A/N
HLW - Chapter 3 for your perusal, hope you enjoy.
Thank you so much to for all the engagement, kind words and feedback – keeps me motivated 😊. As always, feedback, suggestions, corrections all are welcome for this fresh installment.
N.
Her Last WordsChapter 3Darcy swallowed hard and stared at the woman who had appeared in his study out of nowhere. So, it had not been a play of light earlier in the day, as he had convinced himself? Quite unable to believe his eyes, he wondered if he was having a bad dream. A very long and very bad dream – in the first half of which Mrs Bennet had died despite all his efforts, and now, in the second half, she had come to visit him in his study!
It was almost as if the woman could read his mind. "No need to pinch yourself, Mr Darcy. You are not dreaming, I really am here."
Before he could react in any manner there was a knock on the door, and the footman, Michael, peered inside to ask, "Is everything all right, Mr Darcy?"
The footman was obviously reacting to the discordant noise made by the fallen tumbler. For a long moment, Darcy waited for Michael to notice Mrs Bennet's presence in his study. But the footman looked through her as if she did not exist. Which was understandable – how could Mrs Bennet be here in this house? She had passed away just hours before. Unfortunately, Darcy could still see her as she made her way to the only window in the room and sat on the settee next to it.
"Mr Darcy, the footman is waiting for a response," the lady reminded him helpfully after making herself comfortable.
Darcy blinked and then cleared his throat. "Er... no, not really, Michael. There has been a minor mishap. I was careless while placing the tumbler on the table and the outcome, as you can see, was predictable." Darcy pointed towards the mess on the floor.
"Ah... so that is why... let me get this cleared up, sir." Michael exclaimed and sprang into action. Although it was difficult, Darcy prudently kept quiet while his study was being set to rights. Contrary to Mrs Bennet's advice, he did pinch himself. The lady had been correct on both counts; he was indeed awake and, if he believed his own eyes, she was sitting on his favourite settee by the window. And no matter how many times he looked away from the settee, he found her seated on it whenever he glanced back.
Was he having a hallucination, or was this something else? As soon as the door closed behind the maid and the footman, he turned to Mrs Bennet and exclaimed, "But you... you are dead..."
"You will get no argument from me on that, Mr Darcy," Mrs Bennet retorted with a shake of her head.
"Then what are you doing here?" Darcy struggled to keep his voice low because he did not want the footman to come barging in once again.
"What am I doing here in your house or on this earth?"
"Uh... both, I suppose."
"Well... I am here in your home because I need help and for some reason you are the only one who can see me in... in this... ethereal form. No one else can hear or see me, not Jane, not Lizzy, not my brother, nor his wife, Madeline." Mrs Bennet appeared disconsolate.
"But... why are you here at all? I... I mean here, among the living?"
"Because of my runaway tongue, Mr Darcy. Do not ever be in a hurry to promise something as the last thing you would ever do... because... it may just be the last thing that you promise... and HE may then leave you to fulfill that promise even if you are no longer of this earth."
Darcy looked at her in puzzlement, not quite understanding her meaning. "And... what was this last thing you promised before you... er... passed on?" he enquired slowly.
"That is the problem, Mr Darcy, I have not passed on... not completely."
"Ah... yes... yes... I can see what you mean." Darcy swallowed and took an involuntary step backwards, wondering if he was really talking to a newly minted ghost or if he was slowly going mad.
"But to answer your query, just before that young man came charging on that beastly horse and gave me the last shock of my life, I was promising to get my Jane married to Mr Bingley."
"Oh..."
"Yes... so... now you understand why I am here. Not only you can see and hear me, but you are also in a position to help me bring Jane and your friend together."
"Oh..."
"Is that all you have to say? If I had not heard you defend Lizzy so eloquently to your aunt, I would once more believe that you are that rude, arrogantly monosyllabic Mr Darcy we met in Meryton. I was emboldened to reveal myself to you only because you routed your aunt so heroically."
