The Tale of Her Destiny

by Sarah

October 2003, Witching Hour - Winning Entry, Best Use of Props

Rated PG

Author's Note: I hate being scared, I’m a self confessed scaredy cat, thus making me incapable of writing anything remotely terrifying, so here is my overly sappy and twisted Halloween offering – to be honest I really don’t remember what I was thinking when the idea was first conceived.

I just want to say a BIG Thank you to Andrea for being totally fanstastic and great

Upon hearing the news that Netherfield intended to play host to a Masquerade Ball, for the occasion of All Hallows Eve, the families in the local vicinity could talk of nothing else. Not even the news that Mr. Bingley’s particular friend, a gentleman of £10,000 a year, would be arriving for a visit could elicit the same excitement, truth be told, barely a mention was made.

Each member of the Bennet house reacted to the news of a ball in a different way, Immediately, Mr. Bennet removed to his library to escape the excited screams of his two youngest, not to mention his wife. Mary disappeared off into the music room to practice a new piece, whilst Elizabeth took Jane by the arm and marched her out for turn around the garden.

Awaiting Mr. Bennet when he arrived in his library was a letter bearing the Fitzwilliam family seal. Although it was not the one he was frequently witness to, he soon realised that this letter was from the son of his favourite correspondent.

Mr. Bennet,

Father has advised me that your last letter contained an invitation addressed to me concerning a long overdue reunion. I shall be visiting an acquaintance in the neighbourhood for the occasion of an All Hallows Eve Masquerade Ball, I am sure you are well acquainted with Mr. Bingley. I believe it would be a perfect time to become reacquainted with your family. It has been many long years since we have met. Given your consent I shall arrive at Longbourn on the afternoon of Friday the 24, one week prior to the ball. My stay in the district shall be of an unknown duration, however if I am of any inconvenience to you father bids me to tell you that I can remove to Netherfield at any time.

There are some matters of importance that you are aware of that I believe will need addressing very soon. I would consider taking some of the old family trunks down from your attics, your daughters may find costumes for the ball, but remember your most deserving should get what she deserves. Father says he knows you will hesitate, but remember the old letter, he says his nephew is feeling it strongly now and mentions it often. I am sure you understand my reasoning.

Your Cousin, etc.
Viscount Edward Fitzwilliam.

To anyone else whose eyes beheld the letter it would seem that the latter part was written by a completely different person to the introduction, however Mr. Bennet could understand only too well what his cousin was trying to tell him. He was only slightly discomforted by this revelation as he only too well remembered the old letter. The old letter that had been handed down alternate generations, his grandfather had given it to him and he shall pass it to his first grandchild, there was an identical one that had passed through the Fitzwilliam family also. Many would scoff when told magic was involved, yet All Hallows Eve was the time when the magic was the strongest, and possessing that knowledge made Mr. Bennet feel more than unsettled.

“Mrs Bennet, please see to it that we are able to accommodate an additional guest for the evening meal two days hence forth, he shall also be staying for a short, but still undecided duration.”

“Who is this gentleman of which you speak?”

“You are very quick to presume he is a gentleman madam,” Mr. Bennet, highly amused by the appropriate shock displayed by his wife, decided to continue. “It is someone whom I have once only before had the pleasure to meet, he is grown now and if he resembles his late father he will be an upstanding gentleman of the best sort. If my cousin had not disestablished the entailment he would also be the next master of Longbourn. ”

At the mention of the word gentleman, the attentions of Lydia and Kitty were lost, the former due to a lack of uniform and the latter was happy to follow the former. The mention of the word entailment brought Mrs Bennet a fit of nerves, quickly calling for her smelling salts to revive her.

“His name, Mr. Bennet, I do not recall his name.”

“Oh it is of no importance,” Mr. Bennet quickly dismissed his wife’s desire to add names to the gossip she would later spread around her acquaintances.

