Author's Note: Once upon a time, Randall Garrett wrote a series of fantasy-mysteries about a handsome detective called Lord Darcy. This is a retelling of "Pride and Prejudice", set in Jane Austen's timeframe, but in Randall Garrett's universe (explained at some length in the story itself). Thaumaturgy means 'wonder-working', and is the technical term for magic in this universe.
Chapter 1
Posted on Tuesday, 30 June 1998
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in need of a talisman to drive away gold-diggers. So Lord Darcy firmly believed. His friend Bingley had leased Netherfield Hall, in a district heavily infested with charming young women. Since no magician had invented such a talisman as Darcy desired for his friend, Darcy was forced to be that talisman, and came to Netherfield, steeled for boredom.
The lease on Netherfield Hall caused little boredom in other quarters. "Netherfield Hall is let at last!" Mrs. Bennet exulted. She had begun to despair of marrying off her five daughters.
Her husband only sighed. "Better study up on those love-spells, Lizzy," he said to his favorite daughter, the only one in the family with any magical talent to speak of. "Jane is so modest that she will never catch a husband by ordinary means."
"I'm afraid those spells are well beyond my power," said Eliza. "Besides, anyone would fall in love with Jane, who is so kind and beautiful. I'd be more worried about myself."
"It is extremely fortunate," her younger sister Mary began, "that King Richard the Lionhearted did not die of that arrow wound inflicted upon him at the battle of --"
"What has that to do with anything?" asked Lydia scornfully. She was the youngest sister.
"He did not die of that infected wound," Mary continued doggedly, " and rose from his sickbed a more responsible king. After many years of able rule, he was succeeded by his nephew, Arthur the Good. It was under Arthur's patronage that the Church made a startling discovery: the phenomena known as magic was caused by certain abilities in the human mind, abilities which could be disciplined and enhanced. The Anglo-Norman empire, and the Plantagenets who rule it, have never looked back."
"What has that to do with anything?" Kitty repeated scornfully. Although a year or so older than Lydia, she imitated the latter in everything. Mary was taken aback at her question. Her lectures were always meant as informative, rather than relevant.
"Come along, girls," their mother bleated. "You must prepare for dinner - even if our only guest tonight is your father's insufferable cousin."
Eliza chuckled. "We can hardly determine the exact degree of Mr. Wyckham-Collins' 'insufferability', since we have never met him before."
"The roof over our heads is entailed away to that MONSTER!" Mrs. Bennet bawled. "That alone makes him utterly insufferable!" The girls scurried off to prepare.
Chapter 2
Posted on Wednesday, 1 July 1998
Mr. Wyckham-Collins proved, in defiance of Mrs. Bennet's fondest expectations, to be a very amiable man. He would have been reckoned a handsome man, if one did not tend to forget his face the moment it left one's sight. His easy address and assiduous charm compensated for this flaw. It was the more the more astonishing, because he was reckoned a capable physician, well-versed in all the healing spells. As everyone knows, the more skilled the doctor, the more noxious his personality proves.
"The family has been invited to a ball at Netherfield, given by the new occupants," Mr. Bennet said to his cousin when dinner had ended. "If you have any taste for such idiocy, you are welcome to go as well."
"I would be honored," said Mr. Wyckham-Collins. "But who, pray, are these occupants?"
"The party consists of Mr. Charles Bingley, Miss Caroline Bingley, and Lord Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you need further information, my wife or her sister will supply you with much more than you need." On hearing this, Wyckham-Collins turned to Eliza, seated at his left. His face seemed slightly troubled.
"I do not know the Bingleys, but I know Darcy entirely too well.
He almost ruined my career out of sheer malice."
"You do not seem like the sort who could inspire malice," Eliza replied.
"It was due to his arrogance." said her companion. "I am physician to Lady Catherine De Bourgh, his aunt. Once he and his sister Georgiana - who is his ward, since they are both orphans - came to visit Lady Catherine. Georgiana and I fell in love. It was foolish of us, but it was natural, not caused by any magic. Our behavior was strictly honorable and open, but the grand Mr. Darcy did not see it that way. He accused me of casting a spell upon Georgiana and attempting to seduce her. I would have been disbarred from the medical profession if Lady Catherine had not prevented it."
"I'm rather surprised that she believed you rather than her own nephew."
"Oh, she is a kind-hearted woman who says that Darcy is right to be so protective of Georgiana, but was mistaken in suspecting me. She has her share of the family pride as well; I doubt that she approved of my connection with her niece."
"I would not blame you if you did not come to Netherfield, with such bad blood between you and Lord Darcy. They say his magical powers are impressive."
"No more so than mine. I have nothing to fear from him. He may run from Netherfield, but I intend to stand my ground."
Chapter 3
Posted on Saturday, 4 July 1998
Nothing could have begun more delightfully than the Netherfield ball - nothing could have ended worse. Bingley seemed to be quite taken with Jane, and she with him. They might have been made for each other. Mr. Wyckham-Collins proved to be a very good dancer, providing Eliza with a partner for the first three dances. The mysterious Lord Darcy had gone, only Bingley knew where. He was expected later in the evening. Between the third and the fourth dances came the Apocalypse.
Lizzie was chatting with Charles Bingley, when Lydia came up and asked him if he would like to see a "magic show".
