teach you how to be wanton, after we marry. This just makes my task easier.”
“It is not wrong to be wanton?”
“I want you always to express your feelings freely with me, my dear. We are now of one flesh. I want you to make love to me as much as I want to love you in return.”
They shared another deep kiss before drifting off together into a deep sleep.
* * *
In the meantime, inside the Inn of Lambton, Miss Bingley took out the black candle and mirror and spread them on the desk. She had a second package in her reticule, one which, luckily, she had left with Louisa in the morning.
She was still furious with Mr. Darcy. How dare you send someone to go through my room! I will make your dear Miss Eliza suffer!
She no longer had any fallen hair from that impudent upstart because of the reticule incident, but she would conduct the witchcraft anyway. She pictured Miss Eliza in her mind and chanted, according to the instruction.
“Black magic flame, dance and call upon the Devil of Hell. With your fire, make her eyes criss-crossed. With your flame, distort her nose. Devil of Hell, pray let the world see the reality of her ugly form.”
After she finished the ritual, she reclined on the bed with a contented smile. If Miss Eliza had distorted eyes and nose, Mr. Darcy would soon tire of her, even if he did marry the chit.
When morning came, loud screams were heard in the Inn of Lambton. Miss Bingley woke up to find her nose twisted, like she had been punched and her eyes permanently crisscrossed. How could this have happened? It seemed without the hair of the intended victim, the witchcraft worked on the last one who touched the candle.
Chapter Eight
An ordinary carriage drove slowly down the winding road along the river. The curtains were firmly closed, concealing the identity of the vehicle’s occupants – and small wonder, for the carriage was occupied by two young gentlemen who were ardently engaged in kissing one another.
“Willie, your moustache itches!” complained the younger man wearing a hat.
“You are the one who insisted I wear a fake moustache, Elizabeth. Now you must bear with the consequences.”
“Shh! Remember to call me Eli, not Elizabeth, or you shall give me away! I am much better than you in this deception. At least I remembered to call you Willie, instead of Fitzwilliam.”
“I protest! Willie is a most indecent name. Call me Will or William.”
Small wonder. Indeed, for the two ‘gentlemen’ in question were Mr. Darcy and his new wife, the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet, in disguise.
The day that Jane and Elizabeth married Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy in a double wedding was the proudest day of their mother’s life. Although the ceremony had been arranged within the short notice of two weeks, everything turned out perfectly for Mrs. Bennet. No expense was spared by the bridegrooms, and the brides wore the most elegant silk dresses, made by an exclusive modiste in London.
Longbourn Church and the Meryton Assembly, which were used for the ceremony and the wedding breakfast, respectively, were decorated lavishly for the auspicious occasion. The breakfast included an array of expensive and exotic foods and wine that took Mrs. Benne
t's fancy. She was the envy of the entire town, and actually of London and Derbyshire, as well, which was a far cry from the public pity she had received some half a year earlier when her youngest daughter was rumoured to have eloped with a red coat and then killed during a lover's brawl. Most friends and families of the couples were present, except for Miss Bingley and Lady Catherine.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy spent their wedding night and two lazy weeks in seclusion at their London townhouse. Mr. Darcy gave most of the servants two weeks’ leave, and the couple did not receive any guest for the duration. On the wedding night, he volunteered to serve as Elizabeth’s lady’s maid, and prepared her for the night. They did not get much sleep until late morning of the next day because the eager bridegroom wanted to prove that he could make his wife feel wanton, even without the aid of witchcraft.
He succeeded, beyond any dispute or complaint from his wife.
The late-morning awakening routine became a pattern for the first two weeks, and their blissful unions took place in nearly every room in the townhouse.
Mr. Darcy had then arranged the current trip to find Ipswich the Good Witch. He would not rest easy until he knew for certain that the witchcraft would not cause his dear wife any permanent harm. He had originally intended to part with his wife for a few days, in order to settle the matter, but Elizabeth would have none of that. She did not want him to be in danger either, and she did not want to separate from him just yet, so soon after the wedding. In the end, she persuaded him to allow her to accompany him in disguise, just as they had when they embarked upon the ill-fated search for Mr. Wickham and Miss Lydia.
Mr. Darcy enjoyed the privilege of personally binding her bosom again, taking the time to fondle and kiss her dazzling breasts. On this occasion, he also confided to her many of his wayward and more serious thoughts from their previous sojourn together in the fisherman hut. Elizabeth lightened the mood by challenging him to properly scratch his bulge and display his manly asset by sitting with his legs apart. She also teased him about his talkative drunken ramblings and his not-so-tolerable singing. Their playful banter and touches soon led to a long and tender coupling that caused their departure from London to be delayed for nearly an hour.
Midway into the journey, Darcy pulled Elizabeth to straddle his lap, and proceeded to graze her ears, cheeks and mouth with his kisses. Despite Elizabeth’s protest about his fake moustache, he continued the exploration, and his hands wandered down her body.
“I forbid you to wear trousers in the future. It is most inconvenient,” Darcy soon objected.
Elizabeth’s eyes widened with surprise. “Fitzwilliam, you are not thinking… indeed you are not…?”
Darcy smiled devilishly. “Now who is the one who has forgotten about the disguise? And whyever could we not?”
He then pushed her away from him and pulled both his and her trousers down before hauling the stunned Elizabeth to sit back up on his thighs again, only this time facing away from him. He licked and suckled her neck and earlobes from behind. The bumpy movements of the carriage and his ministrations, as well as her own dishabille, soon excited her and made her wet. He felt her blazing heat as well. His manhood was hard and stood magnificently, demanding attention. He quickly lifted her enough to lower her onto his shaft.
