Ewan did not reply, he only sunk his teeth deeply into the boy’s exposed throat, sending a spray of blood upwards, spattering the others where they watched.
Within moments, the friends of the fallen boy had reached for their rifles in an attempt to fend off the attack. All of the suspicions about the boys of Polwys Tor were true. Fearing for their lives they fumbled with the firing mechanisms, unable to see clearly in the darkness. Gareth, having superior visual acuity, flew at a boy who managed to aim his weapon in Ewan’s direction. The rush of adrenaline, combined with a primal urge, drove his own teeth to seek the pulsing neck of his attacker. As his victim’s blood filled his gnawing hunger, his strength grew, pinning the larger boy to the forest floor where he could finish his feed. The exhilaration turned his mind hazy as he continued to suck deeply before tossing the dry human husk aside and collapsing on the ground. By now, Ewan had finished his second victim and sat satiated near the fading fire. After what seemed like hours, they both rose and evaluated the scene. It was a bloody mess. Three corpses lay about the clearing, of the fourth, there was no sign. Fear of being caught now filled Gareth’s mind.
“We should not have done this. We shall be caught and hanged,” he rasped as Ewan calmly dragged one of the bodies nearer the fire.
“Nonsense! All we need to do is destroy the evidence. Anyway, no one will believe the crazed tales of a poacher. The blame will be on him… if he even dares to speak, now help me move the other one.”
Gareth, shaking in fear, did as instructed by his younger cousin. They piled the victims close to the fire and piled brush about them. Just before they left, Ewan took a dry branch and used it to set the clothing afire. The dry season had left plenty of fuel to make the bodies unidentifiable. Soon, a blaze of flames, combined with rolling smoke sent them quickly to the road home.
To this day, he had not forgotten the feeling of what it felt like to feed off a healthy, young human. The intense pleasure was unlike anything he had felt before. Imagining that it was similar to the stories of those who got fixed on opium, he worried about controlling the urge to take more human life. From that day, he vowed to only feed off animals. Ewan ridiculed him for this, calling it a weakness of character to go against what was so obviously natural. Even his parents did not understand. While they had been angry over the lack of discretion, they understood the demands of the blood lust. Fortunately, the fire did indeed hide all traces of their involvement. The one survivor never spoke of his part in that night. On the rare occasion that he encountered Gareth or Ewan in town, the boy, now a man, practically ran from their presence.
Now, having hoped that all of that was simply in the past, Gareth feared that Ewan was going to cause trouble at Pemberley. As he walked through the deserted gardens, on his way to the nearby woods, he sniffed the air. Somewhere, nearby someone had killed something. Following the metallic aroma, he quickened his pace, unaware that he had been observed. From up in a third story window, unable to sleep, Mary Bennet watched the pale man as he made his way across the lawn. From the distance, she could not be sure which Devlin man was wandering about at this late hour. But, considering the attachments that both her sister and dear friend had made, she would be sure to keep them under close observation. Something was not right about those two.
*****
Ewan Devlin was also hungry as he closed the door to Caroline Bingley’s bedchamber. While one appetite had be filled, another, more pressing needed appeasement. Laughing to himself, he had found the older woman an easy conquest. If she thought for a moment that he was fool enough to marry her, she was indeed insane. So obvious in her intentions, he had indulged her forwardness all evening. From the moment he set eyes upon her, he smelled something rotten, and that was saying something, coming from him. He had considered taking his feed from her willing body, but after he had taken what she so freely offered, he felt the need to bathe. How many others had come before him? Not that it really mattered, as she was not going to be any wife of his, but he did wonder. Now, as she slept, smiling contentedly in her sleep, he made his escape. Thinking of all the other ladies he had encountered that evening, he narrowed down the choices available.
