Vampire Darcy's Desire

by Regina Jeffers

  Assured that he could do nothing that night, he let himself out the kitchen door. He still was not safe if what his drinking consorts said was true. Damon slipped the crucifix from his pocket and lifted his sword in readiness for any attack. He wove his way among the trees and climbed the hill, but when he reached the cemetery, Damon circled the hedgerow on the outside. Loudly repeating every prayer he could remember, he vigilantly watched as the fog he thought to be part of the countryside congregated solely in the church’s cemetery. From it, specters formed and disintegrated before his eyes. Some challenged his progress, but all retreated from the raised silver weapon he carried and from the sign of the Lord’s forgiveness.

  Reaching the road to the inn, he followed the embankment; the mist trailed him, but the spectral provocations—strange, unheard presences—kept their distance. He congratulated himself for leaving the horses at the inn.A nervous mount would serve no master. Damon kept up his litany of invocations and refused to look about to see what might await him. He figured the prayers would not hurt, and they definitely made him feel safer.

  When he arrived at the inn, Peter let him in through the door. Damon had set the man on guard when he left for Wickford Manor, and he was thankful for his foresight. He handed the garlic and the crucifix to Peter.“Keep them close,” he warned.

  “I saw what followed you, Colonel. If these keep that evil away, ye will not be able to pry them from me.” The coachman bolted the door.“Will they not try to come in?” He listened closely to the howls of the night.

  “This is more than that for which we all bargained, Peter, but those creatures must be invited in by someone who lives here. No one will do that.” Damon leaned back against the door to steady his nerves.

  The servant moved closer, fearing that someone might hear. “Did ye find him, Colonel? The Master? He be alive?”

  Damon gave a curt nod. “Now I must figure out how to get Mr. Darcy out of that hellhole.”

  “Bless you, Sir.” Peter started for the pallet he would sleep upon that night.“When ye be ready, I be ready, Sir.The Master be a good man.”

  “That he is, Peter.” Damon moved towards the stairs.“I need to tell Mrs. Darcy what I know.”

  “The Mistress will certainly be glad to hear it.” He settled onto the straw-stuffed mattress.

  Damon let his gaze travel up the stairs, resting on Elizabeth’s door. “Mrs. Darcy is an exceptional woman. Good night, Peter.” He knew she would be awake, waiting for his news. Slowly, he climbed the steps; they had a daunting task ahead of them. What if we cannot save Darcy?

  “Someone looks for you, Darcy.” Wickham paced the room, agitated by the intrusion into his home.

  Darcy tried not to react; he forced his breathing to remain even, but the joy of knowing another knew of his capture played havoc with his composure. He kept his eyes closed, fearing Wickham could read his countenance.

  Wickham leaned down, his face only inches from Darcy’s.“Do you want to know who it was?”

  Darcy opened his eyes slowly and smiled.“As you appear intent on telling me, I see no reason to waste my energy with guessing.”

  Wickham walked away casually, although he knew apprehension. “It was your beautiful wife, Mrs. Darcy.”Wickham straddled a straight-backed chair, turning it to where he could watch Darcy’s reaction.

  For a split second, Darcy’s heart skipped a beat. He did not want Elizabeth to put herself in danger for him, but then the truth flashed in Wickham’s eyes. “You are quite amusing, Wickham, but the thought of my wife being here is ludicrous. I told you from the beginning, Elizabeth left with your seduction of her sister. However, if that were not true, and my wife were here, you have not enough ghouls in your congregation to hold me in these chains, for she would not stop until I was free.Trust me,Wickham, there is no way you could defeat her. She is more than either of us can handle.”

  Wickham sat in complete silence; Darcy chose to ignore him and closed his eyes again. Finally, Wickham barked out a forced laugh. “You have me there, Darcy.Your rescuer was a man. Maybe you would have been better off with your wife; at least, she would not turn tail and run.” He stood with that statement. “The man favored you in some ways, Darcy—not quite as tall, however. Should I send for reinforcements?”

