“I never considered love,” he murmured uneasily and stopped short. He could not admit to her his desire to possess her, to fulfill his uncontrollable need for her.
“Do you want to marry, Fitz—Mr. Darcy? If you want a wife you do not love, any woman would suit you.You would not need me.” Elizabeth removed her hand from his. “I do not normally act so recklessly. I enjoy our verbal battles more than I should. Most of the men I meet lack the acuity to understand what wit I may possess. I never set my sights on a man; I do not need to marry. In fact, I decided long ago only love—a passionate attachment—would persuade me to do so. Otherwise, I should be just as happy being Aunt Lizzy to my sisters’ broods.” She blushed profusely. “It is, I know, an eccentric stance. Nonetheless, it is mine.” Darcy stared at her, astonished by such a declaration, one no fashionable society woman—no lady of the ton—would make.
“It is—it has been my plan not to marry.” He could not look at her. How could he explain the turmoil she created in him?
“And your estate? Do you not need an heir?”
Elizabeth’s words rang in his ears. An heir? A child with her? He could not do it. He fought every day to control the evil in himself. He could not pass that wretched—that cruelly unfortunate trait down to another. “Pemberley will be left to Georgiana’s children. What I do, I do for her.”
“I see.” But Elizabeth did not see how a virile man such as Fitzwilliam Darcy could not consider marriage and a family. It made no sense! His reaction to her guaranteed—did it not?—that he possessed no perverted ideas of sexual relationships. After a long pause, where neither of them breathed, Elizabeth said with finality, “If neither of us wishes to marry, why must we end what we
“You never having children of your own, Miss Elizabeth, seems an aberration of nature,” he whispered huskily, but he could not look at her because, to him, she was everything good in the world. “I would like the memory of you to brighten my dreams.” Dreams of what might have been, if not for a curse. Darcy stood and offered her his hand.“We will let this run its course, then.”
Elizabeth stood and, without thought, stepped into him, sliding her arms about his waist and resting her head on his chest. Darcy kissed the top of her head and sighed. Being with her felt so utterly right—no hesitation. She tilted her head back as she looked up at him. She repeated his gesture from the night before, stroking his chin line with her fingertips.“Do we meet again this evening?”
Darcy’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. “In the ballroom—not the library.”
“The ballroom? Finally, we will dance?” Elizabeth’s breath caught in her chest.“Am I now tolerable enough to tempt you, or is it because I will no longer be slighted by other men?”
“You, my Minx, knew even that evening at the assembly that you tempted me, and I was a fool to deny it. If I offended you, I apologize. I fought, but not so gallantly, what I saw from the first time my eyes rested on you.”
“Even without music, we dance at last?” she repeated.
Darcy smiled mischievously. “I thought I might teach you to waltz.We can hum if you require music, my lady.”
“Waltz?” she gasped.“It is so…so scandalous!”
“Exactly,” he said, as he pulled her into his arms and lowered his head to kiss her.Their lips met. Elizabeth felt his body harden and her hungry response. “Fitzwilliam,” she moaned—a moan not of rejection, but of want—when they separated.
The need in her voice sent his senses spinning, and he rained
“I put a spell on you,” she said mischievously.
Darcy pulled back to look at her questioningly. “I am a man who believes in spells, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Really, Mr. Darcy? I would think you much too sensible.” Her tone remained playful.
His thumb traced the outline of her lips. “My judgments are often based on more than the facts; gut feelings come into play as well. I accept what others cannot see.”
“What do you see when you look at me, Fitzwilliam?”
“A conundrum.” He brushed his lips across hers. “A beautiful woman. An adventurous spirit.” He wanted to add soul mate, but did not. “A beautiful, adventurous woman who looks thoroughly kissed,” he added slyly.
Elizabeth arched one eyebrow. “Shall we return to the house? Jane should be awake by now, and I am sure Miss Bingley is in need of your company.”
“Do not remind me,Vixen.You will pay sorely for my attention to you,” he warned.
