A Ghost of Attraction

Fitzwilliam Darcy keeps finding a mysterious young woman in his path, though she seems to disappears just as quickly as she appears. Who can she be, and what is this strange connection which seems to pull them together?

Derbyshire, June, 1811

First Encounter

George and Anne Darcy had opened their vast park lands to the public early on in their marriage. After all, so many had raved about the amazing trails and the beautiful views offered in the ten square miles of woods, peaks, valleys, and streams. When Lady Anne had passed after the birth of her daughter, George Darcy had made no move to rescind his permissions. And when he followed his wife into glory only nine years later, his son had been too busy learning how to run the vast estate to concern himself with such a trivial issue.

It should not have surprised Fitzwilliam Darcy, therefore, when he rode his horse around a bend in the trail and discovered an outsider sitting on a boulder and taking in one of his own favorite views. This stranger was not usual, however. She was petite, at least an inch shorter than his own dear sister Georgiana, who was a mere fifteen. This young woman was possessed of the delightful curves of an adult woman. She had lightly curly chestnut hair, just this side of auburn, and a sweet, rounded, pixie face. In any other woman, he would have noticed those lips next, but in this young woman it was her eyes which immediately captured his attention.

Her eyes were dark brown, almost as black as her pupils, but large and possessed of a spark... a twinkle perhaps... which immediately denoted a joy of life, and possibly an intelligence, different than any that Darcy had seen before. He slowed Apollo to a halt, then tipped his top hat to her. "Your pardon, Miss... I would not normally speak to you without a proper introduction, but you seem to be here alone... and you are on my land. Might I ask how you came to be here?"

She stood in an almost dreamlike manner and then graced him with a smile which made his chest ache. "I apologize if I am trespassing," then she looked around for a moment, as if pondering something confusing. One eyebrow raised, her face communicating the quandary in her head, "As to how I came to be here... I wonder..."

Darcy began to feel concern for the young woman. Although she did not appear injured... or drunk... she seemed... somewhat lost? Making the decision to investigate further, he moved to dismount. Apollo seemed to startle somewhat and turn, leaving Darcy to wrestle one booted foot out of the stirrup. Annoyed, but relieved when he freed his over-extended leg, he finally looked up to speak to the young woman...

… and she was nowhere to be seen.

Second Encounter

It was two mornings later when Darcy found her again, this time walking a trail that followed the river on the opposite side of Pemberley's large park. He saw her at a distance, skipping lightly without a care in the world. Despite his pride in always behaving like a gentleman, he could not help but notice that she was as appealing from behind as when encountered face-on. She had a light and pleasing figure which seemed to demand his attention and approval, though there was absolutely nothing inappropriate in her dress.

Still disconcerted after his last encounter, he spurred Arthos forward. "See here, Miss!" He said, rather more sharply than he had intended. The young lady stopped skipping and turned, unafraid. Then she graced him with one of those smiles again. "Oh! It's you!" She curtsied. Then she looked at his mount and tilted her head in a delightful way, "This is a different horse, however. The last was black, I believe? And how are you on this fine morning?"

"That was Apollo. This is Arthos. How..." Darcy fought the urge to growl, "I am well, Miss. Now, could you please tell me how you come to be so deep on Pemberley property without an escort... again?"

As before, that beautiful face turned as if looking for something, "The beautiful lady brought me, but she seems to vanish soon thereafter." She seemed to shake off the puzzle and looked around at the view with pleasure in her eyes, "You do seem to have a beautiful estate here. This view is so different from the other. You may be proud. She said that she was proud of you." The young woman regarded him with interest but Darcy could see no mercenary intent. He tried to parse her words...

"Who is it who said that she was proud of me? Your words make no sense."

She raised an eyebrow, that same fascinating gesture from their previous encounter, "She had your eyes, the woman... but her hair was blond. She also has your manner of speaking... sophisticated and somewhat haughty... though she was not attempting to give offense..." Then that beautiful smile again, "Oh, I know! Was she your mother?"

Darcy was immediately incensed. "See here! I find no humor in..." He had only looked away for the barest of moments, but the girl was gone again. This time there was no possible way that she was nearby and only hiding. The nearest bush or tree was a full twenty yards away. Even his two great stallions, Apollo and Arthos, could not have run that fast!

