Vampire Darcy's Desire

by Regina Jeffers

  “Good afternoon, Lizzy.” Her mother looked up quickly, distracted by the hustle and bustle of a busy household. “Where are you headed?”

  “I believe I will go out to the barn and feed the new horse an apple or two.” Elizabeth pulled her shawl tightly around her shoulders.

  Her mother’s expression changed, and her voice rose in contempt. “Our dear Jane was played poorly by Mr. Bingley. Have you spoken to her? She took breakfast in her room.”

  “Give her time, Mama; Jane will come around,” Elizabeth murmured.

  “Well, I wish the man a dreadful stay in London. He treated your sister ill, and I may never forgive him.”

  Elizabeth could not help but agree with her mother’s sentiments; Mr. Bingley should not be so easily persuaded! Mr. Hill opened the door to bring in some wood for the fire, and Elizabeth took the opportunity to leave.To avoid telling another lie, she did go to the barn, and, finding Ceres in one of the open stalls, she fed the animal an apple from the barrel. “Afternoon, my lovely,” she whispered softly into the horse’s ear as she petted its nose gently.“I plan to find Mr. Darcy,” she confided in the animal, wanting to be able to say the words out loud.Then she rushed to the open door and clung to the side of the barn, making her way to the back of the structure. Knowing no one would see her if she walked a straight line from the barn to the far-off hedgerow until she was more than halfway across the now-barren field, Elizabeth did not break into a run until she reached the midpoint, hoping to evade

  Assured that Darcy saw had seen her coming before he dropped back into the tree line, Elizabeth skirted the stile on the far-off hedgerow and plunged into the woods. She saw him turn towards Netherfield, leading away from the house. Impetuously, she called to him, but he did not answer, simply moving ahead.

  Elizabeth quickened her pace, but he remained a focal point, not a reality. No matter how fast she moved, he seemed to continue on at an equal distance from her. She called out again, but he did not hear. So Elizabeth simply followed, doing the only thing she could do—keep him in sight. When he turned suddenly towards the manor house, she smiled, knowing he led her to their secret place. Darcy, she thought, probably relished the idea that she would foolishly follow him just because he appeared on the outskirts of her father’s property. She knew she played to his vanity with her actions, but his teasing always intrigued her.

  At the door, he turned to look back at her. Elizabeth saw the corners of his mouth turn up in a smile, and then he slipped inside. Moments later, Elizabeth crossed the threshold. Calling out his name, she rushed forward into the room, and then—then time stopped—her heartbeat ceased when she saw what stood before her.

  A whimper escaped her lips, but no other sound was heard in the empty house. Leaning casually against the mantle of the cold hearth, George Wickham nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I fear your precious Fitzwilliam is not here, Miss Elizabeth.” His voice sounded to her ears like that of the snake in the Garden of Eden.

  She swallowed hard and wondered whether, if she broke into a run, she could clear the deserted path before he caught her.Wickham noted the twitch in her eye.“Do not consider it, my dear; you will never make it,” he warned. Neither of them moved as he continued his taunt. “Obviously, your Mr. Darcy never told you I possess unique abilities. How easily you were deceived into thinking I was your lover!”

  “Mr. Darcy and I are not lovers!” she protested, while she tried to formulate a plan for escape.

  “What do you call this rendezvous, Miss Elizabeth? There are remnants of a picnic lunch and a blanket in the other room.You call the man by his given name, my dear. What does that sound like to you?” He dropped his arms to his sides and edged forward as he spoke.

  Feeling the sudden stillness of the room, Elizabeth gingerly stepped back, but she never took her eyes from his face. “Mr. Darcy gave me riding lessons; that was all there was between us.”

  “If you say so, Miss Elizabeth.” He eyed her mockingly.“Yet you provide me with a unique opportunity, and I exist for such prospects.Whether you return his feelings or not, your Mr. Darcy never showed a partiality to any woman until you. I make it my business to know Darcy’s weaknesses. Other than his sister, Darcy cares for no one; he has never allowed himself such a pleasure. Then, all at once, he—by your own admission—is giving you riding lessons, waltzing with you on a private balcony, kissing your tempting lips, and rescuing you from unknown terrors.You did like how I staged that one, did you not?” he taunted.“I am sure he was the one who placed the wreaths and the iron ornaments about your home.They only served to confirm my earlier suspicions.”