“I can handle Miss Bingley.” Elizabeth stepped away and began to straighten her clothing.“Better yet I can claim Jane’s illness as an excuse to avoid her. You must be the one to endure her rebuke.” She looked up and smiled sweetly.
Darcy smiled back as he reached out to tuck a stray curl under the edge of her bonnet. “You have no idea how often I pretend interest with Miss Bingley. Sometimes I imagine that is what marriage is—an endless meal with Caroline Bingley.” He saw her flinch. “Elizabeth, you misapprehend me. Caroline may have her hopes, but it will never be. I will not marry.”
“Let us go, Mr. Darcy.” She walked in a huff towards the horse.
Darcy followed close behind her. She turned so he could lift her to the saddle, but Elizabeth took no pleasure in his touch. He placed his strong hands at her waist. “Elizabeth Bennet, I give no attention to anyone but you, and you know it. Now, are we going to fight over someone as insignificant to me as Caroline Bingley? Surely you know the charms of my estate are such that if I wanted Miss Bingley, she would be mine.” He raised her chin with his hand.A single tear ran down her cheek.“No tears,” he chastised her as he wiped it away with his thumb.“Only memories.”
Elizabeth nodded and swallowed hard—her fit of jealousy so inappropriate. “Only memories.”
Darcy lifted her to her horse and helped her to adjust her seat before leading her back to the stables. They spoke no more of desire or of marriage or of anything besides how to sit on a horse properly. In the evening, she dined with her sister in their rooms while Darcy tolerated Caroline’s dismay at his teaching Elizabeth Bennet how to ride. He bit back many of his retorts, knowing they would only increase Miss Bingley’s vexation and her denunciation of the Bennet sisters. He did it more for Charles Bingley than for himself. While Caroline’s voice droned on, Darcy imagined holding Elizabeth in his arms and kissing her soft lips. The image sustained him and aroused him. The point on her neck where the blood coursed through her veins throbbed in him also. He nearly groaned in remembrance. “Tonight,” he mumbled as he forked up a piece of carrot.
“Did you say something, Mr. Darcy?” Caroline called out from her end of the table.
Darcy’s head snapped up. “Nothing of significance, Miss Bingley.”
“Of—of course, Mr. Darcy,” she stammered.
Darcy smiled, realizing he had her. He knew Elizabeth would not be so easily bested and would not agree with his every statement. “Then how is my giving attention to one of Charles’s nearest neighbors a detriment? A benevolent act builds goodwill, whether it is tending to Miss Jane Bennet or giving her younger sister a chance to learn to ride properly.The skill will only help Miss Elizabeth find a proper husband when she must marry. A landed gentleman would expect as much.”
“But I do not ride, Mr. Darcy. Are you implying an accomplished woman should take to horse?” Her voice held disbelief and a bit of suspicion.
“Couples often ride together in Hyde Park during the season. Why do you think I taught Georgiana?” His level gaze dared Caroline Bingley to deny what he said.
“If you wish to learn, Caroline, I will arrange a riding master,” Charles offered.
Caroline puffed up in her self-importance. “I will consider it, Charles.” She returned to her meal, slicing away at her full plate of meat. “If I choose to ride, I will ask Mr. Darcy to teach me, as he does Miss Elizabeth.”
“That cannot be, Miss Bingley. In our social circle, it is not done unless the lady and the gentleman are engaged, and we are no
t so attached. Country society allows more latitude. No one locally would reproach Miss Elizabeth, but the ton is not so kind to those of our standing.”
“Darcy is right,”Wayne Hurst added.“An unmarried woman in London must maintain certain standards.”
Louisa Hurst confirmed what her husband said. “Maybe you should let Charles find you a suitable teacher.”
“As I said, I will consider it!” Miss Bingley said, flushing with irritation.The conversation was closed.
At midnight, the ballroom door opened, and Elizabeth Bennet slipped into the room. Darcy was dressed much as he had been the previous evening, except he kept his loose-fitting shirt tucked into his breeches; he wore neither waistcoat, nor jacket, nor cravat. He stood to one side of the floor, having just lit all the candles in a candelabrum.The room was a bit chilly, although fires burned at both ends. Elizabeth smiled when she saw him waiting there for her.
