“Obviously, the author of this book never met a real vampire,” she mumbled.
Unimpressed, she carefully returned the book to its place. Next, she selected
Tales of the Vampire,
containing the poem “DerVampir” by Heinrich August Ossenfelder, Gottried August Bürger’s “Lenore,” and Goethe’s ballad “Die Braut von Korinth.” Elizabeth slipped that book under her arm.
Now on a mission, she began to select others. She pulled out one on pagan worship of the
upyri,
adding it to her growing stack.
Vampires: Folklore and Myth
became her next choice because it included a chapter on how to prevent the corpse from turning into an undead revenant.
Maybe something other than removing the head,
she thought.
Suddenly, Georgiana rejoined her, having made her selection. “Elizabeth, what are you doing?” Georgiana hissed, seeing the subject of her choices.
Elizabeth eyeballed the seller, who was close by. “If you would
choose a book of poems by Sir Walter Scott, I will bring our other choices to the counter.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Darcy.”The man disappeared into the depths of the store.
When he was out of earshot, Elizabeth took Georgiana by the arm. “I saw all these books, and I needed to read them, to know more.This may sound bizarre, but I believe that we need to
confront
Wickham, not wait for him to come to us.The thing is….we know little about vampires. For example, how does this iron crucifix work? When Wickham kidnapped me, I wore this cross. It prevented him from making me one of his own, but it did not stop him.Why? These books are filled perhaps with facts, perhaps with myths and legends—things we do not know. When we arrive at Pemberley, I plan to start compiling all the specifics we know about Mr.Wickham. Maybe from the compilation and from these books we might have a better idea of how to rid ourselves of the curse.”
Georgiana wanted to believe in what her new sister proposed. “Do you actually think it possible?”
Elizabeth reasoned, “What have we to lose? The cost of a few books?”
Georgiana looked about, making sure that no one was near. “We cannot simply buy books on vampires. The man knows our name; he may talk.”
“We will choose a variety, suggesting that we are looking for information on local well-dressing ceremonies. Let us choose some Celtic folklore to make the ruse more believable. We will say that with your brother’s marriage, he feels a new responsibility to the village traditions and beliefs.”
“You are so clever,” Georgiana remarked.“No wonder my dear brother loves you.”
“Let us hurry, Georgiana.You choose some on Celtic religion and maybe one on Scottish beliefs and culture. I will pick out a few more of these.”
Georgiana moved along the aisle to the religious tomes. Quickly, she made three choices.
Elizabeth, meanwhile, selected two more volumes. To balance out her search, she chose a history of Scotland and a similar one on the British Empire. Impulsively, she even selected a novel by Mrs. Ratcliffe, trying to create an eclectic look to her choices.
Just as she reached the end of the aisle to turn towards the front, she spotted a book lying on the floor. The old man treated each book he touched with reverence, so she wondered if Georgiana had unknowingly dropped it. Jostling the stack she carried, Elizabeth bent down gingerly to retrieve the volume from the floor. Bringing it up with her, she laughed when she saw the title:
Apotropaics
. “How appropriate,” she murmured, and added it to her choices. Perhaps the book would fulfill the promise of its title and turn away evil from their lives.
Arms loaded, Elizabeth made her way through the twists and turns of the shelving. Arriving at the front, she found Georgiana pacing back and forth. “Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam must be waiting by now. He will be frantic.”
“Go, then,” she urged her.“Take Belton and hurry to meet your brother. I will wait here for the two of you.”
Georgiana was already moving towards the door.“Are you sure?”
“Of course. I will be fine. I will take care of the transaction. With your permission, I shall have your choice for His Lordship and mine for Papa sent to Overton House; the others I will forward on to Pemberley.”
“Fitzwilliam and I will return momentarily.”Then her sister was gone, hurrying towards the waiting carriage.
CHAPTER 14
When a distracted Georgiana stepped off the walkway to cross the street, she took no note of the broken slat of its wooden frame. She stepped fully on it, and a protruding nail easily penetrated her day slippers.“Ow!” she screeched, before limping out of the way of the street traffic.
She fought back tears as Belton rushed to her side. “Miss Darcy,” he inquired urgently,“are you hurt?”
