A.N. Here is the second Naughty Bits for today. Happy reading and remember to review. Thank you and stay safe! Cheers Enid, from hot Sydney.
When the dead interfere
What if Netherfield Park was haunted? - Regency
"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..."
~~what-ifs~~what-ifs~~what-ifs~~
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 the last day of October that the boundary between the living and the deceased dissolved.
~~what-ifs~~what-ifs~~what-ifs~~
"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 Mr. Darcy 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 Mr. Darcy in Miss Elizabeth's 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 Miss Elizabeth does not, you will only create a forced marriage, one for which the young lady 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 interested in them. He had also considered taking Mr. Darcy to Miss Jane Bennet, but reasoned that she might still be too ill to entertain him.
By the time Churchill put Mr. Darcy down to lie besides Miss Elizabeth, he was out of breath. Churchill 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 could no longer accomplish the manly act. Otherwise, he would have loved to trifle with many of the fair maidens who lived in Netherfield now.
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 Elizabeth protesting to her sister that she did not like this Darcy fellow 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 Churchill 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. Churchill 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.
~~what-ifs~~what-ifs~~what-ifs~~
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 bed chamber 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. Darcy's lust 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 on her. She smells wonderful! A mixture of rose, lavender and maiden sweat! What a vision! Finally, I can devour her as I like.
"What… are you doing here?" Elizabeth said, wearing 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."
"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."
Mr. Darcy lowered his mouth and nibbled her upper lip until she was left breathless. "I apologize," he murmured at last. "I had not the heart to socialise when I first arrived in Hertfordshire. My sister had not yet fully recovered from a disheartening experience during the summer. I was preoccupied and worried about her. But I had not had the heart to refuse Bingley's invitation either, as he has been such a good friend to me. I had not even looked at you properly when I said those words. Not long thereafter, I realised that I found your form light and pleasing, your wit challenging, and your attitude altogether refreshing." He rubbed his body against her and said, "You see? I am all hot now. I find you more than tempting. And I am no scoundrel. I have not trifled with any maiden before. I swear. You were my wife when you laid with me in the dreams."
He saw her face turn bright red, and her breathing became shallow. "Your wife? Then your intentions are honourable? You do not look down upon the society of Meryton? The reason you did not speak to us was not because you considered us confined and unvarying?"
He pressed his fingertips against her neck, feeling the fast pulsation of her blood. He did not feel called upon to explain himself. This was a dream, was it not? He would much rather enjoy her heavenly body. However, ever the true gentleman, he replied, "Pemberley is situated in the country, too. I love the country better than town. I am just not very good at conversing with strangers." He then remembered her words of the other day. His hands stopped and he asked uncertainly, "Do you indeed find me vain and prideful?"
"You slighted me at our first meeting. You did not talk to people at our gatherings. I fear I drew an unfortunate conclusion."
But her tactful wording did not suffice. Mr. Darcy was so disappointed that he sat up and, with difficulty, untied her. "I thought you welcomed me. You defended me to your mother. You challenged my thinking at every turn. I thought that was your way to make me aware of you and flirt with me. You attracted me more than I liked. I even decided that no sign of admiration should escape me, nothing that could elevate you with the hope of influencing my felicity. How very wrong I am!"
Freed, Elizabeth sat up as well. She pulled the bed sheet up to cover herself. "I am truly confused. You did not want me to have hope in you, and yet in your dream, you made me your wife."
Mr. Darcy stood up and paced the room, then stopped suddenly before her and, without warning, poured his heart out. "What could I do? In vain I have struggled. My feelings will not be repressed. I admire and love you ardently. But could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own? And the situation of your mother's family, though objectionable, is nothing in comparison to that total want of propriety so frequently, so almost uniformly betrayed by herself and by your three younger sisters."
Stung, Elizabeth stood up, hands on her hips, and replied, "I find your address both offending and insulting. I have never desired your good opinion, and you have certainly bestowed it most unwillingly. From the very beginning, from the first moment, I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your …"
"Stop!" The sudden sound of an elderly woman's voice made Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth whirl around in surprise. They stiffened at the sight of an elderly couple sitting on the bed they had so recently vacated.