  “Probably a stranger enticed by tales of the unknown.” Darcy hoped to convince his enemy to ignore the incursion.

  “I can smell human blood.” Wickham looked off, as if no longer seeing Darcy. “Did you know that? I smell it as easily as I once smelled a rose. It is metallic and bittersweet. Have you ever tasted it, Darcy? It is addictive.”

  At first the words were offensive, but then Darcy’s pity replaced his anger; and despite his personal loathing of Wickham’s baseness, Darcy suddenly felt empathy for what once must have been a proud and handsome man—a man who loved a woman too well and lost everything because of it.“I have not tasted it—at least, not in the way you mean,” Darcy spoke softly, not wishing to break the understanding between them.

  Wickham laughed lightly at his own show of weakness. “That was a foolish question, was it not? Of course, you never succumbed to the noxious hunger that consumes me.You are too honorable to allow the poison to cross your lips.”

  Darcy shook his head, a deep sadness overcoming him. “I simply want it to end,Wickham. It is not honor which drives me; it is the fear that my child—my son—could know such despondency —could live an inconsolable life. I would not term that honorable—it is pure cowardice.”

  Wickham watched as Darcy once more took up his resigned vigil against the wall. An understanding passed between them; he imagined that in another lifetime, he and Darcy might even be friends, but circumstances prevented that ever becoming true. Wickham respected Darcy as much as he abhorred him. “Never fear, Darcy,” he said as a way of parting.“I may yet choose to do the honorable thing and fight you to the death, so to speak.”

  Darcy tried to relax the pain in his shoulders and arms.Wickham had imprisoned him twenty-four hours earlier, and other than the occasional break he negotiated to meet his personal needs, he remained restrained by the shackles. Wickham, as he suspected, brought him no food or drink; he was to die of starvation, and Darcy accepted it.“You will let me know when you choose,Wickham,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and trying to welcome sleep. He heard the door close in front of him and knew when the bolt slid into the latch, but Darcy remained in repose. Images of Elizabeth filled his mind; remembrances of their time together over-spread his thoughts as sleep found him.

  CHAPTER 26

  The door opened before he knocked, and Elizabeth reached out immediately and pulled him into the room. “You promised,” she lambasted him, “you would do nothing to put yourself in danger!” Elizabeth swatted at the colonel’s chest. “I have been at my wit’s end with worry since I learned of your excursion.”

  It pleased him that Elizabeth worried on his behalf.“Then you do not wish to know what I learned?”

  Elizabeth pulled him to the table, forcibly shoving the colonel into a chair. “Tell me you found Fitzwilliam.” Her voice held her fears.

  “My cousin is alive.”

  Elizabeth collapsed, burying her face in her hands; sobs of joy racked her shoulders. “Thank God,” she moaned. The colonel rested his hand on her back in comfort. Allowing herself the moment of relief, she dramatically caught her breath, dashing away her tears with the knuckles of her hands. Raising her head, her eyes fell on Damon’s countenance.“Tell me everything.”

  The gentleman in him told Damon Fitzwilliam to protect her from the terror he had experienced in Wickham’s house, but he held nothing back. He described the horror of the lost souls found in the cemetery and the compelling dance in the Wickford hall. He told her in detail of the young girl’s seduction and of Wickham’s bloody feast.

  Elizabeth gasped, “It must be Lydia!” Her voice shook with anger and with remorse.“My poor dear Lydia; she knows no rest.”

  “We will tend to your
sister, Elizabeth.”

  “Go on,” she insisted.

  Then the colonel related what he had seen of Darcy’s bondage. Elizabeth continued to fight back the tears, but she listened closely to what he said. “It is my opinion that we need to find a way to

  Elizabeth half smiled. “This tells me that Wickham fears my husband more than Fitzwilliam had realized. Over the past few months, Mr. Darcy has opened himself up to his once-latent powers. Wickham has my husband’s hands chained behind him because if Fitzwilliam extends his arms to the sides, he can control light and time—freezing the latter in place. Wickham has the power of the wind.”

  “That explains the sound I heard while in hiding.”