“Oh but it is! This man, you have said often, is a man of great fortune. He shall marry one of our girls.” With the excitement of the announcement, Mrs Bennet began to set an agenda for the visit. Muttering to herself, she began to plan the direction of one lucky, or unlucky, daughter’s future.
“Not Jane, no she is to have Mr. Bingley. The cousin is from the north, I recall, and no doubt very ugly, too far away for my dear Lydia. Mary has little to recommend herself, we shall overlook at her. It must be Lizzy or Kitty, it is of no real consequence whom he chooses, for he simply will choose one as compensation for the estate.” Mrs Bennet prattled on until her husband decided to curtail his amusement and put stop to her incessant chattering.

“If that is your agenda, madam, I shall write post-haste and inform him to journey straight to his friend’s property.”

“It must be his plan – he must be in want of a wife,” Mrs Bennet simply stated.

“If he wanted a wife I am sure he would already have one.”

“Oh your father does so delight in teasing us, doesn’t he girls?”

“Do I?” Mr. Bennet smiled, shook his head, and quit the room.

Mr. Bennet instructed that a footman accompany him to the attic immediately. He knew that it was now time, his letter had informed him of that much. His directions were to give the items to the most deserving, his favourite of course would be the obvious, but would he want that for her? Then again it was destiny. Mr. Bennet sighed, he understood it was family tradition, but that did not mean that he had to encourage it. Locating the set of cases relevant to his desire, he closely studied them. After changing his mind several times he directed that the one inscribed Isabella Bennet on the name plaque be put into Elizabeth’s possession and the one bearing Grace Bennet be left to Jane’s care. He then pointed to four random trunks to be delivered to the morning room to appease his remaining daughters, and wife.

“Elizabeth, Jane,” Mr. Bennet called out to his eldest who were still walking the park, “If I can have but a moment with you.”

“Yes Papa,” answered Jane serenely, whilst Elizabeth smiled brightly at her father.

“Considering this news of a ball, I believe that you will be in want of costumes,” began Mr. Bennet before being interrupted by his favourite.

“Papa, I was not aware that you had an inclination for silks, lace and masks” teased Elizabeth.

“Now Lizzy, I am more than aware that this is usually your mothers foray, but I believe that in our attics there are enough trunks full of possession of past generations to costume the whole town of Meryton.”

“Well perhaps we can spend some time…”

“Ah Jane, I believe you are requesting to investigate the attics?”

“Yes Papa,” Jane smiled at her sister, interested in exploring as many secrets as Longbourn had to share.

“Well I have taken the liberty of having a trunk sent to each of your rooms. Jane you shall have my aunt Grace’s trunk and Elizabeth, my aunt Isabella’s.” Mr. Bennet smiled sadly at his favourite and continued, “I believe you shall find what you desire in there, they were very elegant ladies and the fashions of a generation ago should make very desirable costumes. All you are required to do is choose what you will and have a mask fashioned by the milliner, to compliment it.” Mr. Bennet passed each girl a key, Jane’s on a soft yellow ribbon and Elizabeth’s on a dark blue.

Both girls threw themselves into their father’s embrace, gushing words of appreciation and excitement.

“Now girls, before you ask, your mother and sisters have a supply of trunks to occupy themselves, yours are special, and I suggest you keep them away from the others’ clutches.”

“Yes Papa,” replied the sisters in unison.

“Well then, my work is complete and I am going to retire to my library with a good book,” and with that Mr. Bennet was gone, leaving the girls to rush back to their rooms to see what awaited their return.

Elizabeth stared at the large battered old travelling trunk that had been brought down from the attics on her father’s request. It had been placed in her dressing room to provide much needed privacy from her younger sisters’ prying eyes. With no indication as to its contents, Elizabeth felt great trepidation about opening it, with the key her father gave her in her hand she looked with uncertainty in the general direction of the case.

Jane was similarly positioned in her own dressing room, a trunk of her own commanding her attentions. However, her’s were thoughts lost in dreams of masks, dances and a certain gentleman who favoured a blue coat. The case remaining untouched for the time being whilst daydreams were dreamt instead.