"Who are you?" Mr. Darcy said.
"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked.
"I am Mrs. Emma Knightley, and this is my husband, George." The elderly woman turned slightly as she introduced the elderly man. When her body moved, the moonlight seemed to dim. Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth's eyes widened on seeing that the bodies of their strange visitors were almost transparent. Indeed, they could see through the elderly couple to the other side of the room.
Elizabeth gasped, then threw herself against Mr. Darcy. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she cried out in alarm, "Is this still a dream? Are they ghosts?"
"I warned you, Emma, that you would scare them to death!" Mr. Knightley said.
"Do not be afraid, Miss Elizabeth. We are good ghosts, and this is not a dream. It is Samhain*, the time when we can appear in the living world. I know that Mr. Darcy truly loves you. I only wanted him to admit to wanting you as his wife, and to see the two of you happily together."
Mr. Darcy was shaken, as well. He wrapped his arms protectively around Elizabeth and pulled her as tightly against him as possible. But, as a man, he vowed to be brave. "Mrs. Knightley," he said, firmly addressing the lady ghost, "I do not appreciate your interference. I am an adult, and I know what is best for myself. As it happens, your actions did not help. Miss Bennet found my admiration…wanting."
"Bah! She found your address wanting. Young man, you cannot tell a woman that you love her, in one breath, and then insult her family, in another next. You will be marrying her, not her family. Your aunt Lady Catherine de Bourgh is as objectionable, in her way, as any of the Bennet ladies. You should be ashamed of yourself. And did you think clearly about your own character? Your ten thousand a year cannot tempt this girl to marry you. You will need to mend your arrogant ways and truly cherish her. Now, take this frightened young girl to bed and do your manly best to please her."
"Emma!" Mr. Knightley chastised his wife.
"What? This young man has certainly thought about ravishing her often enough. Why should I pretend that he has had no such thoughts, now that Miss Bennet is in his arms and the doors cannot be opened?"
At that, Mr. Darcy released Elizabeth just long enough to check on the door to the corridor. The lock was twisted, as if it had been smashed by a hammer. He pulled at it a few times, but it would not move at all. He then walked to the door that opened to the servants' entrance. It was in a similar state.
"What kind of ghosts are you? You brought me here, bound Miss Bennet, and made the locks unworkable, all in the name of matchmaking. Have you no shame? I demand that you fix the doors immediately."
Mr. Knightley defended his wife, "Emma did not transport you here, nor did we bind Miss Elizabeth or damage the locks. It was all Frank Churchill's doing. He is a spineless ghost who enjoys playing twisted jokes on the living. And, although I am sorry to disappoint you, we do not possess the magical power to undo what he has done."
Elizabeth gasped in distress. "Oh, please! You can pass through walls. Can you not take Mr. Darcy to his bedroom that way? He cannot be found in here in the morning!" she pleaded.
"We are ghosts, and so we can indeed go through walls. But Mr. Darcy is alive. He cannot. Do you want me to kill him and shove his body out of the window, all so that your reputation can remain unsullied?" Emma asked, baring her teeth.
"No!" cried Elizabeth and Knightley together.
Elizabeth ran back to Darcy and held onto him tightly. "Mr. Darcy is a good brother and a good friend. And he has many tenants who depend upon him. I would not have such a man harmed simply to protect my reputation." Elizabeth said indignantly from within the sheltering curve of his arm.
Emma adopted a menacing countenance. "But you do not like him. He has seen you in almost your full glory. How can you marry another? Is it not better that he be dead?"
"No," Elizabeth objected staunchly. "I was only prejudiced against him in the past, disappointed that such a handsome and eligible man found me lacking. Now that I know his true feelings, if he can bear with my family, I would be most happy to accept him."
Emma clapped her hands. "Excellent! And what do you say, young man?"
Mr. Darcy held tight to Elizabeth, also fearing for his life, as there was no telling how a ghost might act. "Elizabeth, I apologize for looking down on your relations. I would be most honoured if you would consent to be my wife."
