Vampire Darcy's Desire

by Regina Jeffers

  “What does it say, Fitzwilliam?” Elizabeth watched him as he read the latest report from one of the many investigators he had hired to find Wickham. It was two days after Christmas, and by silent agreement, they had not discussed Wickham or the curse since his declaration on Christmas day of wanting time away from the obsession.

  He tossed the paper on the desk with disgust.The information brought his reprieve to a close. For those few hours, he had enjoyed being simply the master of Pemberley, overseeing his properties, scouring the newspapers for political pieces that would affect his tenants or his business holdings, treating Georgiana in an attentive way, and stealing romantic moments with his wife. This could be his life if not for an ancient hex, and Darcy did not want it to end. “We have news from one of Bramwell’s agents. He located Wickham’s home.”

  Elizabeth moved quickly to grab the letter. “Where?” Her eyes searched the words for the answer.

  “Near Chillingham.” Darcy crossed the room, putting space between him and the damnable missive. Hands resting on the sill, he took up a sentry position at the window overlooking the south lawn, where he had wrestled in the snow with Elizabeth only a week earlier.

  Recognizing his foul mood, Elizabeth first put the offending letter in her pocket so that she might read it more closely later. Then she encircled his waist with her arms and rested her head against the lean, strong muscles of Darcy’s back.“What causes your grief, my Husband?” Elizabeth knew the letter to be related to his discontent, but she knew not the exact reason.“Did not Bramwell’s men do a thorough job?”

  Darcy sighed.“On the contrary; they were very professional.”

  “Then I do not understand.Are you not happy to know where we might find Wickham?”

  Darcy held her to him, clasping her hands tightly. He did not answer for several moments, choosing instead to keep up his vigil and to enjoy the warmth of Elizabeth’s body along his back. “I

  Elizabeth released her hold and came to stand in front of him. “Will you not search Wickham out?”

  “For what purpose? The chance to get myself or you killed?” He looked away, not wishing to see the censure in her sea-green eyes.“I will not put you in danger again, Elizabeth. I will not risk it. You are too precious to me.”

  Elizabeth’s hands balled into fists at her sides, her frustration evident. “But we must stop him!”

  He frowned. “Why is it my duty to protect everyone from Wickham?” Darcy, at a loss to explain why things had changed, stalked away from her, horribly and disturbingly uncomfortable. “I willingly accept the responsibility of safeguarding my family and my tenants. I would even defend the village. But how can I accept the responsibility for all of England?”

  Elizabeth stormed across the room. “You sound like those weak-willed members of Parliament who are eager to forgive the French just for the sake of peace!”

  “Even England cannot protect the whole world, Elizabeth. It can only effectively protect its own borders.That is what I want; I want to preserve what we have. Do you not understand? Am I not defeating Wickham simply by doing that very thing? By not letting his evil overtake me?”

  “We have done all this just to let Wickham go?” she asked and burst into sobs.

  Seeing her so distraught, Darcy scooped her into his arms and took Elizabeth onto his lap as he sat down in a nearby chair.“Have not the past few days been glorious? Just you and me and the hope springing from every wall of Pemberley? We can have that every day, Elizabeth.Wickham cannot reach us here.”

  “He brought his destruction to the neighborhood before.Why would he not come again?” she countered.

  “Because when he was here before, it was when I was learning about Wickham and he about me.” Darcy lifted her chin with the first two fingers of his right hand. “I would never allow that to

  Elizabeth’s bottom lip trembled. “Then we just…go on with our lives?”

  Darcy traced her lips with his fingertips. “Do you not want a family, Elizabeth? I have thought of little else for days. We could adopt, just as you said before. We could make everyone think you to be with child—a pillow for padding—then off we go to one of the hundred foundling homes in London or Brighton or even Edinburgh. It will be our secret.”

  “What of my maid? Would she not know?” Elizabeth inquired skeptically.

  Excited by the possibilities, Darcy now kissed her freely. “We pay her extra to keep our counsel, or I become your handmaid for several months. Our servants would view me as an eccentric, doting husband and father. After all, I have been seen upon numerous occasions kissing my wife.As your time for delivery draws near, we will be called away on a family emergency, or we can go abroad, and you will deliver before we return.”

  “But I will have no milk for the child!”

  “We will employ a wet nurse,” he said. “Choose a son or a daughter; I do not care.We can repeat the process again in a year or two. How many children would you like? I considered two, but a half dozen would make me even happier.”

  “You wish me to miraculously have six children?” Elizabeth wondered aloud.

  “We will need to come up with creative tales, but I have no doubt we can do so.”

  “Georgiana’s children would be denied their birthright with such a ruse.”

  “My sister has a large dowry. She will marry well, and her family will not suffer. We can leave them an inheritance. Think about it. We end the curse with my passing, and the children we raise with a responsibility to the land will carry on—keeping Pemberley and my family’s legacy great.We have the resources to raise a

  “What if I want my own children?”

  Darcy looked serious.“Then I will swallow my pride and allow you a discreet assignation.”