In a state of confusion and disquiet, Darcy turned his horse towards the estate. Oddly, his mind was fixated on his younger sister, Georgiana for the remainder of the afternoon, even though the beautiful apparition with chestnut hair and large, sparkling eyes danced through his thoughts.

Third Encounter

The next morning it was raining. Darcy arose as usual, broke his fast as normal, and sat down in his study to address the business of the day. Ten minutes later, Darcy was up again. He could not concentrate. On a morning like this there was little or no likelihood that the mysterious girl would be out in the fields or on a trail. Besides, he could not afford the distraction! If he had time to spend or waste, he would have devoted it to Georgiana! But no! He was here at Pemberley with a mountain of business to attend to!

He sat back down and soon his steward, Mr. McConnell, made his appearance and began sifting through the issues of the estate. Darcy was so deep into his work an hour later that he barely caught his steward's last bit of gossip, "... she took a pretty serious spill. Doctor says that her arm isn't broke, but he's very worried about her head. Said 'tis a near run thing, her surviving of it and awakin'. Always is with head injuries. Poor Miss Madeleine, as was, believe her last name is Gardiner now. She positively loves her niece, even if the girl is a mite too adventurous at times."

"I apologize, McConnell, but who are we speaking of? I was focused elsewhere."

"Oh, sorry. I was speakin' of Miss Bennet. Pretty little thing afore the fall. Great big eyes'll make a man's head spin. The Gardiners came to visit Mrs. Gardiner's father, Mr. Powell, and t'do some exploring. Seems that the girl likes to climb. She climbed up by Tobbin's point and her foot slipped. Knocked her head but good. Now she's been asleep and they're all hoping that she wakes up soon. Odd thing. There're times she seems close to waking and then she'll be gone off to that deep sleep again."

"When did this happen?" Darcy all but demanded, alarmed at the idea of the mysterious girl coming to harm.

"Going on four days, I believe," the steward answered, confused at Mr. Darcy's vehemence.

Darcy felt relieved. It could not have been his mysterious stranger. Thirty more minutes wrapped up his business with the gossipy steward. Once the man was gone, Darcy felt the need to move about. The girl's mention of his mother made him miss her, so he carried his cup of coffee with him to the long hall which paralleled the ball room and served as the portrait hall.

He was shocked and bewildered when he turned the corner to find that same beautiful apparition standing before the very portrait which had called to him. He was about to rebuke this upstart for entering his home without permission, when she turned and regarded him with genuine concern in her eyes, "She says that you have to go to your sister, Sir! She says that you have to go now, before its too late!"

"Who says that?! How did you get in here?"

The girl pointed to the portrait, "She brought me. She is the one who has been visiting me. Now you have to listen. She cannot come to you herself, but says that she can speak with me because I am in between... but that is neither here nor there. What matters is this: an old friend turn enemy is with your sister right now, trying to destroy everything that you have left to care about in this world. There is no time. You must go, and you must go now!"

"See here!" Darcy began. The girl bore a concerned look on her face, but as she began to step towards him, hand raised, she vanished. This time there was no question."

Darcy looked about frantically, then finally at his mother's portrait. Somehow that face he loved so dearly seemed to be trying to speak to him. Go, Fitzwilliam! Go now!

Wasting no more time, Darcy ran. After giving his valet instructions to pack, he then instructed the butler to have his fastest carriage made ready. Before another hour had passed, Darcy was heading southward.

Hertfordshire, September, 1811

Two people at the assembly that night tried, without success, to understand why they should be drawn to the other. They had been aware of each other since almost the moment they found themselves in the same large room. She had noticed his tall, distinguished person when he first walked in, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. He had noticed her first when she chanced to laugh at something that a friend said. His eyes found her like a magnet to iron filings and his eyes had continued to seek her out throughout the ensuing hours.

The visiting gentleman certainly did not want to be at this assembly. His mind was twenty-five miles away, where his broken sister was sequestered away at his uncle and aunt's home. I should be with her, though my presence only seems to discomfit her more. I should have run George through with my sword when I had him within my grasp! But I needed his confession; I needed Georgiana to hear the truth from his own foul mouth. Otherwise she might have continued to hold onto his lies. He always did like to brag about his triumphs over me! But she took the truth too hard...