Hearing the lock click open, Elizabeth calmly lifted the lid and began to investigate the contents. At first she found several beautiful gowns, matching slippers, and gloves. The dresses were made of the finest materials with exquisite embroidery, Elizabeth realised that they must have been the gowns from important events in this lady’s life, her debutant gown, a wedding dress, court regalia, and a delicate ball gown. After carefully moving the larger items away she discovered a small carved wooden box in the bottom containing priceless trinkets and jewels. It was obvious the settings were generations old, yet each set complimented a different gown so well it appeared that it had been created in its honour.

After examining all the pieces Elizabeth felt compelled to take another look in the trunk. Feeling something wasn’t right, she had a closer look at its construction. She soon she came to the conclusion that it contained a false bottom and set to work trying to remove the offending panel. A very short time later the piece was out and a myriad of treasure was revealed before Elizabeth’s eyes.

When the case finally caught Jane’s attention she discovered much the same contents as Elizabeth did, the small exception being there was no sign of a false bottom in the trunk belonging to Grace Bennet.

Jane’s attention was immediately drawn to a soft gold flowing dress, with an underdress of a deep creamy pink. Its style completed and colours complemented Jane’s features perfectly and with its jewels, slippers and gloves all in excellent condition, all it left for Jane to do was to fashion a mask of her own design to have the milliner style.

Elizabeth’s curious nature overcame her interest in finding the perfect dress for the ball and the treasures were inspected one after another. There was a small mirror with a miniature of a lady in a fine silver and blue jewelled dress, the same dress Elizabeth suspected was Isabella’s coming out gown. The old letter that she next discovered explained her suspicions and confirmed that it was Isabella herself. As Elizabeth read the letter she realised that it was addressed to herself…

Although we shall never meet, I feel that we are connected in a way that you as yet do not know. Yet the time is near, your character is strong and what is about to happen you shall come to understand. You are truly the most deserving; no other would discover the concealed bottom of my case, indeed your dear father, my most precious nephew, has made the right decision.

The small mirror that you see belonged to my father, I was also his favourite; he had it commissioned for the occasion of my coming out ball. The dress was made for me, but its design was one of another I long admired, my grandmother’s wedding gown. We also shared the special bond that has passed many generations throughout our family. I pray that, when you are in need of a gown, you will wear this one – it is the most exquisite, magical dress you could dream of.

Please make these possessions, once mine, your own, for I have now no use of them. As my one request I only ask that you take the old book and keep its contents with you always.

I will leave you with my favourite quote, ‘Shall we’ – ‘Yes’

Your loving Aunt
Isabella Bennet Darcy

If Elizabeth was at all confused or frightened by her letter she did not show it. Instead, she reached for the leather bound old book with the intention of discovering what she was to keep with her. Upon opening it she discovered the book was a ruse. It was indeed fashioned as book but it held a secret, there were no words inside, nor pages to be precise, but a small opening which held a blue velvet purse. Taking the purse she emptied it of its contents, a miniature portrait of a gentleman and a beautiful old necklace. The necklace appeared as a whole but Elizabeth felt that there was something missing to it, almost as if there were another part to complete it. Immediately, Elizabeth claimed the two small pieces as her favourites and decided that the necklace would be an essential part of her masquerade costume and her gown would be chosen with accordance to Isabella’s wishes.

The intermitting days between the expected visitor’s arrival passed quickly, after all there was much to be done. Rooms were to be prepared, flowers collected and menus planned. Visits to inform neighbours were to be paid – the Bennet cousin’s expected arrival had far overshadowed that of Bingley’s friend, infact the excitement was second only to the much anticipated ball.

Jane and Elizabeth’s masks had been created, fitted and treasured, put away with their costumes that had been prepared for use once again. Mary had decided to forgo a costume, simply wearing one of her own gowns with a dark vale to cover her features. The younger girls, however, still had trouble deciding their costumes – everything that Kitty favoured Lydia seized away declaring it much better suited to herself, then discarded it. More trunks were called for and the girls continued their pursuit for the perfect costume.