Hearing the click of the door, he turned in anticipation. Elizabeth wore a simple day dress, but she had let her hair down, tying it back loosely from her face with a ribbon that matched the reddish brown of her dress. His heart jumped when he saw her. “Finally, you are here.” Although he spoke softly, his voice carried in the empty room.
“You missed me?” she asked lightly.
“You know bloody well I did,Vixen.” Darcy strode to her and scooped her into his arms and twirled her around as she giggled and shrieked. Finally, he set her on her feet in front of him. “Are you ready to dance with me?”
Elizabeth entwined her arms about him. “Why I must learn to waltz is beyond me. It is not as if I will ever have the chance to dance the waltz after tonight.”
“Who knows? Someday you may travel abroad.You will be the belle of the ball—an Englishwoman who knows how to waltz.” Darcy placed their hands into position.“We are to keep at least two inches between us,” he whispered as he placed one hand on her lower back.
“Too bad.” She went on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“Ah,Vixen, you would drive a sane man crazy with your flirtations.” He brushed her lips with his.“Let us dance.” He positioned her and slowly began the steps, showing her where to place her feet.Then he picked up the pace. She bit her lower lip as she concentrated on repeating the steps. “Elizabeth, look at me,” he
She raised her thickly lashed eyes to his and let out a deep sigh as she straightened her shoulders.Then she became his—gave herself up to the man. They were one being, moving rhythmically about the floor, twirling around the corners. “I feel like I am flying.” Her voice held pure exhilaration, and Darcy smiled. He alone could give her this.
“Purely scandalous.” He actually laughed out loud.
The sound of his laughter pleased her. The more Elizabeth knew of him, the less likely she thought him to be involved inVivian’s murder.The man had too many layers of kindness and decency to be part of a crime.“Positively disreputable!” she exclaimed.
After half an hour, he brought them to a standstill.“It grows late. But will you sit with me for awhile before returning to your room?”
“Of course,” she said, still swaying in place from the music in her head.“Oh, I do hope England will accept such a dance soon. It was glorious!” She remained a bit breathless.
“I never danced it with such an enthusiastic partner.” Darcy traced the line of her jaw with his fingers.
“Do not provoke me, Mr. Darcy,” she warned.“My day was one beyond belief—riding—waltzing—being with you—kissing under a copse of trees. I am packing a lifetime into a few short hours.What woman would not succumb to the joy of it all?”
He took her face in both his hands and looked into her eyes. “You make me feel alive as no woman has ever done.” His words stung her heart. She had started a flirtation because she wanted to prove him a murderer; now, all she thought of was being in his arms. He led her to nearby chairs, but instead of seating her in her own chair, Darcy pulled Elizabeth down on his lap. “You enjoyed your day?”
“Did I not just say so?” She kissed his face, placing small pecks on his forehead, cheeks, and chin.
“You did,Vixen, but I am vain enough to want to hear it again.” He kissed her deeply before withdrawing.“What scandalous events
Without missing a heartbeat, she declared boldly,“Teach me to use a sword.”
Darcy broke out in laughter once more.“With your spirit, your father should have had a son!”
Thinking he might refuse, she returned to kissing along his chin line.“So will you teach me some of the basics?”
For a fleeting moment, Darcy imagined slicing away the strings that tied up the bodice of her dress and then the strings of her corset with a flick of his sword. “I will arrange it.” His voice betrayed his need for her. “It must be out in the open. We cannot meet here at night; it would be too noisy.”
“There is an empty manor house in need of repairs on the other side of the estate. We could ride over, use the manor for a fencing lesson, and ride back. We could meet there even after I leave Netherfield.” Elizabeth snuggled into his chest.
Desire burned through him, but Darcy kept his tone undisturbed. “So you do not want this to end either?” He kissed the top of her head, and then released the ribbon holding back her auburn curls. He ran his fingers down the length of her tresses.