Darcy's eyes drifted over towards the young lady again. The ghost of a memory pulled at him, but the past months had been terrible and he had buried himself in work to avoid thinking. Yet there was something... "Remember, my dear son. Remember."

He shook himself. There was the voice again. The voice he loved so dearly. But that was impossible, so he tried to deny it at the same time he longed to hear it again. Ever since... ever since...

Darcy did not remember walking over toward where the mysterious young woman sat, but somehow he was there, standing only ten feet away.

Elizabeth had finished her dance with John Lucas and had asked him to escort her to this distant side of the hall, far away from her mother. Ever since her accident that summer, her mother had used any signs of weakness on Elizabeth's part to berate her for her "hoydenish, headstrong, foolish ways!" Sadly, Elizabeth had to admit, if only to herself, that climbing onto those boulders for a better view had been foolish. She still remembered her aunt warning her to "be careful, Lizzie..." just before her foot found some moss and she was falling. When she woke again it was eight days later. She had been in a deep sleep for the entire time, so near death that her father had been sent for.

Months had gone by now. The broken bones were fully mended and her headaches were gone, but there were times when her energy suddenly left her. Usually they were short-lived, but tonight there was a combination of exhaustion and an odd euphoria. The euphoria was wrapped around the tall, dark, and handsome stranger who seemed bent upon spending an entire night avoiding everyone in a crowded hall. Normally she might be annoyed with such behavior, but her mind was too taken with the odd pull she felt towards this man. Certainly he was handsome! Of that there was no question... but was that the reason? And why did she feel as if she knew him?

As Mr. Darcy stood there, his friend and host Mr. Bingley walked up to him and demanded that he dance. Darcy, too lost in his own thoughts to respond with annoyance, could only state honestly, "I apologize, Charles, but I must be too tired from the trip today. I do not feel up to an assembly such as this. If you will excuse me, I will go outside and get some air."

Charles Bingley, ever accommodating, arranged instead for his carriage to convey his friend to Netherfield and then return at the end of the ball. When Miss Bingley learned of the matter, she made herself ridiculous by her loud protests and determination to also depart early. But Charles had been promised another set by that delightful angel, Miss Bennet, and he stood firm that the rest of his party would last out the evening.

When Mrs. Bennet complained about Mr. Darcy's rudeness on the short carriage ride back to Longbourn, Elizabeth explained what she had overheard, "So you see, Mother, he must have been feeling unwell. I think that he may have been avoiding people lest his malady be contagious."

Elizabeth knew her mother well. She avoided sick people at all costs. As expected, Mrs. Bennet huffed and said, "Well, he should not have come at all, but at least he had the good sense to stay clear."

~oOo~

What was it that the Bard wrote in Hamlet's famous soliloquy? "What dreams may come?" Though neither Darcy nor Elizabeth were near death that night, the dreams certainly came. Mr. Darcy saw visions of a dark haired beauty who appeared and disappeared... a young lady who carried a warning from beyond the grave. Darcy had dismissed those memories as ridiculous and had lost them in the very real travails of his sister. Now, as he slept, the memories returned. It is her! It has to be! But how?

"Is it not obvious, my dear son?" The voice of Fitzwilliam Darcy's beloved mother spoke into his mind. That voice which he had only begun to hear through the facility of that mysterious young woman. "Find her tomorrow, my son. She will be as bewildered at you, but her explanation shall make the matter clear. And Fitzwilliam... I find her most worthy. It was only through her pure heart that I was able to reach you in your sister's time of trouble."

Elizabeth also dreamed. For her, it was the memories of feeling trapped in darkness until a beautiful angel came to her. Rather than wake her, the woman took her to beautiful places and told her stories. Elizabeth also remembered meeting the same man from the assembly, first on a high ridge overlooking an beautiful landscape, then on a road bordering a lake, and finally in a grand home. She remembered the urgency with which the angel pressed her to convey a message... and she remembered that each time she saw the man she did not wish to leave him.