While Georgiana Darcy possessed the funds he needed, her demeanor was far too meek for his tastes. He wanted someone with a bit of fire. That requirement also immediately ruled out Mary Bennet. Through those spectacles of hers, she saw far more than she let on. He’d have to watch himself around her, especially if he wanted to consider her sister Kitty. Kitty Bennet was beautiful and charming, but when it came to finances, hopelessly impoverished. While she did possess some five thousand pounds, a gift from her brother-in-law, and appropriate connections, would it be enough to make the changes he wished once he took possession of Polwys? Perhaps money was not everything… he did not want to be saddled with some mouse, or in the case of Caroline, a shrew. Kitty Bennet would definitely be fun. Resolving to ponder this more, he skirted the forest in search of easy prey. Hearing the bawling of a stray calf, having wandered from its mother, he quickly silenced its cries with a blade to the neck. As the blood spurted from the wound, he drank deeply, ignoring the footsteps behind him. An intruder could just as easily be dispatched, and no doubt taste better.
“Ewan! Could you not be more discreet!” hissed Gareth Devlin as he approached the edge of the forest. A bright full moon did little to conceal their shapes where the open field met the trees.
“Oh don’t worry dear cousin… do you want some?” he offered as he licked the drops of blood from his lips.
“That is not the point. What are you doing here?”
“Same as you, I suppose… looking for a wife. He who marries first, takes all. It was your mother’s dying request.”
“Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Never fear cousin… never fear… but remember... I don’t take orders from anyone… especially you.”
Gareth sighed. It was no use talking sense to Ewan. He would always do as he wished, despite the consequence. He only hoped he could protect the innocent, especially Georgiana Darcy. From the moment he was introduced, Gareth felt a strange pull towards the young woman. But, would she accept him for what he was? What their children could be?
~Seven~
A few days later….
Just after breakfast, Georgiana and Mary, accompanied by Gareth and Matthew Morrigan, respectively, made their way through the winding halls of Pemberley. Consisting of over seventy rooms, Georgiana began her tour in the great hall. It had been quite easy to avoid Mrs. Bennet and any demands for their attentions, as the elder woman had not yet risen by the time the ladies began their morning activities. Kitty, alone, had gone off to meet Ewan in some private location, leaving Georgiana and Mary to more respectable amusements. They promised to meet later, before the fox hunt scheduled for that afternoon. Wrinkling her nose at the idea, Georgiana had hoped to be able to avoid the fox hunt. Never one for blood sports, she did not want any part of it, but as hostess, it was her duty to see to her guests. Hoping to be left in charge of refreshments, she could simply socialize. Unfortunately, this would require her to do without the attentions of Gareth Devlin. As other ladies would be eager participants, she may be forced to ride along. As that was still hours away, she resolved to happier pursuits while the day was young. Leading the foursome through the great reception rooms and into the gallery of family portraits, Mary and Matthew dawdled behind, allowing privacy and the pretense of chaperonage at the same time.
“These are my parents,” Georgiana said with a tinge of sadness as Gareth studied the newest additions to the upper hall that stretched the length of the house.
“You never knew them, did you?”
“No, Mama died shortly after I was born, and Papa a few years later. It has always been just Fitzwilliam and I… and now Lizzie,” she added brightening.
“You like your new sister, don’t you? One would expect a bit of jealousy, but I don’t detect one bit of that sort of thing.”
“Oh no... I adore her, perhaps not as much as my brother, but I could not imagine Pemberley without her now. It is as if she was somehow meant to be here.”
“And you? Will you be here forever?”
Georgiana did not immediately reply, but appeared to be considering her response when they stopped in front of one of the oldest images. The couple both stared at the uncanny resemblance the painted man bore to Gareth. A small plate was engraved with the name Philip D’Arcy.
“I see evidence of our shared lineage,” Gareth acknowledged.
“I believe he was my great-great grandfather, the one who built Pemberley. As you can see, he also uses the old way of spelling the family name. That was changed during Elizabeth I’s reign to sound more English even though as you know, much of the family is Welsh and French. Sometimes it was dangerous to have known connections to other countries. It’s funny that this one is still here. It is customary to retire the oldest to the attics when the new generation requires the space. I know that Lizzie’s wedding portrait was recently completed, but it hasn’t been hung yet.”
