Vampire Darcy's Desire

by Regina Jeffers

  Once the coachman let down the carriage steps, Darcy descended first. He helped Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley alight, and then he reached into the coach to take Elizabeth’s hand.“Welcome to your new home, Mrs. Darcy,” he said softly.

  She glanced up at the pink gold brick façade of the house; the late afternoon winter sun reflected off the rows of windows, making the place glow with light.“What is the superlative form of magnificent?” she murmured. She took his proffered arm, allowing him to lead her forward, all the while keeping up a litany of adjectives to describe Pemberley, intent on finding the right one. “Splendid—resplendent—glorious—grandiose—sublime—stately—superb—imposing—radiant.”

  Darcy chuckled at her nervousness.“I believe the house cannot live up to such praise,” he whispered close to Elizabeth’s ear.

  “Was I saying those words out loud?” Elizabeth was shocked.

  “You were, my love.” He locked her arm close to his side. “Let us meet the assembled staff.”

  Elizabeth glanced up to find two lines of servants gracing the entrance steps to the house. She took a deep, steadying breath and allowed Darcy to usher her forward. With each of the servants,

  “Behold the conquering hero,” Darcy joked after excusing the staff to their various duties. He lifted her gloved hand and planted a kiss on the inside of her wrist.Then Darcy replaced her hand on his arm to make the last of the introductions. “These three, Elizabeth”—he gestured to the remaining servants in the front foyer—“are the real experts on Pemberley. Among them, they have nearly seventy years of service to the Darcys. They keep the house and land running in my absence. This is Mr. Harold, my steward; Mr. Lockwood, my butler; and Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper.” The men bowed and Mrs. Reynolds curtsied. “It is with great pleasure that I present my wife, Elizabeth Darcy.”

  Mr. Lockwood spoke first. “Mrs. Darcy, we were elated to hear of the master’s marriage and the fact of his return to Pemberley for Christmas. I speak for the entire staff in saying your presence here is a welcome renewal of this household.”

  “That is very kind of you, Mr. Lockwood.” Elizabeth fought back tears.These people loved Darcy and wanted the best for him; they wanted to see him well settled, with children in the nursery. She regretted that part of their dream would never happen. She made a silent vow to help Georgiana marry a man she adored and find domestic happiness. Pemberley would lose the Darcy name, but Georgiana’s children would bring the estate what Elizabeth’s marriage could not give it.

  She received like praise from the other two before they all returned to their tasks. Georgiana withdrew to her quarters, followed closely by Mrs.Annesley.

  “Alone, my dear,” Darcy leaned down to whisper close to her ear.Then he winked at her before saying loudly, for the sake of the servants, “May I show you some of the lower rooms before we freshen up?”

  “That would be pleasant.” Her voice trembled.With the departure

  “Would you rather see your chamber first?” Darcy felt her sag against him.

  Elizabeth looked up at him sheepishly. “Would you be offended? I do want to see the entire house, but it is a bit daunting. Might I bolster my reserves first?”

  “We will change for dinner and then call upon Georgiana to add her insights about Pemberley. I am eager for you to see the house and grounds, but we will have a lifetime together.The house and grounds can wait.”

  “A lifetime? A lifetime with you, Fitzwilliam—how horrendous, my dear!” She winked at her handsome husband.

  He chortled and bent down to kiss her on the cheek. “Yes, my darling, it will be horrendous for me, too.”They ascended the main staircase, arm in arm.

  CHAPTER 18

  Wickham waited in one of the out buildings of the village of Meryton. By changing himself into the image of a new recruit, he had discovered there were no productive clues into the deaths of the dark-skinned bar maid or the recently dowered Miss King. One of the noncommissioned officers had told him there had been no repeat attacks and Colonel Forster felt the deaths were the crimes of a drifter who had moved on.Wickham found such conjectures amusing.The average British citizen held no understanding of the evils of the world.And it gave him some sense of security to know no one looked for him in these cases.