"Lydia, I know you're talented, but you really haven't had the training or the discipline for this sort of thing. Besides, I'm sure Mr. Bingley isn't interested.
Unfortunately, he was. "None of my family have 'the talent'," he said as his sister flinched. "I'd be delighted to see a demonstration."
Lydia drew a long silvery wand, decorated with Egyptian symbols in the latest fashion from Paris. She pointed it at a lit candelabra on the table next to them and muttered a few words. The tiny flames went out. Lizzie held her breath. The next part usually ended with Lydia setting the table on fire. Lydia came closer to the table, still muttering. Suddenly, a green fireball exploded in front of her. It lit the candles. And Lydia's dress. And Lydia's hair. Lydia dropped her wand and started shrieking hysterically.
Quite a crowd was gathering around them by this time. Lizzie could see Wyckham-Collins on the edge of it. At the front, next to Bingley, she could see three strangers. She was only vaguely aware of them as a tall sardonic-looking man, a petit blonde girl, and a regal old woman. Lizzie was too busy drawing her own wand to pay much attention to them. She muttered a few words and the fire went out, leaving the candles lit.
Bingley turned and saw the strangers. "Lord Darcy, Lady Catherine DeBourgh, Miss Darcy, may I present Miss Eliza Darcy and Miss Lydia Darcy," he said genially...
Chapter 4
Posted on Friday, 17 July 1998
Georgiana greeted the Bennet girls with shy friendliness. "I don't know very much about magic," she said softly. "But that can't have been easy to arrange." She wasn't being sarcastic, she honestly thought that the whole incident had been cleverly arranged for the entertainment value by these nice young wizardesses. Naive? If so, thought Lizzie, naivete ought to be prized above rubies.
"Charles," Darcy spoke for the first time. "I understand that you have formed an acquaintance with the charming Miss Jane Bennet. Would you be so good as to introduce her to Georgiana and Lady Catherine?" Bingley assented. His manner in doing so resembled that of an enthusaistic retriever, sent to fetch a stick by his master. The women, including Lydia, trailed after him. Lizzie was quick to note that Darcy had sent them off in the opposite direction from where Mr. Wickham-Collins stood. Lord Darcy might be arrogant and insensitive, but he was shrewd, even subtle. Lizzie noted with pleasure that Wyckham-Collins was slipping through the crowds to Georgiana, who he had described as his lost love.
"I must apologize for Lydia's conduct," Lizzie said with as much gaiety as she could muster. "She's one of those amateurs who believe that Rome WAS built in a day, and that thaumaturgy is a matter of genius, not practice."
"She's better than most," Darcy said coolly. "The worst sort of magician, amateur or professional, is the powermonger. The one who wants to forge himself a ring of domination over others, like that of the Nibelungen. That ilk always seems to forget that the ring-wearer ends as a dragon, slain by the inevitable nature-loving Siegfried." Lizzie permitted herself a smile. Witty, as well as shrewd. Really, it was too bad that his lofty pride, not here much in evidence, was so well-documented.
Lizzie glanced over at Bingley's group. Wyckham-Collins had managed to insinuate himself into the group, and was now talking to Georgiana. Far from appearing pleased, the young girl seemed confused and frightened. Darcy followed Lizzie's gaze. When he saw Wyckham-Collins, his face darkened....
Chapter 5
Darcy strode off towards the little group which now included most of the Bennet family, Georgiana and Mr. Wyckham-Collins. Fearing the worst, Lizzie walked at his side.
"Why, hello Milord" Mrs. Bennet cooed. "May I present to you my husband's cousin, Mr. Wyckham-Collins?"
"I am afraid that that would be unnecessary, Madam. I have encountered Mr. Wyckham-Collins before." Lord Darcy retorted.
Georgiana looked pale and frightened.
"May I have the pleasure of this next set?' Wyckham-Collins said to Lydia. Clearly he wanted to get out of this fix as quickly as possible. Well, what did you think was going to happen? thought Lizzie. Her cousin certainly lacked courage. "Aye, dance with him, Lydia," she said teasingly. "Deliver the poor prince Wyckham-Charming from the dragon's lair, and you may wed him." Lydia giggled. Wyckham-Collins glared. The two went off together, arm-in-arm.
Georgiana looked shocked. "Please, Miss Bennet! My brother's not really like a dragon - he's the kindest and the best of men!"
Lizzie smiled. "I must take your word for it - since they are not his most obvious qualities. Still you must allow that he is quite fierce." The subject of the exchange listened with a combination of amusement and annoyance.
"It's about time for us to go, Georgiana." he said. They took their leave and departed.
Chapter 6
The days following the Netherfield ball sped by quickly and pleasantly. Wyckham-Collins spent most of his time with Lydia, Jane Bennet and Charles Bingley spent as much time together as they could politely manage. Even Lord Darcy approved of Jane, after a fashion.
"She smiles too much," he said to Charles.
"Really Darcy! That doesn't make her a gold-digger!"
"Indeed, she is not, Bingley, and I give you leave to like her as much as you please."
"And you have mine to like Miss Elizabeth." Charles returned. "You spend much time in her company."
Indeed, the two greatest magicians in the town were often together. At first by chance, since his friend was enamoured of her sister. Then by choice.
"Indeed, my lord, you are very gallant today for one whose habit is to hate everyone."