  Elizabeth furtively reached for the jeweled crucifix she wore at her neck.Wickham took note of the slight shift in her stance.

  “Did your lover give you the Christian symbol to protect you from me?” Again, he inched closer to her, while Elizabeth countered his movement with a retreat of her own.

  “I purchased this crucifix,” she asserted.

  “Do not try to mislead me, Miss Elizabeth. I am not so easily deceived. I saw Miss Darcy wear a similar one after my special evening with her, so I am aware of the source of your enchantment. Mr. Darcy hopes to protect you.” By now, Wickham was near enough to reach her if he so wished; yet his hands remained at his sides; she stayed alert for his attack. “It will be a pleasure to take you from Darcy. It will be a revenge like no other; he is the first of his family to dare to challenge me, and I do not like to lose, Miss Elizabeth.”

  She shivered. “Mr. Darcy is gone.” She hoped her words might

  “My carnage?” Wickham sounded amused. “Two females hardly rates as carnage, Miss Elizabeth.” He finally reached out to her, lightly tracing a line along her jaw to her mouth. Elizabeth wanted to bite his hand, but she was sure that Wickham would enjoy it too much.“I must congratulate you, Miss Elizabeth; Darcy grew stronger with you by his side. That display last evening at Netherfield would never have been possible six months ago. So, you see, my dear, I must stop your power over Darcy. It will kill him to know that he left you to me.The fact will eat away at him. Plus, eliminating you will keep his powers in check.Whether he is here to see your demise or not will make little difference. I will make sure he learns of your tragic end.”

  Elizabeth knew that she must do something or die at his hands. A flash of humor crossed his expression as she broke away from him, shoving furniture into his path as she attempted an escape. Just as she reached the door, grabbing it to pull it open, Wickham appeared behind her. An iron grip took hold of her arm as his left hand shoved the door closed. He pulled her back into him, breathing into Elizabeth’s hair.“Good,” he hissed,“I was afraid you might not fight me. I prefer my followers to be spirited.”

  Elizabeth struggled and flailed, trying to dislodge his hold on her, but Wickham’s grip simply tightened around her waist. “My, you are a spit-fire,” he said and laughed. “It is no wonder Darcy prefers you.”

  She screamed as he half lifted, half dragged her towards the stairs. Elizabeth scratched at him and fought him, but her efforts were futile. Wickham overpowered her. Halfway up the stairs, he halted suddenly and violently pulled her face within inches of his. “I would give anything to see Darcy’s face when he discovers I took you in the bedroom of the manor house at Netherfield. It will be a delightful revenge.” Wickham pulled her mouth to his and kissed her with such force that he bruised her lips.

  Elizabeth’s stomach turned. She strained against him, releasing

  “The first course?” His hand turned her chin roughly, and he licked the blood from her mouth.“Thank you, my dear.”Wickham started forward again, dragging her behind him.

  CHAPTER 10

  Darcy sat with the Bingleys at the posting inn. Caroline Bingley needed her refreshment, although they had traveled only a few miles from her brother’s estate. At this rate, they might never reach London.The woman who wanted to be as far from Netherfield as humanly possible only a few hours earlier now seemed content to drink h
er tea and command the servants to indulge her every whim. All Darcy heard from the time they left Meryton was how Charles and Georgiana would make an eminently suitable match. Louisa Hurst had traveled with her husband to his Hampshire estate, so it was just the three of them.

  Bingley miserably shifted his weight with each of his sister’s remarks.As much as Darcy admired Bingley, he would hope to find a different sort of match for Georgiana. He had considered a match between the genial Charles Bingley and his very shy sister when he first met the man, but within the hour of meeting, Darcy had abandoned those hopes. Although real affection existed between his best friend and his sister, Darcy knew they could never be happy together—and he wanted both of them to be happy. Charles had glowed with love when he met Jane Bennet; Darcy hoped the man would resist his sister’s manipulations and find true love.

  Thoughts of Charles and Jane Bennet brought Darcy’s thoughts back to Elizabeth. He wondered how she had reacted when she saw Ceres on her lawn. Elizabeth’s eyes had danced with excitement; of that he was sure. A secret smile formed with the thought of her riding the horse he had given her and wearing the habit he had purchased for her.