She woke early, even earlier than usual, and felt the need to brave the cool dawn and climb to the highest promontory in Meryton, Oakham Mount. She had spoken of the hill with the angel, had told of how it was her favorite place to be alone in her thoughts. This morning it was still so dark that it was only her familiarity with the trail which allowed her to reach the crest without stumbling. There was so much on her mind that her feet had to complete the walk without her conscious intervention.

Yet when she crested the hill, Elizabeth found that she was not alone. There was the man, seated on a boulder and overlooking her favorite view. Without thinking, Elizabeth blurted, "So you have brought Apollo with you, I see."

He rose quickly, looking both spooked and pleased, "Please don't disappear on me again? It is you, is it not? The mysterious young lady from Pemberley?"

Elizabeth tilted her head in thought, completely oblivious to how alluring the gesture was. "The name sounds familiar. I believe that my aunt may have mentioned an estate by that name prior to my accident."

"Accident?"

Elizabeth blushed, "I foolishly climbed on a pile of boulders to extend my view while we were in the Peak District. Sadly, my feet went out from under me and I took a bad fall. I was in a deep sleep for more than a week in the village of Lambton. Do you know of the village?"

"Why, it is only five miles from my doorstep at Pemberley! And now, as I remember it, my steward did speak of a young woman who was in dire condition and under the care of our local physician. But it still does not explain how we came to meet. If you were sick-abed, then how...?"

Both Darcy and Elizabeth were the souls of propriety when it came to conduct between men and women, yet neither thought it strange when Darcy took her arm and gently led her to take a seat on the boulder before he resumed his own. Nor did either balk when his hand retained contact with hers for much longer than necessary. Elizabeth seemed lost in thought. Darcy waited.

Finally she spoke, "The angel... the lady came to me in my darkness. According to Mr. Bainbridge, the physician, I was near to death for the first few days. She came to me several times, taking me to the most beautiful places. She held a great love for the home of her mortal life and she showed me much of it. And then there was you. Whenever you showed up, she tried almost desperately to speak to you, but the very act seemed to violate some rule and I was once again in darkness.

"Then, the last time, I was in her home... your home... and she showed me herself in life. When you came, she begged me to convey the message that she was unable to deliver herself. But just as I did so, I found myself in a room with my aunt. She was calling to me in my agitation. It was another three days before I was fully awake."

Elizabeth looked into the tall, handsome man's eyes, "How I longed to hold onto sleep... to speak to her one more time... to speak to you... oh!" Elizabeth suddenly realized that her hand still lingered in his and she jumped up in agitation, "Forgive me! What you must think of me!"

But Darcy was having none of it, "No! Please! It was my fault. I wanted to retain contact... to keep you from flitting away again like a dream. Please do not go?" The last was said with such a plea in his eyes that Elizabeth calmed. She found that she could not deny him this request... and she found that she did not wish to deny herself his presence.

They sat again and then Elizabeth had to ask, "Your sister? Is she... is she well? Safe?"

Fitzwilliam Darcy was a very private man, but he found himself revealing everything about that summer, holding nothing back. Then he met Elizabeth's eyes and said, "I would like to introduce her to you... blast! Oh, forgive me? Do you know that we have not even been introduced yet? Since we have already broken half of the rules of propriety this morning, may we take it a step further and make our own introductions?"

Elizabeth laughed delightedly, stood, and raised an eyebrow to signal him to begin. Darcy stood and bowed, then said, "May I take the liberty of introducing myself, my lady? I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, of Pemberley in Derbyshire."

Elizabeth gave a pretty curtsy and responded in kind, "I am very pleased to meet you, Mr. Darcy. I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire."

"I am greatly honored to meet you, Miss Elizabeth," Darcy said, taking one more liberty by raiding one of her dainty hands to his lips. That brief contact was electric and left both of them flushed. "Now, I believe that we have broken as many of the rules as we dare. May I humbly request the honor of paying a call on you later this morning?"

Elizabeth found her breath and her voice before replying, "As much as I would enjoy your visit this day, I fear that it would be unwise. Tradition says that the day after a ball is usually reserved for rest. My mother and sisters will most likely not rise until well after the noon hour." On seeing his disappointment she quickly added, "But tomorrow would be quite acceptable. In fact, I hope to see you then?"

