Hi, Happy (almost) Spring! I'm waiting very impatiently for it here in Chicago. I'm tired of cold temps. The good thing is (I tell myself) we don't get crazy giant insects. My parents retired and moved to the south, and that's definitely NOT for me. I give roaches zero stars. Do not recommend.
Anyway, here's the next part of the scene. I hope you enjoy it. As always, I appreciate feedback. I promise this will hopefully be finished in a couple months. I want to put it up for sale by summer, anyway. Thanks for reading.
Grace
FYI: Darcy has just made a bumbling proposal to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth inhaled sharply, her fists clenching. "I thank you for the kind words, faint as they are. In times like this, it is appropriate to express an obligation to the sentiments expressed, and if I could feel gratitude, I would now thank you. But I cannot."
She was angry. She dropped the reins and stepped away from the horse.
"Mr. Darcy, I appreciate we are in strange circumstances that seem intractable and quite dire. However, I do not believe that we should make mockery of God's laws simply because of…of our bedevilment." She gestured to her body. Or his body, he thought darkly.
"Being man and wife would be a great convenience considering our misfortune, but that does not change the fact that neither of us wishes to be–-how did you kindly put it–-tethered to the other for life. I am not what you hoped for in a future wife. In fact, you said you like me despite your family, your upbringing, and your character. I do not wish to marry for convenience. If I marry, it will only be for love."
Darcy shook his head. He was feeling muddled, and she was twisting his words.
But she was not finished. "And what if somehow the spell is reversed? Will I be sent back to Hertfordshire like a mistress the king has grown tired of? What if there are children? What of marital dut-…" She stopped, blushed, and looked down. "Mr. Wickham said you were an arrogant man. I did not think it true at the time, but now…."
Upon hearing Wickham's name, he felt slapped.
"Oh, did he?" Darcy snapped, interrupting her. "You take an eager interest in that man's concerns," Darcy said so loudly the horse flattened her ears.
His tone seemed only to inflame Miss Bennet. She placed down the reins and approached Darcy, now looking down at his smaller frame.
"Yes, my opinion of you became fixed back in Meryton when Wickham told me details of your actions and character that I cannot unlearn. You have reduced him to a state of poverty and have withheld advantages you know were designed for him. You have separated my beloved sister from a man she admired. Did you not? How can I trust you enough to conceive of joining you after I learned of these reports?"
Darcy stared in awe. How had she gotten it so wrong?
"And this is your opinion of me! You, with the family who barely hold on to propriety in public? You heard me. Your scheming Mama, your obtuse father, your near-feral sisters. Not Jane, or yourself, of course. You are beyond reproach. But your sisters and mother have the manners of costermongers. Do not bother soothing the horse. I shall withdraw and not disturb either of you again. Good afternoon, Miss Bennet."
Darcy turned and stalked away, the cold, damp air hitting him in the face.
Elizabeth watched him stalk back down the hill he had come from. She quickly grabbed the reins and walked the horse in the other direction toward the stables, hot tears blurring her vision.
Blasted Darcy.
Of all the people to have exchanged corporal forms with, somehow it was with the most insulting, odious man in all of Britain! As though she might consider joining him in matrimony! Insufferable. She would not be in the same room as he from now on. He had compared her sisters to costermongers! She had to admit, under different circumstances, she might have found it amusing, but not this day. Not coming from him.
She returned the horse to the stables, refusing the stable boys' offer for help, unbridled and unsaddled the mare herself and brushed her down, a task she usually enjoyed.
He had a point, she conceded, as she vigorously brushed the horse's coat. Marriage would make their enchantment easier in many ways. And if they never broke the spell, it gave them an excuse to be close to their former families. But what if the spell was broken? Then, they were trapped together as an unhappy couple. She supposed there were compromises both could make, ways to turn a blind eye to, but she had never wished for that kind of marriage or life.
When she returned to Rosings, she was surprised to see Anne's lady's maid waiting for her at her door at Rosings.
Darcy felt miserable after the discussion with Miss Bennet. He quickly strode back to the Collin's home, sick with confusion.