  “I do not want to make love with anyone but you, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth felt like screaming.

  He lowered his voice to share a delicate secret. “I have been thinking about that also.There are ways, Elizabeth,…ways I could pleasure you without…without our being…together.”

  What he said both embarrassed and excited Elizabeth. “I said I wanted to make love with you, Fitzwilliam,” she asserted.

  “Then we will make love,Vixen. I will send for one hundred French letters.They will prevent your ability to conceive a child—or we can use treated sponges.”

  Elizabeth slid off his lap and strode away from him. “I was thinking of something more intimate—something spontaneous shared between a husband and a wife.”

  Darcy rose to his feet to follow her. Coming up behind her, he started to embrace her, but then thought better of it. “Elizabeth, do you not understand?” His voice sounded calm, but his hunched shoulders and taut expression said otherwise. “It can be however we want it to be.We will name our own terms.”

  “This is madness!” Elizabeth threw up her hands in exasperation. “What have you done with my sane and sensible husband?” She started for the door.

  “Please, Elizabeth,…I am begging you,” he called after her.

  Elizabeth stopped suddenly and whirled around to face him. “Begging? That is not begging, Fitzwilliam.That is demanding—it is manipulating!”And she strode off.

  She was nearly to the door when his voice, so soft and so full of grief and pleading, froze her in her place.“This is begging.”

  Elizabeth turned and the sight of her proud, powerful husband on his knees immediately brought tears to her eyes. She looked on in silence.“Oh, Fitzwilliam,” she sighed before rushing forward and dropping to her own knees in front of him; her arms encircled his

  Darcy made the decision the moment she stormed for the door. He would do anything to keep her with him. Their weeks together were the only joy he could remember. Elizabeth offered paradise; without her, there was no hope—no happiness.

  For Elizabeth, the sight of Darcy on his knees ripped her heart in two. She knew him—knew what it cost her husband to beg her to agree. She also knew deep in her heart she could never deny him. She existed only to pl
ease him—to worship the man she embraced. Darcy pleaded in supplication for her agreement, and Elizabeth met his prayers with those of her own.

  The next two days unfolded blissfully; they were some of the best of his eight and twenty years. Nothing troubled the exquisite serenity. He rode out with his steward to inspect several of the storage barns for possible repair, settled a tenant dispute over property lines, and listened to the new vicar’s plea for a village school. In the early afternoon of the second day, Darcy sat with Georgiana at the pianoforte while she practiced a new piece, even joining her on the more difficult parts.They then played several duets.

  At night, although they still did not consummate their marriage, he held Elizabeth close and indulged in new intimacies. He knew it was only a matter of time and of trust before they knew the full range of pleasure. He once again experienced her femininity, as Elizabeth now playfully called it. In fact, he left a distinctive red mark at the base of her neck—his badge of love. Surprisingly, she returned the favor, seductively nibbling at the nape of his neck, leaving a raw place, which nearly drove him insane with passion.

  She sat in a winged chair looking out over the prospect, attempting to embroider a handkerchief for Darcy, but Elizabeth’s mind rested purely on the man himself. It might shock him to realize that she found his laugh soulful—and addictive. She would do anything to make him laugh out loud. Her husband was a tall, supremely

  “Ah, there you are,” the image spoke from behind her, and Elizabeth turned her head slowly to look into ocean blue eyes, the kind in which one could drown.

  Elizabeth shook her head to rid herself of the vision and focus on Darcy’s countenance as he approached.“Do you need me, Sir?”

  A smile turned up the corners of his mouth.“I always need you, Elizabeth.” Darcy’s voice warmed her as much as his smile did. “Actually, I thought we might share a walk; the sun warms the day.”

  Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. “I would enjoy just that. Wait while I find a pelisse and a scarf.

  “I will be in my study when you are ready.” She started past him and then stopped suddenly to caress his cheek before hurrying on her way.Watching the sway of her hips as she left the room, Darcy chuckled. Elizabeth’s spontaneity gave life to his household.

  “I am ready,” she announced as she bounded into the room a quarter hour later. Seeing Darcy deep in thought, reading a letter, she paused close to his desk. Unable to interpret his expression, she asked,“Bad news?”

  “Not exactly,” he mumbled, but did not put the letter down.“It is from Miss Bingley.”

  “Caroline Bingley?” Elizabeth sat down suddenly. “Is it to do with Mr. Bingley?”

  Darcy looked up, hearing the anxiety in her voice. “No,” he tried to assure her. “I suppose it is Caroline’s congratulations upon our marriage.” He tucked the letter into an envelope. Then he opened his desk drawer and placed the letter inside.

  Elizabeth recognized how Darcy avoided speaking the truth.“I am sure Miss Bingley extended no such feelings towards me.Wishing me congratulations after I stole the prize upon which she had set her heart is unlikely.”

  Darcy’s eyes sparkled. “The prize? Shall I consider myself so worthy?” he half teased.