Hertfordshire, January, 1812

It was evidence of Mr. Darcy's fascination with Elizabeth that he barely noticed all of the faults and foibles of the Bennet family during their courtship and later engagement. In fact, the only times that his mind was pulled away from thoughts of the lovely young lady was when he had to deal with outside issues.

The first issue was the sudden and unwelcome appearance of George Wickham in the neighborhood. Thankfully that matter was easily dealt with by his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. There was an unexpected levy on the _ Militia for ten bodies and an officer to be sent to the continent. The locals barely noticed the sudden departure, though a few silly girls did sigh after the handsome and heroic Lieutenant. George Wickham managed to irritate his superior officer enough that he was busted down to rifleman and sent into battle. No further reports were available on the man thereafter.

The next issue came from Darcy's aunt's parson, who also happened to be Elizabeth's relative and the heir presumptive of Longbourn. The man was religiously devoted to his patroness' every word, so he could not accept the idea that Mr. Darcy was paying court to his own unworthy cousin when he was already engaged to Anne deBourgh. It took a rather inflammatory visit from his aunt and Mr. Bennet's firm ejection of his cousin to end that ordeal. Thankfully Darcy had the confidence of his mother's voice to assure him that there was never any cradle engagement.

The last major issue came in the form of Miss Caroline Bingley, who, in her own twisted imagination, had already claimed Mr. Darcy for her own husband. When news of the engagement between Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet reached her, she resolved upon compromise as the only means to set matters right. That night Miss Bingley became the third living person to have a visit from the non-corporeal entity that was once Lady Anne Darcy. The entire staff and family at Netherfield were woken by the terrified screams of that young woman. When she finally gained some sense the next morning she insisted that she would not stay one minute longer in that haunted house!

Happy was the day that Elizabeth once again walked the trails and halls of Pemberley, this time on firm feet in a fine pair of walking shoes and with her beloved Mr. Darcy by her side. And if the happy couple broke with propriety and displayed their affection openly at several key spots, they had the comfort of knowing that the only being who saw them was the one who brought them together. And Lady Anne's ghost was quite content with their display.

Almost nine months to the day of their wedding Elizabeth was delivered of the first of what would be many children. The ecstatic but exhausted couple named their daughter Anne, after her most worthy grandmother. And while the couple slept, a ghostly form kissed her grandchild's forehead and gave her her blessing. Lady Anne visited both of her children that night in their dreams and her daughter by marriage as well. She bid each a fond farewell and wished them a happy life. Then a light called her home, where her Creator and her beloved husband waited for her. Her tasks on Earth were done, and done quite well.

On a sidenote...

Though my readers may wish to hear of the appropriate comeuppance for a despised character, it is not always so. Take, for example, the story of one Caroline Bingley. Though Mr. Hurst pressed for his wife and brother-in-law to have Caroline committed due to her insistence upon having been attacked by a ghost, the two siblings could not take such a serious step. Caroline was sent to Scarborough instead, to the dark, dank home of her spinster aunt.

There Caroline Bingley, for the lack of anything better to do, took up her pen (always well mended, of course). Unexpectedly, she discovered a love of writing. Due to her experience and her current surroundings, her scribblings soon turned towards fiction of the Gothic variety, with haunted castles and ghosts in abundance. Her writing was never on the same caliber as the great authors. But when a local newspaper editor who was in need of funds, attempted to court her, he happened upon one of her works. She was furious when she learned that he had read her private writings until he began raving about her story. Within a year her first book was published.

By the end of her life, Miss Bingley (she never agreed to marry the editor, but there were several scandals around the couple) had published over thirty gothic novels. Every one had a castle or manor house and every one had at least one horrible ghost. When she learned that "racy" novels sold better, she began to "spice up" her writings. She died a very wealthy woman.

Caroline might have felt some measure of sweet revenge had she known that poor Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy had to regularly remove copies of some of her works from the hands of her youngest daughter. Thankfully the child... who was remarkably similar to Elizabeth's sister Lydia... was married young and happily before she could engage in any of the scandals presented in "Lady Dursey's" books.

AN: Although I began this story many months ago, it was iamnotfromthisplanet's new story "Memory of You" which inspired me to pick it up and finish it. So thank you for that.