“Have you an interest in the family history?”
“Oh yes, very much so… second only to music, it is a passion of mine.”
“There are records at Polwys going back to the crusades. Some are rather fragile. I have been trying to re-copy some of the text, but there is a room full of diaries and ledgers. Sometimes I think they recorded everything that ever happened. Much of it is mundane estate transactions, but others are quite entertaining.”
“I should love to see it… and your home. It is a medieval fortress?”
“Then you must visit. And yes, Polwys is a bit formidable. The single tower is over eight hundred years old. While we may not have the refinements of Pemberley, I assure you that it has been outfitted with more modern comforts. We should arrange for it soon, the distance between our two branches of the family must not remain.”
“I shall have to ask my brother of course, but he has always been in favor of keeping traditions and is very fond of architecture. I just know he will want to go.”
“Spring time is best, a winter in Northern Wales is not the most welcoming. We often refer to it as the season of mud.”
Georgiana laughed and led him on to the next room.
For the next two hours, the couple, shadowed by Mary Bennet and the future Doctor Morrigan, wandered the halls of Pemberley. Despite the number of guests, they encountered very few other people. It was not until the horn sounded to call the riders to the hunt, that Georgiana remembered her responsibilities.
“Oh dear! I have completely allowed time to escape me! We really must go and join the hunting party, Lizzie will wonder what has become of me.”
“Will you be riding?”
“Unfortunately so… I much rather organize the refreshments. I simply cannot bear to see animals being killed. Oh, I realize that we need them for food, but I get a bit queasy at the sight of blood… and the screams… they are terrible.”
Gareth inwardly winced at her revelation. What would she think of him if she knew his true nature? A monster no doubt. He would do his best to conceal it, but this knowledge had most surely made marriage to her impossible. Patting her hand, where it still lay possessively on his arm, he promised to ride at her side despite feeling as if he were now toying with her feelings. Forcing a smile, they rejoined Mary and Matthew, and the ladies left to change into their riding habits, agreeing to meet them on the field within the hour.
*****
As soon as Georgiana and Mary began their house tour, Kitty Bennet slipped away into the nearby woods. A most unusual place for a meeting, she was intrigued by the novelty. Ewan Devlin was the most fascinating man she had ever met. To think that he should favor her above all the others had filled her with fanciful thoughts of a possible future. Not even the sour stares of Caroline Bingley could dampen her spirits. Ever since the opening ball, that woman had shot daggers in her direction at every meeting. It was not her fault that Ewan obviously preferred her, despite Caroline’s substantial dowry. It was refreshing to find a man who did not look at a woman’s money first. Walking quickly to the appointed spot, Kitty was pleased to find a small picnic set out in a small copse. Having skipped breakfast, her stomach rumbled its complaints loud enough to be heard by Ewan, announcing her presence as he turned away from where he was skinning a rabbit.
“I hope you like wild game? Welsh rarebit is a favorite of mine.”
“I do… and a man who can cook!” she attempted to joke.
Kitty inwardly was repulsed by the sight of the freshly killed creature, but swallowed her disgust and offered to assist in its preparation. She supposed that all men liked that sort of thing, it was in their nature. Her own father spent hours shooting birds at Longbourn for no reason other than sport. At least Ewan was going to actually eat what he killed. Besides, it would endear him to her if she showed interest in what he enjoyed. She could not imagine snobby old Caroline dirtying her fingers. Although, she had only known him for a few days, she could feel the attraction between them
Ewan offered the newly skinned carcass to Kitty and demonstrated how to spit the creature over the small fire. Fortunately, she had arrived well after he had drained its life’s blood. A girl who was not squeamish was rare enough. He did not want to frighten her away, but he would not hide his true self from any future wife. Unfortunately, time was not on his side and he could not afford to wait much longer. Caroline Bingley had only been an option for a few hours, but it did not take much to see through her thin veneer. Although he doubted Gareth’s success with Georgiana, He may have to do something a bit more drastic to bring Kitty around quickly. Society ladies were not generally ones for hasty marriages and he’d not want any touch of scandal to mar his chances of taking Polwys Tor from Gareth. If he could find an amiable companion to share it with … all the better, and Kitty was lovely… and spirited. Ewan’s eyes found the pulse at the base of her neck as she bent over the fire. Soon… very soon. He would be patient.