"And you are very gracious, for one whose habit is ridicule all. What have I done to merit your approval, Miss Elizabeth?"
"You have remembered to ask after the health of all my relations, and have not once insulted the countryside."
"Such pleasant company makes me lax in adhering to my usual standards."
Lydia came dashing up the hill where the two walked. She called out to them. "Lizzie, Milord! Have you heard? Wyckham-Collins and I are to be married."
Darcy's face was never pleasant when he 'encountered' Wyckham-Collins, or heard him spoken of. Now he seemed angry, relieved, disappointed all at once...
Chapter 7
Lizzie was not slow to notice Darcy's reaction. As soon as Lydia left, she asked him about it.
"Is something the matter?"
"Miss Bennet, it would not be advisable for your sister to marry that man."
"Because you still believe he had designs on YOUR sister, my lord?"
He favored her with a long, hard stare. "So you believe his account of that affair?"
"Not exactly. I presume Mr. Wyckham-Collins and Georgiana were briefly and innocently infatuated with other. He has completely got over it , she - understandably - is a little embarrassed by the subject."
"I see. There is something, then, which I must tell you in the strictest confidence. It may be necessary for you to tell Miss Jane Bennet or your father something of the matter, but no more than necessary."
"You may rely on their discretion as on mine, sir."
"Mr. Wyckham-Collins has, 'sans doute', accused me to you of slandering him. He has told you that I have falsely accused him of using aphrodisiac spells against Georgiana with intent to seduce her or elope with her, in the hopes of gaining control of her fortune. All that he says of me is true, save for one detail: my accusation was true, backed with proof."
"What kind of proof? Are you one of the dozen mages in England who can detect and counteract an aphrodisiac as powerful as all that?" Actually, Lizzie rather suspected that he was, but her mind had rebelled at the idea that her charming cousin could do something so base, so utterly against the code of physician and mage.
"I am a mage of that grade," Darcy retorted, his famous pride on full display. "There are few better in England." He raised his hand and a mist more silver than grey sprung up around them abruptly. Lizzie recognized it and was flattered. It was a harmless display, used by mages of Darcy's rank as a means of presenting one's thaumaturgical credentials to equals and near-equals.
"I must think on this a little, sir. This information comes as a most unwelcome surprise." Darcy softened a little, and took his leave. He strolled away, wrapped in mist...
Chapter 8
As soon as she was home and alone with Jane, Lizzie told her sister of what Lord Darcy had said.
"It is surely impossible that our cousin could do such a thing," said Jane. "Yet why would Lord Darcy fabricate such a story - and about his sister, who is so dear to him? Surely there must be some mistake."
"Only on your part, dear Jane." Lizzie replied. "If you think that you can exonerate them both. There is just barely enough goodness between two of them to - possibly - make one decentish sort of man."
The two sisters discussed the subject from sundown to nearly sunrise, yet could find no virtue in their cousin sufficient to exonerate him - unless, indeed, social grace and a fascination with silly women might count as such. Ultimately, Lizzie resolved to tell her father of what she had learned, hoping to leave Georgiana out of it if possible. He seemed less than shocked when she informed him.
"I have forever been plagued with fools and knaves for kin," he said. "Excepting you and Jane, of course. My cousin is only disappointing in being so spectacular a specimen of fool and knave."
"So you will not let him marry Lydia, Father?"
"I see no reason to bind this pest any closer to my family than necessary."
"Oh, Mr. Beh-neht!" The voice of his wife pierced the thick walls of his study. Lizzie's father looked at her wryly.
"Though perhaps it would serve him right," he added.
"Could we avoid exposing him to public disgrace? He is family, after all."
"Of course, my dear. I shall simply exercise my prerogative as a father and an eccentric and forbid him to marry Lydia. No reason given, no reason necessary." As matters turned out, this had the opposite of the desired effect. Lydia and Wyckham-Collins eloped to Scotland and were married before the week was out. Before two weeks were out, they had moved back into Longbourn.
Lizzie was happy to have her sister back where she could see her and at least try to keep her out of trouble. She was a little surprised at her father's nonchalance.
"My son-in-law is quite amusing," Mr. Bennet said. "He smirks, simpers, and all but polishes my shoes with his tongue. Better still, the worst of his faults are not widely known - thanks to your counsel, Lizzie. Besides, the world will think none the worse of you and Jane for having a silly brother as well as three very foolish sisters."
No, thought Lizzie, but Lord Darcy might. Bingley might not, but he would be guided by his friend.
Her worst fears were not actually realized. Bingley showed up the next day and orbited Jane as constantly as the moon does the earth. He said, with some embarrassment, that Lord Darcy was not able to come. If that lofty mage chose to sever his ties with the Bennet family, Charles Bingley did not. Indeed, he proposed to Jane within a fortnight.
"That INSUFFERABLE Lord Darcy is your friend, so I suppose will come to the wedding." observed Mrs. Bennet, upon learning that Bingley was to be her next son-in-law.
"I'm afraid that he will not," Charles replied. His affable face tightened.
"Then perhaps you and Jane will call on him at Pemberley. I hear it is a fine estate."
"Indeed, Madam, all communication between my family and his is at an end. I would give anything to change that." Then Bingley looked at Jane. "Well, almost anything," he added. This exchange told Lizzie enough. Darcy wanted nothing to do with the man who had treated his sister so. To avoid contact with Wyckham-Collins, he would abandon his closest friend - indeed, his only friend by some accounts. She was the more surprised to receive a letter the next day, with the Darcy seal on one side of the envelope and Milord's fine, austere handwriting on the other...
