Vampire Darcy's Desire (17 page)

“You gave me a taste of the life I could never know otherwise,” he blurted out.

“I did nothing.”

He continued, as if checking off items from a list.“Do what you must do to protect yourself from Wickham. You must convince everyone that you hate me.”

Elizabeth fought back tears. “Everyone but me,” she whispered softly to his back.

As Darcy had anticipated, George Wickham, along with Mr. Denny, made a late afternoon call on the Bennet household. Stepping into the room with her eldest sister, Elizabeth felt nauseated by Wickham’s presence, but she hid her contempt for Darcy’s sake. Receiving the creature who had forced Darcy to leave made her want to scream in frustration, but she schooled her countenance into the semblance of a smile.

“Mr.Wickham.” She offered her hand, and he kissed the back of it. Elizabeth fought the urge to scrub away his touch.

“Miss Elizabeth, we came at once to assure ourselves of your well-being,” Wickham began. “I chastised myself for not having seen you home.The horror of such a discovery!”

Elizabeth gritted her teeth in disgust.“It was incomprehensible
at the time, but I am recovering.”

Mr. Denny took the seat to which Jane gestured. “Colonel Forster, Ma’am, is conducting a thorough investigation.”

“I hope the woman finds peace in that.” Elizabeth and Jane settled together on a settee.

“You were missed at Mrs. Philips’s gathering,” Denny continued.

“It was not appropriate,” Jane declared,“under the circumstances.”

Wickham wasted no time in getting to the reason for his visit.“I understand, Miss Elizabeth, that Mr. Darcy served as your rescuer.”

“Mr. Darcy was a gentleman in the way he aided my sister,” Jane asserted.

Mr. Denny concurred,“I would expect nothing less from a man of Mr. Darcy’s lineage.”

“Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley found me when I was most distraught; they both stepped in to protect me. Mr. Darcy was the first to reach me, so he became my initial source of comfort. I clung to him unreasonably, I am ashamed to say. He allowed me time to recuperate.”

Jane took Elizabeth’s hand in hers. “Lizzy, you were so overwrought; it was natural, and Mr. Darcy is a responsible young man.”

Elizabeth noted how Wickham’s eyes searched for the truth in their faces.With distaste for her task, she spoke again, giving Wickham the opinion he sought. “I am thankful for both Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy; and although my gratitude to both men is of the highest order, I openly admit I would give anything not to be indebted to Mr. Darcy.”

“Elizabeth!” Jane protested.

Having watched Wickham take the bait, Elizabeth continued, “The man leaves Hertfordshire soon, and I will not be among those counted as wishing he stays. He repeatedly showed himself as superior to the rest of the country, and I shall be happy to see him go.”

“You know how I feel about Mr. Darcy,”Wickham interjected. “He does not belong in civilized company.”

Jane started to object, but Elizabeth cut off her words by ordering tea for the group.When it arrived, she changed the subject to
their aunt’s social the previous evening. Darcy warned her about “protesting too much.” Wickham would see through her plan if she
harped
on Darcy’s faults.

The visit lasted less than an hour, but for Elizabeth it was a lifetime. When the gentlemen stood to leave, relief set in. “The colonel asked me to see to paperwork for the unit in London; I absent myself with regret, Miss Elizabeth,” said Wickham.

“Will you not be at Mr. Bingley’s ball?” Jane inquired with interest, thinking Elizabeth might find Mr.Wickham appealing.

“I cannot say, Miss Bennet.The colonel knows I am well familiar with London; he has several tasks for me to complete there.”

Elizabeth could not make herself say the words she knew she should offer him to maintain the ruse. All she could say was,“Your absence will be felt, Mr. Wickham.” It was the truth, and that was better than a lie.Wickham’s absence meant she might spend a few minutes with Darcy before he left Hertfordshire and her forever.

As he promised, Darcy refused to call on Elizabeth, even when Bingley encouraged him to do otherwise. “I will not see Miss Elizabeth; it would seem as if I courted the woman.”

He made sure the garlands arrived in the afternoon. Darcy knew Elizabeth would anxiously open the packages, and she would know disappointment when she found no necklace. He promised to send it, but when the time came, he withdrew, afraid someone else might see it. He could not put Elizabeth in such a position.

Instead, he took it to her himself. Darcy sent the same trusted footman to the nearest township to find a competent jeweler and mercantile. He removed the crucifix he wore and gave it to the man with orders for the jeweler to duplicate it, creating a replacement for Darcy. Then he ordered an array of loose diamonds and emeralds set into the metal of the one he already owned. He would risk being without one for a few days to protect Elizabeth. The footman paid the merchant well to complete the work on the one
for Elizabeth in a few precious hours. In addition, Darcy’s orders included a new fur-lined cloak for her.