  At first, when the family livery passed by him, Darcy did not see it because Elizabeth’s countenance consumed his consciousness, but as the man took the food the innkeeper gave him and neared

  “Lucas!” Darcy called as the man strode past.

  Lucas Stamson skidded to a halt upon hearing his employer’s voice. “Mr. Darcy,” he said as he turned towards the sound. “I was on my way to find you, Sir. I stopped to change horses because the other one took on a stone.”

  Darcy approached him. “What is wrong, Lucas? Is something the matter with Miss Darcy?”

  “No…no, Sir. Miss Darcy was well when I left her, Sir.”

  Darcy allowed himself to breathe again.“Then what is it, Lucas? Why are you here?”

  The groomsman searched in the pouch he carried around his neck and drew out a note. “Miss Darcy bid me bring this to you with the utmost speed, Sir.”

  Darcy snatched the letter from the man’s outstretched hand. “Thank you, Lucas. I will be with you in a moment.”

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy.” The man retreated into the shadows of the public room, while Darcy made his way to a window to use the natural light to read.

  Fitzwilliam,

  Mrs.Annesley woke this morning in a dreadful agitation, and she begged me to convey what she knows to you.As she was able to see George Wickham’s attack on me, my faithful companion’s Sight has shown a new attack. I do not know of whom she speaks or the place, but Mrs.Annesley is sure you will comprehend what eludes me.

  Mrs.Annesley describes an abandoned house, although it was once a fine home.Within the house, she sees a forsaken picnic basket, of all things.Yet more important, Mr. Wickham is there with a petite, auburn-haired woman.

  Save her, Fitzwilliam. Mrs.Annesley believes the woman is the answer to our family’s problems; she is your future. I hope that this

  God be with you, Brother,

  Georgiana

  Darcy’s throat tightened and he gasped for air. Elizabeth! Could Wickham have Elizabeth? I abandoned her! he chastised himself. “Lucas!” he shouted.

  “Yes, Mr. Darcy.”The servant appeared immediately.

  “Did you order a fresh horse?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Get it, man. I need to leave at once.”The servant scrambled to do his bidding. Darcy’s thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of what he needed to do. Mrs. Annesley had saved Georgiana; with her warning and with luck, he would reach Elizabeth in time. Impatient for action, he returned to the table. “Bingley, a situation has arisen that I must attend to. Lucas will ride back to London with you.”

  “Of course, Darcy.” Bingley hastened to his feet. “May I help somehow?”

  Darcy headed towards the door, consumed by his need to reach Elizabeth. “It is a family matter,” he told Bingley. “I must go.”Then he bounded from the room to find the waiting groomsman.“Ride back to London with Mr. Bingley,” he ordered as he mounted, and then Darcy rode off towards Hertfordshire. He did not care that both Bingley and Caroline noted the direction he took. Neither of them spoke of it, however, as they boarded Bingley’s chaise and four.

  Darcy rode low in the saddle, trying to speed his way back to her. His senses told him Elizabeth was indeed in dire straits. He reproached himself for leaving, but he never broke stride. He prayed for God to protect her, but he never broke stride. He cursed the Fate that placed her in danger, but he never broke stride.When he rode onto the graveled pathway leading to the manor house, the horse was lathered in foam. Darcy slid from the saddle, hurriedly tied his horse to a post, and ran to the house.

  He burst through the front door, begging not to be too late.

  A thump—a muffled sound from above—told him where she was. Leaping over the lower banister, he bolted up the stairs. Breathlessly, he swung the door open.As it banged against the wall, a terrible drama opened up in front of him. Elizabeth’s limbs—her arms and her legs—were tied to the four posts of the bed. She was stripped down to her chemise—her face rigid with terror from what she experienced at Wickham’s hands. Her shining eyes, misted with tears, flooded his heart with anguish.Wickham himself sat in a wing chair next to the bed. He caressed Elizabeth’s arm lightly with his fingertips.

  “Darcy? You came back.” Wickham’s smile increased by the moment; the changing scenario pleased him. “It is as I said, Miss Elizabeth; he cares for you.”

  Tears streamed from Elizabeth’s eyes.“I am sorry, Fitzwilliam.”A slight shake of his head told her he did not blame her; Darcy blamed only himself.

