“Georgiana? We could be married… I could show you how to manage things.”
She turned to blankly look at him. No emotion was present in response to his offer. It was as if she had not heard him.
“Georgiana?”
“I… I cannot think of marriage right now… besides I don’t even know how I feel about you. Marriage must be based on more than just a common bond or practicalities… there must be love. Do you love me?”
“I believe I could… in time.”
“That is not enough for me… I want what my brother has with Lizzy…. If that is not possible than I shall remain as I am. I thank you for your offer, your guidance and your friendship… but I cannot marry you… not now.”
A small glimmer of hope still remained. She had not flatly refused. “I understand, this has been much to take in…. But my offer still stands and I will always be your friend. Will you write to me? It helps to have someone who understands. There will be difficult times ahead.”
Georgiana only nodded and rose to put some space between them. She had so many things racing through her mind that solitude was needed. Quickening her pace, she tried to avoid running down the hall to the security of her bedchamber. As she closed the door and rested her back against it, unchecked tears began to flow. In the past week her whole world had changed, and she had no idea as to what to do.
~Twelve~
Two days later, Gareth Devlin left Pemberley. No sign of any predator had ever been found, and thankfully no sign of Ewan either. The remains of the maid had been laid to rest and everyone just wanted to forget the terrible incident. He had not seen much of Georgiana either, at meals and occasional glimpses as she walked the garden or spent time with her nephew Charlie. Charlie Darcy was about two years old and the apple of everyone’s eye. During the festival, he had spent most of his time in his nursery in the care of Nanny Godwin. A formidable woman, she did not believe in children being overly excited by too much commotion. Now, that the household had emptied, her young charge once again regained his freedom.
Taking him by the hand, Georgiana led the boy through the rose hedge maze. A favorite place of his, it also allowed nanny a much needed break from the energetic child. Watching her nephew run through the park, she wondered if children would ever be in her future. She had gone back to Darcy’s library and borrowed some of the other diaries, but there had been little else of value. So far, she had been able to quench her cravings easily due to the large amount of fall butchering being done. Volunteering for countless errands for cook, it had placed fresh blood available upon demand. She had to admit, for the first time in her life, she was not plagued by regular headaches or fatigue. A few white hairs had begun to show, but were easily hidden amid her natural blond locks. So far, it was easy to hide the changes, only her eyes gave evidence to anything out of the ordinary.
Lizzie and Darcy also enjoyed a stroll in the garden maze. Some paces back, they were able to make conversation without being overheard. In a house such as Pemberley, with its numerous servants, privacy was a rarity.
“So… can we consider the festival a success despite the tragedy?” asked Lizzie cautiously. She had wanted to plan another next year, but feared that the memories of the attack may taint the idea.
“Yes indeed. It was an unfortunate business, but that could have happened at any time. I noticed that your sisters seemed to have enjoyed themselves, especially Mary. Do you think anything will come of her acquaintance with Matthew Morrigan?”
“Well mother certainly hopes so. He did ask permission to write to her, so that is something. They do seem well suited.”
“Indeed… if only Georgiana were to be so fortunate.”
“I thought she had taken a liking to Gareth Devlin?”
“Yes, and he has invited us to visit Polwys Tor in the spring, but I am not sure about him. He and Ewan are a bit strange. Perhaps we will accept and spend a few weeks there after our Easter visit to Rosings Park.”
Lizzie groaned at the thought. The annual visit to the home of Darcy’s aunt was met with dread each year. Never did Lady Catherine de Bourgh let anyone forget that Darcy had broken some sort of claimed arrangement between him and his cousin Anne. It was mortifying, especially for Anne who had to suffer her mother’s oppressiveness. However, Lizzie would have an opportunity to visit her childhood friend Charlotte Collins. As a vicar with a fine living, as well as being heir to Longbourn, Lizzies own family home, it had been a great match for her, and a narrow escape for Lizzie. Mr. Collins was as great a trial to bear as Lady Catherine, but seeing Charlotte would be worth it. Perhaps Darcy could convince his aunt to allow Anne to accompany them to Polwys Tor. Lord knew when the last time was that the poor girl got away from the old dragon.