Chapter 9
"Miss Bennet," the letter began, "What I have to tell you is not easy to put into words, yet it would not be just to leave it unsaid. By the time you receive this letter, you will doubtlessly decided that I have broken with your family on account of Mr. Wyckham-Collins's closer connection with it, and that, likewise, I have broken with Mr. Bingley because of his continued attachment to your sister and hence to your family. This much is true, but if you think that I did so with ease or enthusiasm, you are mistaken. It is no light matter to balance love for a friend such as Bingley against love for a sister. Yet still, I think it my duty to Georgiana to make her enemy my enemy, and to avoid the household and close kin of that enemy. You may think that because of his marriage that enemy can no longer harm her. My instincts tell me otherwise. This is not meant as a slur against your family; most of them are foolish and ill-mannered, but hardly criminal or immoral. Next to Wyckham-Collins, they are prime candidates for canonization. And of course, you and your elder sister are far as above them as they are above him. Bingley could hardly do better than to marry her. Though I will have nothing to do with any in-law of Georgiana's foe, I can only approve his choice and his courage in making it, in the teeth of my hostility towards your brother-in-law. And what can I say of you? In spite of your family, in spite of our difference in station, I would have married you. Yes, there is I think no harm in telling this: you should know this much, though nothing will come of it now. Nothing can come of it now. Still, you should know that I never met a mind I fancied my equal, nor a woman I could love, until I met you.
"Adieu, it is then, and adieu forever,
"Fitzwilliam Darcy"
Chapter 10
Lizzie read the letter for the first time, in a state rather far beyond fury. She read it again, calm enough to recognize the compliment implied in its existence. Her good opinion meant enough to him that he would try to justify himself - however belatedly - to her. She recognized the compliment, but did not accept it. Every word which praised her or Jane or even Bingley was accompanied by some sneer or censure of her other relations. Of the bizarre profession with which he closed his letter, she hardly thought at all. She did not quite believe in it. His insolence in criticizing her family - his cowardice in running away to a safe distance before doing so -
"Lizzie? Are you here?" Lizzie just had time to put the letter away as her father entered the room with untypical haste.
"Father? What's the matter?"
"I am an exile, my dear. My son-in-law decided that MY library would be the ideal place to teach his bride some magical exercises. Extremely noisy exercises. In levitation. Can't you do anything about it?"
"How? If you've had no luck with them..."
"I meant magically, Lizzie."
"Well, let's see...I could transport them a thousand leagues about without their consent, turn them both into rabbits or fry them to a crisp. The first two involve breaking the solemn oath which every mage swears, to harass and harm no one. The third requires a level of black or diabolic magic, to which not even my noble brother-in-law would stoop."
"But can't the oath be set aside? In case of an emergency?"
"'In case of immediate and dire threat to soul or body' - or so the phrase goes. Sadly, this does not qualify. Unless I can prove that he is actually up to serious mischief, I can no more use magic on him than I could use a firearm." She realized, abruptly, how often Darcy must have said something similar to himself since his reacquaintance with Wyckham-Collins at the Netherfield ball.
Mr. Bennet grimaced. "I think I shall hint, with the delicacy of an elephant, to the young love-birds that they had best move back to his own practice by Rosings Park."
Lizzie started a little at this reminder of Wyckham-Collins's friendship with Lord Darcy's aunt. She wondered if he would treat his aunt as abominably as he had treated Bingley and the Bennets. At the same time, the idea of the Wyckham-Collinses going away made her uneasy. Whether it was Darcy's suspicions, or the mention of black magic, she wasn't sure...maybe it was the idea of her unscrupulous cousin training the impulsive Lydia in the magical arts...
Her brother-in-law elected to stay at Longbourn until he could welcome Mr. Bingley into the family. Mr. Bingle felt that he could have been dispensed with in this capacity, but did not say so. Mr. Bennet felt the same, and said so. His opinions, alas, were too subtle for Lydia to understand or her husband to acknowledge.
In any case, Jane Bennet became Jane Bingley in a beautiful wedding three months later. This wedding was truly unique not only in being the most expensive and most tasteful (in spite of certain dubious guests and relations), but in being the only true love-match made in a hundred mile radius. Lizzie was the maid of honor, and the mage in charge of fireworks. She received many compliments in both capacities. The Wyckham-Collinses stayed exactly long enough to partake fulsomely of the dinner afterwards, then departed for their own home.
The Bingleys set out on their honeymoon. Over her protests and those of her father, they left Lizzy in charge of Netherfield, along with Bingley's widowed sister Mrs. Hurst. The arrangement had its advantages and drawbacks, from Lizzie's point of view. On the one hand, the place was quiet with a well-furnished library, and she had the Bingleys' permission to practice her magic there. On the other hand, her main companion was Mrs. Hurst, a proud silent woman who was dreadfully afraid of magic.
Nothing of any significance happened until the week before Jane and Charles were expected back. Lizzie was at one of the upper windows. She stared down at the distant road, bringing it into focus with a simple spell called Farsight. A horse was dashing towards Netherfield, covered in lather. It and its rider were nearing exhaustion. The rider seemed somehow familiar...Lizzie brought him into tight focus. That lean, dark face could only belong to Lord Darcy....