  After determining that his acquaintance James Denny was on assignment out of the country—and no one would be the wiser—Wickham waited for one of the Bennet sisters to attend their aunt in town.As far as he could tell from his first stay in the area, one or more of the Bennets came to the township daily; but although he had waited for several hours, none of the Bennets appeared on that day.

  Finally, he spotted Charlotte Lucas and one of her sisters entering the outer limits of the village. Assured of his appearance,Wickham stepped from behind the door and strode towards the Lucas sisters.

  “Mr. Denny,” Charlotte Lucas greeted him and offering him a curtsy.Wickham smiled at her.“It is pleasant to meet you today.”

  The woman was plain—as plain as they came. He preferred his converts to be attractive. From the Bennets, he would choose the oldest sister, Jane Bennet, or maybe the buxom Lydia Bennet.As far as he was concerned, Elizabeth Bennet Darcy’s beauty ranked third of the five sisters. However, he needed to keep all his options open. Wickham thought that if he could not capture one of Mrs. Darcy’s sisters, Charlotte Lucas might do. She was known as Elizabeth

  “Thank you, Mr. Denny.You are most kind.” Charlotte blushed.

  “May I walk with the two of you?” He offered an arm to both ladies, but he paid little attention to the younger sister. Although the girl was much more attractive than her older sibling, Charlotte Lucas had what he needed right then: intimate details of Elizabeth Darcy’s life.

  They walked the length of a street, and Maria Lucas pleaded to be excused to the local mercantile. Wickham hated niceties: He thought of himself as a man of action. Societal demands bored and irritated him—too many rules. He had to keep reminding himself that, to Charlotte Lucas, he was James Denny. He waited with seeming patience while Miss Lucas agreed to excuse Maria, and then Wickham began a seduction.Today, he would seek only information, nothing more. Alone with Charlotte, he favored her with one of his best smiles.“Have you had word from Miss Elizabeth?”

  Charlotte waved to an acquaintance before turning her attention to the junior officer. “Oh, yes, Lizzy writes of her marriage plans. Of course, I have had no news from her in several days, but that is to be expected.” She relaxed in his presence. Wickham thought how foolish that would be under normal circumstances.

  “Then you approve of Miss Elizabeth’s marriage?” Wickham knew all about the wedding, but he needed to make small talk—needed to continue building her trust.

  “Lizzy always said she would marry only for love, and although Mr. Darcy is quite wealthy, I must believe Elizabeth feels deeply for the man.As Lizzy’s intimate friend, I cannot see her marrying, even for a man of Mr. Darcy’s consequence, without true affection between them.”

  Despite how much he hated to admit it,Wickham held similar assumptions. From what he knew of the Darcys, they held each other in high regard—although he hoped to change that. “With such a fortuitous match, Mrs. Bennet must be beside herself with happiness.”

  Charlotte laughed.“So she told my mother—several times.”

  “It is a shame Mrs. Darcy’s family and friends were denied the pleasure of sharing her special day.”

  “Miss Bennet was with Lizzy, and her mother’s brother lives in London. I am sorry not to have been there, but if Lizzy is happy, then I am satisfied. Mr. Darcy did not want to wait, as Christmas approaches. I imagine that with the winter, the roads to Derbyshire are often not passable. He wanted no delay once Lizzy agreed to his suit. It was all very romantic; after leaving with his friends, Mr. Darcy rode back to Longbourn to claim her heart. What woman could resist such gallantry?”

  The retelling of the romance irritated Wickham, and he fought to hide his feeling. Darcy had ret
urned to Netherfield to thwart Wickham’s plans for revenge. Somehow, Darcy had learned of his abduction of Elizabeth;Wickham still had not solved that mystery. Darcy had married Elizabeth Bennet because her father had found them together in the deserted house. He had witnessed the scene himself. Darcy’s constant need to do the honorable thing sickened Wickham. Again, he reminded himself he was James Denny, who would be happy for the couple.Aloud, he said,“Mr. Darcy’s behavior surprises me; I never suspected his preference for Miss Elizabeth.”

  “None of us did, Mr. Denny, but we share in their joy just the same.”