“No, Fitzwilliam, I do not want it to end. The day will come when you return to Pemberley, and my life will go back to the mundane, but until that time I choose to be near you.” She fell into his embrace, and their bodies reacted to the intimacy. Her fingers pulled at the opening of his shirt, and Elizabeth arched towards him.“There is something unfinished between us.”
Darcy’s hands slid up and down her arms and back.Then he let his fingers drift down her neck. At the point where he could see her pulse, a red mark surprised him. “Elizabeth?” he questioned, while touching the spot very gently.
“It is nothing—really nothing,” she said casually. “Just a bit of whisker burn, I suspect.”
In a tenuous, terrible moment, he saw the truth. “Lord, I am sorry. I never wished to hurt you or mar you.” His voice trembled with fear, imagining what he could do to her if he let himself go.
“I know, Fitzwilliam. It is all right. Perfectly all right.” She tried to soothe away what she did not understand.
Repulsed by himself, he started to set her away from him. “Let us retire for the evening.”
She resisted by pushing him down into the chair. “Fitzwilliam, what did I do to upset you?”
“If I tell you, you will think I am a candidate for Bedlam, and you will turn from me. I do not believe I could tolerate the reproach in your eyes, Elizabeth.” Darcy’s fingers circled the mark on her neck—a mark he left there.
“Tell me, Fitzwilliam. If it is a part of you, I need to know.” She would brook no dissent. If he wished to keep her in his life, he must tell Elizabeth the truth.
Darcy smiled ironically, his lips twitching with a grim acceptance. “Actually, it is a part of both of us, but I did not know that until last night.” His eyes returned to the mark.“You said the story of Lord Thomas and Fair Ellender was a favorite tale in your family, but in mine, it is a tale of horror—a plague on us all.” He heard her breath catch, but Elizabeth did not interrupt. She stroked the hair away from his face and kissed his forehead, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.
“It is a tale of nightmares,” he began cautiously.“Two centuries ago, Leána, a beautiful muse of a vampire, fell in love with Arawn Benning, a young artist. She offered him inspiration and success. If he succumbed to her charms, he would belong to her for an eternity. Those who previously weakened went on to fame and glory—but in exchange for eventual madness, followed by a premature death.
“However, Arawn Benning refused the attentions of the muse because of his passionate love for Ellender D’Arcy. Because of his refusal, Leána was to become his slave for a decade, helping him but never knowing where his true affection lay.”Terror an
d uncertainty flashed briefly in Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Infuriated by the slight, Leána sought the help of her Baobhan Síth sisters. The coven placed a curse on the couple: Arawn’s descendants
He paused. “Shall I continue?” he inquired softly. Elizabeth, overwhelmed by what he said, simply nodded. “Seorais, a true vampire, lives on the blood of his victims. Besides his preoccupation with death, Seorais has one other overpowering goal: revenge on the D’Arcy family. Each generation, he converts a D’Arcy—or someone a D’Arcy loves—to eternal damnation. Ellender D’Arcy became one of his victims, and she passed along those tendencies through—and to—the firstborn sons of her descendants. Her descendants, who are known as dhampirs because they are part human, have the right to choose their destiny. Depending on the choices they make every day of their lives, they could escape the curse. However, no one has yet to do so.The lure of eternal life and the seduction of fame and glory proved too much for them.” By degrees, Darcy drew her gaze.
“Elizabeth,Arawn is the Scottish name for Thomas.Your ancestor and mine loved each other.We are bound in a twisted fate.” His voice held such sadness; Elizabeth fought back her own tears.
She closed her eyes as the real terror crept over her. “Are you telling me that you suffer under this curse as a vampire?” Her words were barely audible in the empty ballroom.
Darcy looked directly into her eyes, trusting her with his awful secret.“I am telling you that I am the firstborn son of my family.”
CHAPTER 4
“I did not think you would come.” Darcy met her at the gate, Ceres in tow.
“I changed my mind several times before deciding that whatever this is between us, I will see it through.”
“Your thoughts are my own. May I?” He reached to lift her to the horse. They were both very aware of the servants watching them.“A little farther today, Miss Elizabeth?”
Vampire Darcy's Desire Page 6