In the middle of the night, he paid her a visit. He did not wake Elizabeth, although his desire to kiss her ruled his body. He stood in the center of the room, staring down at her.When she rolled over and snuggled into a pillow, he smiled with remembrances of her wrapping her arms and legs around his.“You are beautiful,Vixen,” he murmured. “Now, let us see if this works.” He set the package holding the cloak and the necklace on the end of her bed, and then Darcy turned slowly in place three times, extending his arms level to his shoulders. “Forget…remember…forget…remember…forget…remember,” he chanted as an aura of blue light spread through the room, like fingers caressing every corner. “Forget the old.”The light continued to surge through the walls, filling each of the rooms in succession.“Remember the new.” The light turned in on itself and rolled back towards him, having touched all in the sleeping Bennet household. “Forget the old. Remember the new,” he repeated once more, turning counterclockwise to pull in his power. Like the swooshing crack of a whip, the energy balled itself into the pit of his stomach and disappeared within him. Darcy sank to his knees in exhaustion.

He remained slumped over for several minutes, devoid of feeling. Then he pushed himself to a standing position, although he held onto the bedpost for support.At last, he moved beside the bed to take in her image before he left. She had captured his eye—his
imagination
—from the beginning. Despite her tenacious spirit, her innocence moved him; oh, to be the man who won her heart! Elizabeth created in him a need to protect and shelter her, but also a desire to possess her completely. Under other circumstances, she would be his destiny—his
wife.
“Wear the gifts with pleasure, Vixen,” he murmured and then touched her auburn tresses before leaving her to the end of a dream.

Returning to Netherfield, he sat in his room for hours, staring into the fire, finishing off more than one glass of brandy. Since he had met Elizabeth Bennet, he had engaged in unseemly behavior,
insinuating himself into her life and tempting her modesty. They had slept in the same bed, more than once; they had shared kisses, some quite intimate; they had flirted with each other shamelessly. And he had used his powers; first, creating a privacy of which no one knew, and now, giving Elizabeth gifts others would think of as having always been hers. She could wear both the cloak and the necklace openly.

His use of his supernatural abilities surprised even himself. Wickham had used such powers against Georgiana—enchanting her—making her know nothing but what the cad desired. Until recently, Darcy had considered his powers part of the evil he fought in himself every day. Then he had reconsidered that position. But the truth was that he had used the same powers Wickham had to control his victims.With a twisted grin, Darcy now wondered,
How different am I from George Wickham?

 

Elizabeth woke to find the package at the end of her bed.
He was here!
In her sleep, she felt him in the room, watching over her. Fascinated, she sat up in bed and took the box upon her lap. She let her fingers caress the ribbon, imagining his tying it off, knowing no other hands had touched it but his. She brought her fingertips to her lips and sensed his kiss lightly on her mouth.

Then, very slowly, savoring each moment, Elizabeth untied the knot and peeled the ribbon back from the package. She would keep it in the drawer next to his handkerchief. Unfolding the paper, she gasped upon seeing the cloak. It was a deep forest green; she had never saw seen anything so fine. She stood up on the mattress, bouncing a bit in happiness as she swept it from the wrapping and draped it around her. For warmth, white rabbit fur trimmed the hood and cuffs. Elizabeth ran her fingers over it, enjoying the softness.

Immediately, she dropped to her knees on the bed, still wrapped in the cloak. She fished into the bottom of the layers of paper and found a jeweler’s box, along with a note. She unwrapped the small box slowly; she knew what it contained.The jeweler’s box cracked
with a faint squeak of unoiled hinges. She gasped audibly when she saw it: a jeweled crucifix, covered in perfectly matched diamonds and emeralds.

She undid the chain and hooked it around her neck.The cool metal burned against her skin. She kissed the back of it and let it drop; it nestled between the rise of her breasts.The jewels disguised the base iron of the design, but Elizabeth knew Darcy sent it as protection from Wickham. The night she and Darcy discussed the curse, he told her the legend behind the Baobhan Síth—how they killed a group of men but one man escaped because he hid between the horses—the iron horseshoes protected him from their vampire attack. Elizabeth felt safer just putting it on—an amulet to protect her.

Finally, she unfolded the note and read—her fingertips followed along as if the letters rose up and touched her:

Elizabeth refolded the note.Without thinking, she brought it to her face and inhaled. It smelled of him—of sandalwood and maleness.
She breathed deeply, bringing images of Darcy to mind. Clutching the necklace in the palm of her hand, she swept the cloak from around her and draped it over her body as she slipped back down into the bed linens to sleep again—to dream of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

“Lizzy, I
cannot
wait for the ball this evening. Just three short hours away, Sister! It will be so
glorious
to dance at Netherfield. Do you not think so?” Kitty twirled around the room, holding her dress to her as she did.

Elizabeth looked forward to the evening, for she would see Darcy again, but she dreaded it also, for after tonight, he would be gone from Hertfordshire—and from her life. How would she bear it? “It is to be hoped that Mr. Bingley continues his preference for our dear Jane, and that you and Lydia have numerous partners to satisfy your tastes,” Elizabeth said sadly.

“And what of you, Lizzy? Do you want a special dance partner to sweep you off your feet?” Elizabeth immediately thought of Darcy, but she forced images of waltzing with him away.“Maybe Mr.Wickham has returned from London. Do you wish him as a partner?” Kitty collapsed in a heap of silken material at Elizabeth’s feet.