  “I am certain Miss Bingley held you, my Husband, in high regard. As for me, I took pity on you; as I recall, you were quite insensate.” She lifted her chin in challenge.

  “I suspect I was.” Darcy winked at her. “Thank you for your humanity, my love.”

  “Well, tell me.” Elizabeth sat back in her chair, straightening the seams of her outer garments. “I must hear of Miss Bingley’s felicitations.”

  “Are you confident that you wish to hear what she writes?” Darcy leaned back, retrieving the letter from the desk.“It will likely give you some offense. Miss Bingley often lacks tact.”

  Elizabeth took a position—straight-backed and haughty, even defiant. “There is little Miss Bingley could say that would surprise me.”

  “I never doubted your lack of surprise, but I would not intentionally give you displeasure, Elizabeth. Some parts of the letter will annoy you, at the least.”

  “I would still prefer to hear it, Fitzwilliam.”

  Darcy sighed with resignation.“If you wish, my love.”

  23 December

  Mr. Darcy,

  As the holiday looms upon us, I reflect on the many times your family and mine joined for the celebration.Those days serve as a measure of how Christmas should occur, with good friends and family warmly enjoying one another’s company.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy could see Elizabeth arch an eyebrow. Elizabeth and Caroline Bingley had a rivalry when they were at Netherfield together. Used to having her way, Miss Bingley often took offense at Elizabeth’s frankness and open, natural manner.

  This year, our days will seem less lively, as you and dear Georgiana are at Pemberley, and we reside at Mr. Hurst’s estate in Hampshire.

  Charles shared your precipitous news upon his return to Langley

  Darcy looked up from the letter when Elizabeth snorted in disgust.

  “Let us leave this.” He began to rise from behind the desk, but Elizabeth waved him back to his seat. Stalling, he pretended to look for his place again before he read once more.

  We were equally chagrined by the fact that Charles spent time with Miss Bennet and her family in Cheapside. My naïve brother does not understand, as you now must, how such connections very materially lessen the Bennet sisters’ chances of marrying men of any consideration in the world. Mrs. Darcy must thank her lucky stars under the circumstances.We suppose Charles purposely chose to not share news of your nuptials for fear we would disapprove; he originally sent word only of finding you in health.

  “Disapprove?” Elizabeth protested.“More than likely, Mr. Bingley simply wanted a few moments of peace and quiet without the harpies….” She broke off the rest of her retort when she noted the warning in Darcy’s eyes.

  “I told you this would be a source of irritation. I suggest we go for our walk instead.”

  Elizabeth tried to look ashamed of what she had said and thought, but she did not feel as such.“How can Miss Bingley carry on so in the name of civility and manners? I understand her disappointment in losing your attentions to me, but I do not understand the venom she spreads in the name of courtesy. Jane was nothing but kind to the woman.”

  Darcy put the letter in a drawer, placing it out of Elizabeth’s

  Elizabeth reached for him, but then stopped. “Why do you wish for me not to read the end of the letter?” she said accusingly.

  Darcy forced his countenance and his voice to remain calm. “I have no reason but your peace of mind.”

  “Fitzwilliam, we do not lie to each other. Why do you do so now?”

  Darcy knelt beside her chair. “I do not wish you to read the letter because Miss Bingley disparages your looks and your manners and attributes such censure to me as its source. I would not have you doubt my true feelings. I sincerely wish only your happiness; you must believe me. Let me place the letter in the fire, and let nothing come between us.”

  Elizabeth caressed his cheek.“I should not allow the woman to goad me so.”

  He kissed the tip of her nose.“A walk will do us both a service.”

  “Burn the letter, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth made the decision before standing.“I need some fresh air.”

  Darcy took her hand and headed towards the door, but he pulled up before they crossed the threshold. Looking back at the desk, he flushed for his absentmindedness. “I forgot.You have two letters from Miss Bennet.”

  Elizabeth considered returning to read the family news in her sister’s letters. She missed her family, more than she would admit to Darcy, especially her father and Jane. Sometimes she wished they were nearer, so she might discuss her marriage with one of them. She and Darcy could use the sensibility of her sister and the quick perceptiveness of her father. At barely twenty years, she often felt inadequate
to be Darcy’s wife. With a look of longing, she said, “They will wait. I need time with my husband right now.”

  Darcy smiled down at her, slowly tracing the outline of her face with the tip of his finger.“Your husband is blessed by your amiability, Mrs. Darcy. His affection for you deepens by the day.”

  CHAPTER 22

  A little more than an hour later, Elizabeth wandered back into Darcy’s study. Finding the letters from her sister still lying on the silver salver, she picked them up and headed to her favorite chair. Missing her family, she brought the letters to her nose and sniffed, hoping to find the scent of her sister there. Holding them close to her chest, she relished the anticipation of reading the latest news. Finally, slipping off her shoes and curling her feet up under her, she snuggled into the warmth of the chair.The letters remained on her lap for several minutes; she purposely waited to open them, enjoying the knowledge that in a few minutes she would connect with her former life.