Darcy read his wife’s thoughts and laughed. “I know… but bear it we must,” he agreed and swung her hand in his as they followed the disappearing giggles of their son as Georgiana chased him around a corner of the maze.
*****
The weeks flew by, the Christmas season came and went in a happily uneventful fashion. As spring Georgiana did her best to monitor the strange impulses and modifications to her appearance. She had even tried to go without her biweekly ration of blood. So far, the supply from the yearly butchering had held out, but soon she’d have to come up with something else. Never one for the hunt, she had feigned a new interest the last time her brother went shooting. She had even been brave enough to ask him to teach her how to load and fire the gun. It had not been easy to convince him of her sudden desire to accompany the hunters, but as usual, he could deny her nothing. Eventually, after a great waste of shot, she managed to bag three birds. It was not much, but it had been enough. Having only consumed blood that had sat for hours, the fresh warm fluid of a recent kill was almost an aphrodisiac. Feeling exhilarated, she tried to play off the energy as excitement over her ability to master the weapon and even requested her own personal gun as a Christmas present. In reality, it was fear of starvation that propelled her actions. Hunger was not a feeling to which she had ever been familiar, and she doubted that this was an ordinary hunger. It was more of a ravenous beast that had to be satisfied. The next hunt was some two weeks away, hopefully she had drank enough to keep the cravings at bay.
When not learning to adjust to her new eating habits, she spent the rest of her time pouring over the diaries in search of anything that may be of assistance. She had received two letters from Gareth, inquiring as to her health and well-being, but she had only replied with general conversation, keeping much to herself. So many questions needed to be answered, but the thought of being dependent upon him was unappealing. Taking the final volume, she climbed the stairs to the third floor nursery, planning to spend a few quiet hours before heading out to hunt once again. She enjoyed her daily visits with Charlie reading to him. At just two years old, he did not notice what she read, only that he was the center of attention.
Georgiana found him surrounded by his numerous toys. Most had been Christmas gifts, but some, the ones most loved, were relics from Darcy’s own childhood. Rocking back and forth on an ancient horse, he squealed with glee at the sight of her.
“Aunt Geegee!” he shouted and ran to her open arms. Nanny Godwin, rising from her seat in a corner of the room, nodded to Georgiana before gathering a bit of mending and leaving.
“Hello Charlie, how’s my favorite boy today?” she asked as he climbed into her lap and reached for the diary she had brought. It was one of the few times in which the energetic child ever sat still. He seemed fascinated by turning the pages and the sound of her voice as she read aloud. Soon, the little boy grew heavy in her arms and she shifted slightly to adjust to his weight. His head lolled to one side exposing his delicate neck where Georgiana could see the tiny pulse beating. Mesmerized for a moment, she shook off the distraction and tried to focus. A particularly significant event had captured her attention.
May, 1428
It has truly been a day of wonders. First, my darling
Agnes has celebrated her fortieth year. Even though I reminded her that she is some thirty years my junior and still as beautiful as the day I first set eyes upon her, a melancholy air has taken the normally cheerful lady. It was this change of mood that I pressured her to divulge its cause. After some persuasion, she admitted to having a fear of growing old and dying before me. After much consideration, she requested that I allow her to become what she has always known me to be. This shock to my senses, although unexpected, was delightfully welcome. I had made the offer before we had wed, believing that there must not be secrets between us, but she had declined. I had not approached the subject again, respecting her decision. However, now she has made me the happiest of men. Barring any unfortunate accidents, we may expect to spend the next fifty years together.