“I do not think I can walk,” she whispered.
“Shall I carry you, Miss?”
“My brother would be furious,” Georgiana responded. “Help me to the bench behind me, and then go find my brother. Have the carriage come here.”
Belton straightened before protesting, “Mr. Darcy will not like my leaving both you and Mrs. Darcy behind.”
“Belton, my foot is bleeding into my slipper. Now, hurry, please.”
Belton helped her take a few steps to the bench outside the storefront.“I will return with the carriage and your brother, Miss.” The man took off at a near run.
Elizabeth thumbed through the book she had found on the floor as the clerk totaled her purchases and prepared them for shipping to Derbyshire. She noted references to the crucifix, the rosary, and holy water, as well as beliefs about mirrors. She remembered Wickham’s blurry reflection in the window in Meryton, and suddenly things made sense. Darcy had told her about using the vial of holy water when Wickham approached Georgiana at Ramsgate. On another page, she discovered the Germans believed the head should be buried between the feet to release the soul.
It seems as though Darcy was right on that point,
she thought.
Flipping the page again, her eyes fell on a picture of a woman holding a crucifix and a vampire backing away. She thought how foolish the drawing appeared until she read the caption: “Say the vampire’s name backwards as you bring forth the crucifix.”
Well,
she thought,
I wonder if that would do the trick
?
Elizabeth closed the book and slid it towards the clerk.“This is quite an agglomerate,” the old man said with amusement.
“My father reads everything having to do with Scottish beliefs, folklore, and customs,” she lied.“I thought to share these with him after I learn more about the beginnings of the well-dressing ceremonies. I understand them to be based on ancient pagan customs. Mr. Darcy and I only recently married, and I have yet to see his estate; I do not want the villagers to judge my ignorance on such traditions as being a poor reflection on my husband.”
“That is admirable, Mrs. Darcy,” the man observed as he stacked the items. The shopkeeper picked up the last two books. “And these are to be delivered to Overton House?”
“Yes, that is exactly what I need.”
Georgiana’s attention was focused on her injury. She expected her brother or her new sister to appear at any moment, so when George Wickham slid in beside her on the bench, she was too startled to react at first—and then it was too late to respond.
Wickham waited until the street was momentarily deserted before he made his appearance, and then he was suddenly next to her, with a knife aimed right above her kidneys. He whispered softly to her before she turned her head, “I missed you, Georgiana.” She turned immediately, and Wickham took great pleasure in watching the terror spread across her face.“We have unfinished business, my dear.” He brushed his lips across her cheek. “Have I ever told you how you remind me of someone I once loved? Now, be a good girl and stand slowly.We are going to step into the alley.” He watched her face as possible ways to escape ran through her mind.Wickham was used to this scenario and expected it. “Do not consider it, my
dear,” he warned.“I have a knife poised at your side. I can either kill you right here before I disappear, or you may come with me and join me in eternal life.The choice is yours.”
Georgiana did not move, so Wickham took her arm and pulled her to her feet.“You will join in the pleasure,” he taunted her, while directing her to the shadowy alley. “I look forward to this, Georgiana. I have waited a long time.” Trancelike, she walked beside him, never looking back.
As Elizabeth stepped from the bookstore, she found neither husband nor carriage. “Where can they be?” she mused out loud. “Surely Georgiana and Belton are at the coach by now. Maybe Mr. Darcy was late.” Impatient, as usual, Elizabeth began to pace along the walkway. It was not like Darcy to be late; never had she known him to be late for anything. Agitated, she took off at a steady pace, searching both sides of the street for her husband, Georgiana, or even one of the servants in the Darcy livery.
Reaching the alley, a flash of color along a row of boxes caught her eye, and, intuitively, Elizabeth turned towards the bright object.
It is Georgiana’s slipper! How did
it
get there? And where is
she? Impulsively, she rushed forward to retrieve it.
The overhang of the buildings blocked out the little winter sun the day offered, and the alley itself, although not totally black, was heavily draped in shadows. “Georgiana?” she called, and then listened before stepping farther into the opening. Nothing moved in the empty alleyway, and Elizabeth turned to leave, but then a muffled whimper froze her in place.
