Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

" T here now, Anne," said George as his wife slammed the door shut behind the interloping Jezebel. "Calm yourself. That Bingley girl cannot cause any further harm. At this moment, our son is secure with his future bride and well away from her clutches."

"I know," Lady Anne replied as the aura around her calmed, "but she has no right to be in this room. It is reserved for the lawful mistress of Pemberley, not some upstart from trade."

"Miss Bennet has family in trade, if you recall." They hovered before the entryway that would lead into his former bedroom, the one now occupied by their son as he presided over the estate, blocking it from any further trespass from low class young women.

All around them, the room was righting itself and regaining its former orderly, if dirty, appearance. The broken furniture pieced itself back together, not a single seam visible once it had fused into wholeness again, and moved back into position. The porcelain figurines, shattered upon the floor, came back together and retreated to their places. Dust covers flew about the room as if they were full of spirits themselves and swaddled the newly restored furnishings. The only items left alone were those the trespasser had disturbed or abandoned. Reality had knitted itself back together flawlessly.

Lady Anne waved his comment away, huffing with exasperation. "That is neither here nor there! Miss Bennet was raised as a gentlewoman and, more to the point, is not after our son simply for his fortune. Were that the case, she would have accepted him in the spring and saved us all much trouble."

"Ah, but she would not be such a charming, worthy young lady had that been the case," George replied, taking his vexed wife's hand and bringing it up to his face. He caressed his luminescent cheek against it and bestowed a kiss upon her fingers. "And it did the boy some good to be humbled. I believe he has been spending too much time with your brother and sister and has acquired a swelled head."

"Hmph."

The pair fell silent and observed as the door to the hall opened again, prepared to frighten away any unwanted visitors. They smiled, however, when their daughter, sweet Georgiana, stepped inside and peered about the room as if looking for a disturbance. She moved back out into the hall and could be heard to say, "I see nothing unusual."

"What?" cried the interloper's voice. "I do not understand."

They could both sense her draw near the doorway, and Lady Anne tensed, ready to torment Miss Bingley within an inch of her life should she have the nerve to enter a second time. George placed a steadying hand upon his wife's arm and projected a cold, creeping sense of menace to keep her out. The hint seemed to work, for Miss Bingley approached no farther.

"Perhaps you were sleepwalking?"

"I…ah…" Miss Bingley paused. "I suppose I was."

George snorted. "Sleepwalking, my eye!"

"And you will take greater care in future to prevent yourself from wandering the halls at night?"

"Yes, I shall make a point of not, um, sleepwalking."

Lady Anne glowered at the doorway. "See that you do."

"Very good," replied their dear girl with a firmness her father could be proud of, either alive or dead. Georgiana marched into the room and collected together the detritus left behind by Miss Bingley's encroachment, removing every sign of their unwelcome guest's presence within the chamber excepting the displaced sheet. She slipped the key into the pocket of her dressing gown with one hand and returned the personal items to Miss Bingley with the other. "Now, shall I see you back to your room?"

The door closed behind the two ladies, leaving the pair of phantoms alone, hovering just slightly over the carpet. There were no words between them for several minutes.

"I do wish she could still see us." Lady Anne's forlorn voice reverberated around her old chambers, though the living could not hear.

George nodded as he placed a hand upon his dearly departed wife's lower back and drew her closer. She floated towards him as if gliding upon a breeze. "As do I, my dear, but perhaps it is better this way. The living should not be so involved with the dead. Georgiana has much life to live, after all, and we would not wish to take her away from it."

"Easy for you to say." Lady Anne sniffled as her head drooped upon his shoulder. "You had much more time with her than I did. She remembers me not at all, save for as a wraith she has discounted as a dream. "

George pressed his cold lips to her equally frigid forehead. "Perhaps not, but Fitzwilliam has told her all about you, and it is as if she knows you. She tends the rose garden as you once did. She is forever gazing at your portrait. And she certainly has your commanding manner—did you see how well she managed that Bingley woman?"

Lady Anne's laugh was as haunting as her person. "Yes, though I believe she learnt such behaviour from our son."

"True, but whom did he take it from? I have never been able to look so severe."

"I just wish…" Lady Anne paused, gathering her words from deep within her departed soul. "I just wish that I could truly be part of their lives, rather than a mere shadow that stalks them from another realm."

"As do I, my love, as do I." George sighed but continued on a more positive note, "However, I believe our intervention this night has been invaluable to our children. Fitzwilliam will now marry that lovely young woman and raise a family. Georgiana will thrive with Miss Bennet as a sister. Truly, although we are no longer of this world, we have made it better for our descendants."

Lady Anne nodded as they both faded into the darkness, leaving not a trace of their existence behind.