Even as Darcy wondered how long the spectre of Mrs Bennet had been inside Darcy House, the lady continued, "Although when Lizzy told us that it was you who informed her about Miss Bingley's duplicity, I knew that you could not be as bad as you appeared... oh..." Mrs Bennet's voice petered out uncomfortably.
"Was that all Miss Elizabeth had to say?"
"Well... that is all I overheard. Why? Is there something else I should know?"
Darcy cursed himself for his carelessness. It was hardly judicious to enrage a ghost by telling her that he was responsible for keeping her favourite daughter's beau away from her. But now that he had raised Mrs Bennet's suspicions, he felt compelled to say something – he decided to stick to the obvious, even if it had eluded the lady.
"Umm... just that I... I, too, did not notify Bingley about Miss Bennet's visit to his house once Miss Bingley informed me about it," he replied hesitantly.
"Oh..." Mrs Bennet took a moment to digest the information before brushing it aside airily. "I am sure Miss Bingley pestered you to keep quiet about the whole thing."
While it was true that Miss Bingley had cited Bingley's continued susceptibility to Miss Bennet's wiles to keep her visit a secret from him, he – Darcy, had hardly been a reluctant partner in that particular scheme. However, he wisely decided to keep this fact to himself now that Mrs Bennet was eager to brush aside his culpability.
It appeared she had more pressing issues to consider. "So... will you help me to unite Jane and Mr Bingley?"
"I have been thinking about it ever since Miss Elizabeth told me about Miss Bennet's partiality for Bingley," Darcy replied, hoping that Mrs. Bennet would not inquire any further about his conversation with Elizabeth. To his relief, she did not.
"Well, quit thinking... and do something about it. It is in your best interests. After all...,"
"After all?" he prompted uneasily.
"After all, you would not want me chasing you around for the rest of your life. I would not want to do that but... you are the only person with whom I can communicate and who has some influence over Mr. Bingley."
The thought of Mrs Bennet haunting him for the rest of his life was terrifying. To dispel a sudden sense of suffocation, Darcy said a little desperately, "Mr Bennet will be arriving tomorrow. Perhaps he will be able to see you."
"Ha... when I was alive, the man did not want to see or hear me. Do you think he will want to see me now that I am dead? I am sure that even if he could see me, he would pretend otherwise!" Mrs Bennet's words were acerbic, but Darcy could sense the hurt behind them.
He hurriedly tried to divert her angry thoughts. "While I cannot guarantee the outcome of my efforts, I shall undoubtedly tell Bingley the truth and... I am confident he will be eager to follow his heart."
Mrs Bennet face brightened visibly. "So... what are we waiting for? Let us go to Mr Bingley's house at once."
"We cannot do that, Mrs Bennet." Darcy's tone was apologetic.
"And why not?" she asked impatiently.
"Er... Bingley is not in London at the moment. He and his family members are in Scarborough presently."
"Ah... so that is why only the servants were present in his house earlier today. I did wonder..." Mrs Bennet's voice petered off.
Suddenly, she got up from the settee and started to pace agitatedly. "To think I lost my life attempting to do something that would not have even been possible today..." She let out a humourless chuckle.
"I know I should not have rushed through my plan... But... I was furious when I discovered Miss Bingley had attempted to harm poor Jane, who was already suffering her brother's abandonment. My brave girl did her best to bear the snide remarks of our Meryton friends and neighbours, but I could sense her distress. That is why Caroline Bingley's evil machinations enraged me so much that I..." The lady paused with a helpless shrug.
There was an uncomfortable silence as Mrs Bennet became lost in her thoughts. Darcy was once again reminded of his own culpability in hurting Miss Bennet. The fact that, despite her greed and machinations, Mrs Bennet was genuinely concerned about the happiness of her daughter surprised and discomfited him in equal measures. He could not help but compare Mrs Bennet's attitude with that of his aunt from moments ago. Lady Catherine had insisted on his marriage to Anne with no regard for Anne's happiness, leave aside his own.
Darcy came out of his reverie to hear Mrs Bennet speaking to him. "So, what are we going to do now?"
The lady was standing much closer than he had expected and it was with difficulty that he stopped himself from jumping backwards.