This is where the entry stopped. Georgiana hastily turned the rest of the pages in an effort to find any details of how the transformation of Agnes proceeded, but found only disappointment. The following entries only depicted general estate transactions. However, despite the volume having a last entry in 1467, it bore the same fine script and no mention of anyone’s death. Apparently, Philip and Agnes did have lasting happiness. Closing the book, she resolved to ask Darcy if there were any more family records located elsewhere at Pemberley. She needed more information. A deep rumbling in her stomach gave evidence to the hollow feeling that had been growing. Lately, her need to eat had become unpredictable. Formerly able to go for at least two weeks, she was now unable to wait longer than three or four days. It was also becoming more difficult to hide the changes in appetite from Darcy and Lizzie. Regular food simply held no appeal; she needed fresh blood. Looking down at where Charlie lay, contently snoring with a tiny thumb stuck in his mouth, the strange dizziness took hold once again. A strange pounding in her ears drowned out the sound of the nursery door opening as she leaned her mouth over Charlie’s exposed neck and tasted the soft flesh.
~Thirteen~
Elizabeth Darcy made her way to her son’s nursery with the intent of discussing young Charlie’s new wardrobe when she heard the commotion coming from inside. Frowning slightly, she did not wish for any more unsettling events. As it was, she was deeply worried about her sister-in-law. Ever since Christmas, Georgiana had been behaving strangely. Normally a quiet and reserved girl, her moods had gotten erratic, as had her appetite. Lizzie had noticed that Georgina had stopped eating almost completely. A few years back, her own sister Kitty had done something similar in an effort to lose enough weight to be fashionable. It had been a result of cruel teasing from Lydia. She had recovered, but it had taken time to convince her that she was perfectly lovely as she was. Not only had Georgiana gotten very thin, her music practice had also suffered. Normally spending hours daily with diligent practice, Lizzie could hardly recall the last time she heard the pianoforte. When she had played, the choice of music had been mournful laments instead of her regular festive selections. And what was with her sudden interest in hunting? As far as Lizzie could remember, Georgiana had despised any sort of blood sport, often bursting into tears at the sight of dead rabbits, or birds. Now, she spent far too many solitary hours alone in the woods, yet rarely returned with any success. Darcy had not made any mention of noticing any significant changes, but he was a man. Men tended to not be as observant. After her visit with Charlie, she would seek out Darcy. As she neared the closed door of the nursery, the scuffling sounds were louder, accompanied by the cries of Charlie and Nanny.
“Let go of him Miss! You are hurting him!”
Georgiana refused to release her hold on the now screaming child. Her grip tightened viselike as she glared at the servant. Blue eyes flashed a glowing fire as she backed away into a corner of the room.
“Must eat… so hungry,” she mumbled and looked down at her nephew.
“I will get you anything you like… just let him go.” Pleaded Nanny as Lizzie burst into the room.
Expecting to find her son in the midst of a tantrum, Lizzie was shocked to discover Georgiana cowering in a corner with Charlie. Unresponsive to any address, Georgiana stared off at some unknown point, occasionally bending down to lick Charlie’s temple where a vein throbbed as he continued to wail.
“I found her like this Ma’am… and she won’t give him up,” explained the frantic nurse.
Lizzie reached out to take Charlie, but was raked by Georgiana’s nails as they left deep red gouges in her arm. Small droplets of blood oozed from the parallel slashes as Lizzie pulled away in pain. Nanny Godwin swatted at Georgiana with a stuffed bear as Lizzie made another desperate grab for her son. As the blood from her wounds grew greater, Georgiana’s attention was transferred from the boy to her sister-in-law and she suddenly dropped the squalling child. Crawling on the floor in Lizzie’s direction, Georgiana’s eyes were a glazed icy blue as she ignored all else but the imperative to feed. Nanny scooped up Charlie and ran for the door. Taking the opportunity as it presented, Lizzie threw every toy in reach at Georgiana as she made her own escape, locking the door behind her. As the women attempted to comfort the sobbing child, loud howls of anger could be heard from behind the door.
The sounds of Georgiana’s displeasure echoed through the entire third level of the house, alerting much of the servants wing to come running.