  “Did Miss Bennet remain in London after the ceremony?” On his way to Meryton, Wickham had worked out a detailed plan to claim one of Elizabeth Darcy’s sisters as part of his reprisal and as a warning to the woman to withdraw her support for Darcy. He had decided on Jane Bennet, who appeared to be Mrs. Darcy’s favorite sister; she was also the prettiest one. Do I need to make another choice?

  “Mrs. Bennet reports that Mr. Bingley returned to London. I am sure Jane’s mother would not allow her eldest daughter to leave if it meant a like withdrawal from Mr. Bingley’s attentions. Mrs. Bennet has never hidden her desire to marry off each of her daughters to a suitable match. Mr. Bingley would fill that role admirably.”

  Although he took no interest in local gossip,Wickham chuckled.

  Charlotte appeared amused. “You seem awfully interested in the Bennet family.”

  Wickham shifted uncomfortably; he must not raise her suspicions, especially if he wished to abduct one of Elizabeth’s sisters. He forced his body to lounge back, giving the impression of being perfectly at ease, although his mind speculatively weighed all she shared.“They are lively girls and gentlemen admire such amiability, but my real concern comes from their sudden withdrawal from the company of men such as me.You would tell me, Miss Lucas, if you knew of any offense I unknowingly offered the Bennets. I would need to beg their forgiveness if that be so.”

  Charlotte looked shocked by his words. “Heaven forbid, Mr. Denny! I hear nothing but praise on your behalf,” she protested.

  Stepping up his game, Wickham assured her, “It pleases me to hear so; I would be chagrined to know otherwise.”

  “I would say Mr. Bennet’s concern for his daughters’ safety outweighs Mrs. Bennet’s search for husbands for her girls.” Charlotte laughed, as if sharing a well-kept secret.

  Glancing at his hands,Wickham’s heart pounded in panic.The crown marking on the back of his hand was becoming clearer. He normally wore gloves to cover the mark, but he removed them when he sat with her on the bench. He needed to withdraw; his ability to shift to James Denny was coming to an end. “Even that opinion gives me some comfort, Miss Lucas.”

  Charlotte now stared at him.

  Wickham smiled, although her close inspection made him uneasy. Has the image faded? “Is something in error, Miss Lucas?”

  Charlotte snapped out of her deep thoughts and flushed with color. “It is nothing really; just a trick of the light. I know you to have brown eyes, but just now they appeared a storm-cloud grey.”

  Wickham forced the panic away, but he did not break their

  “I suppose,” she mumbled, but did not look away.

  Wickham removed the fob and glanced at his watch.“Unfortunately, Miss Lucas, I must report back to the barracks. I hope you will excuse me.” He stood and offered her his hand. Charlotte rose, too. “I hope to see you and your family at some of the entertainments in the coming weeks.”

  “I would expect so, Mr. Denny.”

  “Until then.” Wickham executed a quick bow and strode purposefully away. He needed to find cover; the spell slipped as he walked.

  Ducking into the stable, he darted behind some tackle, before leaning over at the waist and gasping for air. What happened? he wondered. Never before had the image faded until he was ready for it to do so. He had escaped just in time. The woman noted his eyes—the difference. He had counted on the ability to shape shift to dupe his prey. He might need to rethink his plan for the Bennets.

  A few minutes later, from the protection of the corral, he watched Charlotte Lucas make her way towards the village center. The woman was very common—sharp intellectually—but never attractive. He suspected, however, she would make someone a good wife—the plain ones always did.They possessed no other hold on a man. Sometimes he regretted not having chosen a woman like Miss Lucas, but he had fallen in love with Ellender D’Arcy, a striking beauty like none other—a witty, sensual woman—indulged and pampered—elegant and arrogant. He loved her even now, but she had never returned his regard. Seorais Winchcombe lacked the breeding—lacked the name. Ellender D’Arcy had decided on Arawn Benning, a man with a title, and she had traded Wickham’s life to save her precious Lord Benning. It still pained him to remember how she had betrayed him. Ellender D’Arcy had doomed him to an endless life—one of fiendish desires—of a ghoulish hunger—a brutish monster.