*****
Fox hunts had been popular amongst the residents of Pemberley since its first stones were laid. The considerable forested acreage of the estate lent itself to some of the finest game in the country and many vied for the privilege of an invitation. Today, as the late autumn sun shone brightly through the trees, over thirty riders waited for the signal to begin. Amongst them, Georgiana Darcy patted her mount gently to calm the agitated mare.
“Yes, Athena, I know, you are not used to so many others, but you need the exercise.”
Looking about, she saw Mary and Kitty Bennet sitting near their sister Jane under a striped tent set up for spectators. The Bennet sisters, not having the luxury of quality riding horses, declined to join in the party, preferring to keep company with their elder sibling. Jane, now some five months with child, reclined on an upholstered chair, and waved in her direction. The only Meryton guests who had saddled up were Charles and Caroline Bingley. Strange, Georgiana noticed that Caroline made no attempt to go near the Devlin men. She had thought that Caroline had firmly set her sights on Ewan. Hmm, perhaps he was of sounder mind than she first believed. Ewan had dismounted and gone to the tent to speak with Kitty Bennet, much to her mother’s delight. From the considerable distance, the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet could be heard as she prattled compliments on everything from his riding boots to his nose. Nudging Athena a bit further away, she was met by Gareth, anxious to begin. Assuming that he enjoyed the sport, Georgiana was surprised when he suggested that they ride towards the rear of the party. It was the least advantageous spot, but one in which they could easily slip away if desired. Smiling in agreement, they took their places and waited for the signal to begin.
After the horn sounded the dogs soon picked up the scent and the horses galloped on the chase. As the breeze caught Georgiana’s hat and whipped the netting around her face, she had to admit that riding at such a speed was invigorating. The purpose of the chase was soon forgotten as she allowed
the feel of her horse’s powerful gait propel her forward. Jumping a small fence, Athena’s hooves soundly found the ground and gained speed. The increased barking of the dogs only further edged them on.
“They must have found something!” Gareth shouted over the sound of the horses pounding on the earth.
“I believe you are right, they do sound excited.”
Bringing up the rear of the party, they soon caught the others, not rejoicing in the capture of a fox, but standing around a large object on the ground. The group of men sought to obscure whatever it was from the ladies and waved Georgiana away as they approached. Looking quizzically from where her brother motioned for her to stay back to the face of equally puzzled Gareth, she wondered what had been found. Surely it must be something disturbing for the men to behave so. Slowing her mount, she walked the horse over to where Caroline Bingley and the other ladies waited.
“What is it?”
“Some sort of animal attack I believe. The gentlemen believe that we are too delicate to view the mess.” Caroline informed her with a roll of her eyes.
A number of the female participants did look a bit pale. Miss Geraldine Adams was even a shade of green. Fearing that she’d embarrass herself by being sick, Georgiana went to the nauseas woman’s side and offered her a scented handkerchief.
“Please, take it. I find it most useful during such events.”
Grateful, the young lady placed it over her nose and breathed deeply. Georgiana had to admit, the thick metallic odor of blood hung thick in the air. But it did not smell very fresh. The gentlemen had covered the creature with a cloth and were attempting to drag it out of the pathway where it had fallen. The hooves protruding out from under the tarp revealed that it had been a newborn calf. What could have killed it?
Fitzwilliam Darcy, wearing a polite smile that did little to mask his concern, left the circle of gentlemen and approached the ladies. “I believe it shall be necessary to call short our afternoon and return to Pemberley. It appears to be some sort of attack. Perhaps a wolf, although rare, we have had such things happen before. For everyone’s safety, we should return.”
The Transformation of Georgiana Darcy Page 5