Chapter 11
Lizzie was at the front door in about half the time it took the rider to reach the doorstep. Darcy or no, the situation had all the earmarks of an emergency, except of course that neither her mother nor her younger sisters were involved. She let the servant open the door and let him in.
"Milord, you must be exhausted," she said in as a gracious a tone as she could muster. Which is to say, not very. "Mr. Bingley is not here at present -" When she saw his face, she stopped. Yes, it was in fact Darcy, but his face was pale beneath its tan coloring, drawn and careworn. Exhaustion was a trifle next to whatever was troubling his soul.
"Much as I would like to see Charles again," his words rolled out in a lung-wrenching gasp, "It is you I was seeking. Not" he added "that I expected to find you here, but that Charles might be able to intercede to you on my behalf."
"What about?"
"I have no right to expect you to help me, but there is no one else who can," he answered, then broke into a fit of coughing.
"Not another word," Lizzie said, "Not until you are warm and comfortable." She led him into the parlour, to a seat by the fire. "Better?" she asked.
"Much."
"Then pray continue."
He stared into the fire for a moment. "I hardly know where to begin. Perhaps with an apology. Miss Bennet, when I wrote to you I'm afraid I implied that my own family was superior to yours in character as well as in station. It was wrong of me to claim that."
"These sentiments do you credit, Milord, but I doubt that you risked your health and your horse to come here and tell me so."
"No, you are right in that." He turned to look at her. "I came here seeking your help, because Georgiana is missing. I have reason to believe that Lady Catherine and the Wyckham-Collinses are responsible...."
Chapter 12
It took a rare situation to render Lizzie speechless. This one succeeded though. Stunned, she let Darcy continue.
"Georgiana and I returned to Pemberley, where we received Lady Catherine De Bough. I had to leave, in the middle of her visit on to take care of some urgent business." Lizzie smiled in spite of herself.
"Business which would not have been so urgent, had your tedious aunt not been visiting?" She asked playfully. She hoped to cheer him a little with her raillery. Or at least wound his pride and take his mind off his real troubles. Instead, he looked guilty.
"Yes, that is so," he said. "I do not blame you for reproaching me, considering how I have behaved to you in the past. And your reproach is shrewd; it shows your famous good sense." He sighed. "I will have much need of your sense and your magic."
"I'm sorry, continue with your story."
"When I returned, I found Lady Catherine and Georgiana gone, and an aura of dark magic all over Pemberley. The servants in an enchanted sleep. My enquiries in Lambton turned up this" he handed Lizzie a slender rod. As she took it, she felt a tingling in her hand - the hallmark of Lydia's erratically used, poorly mastered wand. Yet it did not look like Lydia's wand. Snakes wrought in brass writhed across it, and a pentagram was set in each tip. Lizzie shuddered and dropped.
"Lydia - practicing the black arts - no!" Darcy watched her with quiet sadness. "My opinion means little enough to you, I know. But it should be said, I think, that your sister would never have turned to such a subject except under the guidance of her husband. Even now, she probably considers the whole thing a joke."
"So instead of being a villain, my sister is simply a spectacular fool." The sentence ended with a half-sob. "Don't look so downcast, Milord, you are but the bearer of bad news. One question you have not yet answered: how can I help you?"
"I need someone, of superior magical skills, who can help me trace the Wyckham-Collinses. Some rate me highly, both as a wizard and as a detective. I know your cousin's heart and his powers quite well. Above all else, I need a mage with a similar understanding of his wife."
"Such as myself?"
"Yes. Could you come with me to Pemberley, to start the investigation?"
"My parents must first be told, but yes."
Chapter 13
By telling her parents, Lizzie mostly meant telling her father and letting him spread the news through the rest of the family. She rather suspected that her mother would be the last to be informed.
She then set out by post-chaise for Pemberley. Darcy accompanied her, on the grounds that his horse needed a long rest more than a long journey. He did his best to keep the conversation trifling and irrelevant, but his best was not good enough.
"What makes you think Lady Catherine is involved in this?"
"There is certain thaumaturgical evidence at Pemberley which shows her as a conspirator, rather than a victim." Darcy replied. "It would be easier to show you when we get to Pemberley."
"But why would she do such a thing?" Lizzie's contact with the woman was limited to an introduction at the Netherfield Ball, where admittedly everyone from Mr. Darcy to Mr. Wyckham-Collins had shown to advantage. Still, Lady Catherine DeBourgh had not seemed like the sort who would kidnap her own niece.
"I received this," he handed her a note. Lizzie glanced through it. The gist of it was that the well-being of Miss Georgiana Darcy would be best served by making Lady Catherine DeBourgh sole guardian of that young lady and executor of her estate.
"My aunt and I are co-guardians and executors." Darcy explained. "Lady Catherine has spent most her fortune on her hypochondriac daughter, and now wishes to spend her way through Georgiana's. This she cannot do without either my consent or sole control of the estate."
"The Wyckham-Collinses are promised a fat annuity, no doubt."
"No doubt. Ah, here are the Pemberley gates."
Chapter 14
Author's note: you long-term readers know that I'm using Randall Garrett's fantasy universe for this story. By way of a trivia tidbit, the ankh routine below is the first time I've incorporated any of his "magi-babble" into the story in a big way. And as always, thank you for reading.