  Pushing the memories aside,Wickham turned in place twice

  Although he watched the Longbourn estate for two days, the Bennet girls strayed no farther than the gravel walk that led to the copse. He decided on the youngest girl, Miss Lydia. Mary Bennet, a studious girl, even less comely than Miss Lucas, would never do, and the one they called Kitty, although mildly attractive, much along the lines of her sister Elizabeth, was too moody—too difficult to determine what might tempt her.

  No, Lydia would be the one. Being the youngest, she was sure to be a favorite among the family, although he found her continuous chatter and flirtations annoying. But Lydia Bennet would make an easy mark—gullible—unsophisticated—foolish.

  He noted with approval that Miss Lydia was friends with Colonel Forster’s new wife. Only that afternoon he had witnessed Lydia Bennet’s silliness. Lurking among the trees, disguised as a stray dog, he had eavesdropped on their conversation.

  “Good heaven! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” she had exclaimed with girlish woe to Mrs. Forster.

  “Whatever do you mean, my dear?” Mrs. Forster had captured Lydia’s hand and patted it in sympathy.

  Lydia whined, “My sisters are still able to eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments, but I take no pleasure in such pursuits. I would prefer a ball every night for entertainment. Papa is so cruel!”

  “Do not fret so, my friend, for I will send my husband, the colonel, to speak to Mr. Bennet. Surely he can convince your father to let you accompany me to the Christmas festivities. The colonel will vouch for your safety.”

  Lydia collapsed on a bench next to her friend.“Oh, I do hope so!”

  Wickham had withdrawn before they had spotted him. He had an outlet—a way to get to Lydia Bennet! He would call on her as himself, establish his interest in a relationship with her, and when he knew all the details of the military celebration, he would spring

  The tour of the house resumed as Darcy led Elizabeth into the dining parlor. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which they descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good, and she looked on the whole scene—the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it—with delight. As they passed into other rooms these objects were taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; and Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine with less of splendor and more real elegance than she had anticipated.

  Darcy came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms; they spoke not for several minutes. “Dare I ask your thoughts?” he inquired.

  His voice—rumbling and masculine—stirred her, making her stomach fill with butterfly wings. Automatically, Elizabeth leaned back—sealing he
r spine to his chest—and Darcy hardened with her closeness.

  “And of this place,” she spoke with disbelief, “I am to be mistress?” She turned in his arms, burying her face in his chest. “At Overton House, I stood a chance of being an acceptable wife, but how am I to be that here?”

  Darcy tightened his hold on her.What could he say to allay her fears? He did not marry Elizabeth to make her mistress of his estate; he married her to protect her and because of the need he held for her.“I am away from Pemberley for months at a time, but the estate continues to function without my presence.”

  “Then you have no need of me!” she wailed.

  Darcy chuckled.“I did not consider whether you could run my household when I became obsessed with kissing your luscious lips.”To prove his point, he raised her chin and lowered his mouth to hers.

  When they separated, she said,“At your club, they will ask, Mr. Darcy, how is your new wife? And you will reply, She is a terrible mistress of my estate, but Mrs. Darcy is the best kisser I have ever known.”

  Darcy smiled wickedly. “I did not say you were the best I have ever known.”

  Elizabeth suddenly shoved against him, ready to escape his taunt, but Darcy clamped his hands together behind her back.“You are a cad, Sir—a true blackguard!” she retorted hotly.

  “Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” he joked, holding her tightly to him. Darcy took one hand to cup her face, turning it to him. “Elizabeth, I married you because I need you—beyond reason—I need you.” His breathing became shallow with desire.

  “You need me—for what, Mr. Darcy?” Her lips took on a slight pout.

  “I need you to…you are the one I turn to when I need reason…when I need courage. I need your kiss—your touch—your empathy. I need the excitement I see in your eyes when you practice fencing or riding Ceres or waltzing. I need to feel alive, and only you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, can do that. I could hire someone to run the estate, but no one could take your place. Do you understand that?”