"Umm... I will write to Bingley about today's sad events. I will also tell him the truth about Miss Bennet's visit to their home earlier this year. I am sure he will hurry back to London as soon as he gets my missive."
Very deliberately, Darcy went behind his desk. He took his own seat after offering one to Mrs Bennet. The presence of a large table between them immediately made him feel better.
"But how would that help? By the time he comes back to London my family will be in Longbourn. How would he and Jane then meet and resolve their differences?" Mrs Bennet objected.
"I am sure Bingley would want to commiserate in person with your family, especially Miss Bennet."
"Hmm... Then promise me that you will accompany him to Meryton to assist me... and whenever the two of you decide to travel, please encourage him to leave his sisters behind. I am confident that if he and Jane meet without the detrimental influence of his scheming sisters, their differences would be resolved much sooner."
It was difficult to refute the truth of this statement. Although he was not sure how he was supposed to influence the outcome if Miss Bingley did decide to accompany her brother, his knowledge of her temperament made him hopeful.
"Given that Miss Bingley has already missed a part of the London season and its festivities, I doubt that she or Mrs Hurst will be in any hurry to leave the metropolis once they arrive here," he said reassuringly.
"Well, then, I will be impatiently waiting for you gentlemen to visit Meryton at the earliest. I am confident you, like me, would be eager to see your friend and Jane reunite, if only to ensure that I do not have to make visitations like these any more than are absolutely necessary."
Darcy should have felt threatened, given that these words were coming from a spectre. But as he looked at Mrs Bennet's rueful smile and the entreaty in her eyes, all he felt was a vague sense of pity.
"I will send the missive to Bingley today itself," he promised.
Mrs Bennet nodded and murmured softly, "Not half as bad as I thought."
The silence in the room was broken by the sound of the lady's deep sigh. "Until I see you again, Mr Darcy," she said, and suddenly Darcy was all alone in his study. He blinked and hurriedly looked around the room, but no one else was there. The thought of hallucinations entered his mind once again and he decided to pour himself another restorative glass of port.
~§§§~
Darcy went to Gracechurch Street the very next day, presumably to express his condolences to Mr Bennet. But there were two other reasons for his visit.
One, he needed to reassure himself that he was not losing his mind and that Mrs Bennet was indeed still present in the land of the living. He didn't know whether to be glad or sorry when the lady approached him as soon as he entered the Gardiner's drawing room and right away reminded him of his promise to return to Longbourn with Bingley. Obviously, he could not speak to her in front of others, but he still managed to convey to her that the letter to Bingley had already been dispatched – by pulling his right lobe with his left hand – as the lady herself had advised! She sure has an odd sense of humour, he thought resignedly as he turned his gaze towards Elizabeth, the second reason for his visit today.
He had longed for a glimpse before she left for Longbourn. He knew she would not be looking for it, but he wanted to offer her whatever little help he could. Despite her efforts to appear stoic, she appeared wan and a little forlorn, to Darcy's discerning eyes. Naturally, he could not do what he wanted most – reach out and take hold of her hand. Pursing his lips in frustration, he looked away from her.
Miss Bennet sat looking delicate and grief stricken, very much in need of comfort. It was therefore unsurprising that Mrs Gardiner hovered around her eldest niece, even as Darcy observed Elizabeth surreptitiously wipe away a tear from her cheek. Her family's inability to see through her pretence of bravery, infuriated him. Could they not see she was hurting as much as Miss Bennet? But... perhaps he was being unfair to them; after all, they were all trying to deal with extremely sad and difficult circumstances.
He sighed and looked over to the other occupied corner of the drawing room. Mr Gardiner and Mr Bennet were sitting apart from the ladies, quietly discussing the arrangements necessitated by the tragedy. The latter beckoned to Darcy just then, and he went to offer the man his commiserations.
~§§§~
When the time came for Darcy to take his leave, he could not do so without exchanging a few words with Elizabeth. By now, a little girl of around four years was sitting next to her on the sofa. Elizabeth had her arm around the little one, who clearly appeared unhappy. Darcy began by expressing his sympathies once more when he was abruptly cut off mid-sentence.