  Elizabeth glanced at the mantel clock.“Then we are agreed; we will go after Darcy in the morning after Wickham’s followers return to their graves.”

  “Is there some way to lure Wickham away from the house?” The colonel considered all the options.

  “My dealings with Wickham are limited,” Elizabeth thought out loud, “but what I know of him is that he is a performer. He pretends to be a regular man, one owning a well-run household. In just the same way, he put on a display for your eyes. He used Lydia as a warning. I suspect Wickham knew you were in the house.”

  “Then you think he will come looking for us—for me?” Damon began to think as she did.

  Elizabeth sat back in satisfaction.“While you were enjoying the taproom, I questioned the maids and the hostler. The master of Wickford Manor watched this inn from early morning until well after dark. Wickham suspected that someone would come for Fitzwilliam. Luckily, we arrived so late that he had no time to prepare. I believe we should set a diversion for tomorrow.”

  “Excellent! I excel at diversions.”The colonel rubbed his hands in anticipation. “The way I see it,Wickham knows I am here, but he probably does not realize who I am. We have had no direct encounters before now.Why do we not send him on a wild goose chase? If he likes public displays, let us send a pretender riding towards Berwick. I suspect that Wickham will follow—at least, initially. That should give us time to get to Darcy.”

  “Whom should we trust with the task?”

  “Peter.” The colonel knew that without a doubt. “He is most eager to be of service. I will put him in one of my uniforms; he can take Trident.We just need Wickham away for a few minutes.”

  Things settled, Elizabeth moved to end their discussion. “We need some rest.” She stood and offered her hand.

  The colonel followed her to his feet. “Will you be well alone, my dear?”

  “I will, Colonel. Find yourself a real bed tonight.You deserve a proper sleep.” Elizabeth led him to the door.“I will be ready in the morning, Sir.”

  Damon opened the door and edged out, not wanting anyone to see him.“Rest well, Elizabeth.”

  From the upper window, they surreptitiously watched Wickham try to blend in with the villagers moving about the area. He dressed in plain clothing, but he did not assume another’s identity, and Elizabeth easily recognized his awkward movements as he pretended to be a farmer herding sheep through a series of pens.

  “Peter knows what to do.”The colonel stood behind her.

  “He is brave to face this. Mr. Darcy needs to reward him accordingly.”

  The colonel walked away. “I am sure my cousin will be generous.” He picked up his gloves. Today he dressed, as did the local gentry, in a loose overcoat and a plain waistcoat. They wanted as little attention as possible.

  “The stable hand has brought out Trident.” Damon returned to the window just in time to see Peter stride from the inn. He wore the colonel’s uniform, belted and tucked in to give the appearance of fitting, along with a hat pulled down over his forehead and a scarf covering the lower part of his face. He used a mounting block to settle himself into the saddle. Although no horseman, Peter knew horses well enough to create an illusion, and he kicked Trident’s flanks to edge the horse out onto the road. Recognizing a friend—one who regularly offered him a treat—Trident

  “I hope Peter is able to walk tonight,” Elizabeth mused.

  “It is for a good cause.” Damon watched more intently.“Come on, Wickham,” he thought aloud,“take the bait.”

  They waited for several long moments, and then Wickham moved to a waiting gig. The colonel heard Elizabeth let out her breath.“We are on, Elizabeth.” He moved swiftly towards the door. “We have very little time.”

  Nearly at a run, they cut across several fields to make their trek shorter. The innkeeper pointed out the way and within less than ten minutes,Wickford Manor loomed ahead.

  “You are very adept at moving through the countryside,” the colonel murmured close to Elizabeth’s ear as she knelt beside him, observing the house for occupants.

  She smiled brightly. “I am often criticized for being a good walker.”

  “Not today, my dear.” Damon touched her hand and pointed to the kitchen door he had used the previous night.

  Elizabeth nodded in recognition; he expected her to follow him. Less cautious today than during the night, the colonel opened the door, and both of them moved through the portal. He motioned for her to wait while he scouted the area, taking the servant stairs once again and moving quickly through the house.