How had it gone so wrong? He found himself nearly blinking back tears of frustration. He had meant to help them both, not infuriate her, but it ended so dreadfully. He could not get the image of her eyes blazing in anger at him when Wickham had been brought up. Up another hill and Collin's house came into view. He needed to pull himself together now. He stopped behind a large shrub as his breakfast came back up and onto the thawing springtime ground. Thankfully, he had missed his skirts and slippers, barely.
His heart sank further when Charlotte Collins stepped out from the house as he came upon it. "Lizzy, there you are. Someone was looking for you." Her forehead creased with worry.
Darcy tried to smooth out his expression and appear serene. He was fairly certain it was not having the effect he intended. "Who seeks me?"
At the door's threshold, Charlotte pulled him in by the elbow. "A footman from Rosings."
Darcy wondered how much worse the day might turn.
Charlotte pressed a note into his hand. "I may have an answer to your predicament. Please meet me at Rosings at 9 pm." -Anne de Bourgh
Anne de Burghe's bedchamber was much the same as it had been when she had seen it a week ago. A small fire burned in the hearth, and Anne sat, wrapped in a shawl nearby, when Elizabeth knocked. Nearby, her lady's maid poured tea. Each item was neat and in place.
"Fitzwilliam, you have come. Thank you." Anne said warmly upon seeing her and gestured for Elizabeth to sit nearby.
"Are you well?" Elizabeth asked.
Anne nodded. "Yes, thank you. Ah, I see our other guest has joined us as well."
Elizabeth saw her old self standing in Anne's doorway, dripping wet and confused. Why had Darcy gone out in the rain in that thin coat?
"I did not realize this was a mixed social call. I shall return when Miss de Burgh and I might have a private audience," he said.
"No, Miss Bennet, both of you are invited," Anne said with more authority than Elizabeth expected. "It is of particular import for both of you. Please indulge me. Miss Bennet, you are quite damp! Sullivan, fetch her a towel and a warm shawl."
"I was caught in the rain," Darcy said, wringing out a sleeve. Finally, he met Elizabeth's eyes. He seemed tired. Elizabeth wished to leave. She felt no good reason to speak to Darcy again after he insulted her family, but she noted her former physical self was shivering.
"Do take my coat," Elizabeth said, removing her superfine wool jacket. "It will be too large, but it will provide warmth."
Darcy accepted the coat, which swallowed her like a blanket, and moved closer to the warm hearth. Anne stood nearby watching.
Anne smiled at them. " I have a friend who I believe may be able to help. I have been disquieted by you, Darcy," she looked at Elizabeth, "since you have come to Rosings. Something about you seemed wrong, and I could not puzzle it out, only it felt doubly so when Miss Bennet arrived as well. As though a puzzle piece had been put into the wrong spot."
She smiled a bit. "Forgive me, cousin, but I felt as though you were not the person I had known all my life. It was quite disturbing."
Anne crossed the room. "I told you I learned healing methods during my illness. Some healing uses simple chants or incantations to invoke health. The women who taught me were kind and meant well, but they had to keep their knowledge secret so that they were not suspected of…" she paused. "...a word that is quite ill-used over the centuries. I overheard you in the library a few days ago, and–if I have concluded correctly–you are unfortunate souls caught in a spell, is that correct?"
Darcy exchanged looks with Elizabeth. Finally, Elizabeth nodded.
Darcy exhaled with irritation and stood. "So you practice witchcraft, Anne?"
She smiled serenely. "That is an old-fashioned word, Miss Bennet. I believe hedgewitch is a more accurate description of my knowledge."
"You cannot be serious," Darcy said.
Anne eyed Miss Bennet. "How much would you like to undo what may have been done to you?"
Elizabeth hung back, listening and chewing the inside of her lip. "Do you mean to say you may have knowledge to reverse the spell?"
Anne shook her head. "A hedgewitch does simple things: spells to increase rainfall for crops or speed healing or love potions. But someone who taught me may be able to help."
"This will end with us clapped in irons on a prison hulk," Darcy muttered.
Anne looked from Darcy to Elizabeth patiently. "If you are willing, a friend, Mrs. Spencer, waits in my hidden room. I called her for this reason."
