Enid Wilson - My Darcy Mutates…

Darcy smiled at her jest. Do I know more virtuous souls than vile ones? Indeed I do. Will I be able to forgive Wickham? Perhaps…one day.

In the meantime, here stood a beautiful lady with sense and sensitivity, watching him with glittering eyes. She was altogether worthy of his attention. Gently, he brushed a wayward curl behind her ear and whispered, “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the honour of dancing with me again?”

“Another dance? Are you sure that you are up to such an undertaking?” She arched her brows but did not take his hand.

He nodded. “I believe so. I know, now, that you have three silly sisters.”

“And a match-making mother,” she added, and smiled.

“Well, I meet many of those in London society.” He returned her smile.

“My aunt and uncle live in Cheapside,” she cautioned, but she put her hand in his.

“The late great-grandfather of Mr. Bingley lived not far from there, as well.” He squeezed her soft hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. In accord, they walked back into the hall, chatting eagerly.

That night, although the good people of Hertfordshire did not know enough to recognize the rarity, they were treated to the genuine smile and laugh of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Miss Bingley nearly fainted upon seeing him escort Elizabeth Bennet to the floor for the third set of dances.

As for Rake Darcy, luckily for all concerned, he did not make a further appearance that night.

"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...”

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 not until the last day of October that the boundary between the living and the deceased dissolved.

“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 him 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 him in her 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 she does not, you will only create a forced marriage, one for which Miss Bennet 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 aroused by them. He had also considered taking Mr. Darcy to the other Miss Jane Bennet, but reasoned that she might still be too weak to entertain him.

By the time Churchill put Mr. Darcy down to lie besides Miss Elizabeth, he was out of breath. He 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 was no longer aroused by fair maidens, and could no longer accomplish the manly act. Otherwise, he would have loved to trifle with many of the fair maidens who had lived in Netherfield in years past.

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 her protesting to her sister that she did not like this young man 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.