As custom, the majority family arose early the morning of their cousin visit, all bar Mrs. Bennet and her youngest. Seated for an early breakfast, they were surprised when it was announced that they had a visitor.

“I wonder who it could be?” Jane turned to Elizabeth as they watched their father leave the table to greet their guest.

“I could not suspect any person of our neighbourhood, I do believe that they would all still be above stairs.”

“Lizzy I do not know that that is the case, Mr. Bingley has often remarked that he enjoys to see the sun rise.”

“Indeed Jane I believe you may be right, I can predict that Mr. Bingley would stay awake to watch the sun rise but not rise to see the sun awake.” Lizzy smiled as Jane blushed but they were both prevented from conversing on the topic any longer as their father and his guest entered the room.

“Ladies, I would like to present to you your cousin, Viscount Fitzwilliam, who insists that we are to all call him Edward. Edward, my daughters – Mary, Catherine, Jane and Elizabeth.” His voice softened as he named his favourite, something that Edward did not miss. He knew she was the one.

“You will find my youngest and my dear wife have not yet -descended.”

Breakfast passed quickly with such amiable company, Edward telling his cousins about his journey, his family and his delight in the country so far.

The days between Edward’s arrival and the days leading up to the ball passed with pleasantries and amusement. Lydia, as predicted, had found not the slightest interest in her cousin and avoided his company at any time possible, spending as much time as she possibly could with the wives of the officers that were currently encamped in Meryton. As much as Kitty would have like to accompany her sister, her mother thought it best that both she and Elizabeth entertain their cousin and thus insisted that Mary accompany Lydia instead, leaving Jane free to spend her time with Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst in preparation for the ball.

Edward, Kitty and Elizabeth passed the week with walks, rides and adventures. Kitty was not used to being included in such fun and soon found that Elizabeth was much kinder to her than Lydia. Elizabeth, in return, found Kitty more likeable and even intelligent when taken away from the company of her younger, more determined sister

Edward watched with some kind of amusement as the sisters discovered a new friendship with each other. He watched Elizabeth with great interest. His cousin, Mr. Bennet, had informed him that Elizabeth was in possession of Isabella’s trunk. He saw the old necklace around her neck, constantly worn since his arrival. He watched Kitty for a whole other reason; she bewitched him, totally and utterly.

Elizabeth could see a close bond forming between her sister and her cousin. Although a good man, Edward had not the chief quality that Elizabeth sought to find in a husband – someone she could yet she saw that her sister had become quite attached to him and at every opportunity left them alone.

Thus, by the end of the week, all three had formed new friendships with each other, some closer than others, yet all rewarding. Elizabeth had discovered a new side to her sister, Kitty had discovered love and Edward had seen both destiny and fate play its their hands yet again.

Upon hearing of the arrival of his cousin at Netherfield, Edward reluctantly gave his apologies to Kitty and Elizabeth, promising to walk out with them later that morning, and directly made his way to see his cousin.

Greeting each other like brothers, Edward and his cousin quickly informed each other of passing events and moved onto the much lamented subject of the Masquerade Ball. The main topic of conversation for the inhabitants of Netherfield was that of costumes, each wanted to know what the other was wearing so that they could instantly recognise each other and pass the evening in pleasurable company.

“Dress in uniform? Edward, you must speak in jest.”

“Indeed I do not Cousin,” replied Edward most astonished.

“Why ever would you want to wear a uniform?”

“I have it on good word, that many of the young ladies in the vicinity will only bestow attentions to those who possess a red coat.”

“I have never heard of such a thing. You are a Viscount, a future Earl, a gentleman of fortune non the least. Should not that be enough to gain attentions?”

“I do not want attentions simply for my fortune.”

“Just for your younger brother’s red coat?”

“If that is it then it must be so, I shall not be chased by a fortune hunter.”