She nodded and whispered, "It will be my honour!"
"Marvellous!" Emma cheered. "Now, young man, take her to bed and start making babes. I promise that we will not peek. I shall even keep Jane and Frank Churchill away. But I will not leave entirely until I hear her maidenly cries of ecstasy," Emma declared, then disappeared in a puff of white.
Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth turned bright red.
Mr. Knightley cleared his throat. "I am sorry, Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth. You need not do as Emma said. I shall try to keep her out of here. Either way, it is almost dawn. She and I will need to return to the land of darkness soon." With that, Mr. Knightley bowed and disappeared, as well.
At that, Elizabeth fainted. Had she not swooned and required his strong arms, Mr. Darcy thought that he himself might well have fainted from fear, as well.
Rallying, he swept her up in his arms and placed her on the bed. Going to the wash stand, he dampened a cloth, then returned to the bedside to press it to her forehead and throat, his hands shaking.
Words rose, unbidden, to his lips and spilled forth, baring his deepest thoughts and feelings. "Elizabeth, I love you. Please do not fall ill from the shock of this night. I shall truly honour my promise to marry and cherish you. I shall learn to bear with your relations. Mrs. Knightley, though overbearing, was right. I have been a selfish being, all my life. As a child, I was taught to care for none beyond my own family circle, and to think lowly of all the rest of the world. Such I was, from eight to eight-and-twenty; and such I might still be but for you, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! What do I not owe you! You have taught me a lesson, one that was hard indeed, at first, but one that is most advantageous. Please wake up, Elizabeth, and say again that you will be mine."
Elizabeth's eyes slowly opened. She had heard his entire whole-hearted declaration, and she now reached up to caress his face with the gentlest of hands.
"Mr. Darcy, you must forgive me, as well. I was blinded by prejudice about your character and behaviour only because you slighted me. I took every chance I could to challenge you, in an attempt to show you that I was superior to the elegant ladies you had known. I was vain and prideful, as well. I did not know my own mind. I feel honoured and gratified that you love me…but I will not hold you to your promise. After all, it was only made under threat from the ghosts."
Mr. Darcy held her face and spoke with passionate regard. "Not so. My wishes and affection are unchanged. Elizabeth, marry me!"
She returned his gaze and replied, in a firm, clear voice, "It is my honour, Mr. Darcy."
He lowered his head and gave her a passionate kiss…which led to another. And another. What better way was there to drive away fear with this, the most pleasant of pursuits?
When the sun finally rose above the horizon, the ghosts returned to their world. While Elizabeth called for help to smash open the doors to her bed chamber, Mr. Darcy hid in the dressing room, and later returned to his room with no one the wiser concerning his nocturnal adventures.
But when he and Mr. Bingley accompanied the Miss Bennets back to Longbourn, he lost no time in asking for permission to marry Miss Elizabeth.
They were wed two months later, in a double ceremony with Bingley and Jane. During the weeks of their engagement, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth grew to know each other much better, and found that they were fine complements to each other, both in temperament and in their views about the world.
There was, however, a sad incident that resulted from Bingley's stay at Netherfield. It seemed that Miss Bingley had witnessed two ugly, elderly ghosts named Jane and Frank Churchill in a brawl in her bed chamber during the last night of October. She was frightened nearly to death, and fled to seek her sister Louisa's help. After that, she refused to sleep alone, demanding that Louisa stay by her side. Bingley cancelled the lease on Netherfield after his marriage and moved to an estate in Derbyshire, while Miss Bingley lived with her sister ever after.
As for Emma Knightley, although she did not cause Miss Bingley's fright, she received a thorough chiding from her husband. Mr. Knightley took her back to Hartfield, while Jane and Frank Churchill continued to haunt Netherfield Park.
A few years later, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth named their second daughter Emma, in honour of the overbearing ghost who had so successfully brought along their earlier understanding.
* Samhain, a festival in Celtic cultures, has some elements of a festival of the dead.