Pemberley was a tall, handsome house - a bit like its master in that respect. Less like him in that it looked gracious and inviting, standing in the middle of a lush green valley watered by a crooked, cheerful stream.
"What a beautiful place!" said Lizzie.
"A family legend claims that Pemberley stands on the ruins of Camelot, and boasts that it is fairer than Arthur's city," Darcy replied, with just pride. "The legend is not true. The boast, however, may be." His face darkened. "But we have more important matters before us."
Once they reached the doorstep, Lizzie pulled out her ankh and waved it over the threshold. The loop at the top glowed harshly. "Definitely a residue of black magic." she said. Ankhs were useful for detecting the presence and type of the black arts - where a true cross would dissipate such spells completely, an ankh would simply return it in a closed circuit.
"It's a sleeping spell, laid on the entire household." she continued. "Quite basic - must be Lydia's handiwork, not her husband's. Why?"
"He would lose his license as a physician if it became known that he employed the black arts." Darcy replied. There was both contempt and disgust in his voice, but not aimed at Lizzie. "As matters stand, he might claim to be unaware of what your sister has done. If she shields him, he may get off entirely."
"If so," said Lizzie, continuing her sweep with the ankh. "He's bungled badly. There's a sort of counter-spell within the spell - exempting a few people from its effect. Specifically: Lydia, Lady Catherine...and Wyckham-Collins."
"I recognized the counterspell." said Darcy. "It made me realize that," he paused briefly. "My aunt left willingly. I hadn't realized that it could be used as evidence against your brother-in-law."
Lizzie put the ankh away. "Would you be able to trace them?" Darcy asked. "Using a spell of association." He referred to the fact that magic wands could sense and retain strong emotions and focused intentions of their owners. The impressions of these thought could be read, but only by close friends or blood-relatives of the owner.
Lizzie pulled out Lydia's wand. Escape to a planned hiding place must have been prominent in Lydia's thoughts when she dropped it. "Perhaps. It's tedious work, though."
"I'm sorry. Come in and eat and rest first."
He opened the door for her. "Welcome to Pemberley," he said.
Chapter 14
The house was as elegant and as charming inside as out. Whatever spells the staff had been subjected to had not affected their cooking skills or their courtesy. For the first time since her adventure began, Lizzie thought back to the futile, arrogant declaration of love Darcy had once made to her in writing. He still respected her, but he gave no sign, she thought, of still loving her. Even if he did, this incident with the Wyckham-Collinses would have prevented any closer connection between their families. Rather sad, actually. Milord was a good man, for all his pride, and Pemberley was a house well worth being mistress of.
It was with such reflections that she retreated to her room after dinner, Lydia's wand in hand. Lizzie sat down, and closed her eyes.
'Lydia, laughing silly Lydia." The wand began to vibrate in her hand. 'Yes, I know her.'
Feelings of guilt and fear overcame her. Not her feelings, but Lydia's. She was going to a safe place though. everything would be all right when she reached....London?
She dashed downstairs to the library. There, among more books than she had ever seen in her life, Darcy paced glumly, pausing occasionally to stare into the fire.
"They're somewhere in London," Lizzie said. "It won't be easy, but we should be able to trace them."
Darcy's jaw tightened, as if for a fight. Not a fight with her though. "Then trace them we shall." He said.
Chapter 15
"When do we start for London?" Lizzie asked.
"Tomorrow, if you don't mind leaving again so soon." Darcy said.
"Very considerate of you, Milord. Are you sure you're feeling all right?" Darcy only chuckled at her baiting.
The next morning, they were on the road to London. Charles and Jane were now in town, and the plan was to stay with them. "I wonder what Mr. Bingley will think of this new trouble?" Lizzie asked.
"I don't know. Things have changed between us. In the old days, Charles relied more on my judgment than on his own."
"Except when taking a wife?"
"Fortunately, yes." Darcy replied. He stared out the window, a bit abstractly, almost shyly. "Of course, he had the good luck of being loved by the lady of his choice, and no great obstacles."
"In his case, I would have called you a very great obstacle indeed, Milord." Lizzie retorted. Darcy might improve on acquaintance, but it would never do to lose sight of his faults. His eyes turned back to Lizzie. "So how do you think your sister will take the news?"
"Jane will be quite convinced that the whole thing is one dreadful mistake, and will insist that you and I will find some perfectly innocent explanation for all of this."
"Which would be - what exactly?"
"Aye, there's the rub...ask her that, and poor Jane will be silent for a good ten minutes or so."
At the Bingleys' residence, the visitors were introduced simply as "Miss Eliza Bennet and a gentleman."
Jane stepped into the room. "Lizzie, darling, how good to see you again." She paused when she noticed Lord Darcy, but only for a second. "Milord! We are honored."
"Miss Eliza is always welcome here." Bingley's voice came from the doorway. "But what brings you here, Milord?" The cordiality in his voice suddenly sounded strained.
"I've come to ask you for something that I've no right to expect, Charles." Darcy began. "I need your help." He then told the Bingleys the whole story, up to the present.
Bingley looked over at Lizzie. "Is this true?" He asked her.
"Most unhappily, yes."