“No Edward, you shall hunted by a coat chaser.”

“Kitty is not…. Erm… What are you to wear then cousin?”

As quickly as he was asked, a cloak was produced, pulled around his shoulders, putting on a voice, he snarled, “I am to be Count Dracula.”

“You are to be a fool.”

“A fool who must await….”

“Yes, yes, a fool who simply must wait. Must you always speak so?”

“Yes, what is she like?”

“She is simply your destiny and you must be patient. Though she is nothing like Miss Bingley.”

“Edward…”

“No, Count Dracula, your identity is safe with me and yet so is hers.”

The idea of the ball had been conceived long ago, waiting only for the next favourable full moon. As it happened, with the dates available, All Hallows Eve seemed perfect – not only would the moon be at its brightest, but the sense of magic surrounding a masquerade ball would be brought to new heights with the mystic feel of the eve.

Picking up the old necklace from her dressing table, Elizabeth held it up to examine it. She soon noticed it sparkling in the light of the full moon, and smiled as she thought of its previous life and the mysterious, if not strange, aunt Isabella. Her attention was caught by the hooting of an owl in the tree outside her window, and she was once again mesmerised by the light of the moon. A full moon, the perfect night for a ball or assembly….

Her hair had been done up in the style of the previous generations, it had been lavishly powdered and swept up off her face, a tumble of very loose curls cascading down her back. An elegant white feather rested in the crown of her hair, and when Elizabeth looked into the mirror she hardly recognised herself. Her skin was pale, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were a soft red. The necklace had been placed around her neck and now glistened in the light of the candle.

She rose, ready for assistance with her costume. The dress was so exquisite, it was almost indescribable. The heavy layers in the back were of glistening silver and the soft flowing silks in the front were of a deep midnight blue. It was embroidered with a simple elegant design along the hem and the bodice had a string of tiny pearls attached to a sapphire stone in the centre. The sleeves ended at her elbows and were trimmed by the dark blue silk, the complimenting mask hanging from her right arm by silver ribbons.

Previously deciding not to share details of their costumes until the night of the ball, Elizabeth, having completed her final preparations, went in search of Jane. They were shocked and delighted to find that their gowns were very much in the same style, indeed the only real difference was that of colour and accessories.

The sisters then went in search of Kitty. Upon Edward’s insistence, a third specific trunk was retrieved from the attic, and both Jane and Elizabeth were curious to see what she had chosen from it. They were astonished with the appearance of their sister; almost unrecognisable, Kitty was dressed in the fashion of Mary, Queen of Scots.

With the arrival of three sisters downstairs, screams of unfairness were heard from Lydia, who resembled a farmer’s wife, pumpkin in tow. She protested and carried on until her father prevented her from attending the ball and banished her to her rooms for the rest of the evening.

Compliments were given to the remaining girls, even Mary, for her simple gown and veil gave off an air of elegance that could be compared to that of her sisters’ lavish gowns. They then made their way to the awaiting carriage, ready to take them the short distance to Netherfield.

Upon entering the ball, they were greeted warmly by Mr. Bingley and his hostess Miss Bingley. Mr. Bingley claimed Jane’s hand for the first dances and then continued the duty of greeting the scores upon scores of guests.

Edward, who did not travel with the Bennet’s, made his way out of an alcove where he had been talking to a man in a dark cloak, upon recognising his family. He quickly claimed the hand of Kitty and stole her away. Mary was soon asked to dance by someone unknown, leaving Elizabeth to wander the room with thoughts of Isabella filling her head.

The musicians began to play and the sounds of familiar notes filled the ball room. Elizabeth was approached by a tall, dark man in a costume she surmised was that of a vampire, she did not recognise him or his voice as he asked her to dance. The first dance was that of the scandalous waltz, after all a Masquerade Ball called for a little something to give it distinction.