“Georgiana!” she yelled louder, before charging into the dusky obscurity.
As if a theatrical light were thrown on the scene, Elizabeth stared in horror at the tableau playing out before her. Georgiana, wide-eyed, stood in the narrow, gloom-filled passageway.Wickham held one hand over her mouth and the other wrapped around her waist, and although her efforts were in vain because her hands were tied behind her back, Georgiana struggled to free herself. Wickham’s
mouth was poised above the indentation of her sister’s neck and shoulder.
“Step away from her, Wickham!” Elizabeth’s voice rebounded off the brick walls.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Wickham raised his head but did not release his captive. “You can be next, but you must wait your turn, my dear. Your lovely sister is ahead of you.”
Elizabeth squared her shoulders. She must protect Darcy’s sister at all cost. If she could delay the wretched creature who was hovering over Georgiana, maybe Darcy would arrive in time to help her. She spoke slowly and loudly:“I
said
to let her
go!
”
“If you insist,” Wickham said and he laughed, but he did not slacken his hold on Georgiana.“You may go first, Elizabeth.”
“I am not
Elizabeth
to you,” she insisted. Taking a smaller step forward and lifting the chain from around her neck, exposing the jeweled cross, Elizabeth continued, “You will remove your hands from Mr. Darcy’s sister.”
He challenged, “Do you really think that pitiful little crucifix has any effect on me?”
“Actually, I do believe it does,” she asserted. “If not, you would have had
me,
back at the Netherfield Manor House.” She extended the cross in front of her for protection. “I think, Mr.Wickham, the reason Georgiana is still alive is because she wears a similar crucifix.”
“
This
thing?”Wickham used his hand to flick at the chain, but Elizabeth noted he did not touch the cross.
Realizing she needed to give Georgiana hope if they stood a chance of getting out of the situation alive, Elizabeth addressed Darcy’s sister directly: “Georgiana, you must believe in your brother. And the crucifix protects you as long as you wear it.” She watched with satisfaction as the terror on the girl’s face diminished. “Your brother would do anything to protect you; continue to believe in him.”
Wickham jerked Georgiana closer. As he feared, Elizabeth Bennet was a calming force for the Darcys, making them stronger opponents.
“Why do you care if I take her?” Wickham countercharged. “I swore to take
one
of each generation. If Miss Darcy is my choice, that leaves you and your beloved Fitzwilliam to your happiness. Why not take the freedom you will earn with her death?” He wrenched Georgiana’s head to the side to expose her neck once again.
“Because we all swore to end the curse our ancestors began,” Elizabeth said coolly.
“
Our
ancestors?”Wickham repeated sneeringly.
Elizabeth smiled.“Do you really not know that Arawn Benning was my ancestor, just as Ellender D’Arcy was Fitzwilliam’s? How ignorant you are! It is Fate that brings my dear husband and me together.You cannot defeat us,Wickham,” she insisted.
“Yet I can still exact my revenge.”
Elizabeth tried to stall, tried to think of something to frighten Wickham away. She still clutched the crucifix before her.Then she thought of the diagram from the book. “Wickham George!” she called out as she took a step forward.
Wickham did not turn a hair. “My followers call me
My lord
. You may do so when you join me.”
“Pigs will sprout wings first.” Elizabeth’s mind raced.
If Darcy were coming, he would be here by now. Reverse the letters. Visualize Wickham’s name and reverse the letters.
It was a silly thought, but why not try it? “Mahkicw Egroeg!” she tried.
“Gibberish, Mrs. Darcy?” Wickham inquired mockingly. “You are grasping at straws, my dear.” He lowered his voice and spoke in an intimate tone: “Taking
you
will double my pleasure—revenge on both the D’Arcys and the Bennings in one fell swoop.”
Darcy bounded from the coach almost before it could stop. Belton jumped from the rear perch. Both men looked to the bench where the footman had left Georgiana.“Where is she?” Darcy demanded.
“I do not know, Mr. Darcy,” the servant stammered, afraid for both his position and for the girl he left sitting on the sidewalk bench. “Perhaps Mrs. Darcy took your sister into the bookstore to
tend to her wound where no one could see.”