The incredible sensation of having connected with her felt wonderful. He squeezed his eyes shut to savour it. After a short while, he held her waist and helped her to raise and lower her body onto him in a slow rhythm.
Elizabeth was an apt student and soon did not require his assistance. She raised her hands to hold his head firmly to her neck from behind and bounced on his thighs with vigour. She squirmed and rubbed against him when he was deep inside her. She bit her lips hard to prevent moaning out loud. This was such a novel situation to her that she soon felt the tightening of some unknown muscles. She pulled his hand to her mouth and bit onto him to muffle her cry when she reached her peak.
Darcy winced at the pain, but he was also shivering with his own needs. When she stopped the bouncing movement, he held her waist again and thrust vigorously into her from beneath. Not long afterwards, he reached his climax and buried his face against her back to drown out his own loud moans of pleasure.
After this wild coupling, the pair tidied themselves as best they could and drifted off to sleep, well-pleased with married life and with one another.
Later in the day, the carriage slowed to a stop. The couple exited the carriage and Mr. Darcy nodded to his head coachman, who was also somewhat in disguise, being dressed in less than his usual elegant clothing so that he might appear as an ordinary post driver.
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth walked the rest of the way down the river and soon arrived at a small village which seemed to fit the description that had been wrested from Miss Bingley’s maid. Darcy's men had previously scouted several villages along River Orwell before returning with reports of a possible sighting of the witch in this particular village.
The disguised couple walked along, examining the houses and shops in the small village until they came upon a depilated hut near the bend of the river. As they approached, they heard voices arguing from inside, and one of those voices sounded very like…
“Is it not Miss Bingley?” Elizabeth whispered to her husband.
“I believe so.” He said.
“Should we go in or wait?”
He looked around. As the hut was in an obscured location, away from the main village, she thought it prudent to wait. So decided, he signaled for his wife to walk quietly to the side of the hut. Through the slightly opened window, they were able to hear and see what went on inside.
Miss Bingley had her hands on her hips and was shouting loudly at an elderly woman dressed in rags. The old lady was sitting in front of a small table.
“You must reverse your witchcraft! I cannot have my eyes permanently criss-crossed and nose twisted. How am I to appear in public, or attend balls, or find a rich husband? I shall be ridiculed by the ton.” The angry voice of Miss Bingley was loud and clear.
“Follow the ritual or hell shall break loose. I told you that.”
“I shall pay you another sum to turn me back into a beautiful woman.”
“That you won’t. Yer body's been touched by the Devil. No witch can handle further.”
“Then I am going to kill you, you ugly old witch!” Miss Bingley screamed, and lunged onto the old lady. Outside, Elizabeth and Darcy gasped and were preparing to burst into the hut to rescue the elderly witch, but green smoke exploded from inside.
Mr. Darcy pulled Elizabeth back, away from the smoke. After they were a clear distance away from the hut, they saw Miss Bingley emerge, covered with green dust, coughing hard soon afterwards. The door of the hut banged shut behind her. As soon as she had caught her breath, she screamed and kicked at the door, continuing for a long while, until at last she was hoarse.
But her effort was in vain. The door would not open. Finally, she abandoned her futile attempts and stalked toward a boat tied farther down the river.
“What should we do?” Elizabeth asked her husband, after they saw the boat leave.
“We have come this far. Let us inquire as to whether the witch will see us.”
“But what if she hurts us?”
“The maid said she was a good witch. It appears she did not hurt Miss Bingley, even after she threatened to kill her. That green smoke was probably just a diversion to force Miss Bingley out of the hut.”
Elizabeth nodded and placed her hand on his, willing to trust his judgment in the matter. Together, they walked to the hut and knocked.
The door opened immediately, but nobody appeared near the door. They walked in cautiously. The green smoke had all disappeared, so they could clearly see the old lady sitting in front of the table just as she had been before — calm and collected.
“Pray excuse us, Madam, but we are wondering if you are Ipswich the Good Witch?” Mr. Darcy asked.
“Yes, indeed. Do come forward. It is a ple
asure to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.”
The couple gasped, quite surprised that she knew who they were, even in disguise.
Darcy replied, “It is also our pleasure to make your acquaintance, Madam. I believe we have something of yours which we wish to return.” He took out the doll from a bag he was carrying.
“Ah, it is very kind of you to bring back the doll, Mr. Darcy. I like to reuse my materials as much as possible. It is good to the Earth for us not to be wasteful.”
“Then you are aware that Miss Bingley performed the… that wanton spell on my wife? We would be very much in your debt if you can assure us that there will not be any permanent effect upon her.”
“But, indeed, sir, there will be.” The old witch said.
They looked at each other and Mr. Darcy asked apprehensively, “What will it be?”
“Quite simply, the two of you will experience a forever-joyous union, well into your old ages.”
The couple blushed bright red and smiled at each other. Mr. Darcy then said, “Thank you, Madam. Although I do not think we needed a spell in order to be forever blissful together.”
“Perhaps not, but did Miss Bingley’s maid not tell you? My magic only works on people who deserve it.”
“Yes, indeed! Thank you, Madam. May I ask… what did Miss Bingley mean, when she complained that she was permanently cross-eyed and had a twisted nose?”
“She attempted to perform a second curse, but not according to the exact instructions, thus causing the curse to befall herself.”
“A second curse?”
“Miss Bingley came back here a day after she obtained the first package to ask for a second curse in particular. She was worried that the first one might not work. She wanted your wife to have crossed eyes and a twisted nose. But she performed the spell without any of Mrs. Darcy’s hair, so the last one to have touched the black candle bore the brunt of that second curse.”
“My Lord, I had no idea that she was so vengeful. Thank you, Madam, for explaining this all to us. We will leave you now.”