“Go find Mr. Darcy!” ordered Lizzie as she rocked her son gently. Soon, his tears dried and he fell fast asleep, but the voice inside the nursery continued. Almost unrecognizable, and more animal than human, growls interspersed with crying demands for food emulated through the barrier of the locked door. Relinquishing Charlie to Nanny as Darcy’s booted feet could be heard coming up the stair, with Mrs. Reynolds and Mr. Stephens following behind. As the most senior staff, the housekeeper and butler were privy to the most private aspects of Pemberley ad they ordered all others away. Nanny now removed Charlie to the safety of Mrs. Darcy’s second floor bedchamber, with orders to lock the door.
Darcy was alone when he arrived to where his normally practical wife sat shaking in the hall. The poor maid that had found him had not made coherent sense as she babbled nonsense about Miss Darcy having some sort of fit. With the hall now cleared of staff, Darcy queried as to a more realistic account.
“What happened?” he asked, kneeling beside a now crying Lizzie.
Before she could answer, the sounds of a heavy object hit the nursery door, accompanied by the shouts of “Let me out! I need to feed!” from the unmistakable voice of his sister. Mrs. Reynolds flinched at the sound of the young lady she had known since infancy. These were truly extraordinary circumstances.
“I fear that Georgiana has taken leave of her senses… Nanny said she tried to bite Charlie. She scratched me when we tried to take him from her,” rasped a still shaking Lizzie Darcy as she proffered her wounded arm.
Visibly taken aback by the sight of the now crusted scratches, he bade his wife to go below with Mrs. Reynolds to have her arm tended and see to Charlie.
“No… I must stay… something is terribly wrong with her.”
By now, the demands from behind the door had ceased and only a faint whimpering could be heard from within. Acquiescing to her request, Darcy bid Lizzie and Mrs. Reynolds to stand aside while he slowly opened the door.
“Stephens, see to it that she does not get past me. Push me in and shut the door behind if necessary.”
Lizzie cast him a worried look, but Darcy was the essence of calm. Surely there was a rational explanation for this. Easing the door ajar, he stepped into the room. Gone was the snarling girl who had so violently lashed out less than an hour before. In her place, cowering in a corner sat Georgiana rocking back and forth muttering quietly. Darcy crouched down beside her and beckoned the others to enter.
“Georgiana? It’s me, Fitzwilliam. Can you hear me?”
Georgiana did not respond to his address, but her mumbled “hungry… so hungry” was clearly understood as she continued to rock. Gathering her up in his arms, Darcy carried her to Charlie’s cot. Small as she was, an
d curled into a ball, Georgiana appeared much the child herself as tears rolled down her face. Darcy then turned to his trusted butler, “send someone for Dr. Allan immediately, we shall remove her to her own chamber where he can attend her.”
Now alone with Georgiana, but clearly no longer in danger, Darcy turned to his wife. “Now, tell me again exactly what happened,”
Lizzie relayed the events once again and this time was able to place things in better perspective. “Nanny said she had tried to bite Charlie. What would make a person do such a thing? And, look at her eyes… have you ever seen the like? What are we going to do? I cannot have someone putting our child in danger.”
Darcy admitted that he had no logical explanation. “I have heard stories of an unusual affliction in our family that causes strange cravings, but Georgiana has never shown any inclination to it.” He had spied the old journal lying on the nursery floor and carefully retrieved it, noting the place where Georgiana had placed a marker. A sense of unease that he could not identify coursed through him as Lizzie spoke.
“Well, she has not eaten hardly anything in weeks. I had been meaning to discuss this exact thing with you. But, that does not explain her eyes… so strange, they almost seem to glow.”
“Yes, it is unusual. I have never heard of someone’s eyes changing color like that. Hopefully the doctor can provide some insight…. But, you have seen them before… as have I.”
“Where? I don’t recall any such person.”
“The Devlins… They both bear the same trait. A Darcy trait.”
“What are you talking about? Is there something I need to know about your lineage? Have you been hiding some sort of dangerous defect from me?” Lizzie demanded as fear for Charlie sent a sharp cramp into her stomach. She could not bear the thought of some strange affliction manifesting in her son.
The Transformation of Georgiana Darcy Page 9