  “Leave her be, Wickham; you seek me.” Darcy’s eyes searched the room, trying to find a way to save Elizabeth.

  Wickham stood casually; to taunt Darcy, he ran a fingertip along Elizabeth’s breasts. “Of course, I want you, Darcy, but not enough to give up Miss Elizabeth. You would gladly die in her stead, but that is just it; you would gladly die. In fact, you want to die to end this. However, when I kill the woman you love, that will hurt you.”

  Wickham spoke the truth. Darcy would happily sacrifice himself to save Elizabeth.With no other choice and without preamble, Darcy grasped the sword tightly and charged the apparition lurking beside the bed. Barely two steps into the room, a jolt of gale force winds hit his chest, sending his body flying through the air like a rag doll—and like a rag doll, Darcy slithered down the wall in apparent defeat.The rapier skidded away towards the bed.

  “Close your eyes, Elizabeth,” he ordered as he staggered to his feet. Darcy brought his arms out to his sides and pivoted to bring forth the power within him; Wickham was strong, but Darcy would not die until Elizabeth was free. It was suicide to attack Wickham; however, he vowed to end this, and end it he would. His death would mean life for Elizabeth. She depended on him; and her determination—her passion—made him strong. Like Wickham’s wind, Darcy’s light held an energy of its own—potent and formidable. It bent Wickham backwards, knocking him from his feet and momentarily blinding him with its power.

  Shielding his eyes, Wickham teetered for a moment before regaining control. Mockingly, he challenged,“Excellent, Darcy, but you are still no match for me.” Again, a whirlwind skittered across the hardwood floor towards Darcy, followed by a biting, sucking sound intended to rip the skin from his body.

  Intuitively, Darcy tucked and rolled away, trying to draw the power away from where Elizabeth lay. Attempting to free herself, she wriggled, but for naught.The knots held her captive to whatever would come.

  As he escaped the evil sent at him by Wickham, Darcy grabbed the rapier, which was resting by the foot of the bed. Excitement swirled around them—shadows prowled the corners of the room as he and Wickham evaluated the situation.Their bodies tensed—their muscles flexed for response—their hearts pounded in their ears. Steel grey eyes met ice blue ones, and pure energy crackled between them.The minutest movement too
k on great importance. The only noise in the room was Elizabeth’s shuddered breathing. And as quickly as the battle had stopped, it began again.Wickham lunged to reach him first, and, mechanically, from his place on the floor, Darcy plunged the sword into Wickham’s chest, pushing up on it to open the wound more.

  Wickham’s face contorted in obvious surprise, knowing the folly of his attack on Darcy. “Die!” Darcy roared as he clamored to his feet, pushing the rapier deeper into Wickham’s heart.

  Wickham snarled a smile—a mixture of pain and defiance. you, Darcy.” With a mocking salute and a blast of absolute power, the whole room swirled—rotated. Darcy grabbed for the four-poster, diving onto the bed to protect Elizabeth at all costs.

  “I have you,” he growled as he draped himself over her.

  Within seconds, it was over. Silence ruled where chaos had been.The room stood still, and the roar of the wind miraculously vanished. Only the echoing sound of the broken sword hitting the floor remained in the room. For Darcy, the darkness of a moment ago disappeared with the sunlight of knowing Elizabeth to be alive.

  Her muffled cough brought him back to reality. Darcy rolled from her, straining to right himself and his world. “Elizabeth?” He pushed the hair from her face.“Elizabeth!” He kissed the side of her face, needing to feel her closeness. “Tell me you are well.” He caressed her jaw line in the palm of his hand, searching for the woman he cherished.

  Sounding frightened and a bit childlike, she managed to whisper, “You came. I thought you were gone.”

  “Oh,Vixen,” he moaned as he drank of her lips tenderly.“I will explain it later.” His mouth rested only inches above hers. “We must leave now.”

  Elizabeth nodded, unsure what it all meant, but glad to be back in his arms again. Darcy reached for the knots that held her.“Please tell me the blackguard did not—harm you.”

  “Just frightened me, Fitzwilliam.”

  She watched his face contort with self-blame as he loosened each of the bindings. Gently, Darcy massaged the welts. “How can you ever forgive me?” he whispered before kissing the inside of each wrist.“How may I make this up to you?”