Bingley turned back to Darcy. "When we last spoke together, you objected to my marriage - not because of the lady, but because of her relations. I was angry." He hesitated. "It seems that your fears were well-grounded. I know I'm being a bit long-winded, but what I want to say is: shall we just forgive and forget?"
"With pleasure." the two men shook hands.
Chapter 16
"We're certainly glad to have you," said Jane to her sister after dinner. "And I know the two of you can find out the truth of Miss Darcy's disappearance if anyone can. But - what help can Charles and I give you?"
"As far as tracing the Wyckham-Collinses? Very little, I'm afraid. Truly good people like yourself are of no use as detectives," Lizzie smiled, "Because you don't really understand evil. With our bad manners and sharp tongues, Milord and I are ideally suited to detecting."
Jane started to protest against these remarks, but stopped because she couldn't truthfully refute them. Lizzie went on. "We may need your help once we find Georgiana - I mean, Miss Darcy. She will have had a rough time of it, and need a pair of gentle optimists like yourself and Charles, rather than us grim detectives."
Jane smiled. "Personally, I think the grim detectives would prove to be quite gentle with her, when the time comes."
Lizzie and Darcy set out on their quest early the next morning.
"Wyckham-Collins mentioned that he had lodgings in Cheapside when he was a student-thaumaturge." said Lizzie. "Maybe we should start there."
"Or maybe not." said Darcy. "He has many acquaintances there, but no friends loyal enough to turn a blind eye to him holding a young woman against her will. Many of them are used to magic, and might see through whatever camouflage spells he's using."
"True, but my mother's sister lives in Cheapside. Lydia is her favorite niece."
"What makes you think that Lydia's husband would permit her to pay a visit to her aunt?"
"What makes you think that she would tell him?"
Darcy was silent for a moment. "I had not thought of that," he admitted. "Let's go to Cheapside."
"I am going to Cheapside," said Lizzie firmly. You are going to follow what ever leads you can think of."
"But -"
"No. Lydia doesn't know that you and I are working together. You never got along very well with my family, and you more or less washed your hands of us when she got married. Why would she think that dear sister Lizzie is one of the enemy?"
Darcy sighed. "If arguments are a form of warfare," he said. "Then you must be the goddess of victory. Have it your way, then."
Chapter 17
. Their investigation did not go as well as they had hoped. "Any luck, Milord?" Lizzie asked one evening as she stood next to the Bingleys' fire place.. Three weeks had gone by, with no new clues as to the whereabouts of the Wyckham-Collinses or Georgiana.
"Nothing, I'm afraid. And you?"
Lizzie sighed. "I've nothing to show for my efforts but an better acquaintance with my aunt's bonnets and a virtual intimacy with her pug."
"Would I be wrong in inferring that you do not care for her company."
"Aunt Elaine resembles my mother a great deal. Except in this: she has less tact and understanding than my mother."
The corners of Darcy's mouth twitched upward for a moment. Lizzie talked on. "I love Aunt Elaine of course, but, well, 'To love is not to like', as the poets would say."
"That's a consolation, anyway." said Darcy absently.
"What do you mean?" He started and looked flustered.
"Well," he said, hesitating a little. "There are always people - kinfolk, I suppose, or teachers - whom one is indebted to, but one can't like." He took a step closer to her, looked down straight into her eyes. "And then there are people, who can't like one, it's a matter of one's personality - and history - being offensive to them. It's cheering to think that they might be able to love one anyway."
For the first time since she had known him, Lizzie felt shy before him. She changed the subject. "Do you think I should go again to Aunt Elaine's?" she asked. "Or is it a waste of time?"
Darcy sighed, and looked past her. "It's no more a waste of time than than my efforts. If you can tolerate your aunt again, I think it would be worthwhile to go back."
Chapter 18
Lizzy dutifully set out for her aunt's the next morning. Darcy had been distressingly vague about his own plans; so she assumed that he did not have any, beyond wearing out Jane's carpet with pacing. They really hadn't had much luck so far...a banging door intruded on her thoughts.
"Gor! Lizzy! What are YOU doing here!" It was Lydia.
"I've been staying with Jane and Charles, and I thought I'd visit Aunt Elaine while I was in town."
"Yes, Lizzy's been so sweet as to come every day," their aunt chimed in. Lizzy looked down at the pug on her lap. What if Lydia suspected? After all, why would anyone come to visit Aunt Elaine if they could possibly help it?
"Poor Lizzy! Sounds like you badly need some excitement," said Lydia. Whatever black arts her husband had taught her, caution and cunning were apparently not among them.
"Perhaps I do need a little excitement," said Lizzy teasingly.
"You should come home to dinner with me, then. I daresay it will give dear Wyckie quite a turn."
It would at that, thought Lizzie. She considered turning down Lydia's offer, trying to coax hints about where she was staying out of her instead. No good. The moment Wyckham-Collins gets wind of this, she thought, he'll change lodgings, and throw us off the scent again. We'll never get another chance.
Aloud, she said "I'd love to."
Chapter 18
Lydia set out for home not long afterwards, and Lizzie wlked with her. The latter could not shake the impression that they were being followed, but since she could see no actual evidence of this, she did not worry overmuch.
"So, is all well with you?" she asked Lydia.
"Very well. Dear Wyckie has a sort of practical joke going. Lady Catherine herself suggested it, and if it comes off," Lydia giggled. "She'll make us both rich."