As she was twirled around the room she could not help but reflect on the mysteries of All Hallows Eve. As if reading her thoughts, the mysterious gentleman held her tighter and whispered that he was delighted that the moon had allowed the ball to be held on this particular eve. He complimented her costume, but more especially he complimented her necklace. He spoke to her with such intimacy that she felt she knew him. She felt he knew her. She noticed the twinkling of the gem in his cravat pin with a sense of deja vu. The danced too soon finished and noticing that the doors to the balcony had been opened for the occasion, Elizabeth boldly took hold of the gentleman’s hand and led him outside. She knew not why, but she felt she must.

“After all these years, I cannot believe that they will be brought together” said the mysterious gentleman almost to himself. He then continued on in a more confidant voice. “Have you in your possession a miniature portrait of a gentleman? I am to hope that it was given to you, in the trunk, with the pendant.”

Elizabeth produced the miniature from her reticule and handed it to the masked man. “How do you know of the trunk?”

Disregarding her question, he then asked her to remove her mask, to which she complied with caution. “A masquerade ball is supposed to be anonymous.” She whispered softly, but proceeded with unfastening her mask regardless.

He gasped when he saw her face, “You look just like her.”

“Just like who?” Elizabeth questioned.

Darcy produced the other half of the portrait from his coat pocket, “I carry it everywhere,” he whispered. Unfastening his cravat pin, he pressed both pieces into the palm of Elizabeth’s hand and commanded her to examine them.

“Just like her,” he almost whispered, indicating to the woman in the portrait.

“Oh my, this is the other half the portrait of the gentleman!” Carefully Elizabeth joined the portraits, forming a whole in which the couple complimented each other perfectly. A tiny flash of blue light was seen and Elizabeth tried to part the portraits but they were joined as if one whole. She looked expectantly at the gentleman.

“Yes, the miniatures rejoined at last. They will not part until one of us dies.”

“One of us dies?!” asked Elizabeth, almost scared. She was now nearly certain that this gentleman was an escapee from Bedlam. “Will not part? Impossible!” insisted Elizabeth in a voice with more confidence than she felt.

“I will explain. It’s destiny.”

“Destiny?” asked Elizabeth incredulously. She had only met this man, truthfully only encountered, and he was now speaking of death and destiny.

“This portrait, in its original form, hangs in the gallery at Pemberley, my home.”

“Isabella, my aunt, her home was Pemberley.”

“Yes, and the pin you hold in your hand is a piece which will complete your necklace, the inscription, on the reverse, read aloud as a whole by those in possession of the pieces promises a lifetime together of happiness, an old gypsy legend that has been passed down through our families for generations. It is said that George and Isabella first met and fell in love at a masquerade ball on the continent, coincidently, on All Hallows Eve. My grandparents and your great aunt and uncle, the pieces skip a generation – the eldest male and the most deserving female. Do not think I am mad, it is simply our destiny.”

Elizabeth looked astonished at the revelation, but did not speak, so the gentleman continued.

“In Isabella George perceived a likeness to an ancestor whose portrait resided in the family gallery. She in turn saw a pin on his cravat that she recognised as the partner to her pendant, a gift from her great, great aunt. They removed to the balcony to partake fresh air. They spoke of their recognitions and George informed her of the gypsy legend. They put the pieces together and out of instinct read the inscription. They were never parted again.”

The Mysterious gentleman then put the pieces together and held the inscription in view of them both, ready to read. “Shall we?” he asked, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Shall we” – “Yes.” The words of Isabella played in her mind, slowly all was making sense…yet Elizabeth did not know the identity of this mysterious gentleman. His voice and persona were not familiar, yet she felt she knew them. Did she believe in destiny?

“Who are you?” Elizabeth asked in astonishment. Suddenly it was all too much, she felt she should run, but she knew she couldn’t – she knew instinctively that it was her destiny.

The mysterious gentleman removed his mask, made a low bow and prepared to introduce himself. “Fitzwilliam Darcy, at your service Miss Bennet, or should I say Cousin Elizabeth?”

Copyright held by Sarah - 2003