  However, Elizabeth chose not to wait; impatient to see Darcy, she discovered the door by the hearth. The crucifix affixed to the handle—which she intuited that Wickham had hung there for his own nefarious purposes—told her that she found what she sought. She tried the handle but, as expected, it did not move; Elizabeth though, was not the type to allow that to stop her. She began searching for the key. CouldWickham have it on him? Not likely. It was not in his character.Wickham loved the melodramatic—the manipulation, the puzzle. He would hide the key in an obvious place to see if anyone were smart enough to outwit him. Realizing the truth of the matter, Elizabeth began to frantically turn over cups and bowls, assuming Wickham

  Finding nothing above, the colonel returned to the kitchen. “Do you see anything?” he whispered, but she shook her head as she continued to search everything in sight.

  Damon moved to the door and tried physically to force the lock. “We need to do something now,” he insisted, but Elizabeth ignored his urgency and continued her search.

  “It has to be here.” Elizabeth turned over the kettle—and then she saw it, lodged between the logs ready for a fire.“I have it!” She was all excitement as she scrambled to recover it.

  Coming to the door, she handed the key ring to Damon, who quickly opened the cellar. And then Elizabeth saw him, crumpled and broken looking. “Fitzwilliam!” she exhaled his name as she rushed forward, nearly bounding down the steps. Reaching him quickly, she cradled his head in her hands, covering his face with a battery of feather-light kisses.“Oh, God, Fitzwilliam, speak to me,” she pleaded.

  His mouth parched from a day and a half of no nourishment, he managed,“Are you real? I dreamed of you.”

  “Very real, my love.” She kissed him again.“Let us help you out of here.”

  The colonel had already begun to work at the locks of the shackles. Not expecting anyone to stage a rescue, Wickham had foolishly left all the keys on the same ring, and so the colonel released the first lock and gingerly lowered Darcy’s arm to his side. “Easy, Darcy,” he whispered before moving on to the other lock.

  Darcy tried to turn his head towards his liberator. “Damon?” he mumbled softly as he slumped into Elizabeth’s arms.

  “In the flesh, Cousin.” He released the other binding before helping Darcy to his feet.“Hopefully, your legs work, because I do not choose to carry you.” But the colonel bolstered his cousin’s weight and started Darcy’s unsure footsteps to the door. Elizabeth led the way, but as she reached the top stair, she halted suddenly in place, refusing to move from the portal.

  Pushing her aside, Damon leaned Darcy against the frame as

  Elizabeth did not answer, but Damon knew she had heard by the slight nod of her head
.

  “You will take my lord’s friend nowhere,” the older woman hissed. She was beautifully handsome—buxom, with raven black hair and pale violet eyes; yet Damon knew she would ravish him without a thought.

  “Unfortunately, we differ on that.” He noted how the girl he now recognized to be Lydia Bennet edged to the side.

  Then before he could stop her, Elizabeth faced her sister. “Lydia, listen to me; you cannot do this.”When the apparition who once was her sister made no response, Elizabeth tried again.“I will not let you hurt Fitzwilliam or the colonel, Lydia. I love you, Lyddie, but I will not allow you to destroy others.”

  Lydia, a bit taller than her older sibling, turned her head slowly, as if observing a fly on the wall. “Then I will destroy you, Elizabeth.” Not only were the words bone-chilling, but the tone told Elizabeth that nothing of her sister remained.

  Darcy gave his senses a shake, knowing he must intervene. He could not let Elizabeth fight her sister. In pain, he lifted his arms and turned once in place.“Heads down!” he ordered his rescuers as the weak flow of energy temporarily blinded the two vampires. Intuitively, the colonel ducked his head and tackled Elizabeth around the waist, dragging her away from their assailants; then he, too, spun a half turn, bringing the sword high as he did so.

  Still weak from his confinement, Darcy’s arms soon lowered, and the energy waned, but a different type of energy—one of pure evil—replaced it. Instantly, the women attacked, first knocking the enfeebled Darcy to the floor and then turning their full vengeance on the man.