In such pleasantries did they pass the time, until they reached a squalid tenant building in one of the worst parts of London.
"It's not fancy, but it's so EXciting," Lydia twittered.
"Were I to marry, I think I would prefer someplace less... exciting to live," Lizzie laughed as naturally as she could, but all she could think of was shy Pemberley-bred Georgiana trapped in such a place.
They went up to the third floor. The place smelt of filth and old fish. "Wyckie will be coming soon," said Lydia. "I must dress for him. Do make yourself at home."
Lizzie did not. She pulled out her ankh and waved it around. She followed it in the direction where it glowed the brightest. The glow led her to an unlocked door in one corner. She pulled it open. Georgiana sat in a room with an open window, wearing a coarse, drab dress. Her face shone with relief when she saw Lizzie, but Lizzie gestured her to be quiet.
"Can you climb?" she asked the girl.
"No they have a spell blocking the window and the door," said Georgiana.
"No, I mean: if I remove the spells, can you climb out of that window and get away from here as fast as you can?"
"I think so."
Lizzie got to work. She had a golden opportunity to get Georgiana away from here without her jailors realizing what had happened. To do that, she had to counteract the spell just long enough for Georgiana to get out, without actually eliminating it, which Wyckham-Collins would surely notice, if not Lydia. It took several tries, but Lizzie finally neutralized the spell by the window. As soon as Georgiana was safely away she removed her countermeasures, and let the spell revert to its original state.
She had just closed the door and was starting back to her seat when Lydia returned, in a very frilly, very low-cut dress. "I bought it today," she sniggered. "Do you like it?" For the second time that day, Lizzie blessed her sister's stupidity. "The question is, will your husband like it? As for that, I think it likely to be...very much to much to his tastes."
As if on cue, Wyckham-Collins himself entered the room.
Chapter 19
All would have lost had not Lizzie seized the initiative. "My dear cousin," she said. "I had no idea you and Lydia were in town until I met her at our Aunt's!"
Wickham relaxed visibly. He was still nervous, but it was the nervousness of a man trying to hide something from a shrewd but unsuspecting visitor.
He must be unaware of Georgiana's escape, Lizzie thought, and he doesn't know that I'm working with Lord Darcy. All I have to do is feign ignorance, and I can leave after dinner.
Dinner definitively proved that Lydia could not cook. Lizzie had very little appetite, and hoped that her hosts would put it down to an over-dainty palate, rather than to...something else. Finally Lydia got to work clearing off the dishes.
"Wyckie darling," she said. "Shouldn't I put something out for our OTHER guest?"
Wyckie darling turned bright red, and not at the term of endearment. "Surely you jest, my love," he choked.
"Nonsense," said Lydia. She traipsed over to the other door, and pulled it open. Wyckham-Collins' eyes widened when he saw it empty. Then they narrowed to slits.
"I suppose, dear cousin, that you have a fair notion of where Georgiana is." He said to Lizzie with a sneer.
The front door to the apartment disintegrated in a flash of light. "No, she doesn't," said Lord Darcy as he stepped into the room. "My sister is now safe with the Bingleys."
"Now we four can settle among ourselves." Said Lizzie as four wands were pulled from their hiding places.
Chapter 20: The Conclusion
Wyckham-Collins hurled a mass of blood-red lightning which dissolved harmlessly against the blue mists which suddenly enveloped Lizzy and Darcy. Their enemy lifted his wand again,and a mass of loathsome rats sped across the floor.
"Let me help you, Wyckie" giggled Lydia. She muttered a few words...and two black cats appeared. They pounced on the rats, devouring them.
"Lydia you fool!" her husband snarled, turning to her. Lydia's nose grew long, and her face grew hairy. Suddenly,
she was a sloth. Wyckham-Collins turned back to face his foes alone. He tried on Lizzie the same spell which he had used on his wife. Her defensive spells held him off at first, but he persisted. She could not defuse his attacks much longer - but all in a flash, Wyckham-Collins lay on the floor, sloth-shaped. Lizzy looked over at Darcy.
"It's a rather obscure deflection spell," he said, answering her unspoken question. "Turns the enemy's attack against himself."
"Could you teach it to me, sometime?"
"With the greatest pleasure." Darcy said, as he picked up Wyckham-Collins by the tail.
It took several months to sort out the legal issues. Lady Catherine was sentenced to life imprisonment. The High Court of Thaumaturgy ruled that in nowise had Lizzy or Darcy used cruel or excessive magic, and sentenced the Wyckham-Collinses to remain forever in the sloth-forms which their greed and folly had brought upon them.
It was after all this that Lizzie came again to Pemberley to Georgiana and her brother. "My sister is out, but will soon be back," said Lord Darcy. "Would you care to take a stroll about the grounds?" Lizzie agreed. Once they were well away from the house, Darcy stopped.
"I once wrote to you, speaking of my regard for you," he began. "Please - don't speak yet. I spoke of it as something which must remain unfulfilled, incomplete. I was wrong to write thus; at the risk of sounding melodramatic, life without you is hollow, worthless. Dare I -"
"Milord, stop torturing me and yourself. Yes, I love you; yes I'll marry you." She had of course a thousand explanations of why she had not thought that he would marry her, and he had a thousand explanations to counter hers. Suffice it to say, that theirs was the most brilliant wedding of the season, and the happiest in its results.
THE END