Elizabeth nodded again and met Darcy's gaze. He sighed. "Very well, but I'd like it noted this does not seem like a sound idea."
Outside the window, lighting flashed. It was raining harder.
Elizabeth smiled. "It is noted."
Elizabeth followed Anne and her maid to the hidden room, while Darcy followed behind her.
They entered the warm, candle-lit room, which again smelled of tomatoes and herbs. A handsome, middle-aged, white-haired woman sat on a chair near a fire in the hearth.
"Mrs. Spencer, I would like to introduce you to my cousin, Mr. Darcy, and this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet from Hartfordshire," Anne said.
"It is very nice to meet you," Mrs. Spencer said, glancing from one to the other. She closed her eyes and inhaled briefly. "Yes, Anne, you were right. Something is incongruous here. I can feel it." She stood up and walked toward them, holding her hand palm side out as she did. "They are veiled by quite an old spell. Very murky and powerful."
"You may speak directly to us, you know. We are not specimens in a jar," Darcy said, which made Lizzy smile.
Mrs. Spencer's mouth straightened. "I am sorry, but one never knows the level of awareness of a soul caught in a spell. Some are catatonic."
"Madam, as you see, we are here and aware," Darcy said stiffly.
Mrs. Spencer met Anne's gaze, then Darcy's. "Yes, I can see that. Do tell me all about your predicament."
Cups of tea were served, and the fireplace was stoked as the four of them sat down around Anne's rustic wooden table. Elizabeth began telling of finding the book of incantations in Netherfield's library.
Mrs. Spencer seemed quite pleased to learn the details.
"So," she looked at Darcy, "You are Miss Bennet. And you," she turned to look at Elizabeth, "You are Mr. Darcy. How interesting. Quite a spell! Very original!"
"It is less entertaining to us. We must be sure no one knows of this," Darcy grumbled. "Our lives and our family's lives depend upon it. You must give us the promise of discretion."
Mrs. Spencer smiled mildly. "Of course, Miss. But be aware there is a cost."
Darcy's face hardened, but he smiled coolly. "I expected as much. What is your price? Outlandish, I suppose."
Mrs. Spencer smiled and looked at Anne. "No, the cost is not to me. But for you. Both of you." She took a sip of tea. "Magic, witchcraft, spells: these are all words for laws man does not yet understand. But the effect is the same. One action causes something else. The clouds darken, and the skies open up, and rain comes down upon us."
As if on cue, a faraway clap of thunder sounded in the distance. Mrs. Spencer grinned. "There she is."
"There, who is?" Darcy asked, peevish.
"She. Life. Everything." Mrs. Spencer seemed delighted to hear the storm outside.
Elizabeth leaned in. "What does it mean it will cost us?"
"Such a bonny face," Mrs. Spencer mused. "If only that were how the wheel of fortune worked. To have magic, something must be given up. Not like what they thought in olden times: goat or a virgin. But power costs power. If you wish for a change, there must be a change. It has always been the rule of the cosmos."
Anne sat, holding her steaming cup of tea in front of her. "Perhaps they are not ready to hear this, Mrs. Spencer."
Mrs Spencer pursed her lips. "They are ready. The magic came to them, after all, for a reason."
"So this may be reversed?"
Mrs. Spencer nodded. "If all goes well."
Darcy's eyebrows drew together. "What does that mean?"
More thunder rolled outside.
"If it is agreeable, the spell will work."
Mrs. Spencer picked up the book and examined it, looking at the front and back and paging through some of its contents.
"Your book contains spells created by someone with a strong mastery of alchemy. Probably a long time ago. 'Tis not straightforward. But spells usually find people for a reason. Perhaps there is something you needed to learn from the other." Mrs. Spencer looked from Elizabeth to Darcy, who harumphed and crossed his arms.
"Nonsense," he muttered.
"Cousin, you need not believe in the sun for it to rise every morning," Anne said quietly.
Elizabeth stood and walked to where Anne's cat lay asleep on a chair, stopping to stroke it. "It doesn't matter what we believe. We need to do what they tell us to reverse this, Darcy."
"We will need to do it soon, before the house wakes up," Anne said.
"Anne, dear, best to fetch the alchemy salt and sliced lemons and light the candles."