Mrs Darcy vs The Aliens

Elizabeth bustled her way through the throng of ballgoers, searching for Mr Darcy.

“Excuse me, have you seen – ” she said to a passing servant, but her words were drowned by the music starting up again. The orchestra were playing the opening bars to Young Montmorency’s Cotillion Arabesque, a gay dance which involved a sequence of intricate hand gestures. This was one of Elizabeth’s favourites and she had so looked forward to dancing it with Fitzy, hoping that it might help her forget everything else that was going on. But he had been in a strange mood – tonight of all nights! – and had been brusque to the point of rudeness with several of their guests already.

“Fitzy? Where are – ah, there you are!” He was marching past her on his way to the main staircase, entirely oblivious to her until she tugged at his sleeve.

“I … I need to – ”

“Nonsense, my dear, you’re coming with me.”

“I … really, I … ow!”

Elizabeth grabbed hold of her husband and dragged him off towards the ballroom. They found a group who were a couple short, and she positioned him opposite her and joined in the dance.

“So what is it that is so pressing that you cannot bear to dance with your wife?” she said with a playful smile as they crossed.

“It’s … well, there’s someone – ”

“I do hope it’s not some fancy mistress of yours?” She raised her eyebrow mockingly.

“Good heavens, no … look, I must – ”

Elizabeth looked on in amazement as Fitzy ran out of the room. However, only a minute or so later he returned. His boots were now spattered with mud.

“I’m back!” he said, clearly struggling to work out where they were in the dance.

“So you are. I feared you were going to be away much longer. Right foot, left arm, dear. Right foot, left arm.”

“My dearest Lizzy, I have been travelling for days!”

“I hardly think so. I would agree that Pemberley is a more than usually large residence, but surely – ”

“They kept me in a dungeon!”

“A dungeon? Are you referring to the cellars? I have asked Dench to arrange for them to be cleaned out, but I would hardly refer to them as a dungeon. Left foot, now. To me. To me.” She broke off and looked at him. He seemed about to faint, and was having trouble standing up, let alone dancing. “My dear, are you well?”

“I am … I am … I don’t know … I’m so … Lizzy, they used a probe on me! They stuck it up my – ”

“Fitzy, dear, people are looking at us. Do you wish to leave the dance for a moment?”

“I ran naked across the countryside to be here, Lizzy – ”

“Fitzy, that’s enough now.” She flashed him a warning look. “Well?”

“I think … I think … I need some fresh air. Yes, that’s what I need. I’ll just go outside for a moment. I do apologise, my dear. I will be back presently.”

And with that, Elizabeth was abandoned by her husband for the second time in a matter of minutes. But much to her surprise, he reappeared at her side almost immediately. His jacket was now torn, but at least he had brushed the mud off his boots. He was perspiring heavily and he seemed a little distracted, constantly looking up at the skylight.

“I know he’s up there somewhere,” he said.

“Who, dear? Fitzy darling, you are behaving in the most abominably queer manner this evening!”

“Elizabeth, there is a man on the roof!”

“That’s it, Fitzy, you’ve gone doolally. First of all you talk about being kept in a dungeon and running around naked and now you say there’s a man on the roof. You are clearly unwell. I really think you should – ”

But she didn’t manage to complete her advice, because at that moment, there was the sound of breaking glass above them, causing everyone on the dance floor to dive for cover to avoid being pierced by the shards. Elizabeth looked up to see a man sliding down a rope attached to the ceiling waving a sword in a heroic manner.

“Wickham?” she said, unable to believe the evidence of her eyes.