"How you growed so tall and strong, mister?" the child asked him abruptly.
"Ah... er..." Darcy was taken aback by the totally unexpected interruption.
"Rose! You know it is impolite to interrupt someone when they are speaking," Elizabeth gently chided the youngster before performing the introductions. Darcy had deduced it correctly, the little one was Elizabeth's cousin, Rose Gardiner.
"You also telled, Lizzie... it is rude not to speak when spoken to," young Miss Gardiner persisted, staring at Darcy, waiting for him to respond.
"Of course, yes..." Darcy smiled at the child as he considered his response. It was obvious that the question was all-important to young Rose. Darcy suddenly remembered the maid he had passed on his way to the duo in front of him. That harried young woman was carrying a tray with a glass on it - a glass half full of milk. So, that was the crux of the matter - milk.
"Well, Miss Rose, I grew big and strong because I regularly drank milk when I was a little boy." The statement had a very different effect on the two people who were facing him. While Elizabeth looked pleased, little Rose did not appear overly thrilled.
"Are you sure, Mr Dawcy?" she asked doubtfully.
"Oh, I am very sure, my dear. After all I had it every day for years and years."
"But... I wanta grow pretty like Lizzy. She is not tall an' big and she do not like milk!" Miss Gardiner countered triumphantly.
"That is not fair, Rosie, my pet. You asked me which I preferred between tea and milk. That I prefer tea, does not mean that I do not like milk! Let me tell you, when I was a little girl like you, my Mama made me drink milk every... single... day." Although Elizabeth's words were lighthearted, her expression dimmed when she mentioned her mother. Little Rose, however, dragged her back from her melancholy.
"Then why you do not grow tall an' big like Mr Dawcy?" Rose asked reasonably.
Elizabeth tried hard to think of a logical explanation for this very valid question. Unfortunately, she was unable to come up with a reasonable enough response that would satisfy her precocious cousin. She then decided to direct the problem to the one who had started it all.
"Umm... Mr Darcy will explain that to you, my dear."
Darcy was stumped at the sudden attack, and for a brief moment, he could only stare blankly at the two young ladies gazing back at him expectantly. "Ah... er..." he stammered stupidly, until an unexpected idea struck him. Feeling relieved, he bent down to pick up Miss Rose in his arms.
"It is very simple, Miss Rose, but first let me confirm something from your cousin Lizzy," Darcy said, beaming at the little girl. Elizabeth could literally see her young cousin losing the battle to the man holding her in his arms.
"Miss Elizabeth, is it correct that you used to drink one glass of milk every day when you were a little girl?"
Elizabeth had no idea where he was going with this argument, but replied in the affirmative, as he clearly wanted her to.
"See... that is your answer, Miss Rose. Your cousin Lizzy is so beautiful but... er... not so very tall..." Darcy shot Elizabeth an apologetic look and continued, "... Because she used to drink just one glass of milk every day. You should meet my sister Georgie, who is pretty, just like Miss Elizabeth, but she is also tall... like me. And do you know why?"
"Why?" The question came as Darcy had known it would.
"Because Georgie used to drink two glasses of milk every day!" he replied with a triumphant smile.
"Oh..." The pat response appeared to force young Rose to ponder the matter. She observed Darcy for a long moment before asking him, "When you were little, you drink two glasses of milk like Gogie?"
"Why do you ask that, Miss Rose?" Darcy asked curiously and received a happy smile in return. "'coz you are tall an' bootiful like Gogie."
"Er... I thank you for the compliment, Miss Rose."
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth as he heard a choking sound emanating from her and flushed as he noticed her amused smile even as she hastily tried to hide it behind her hand. As he stood there watching her, another smile appeared in her eyes – her beautiful eyes, that now glowed with warm approval.
"Thank you," she mouthed, and he could only nod mutely.
He had no great recollection of what he said to her as he took his leave because his mind was preoccupied by only one thought – Elizabeth's eyes no longer flashed with dislike. Instead, they were warm with appreciation. So... if he tried hard enough, he could alter her opinion of him.
~§§§~
Her Last Words
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