She set her towel down by the side of the water and then dipped a toe into the lake. It was very cold, but by and by, her foot became used to it and she began to find it refreshing. She put her foot further into the water, first her ankle and then her calf, and then she was seized with a sudden longing to be swimming. She unhooked her dress and pulled it over her head and was about to slip into the lake in her chemise when Mrs Cedarbrook’s words came back to her: tempt him. She hesitated for a moment, but there was no one about, nor was there likely to be so early in the morning, so she slipped out of her chemise as well and slid into the water.
She gasped as the cold liquid closed around her and struck out for the end of the lake. Gradually the movement began to warm her. She looked for Darcy and saw his head rising above the surface. She began to close the gap between them. As she drew closer she saw that his hair was wet, lying dark and sleek against his head, with rivulets of water running down his neck, over two small scars and onto his shoulders. She felt suddenly nervous, but it was too late to turn back. He had seen her. A look of surprise and delight crossed his face and then his eyes, at first joyful, darkened as his face flooded with desire. He closed the gap between them in a few strokes, his eyes roaming over her face and hair, and then down to her throat which rose, naked, above the water.
‘You are so beautiful,’ he murmured as he bent his head towards her. ‘You are intoxicating, ravishing, exquisite.’
She felt herself growing weak with need, drowning in the overwhelming force of his desire. Her skin yearned for him and her body leaned towards him. She felt as though they were not two separate beings but halves of the same whole, which had been long sundered and longed to be joined. He put his hands on her shoulders and her body grew heavy and languorous. He bent his head to kiss her and she felt his breath whisper over her neck like warm silk. She turned her head to expose her throat as her senses were consumed by him, mesmerised by his breathing and the hypnotic beating of his heart.
And then, like a sleepwalker awakened, she heard the wheels of a carriage as it pulled to a halt by the side of the lake. She heard the opening and closing of a carriage door and then a voice which was at once familiar and unfamiliar. Darcy lifted his head and Elizabeth, turning slowly, saw the figure of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Beside her, pale and bloodless, was her daughter, Anne.
Elizabeth thought she must be dreaming. The swim in the lake, Darcy’s touch, her heavy languor, together with the strange and unsettling appearance of Lady Catherine and her daughter, all had the quality of something unreal. Lady Catherine seemed to be insubstantial and ghostly in the strong sunlight.
But as Elizabeth’s senses began to return to normal, she realised that it was not a dream, that she was awake, and that everything was happening.
Darcy pulled her behind him and she was glad of his protection because there was something menacing about Lady Catherine. At Rosings she had been dictatorial, at Longbourn she had been ridiculous, but here she was frightening.
She was dressed all in black. Her long black cloak hung heavily around her and a black veil hung from her black bonnet, covering her face. She was leaning on a black parasol, which she used like a walking stick.
‘How did she find us?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘We made no secret of our journey or our destination,’ said Darcy. ‘If she was in Paris, she had only to ask my relatives where I was and they would tell her.’
Lady Catherine took a menacing step forward.
‘So, you have done it. Against all advice, you have married this—person. I never thought to see the day when you would do something so stupid, you of all people, Fitzwilliam,’ said Lady Catherine.
‘You knew I was going to marry her,’ said Darcy inimically.
‘I knew you intended to marry her, but I thought you would come to your senses in time. I told you that she would be rejected by the family, or worse—you have been to Paris, you know that I am right. But you went ahead and married her anyway.’
‘I have a right to my own life,’ he said.
‘You have no rights! Marriage is a family matter. It is for those who are older and wiser than you to make the decision. It is not for you to indulge a whim.’
‘It is too late to complain now,’ said Darcy in a warning voice. ‘We are married; it is done.’
‘Aye, you are married,’ said Lady Catherine malignantly. ‘You did it behind my back, when I was out of the country. I should not have left, and I would not have done so if I had thought you would go through with this scandalous act.’
‘You should not have come here. Darcy and I are happy,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You tried once before to separate us and you failed. You should know by now that it cannot be done. Who are you to decide what we can and cannot do? It is time for you to accept it and leave us alone.’
Lady Catherine turned malignant eyes on her and Elizabeth felt afraid.
‘Be silent!’ she hissed.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
‘You should have married Anne,’ said Lady Catherine, turning once more to Darcy. ‘Anne is your mate. She is the one you were meant to marry. She is from an old and honourable family. She is the one who will keep the blood lines pure.’
‘It is too late for that,’ said Darcy darkly. ‘What is done is done.’
‘No,’ said Lady Catherine. ‘It is not too late. For our kind it is never too late. I only hope you come to your senses sooner rather than later, but you will come to them in time, that is certain. You cannot doubt it.’
‘Then leave me alone and let me enjoy it whilst I can,’ said Darcy.
‘Enjoy it?’ asked Lady Catherine with a bitter laugh. ‘You will not enjoy it. Every moment will be a torment to you. You know you cannot marry a woman like this and be happy. Your pride should have prevented it, pride in who you are and what you are and a pride in your place in the world. And if your pride was sleeping then your conscience should have forbidden it.’
‘Enough!’ said Darcy. ‘You should go.’
‘The sight of you sickens me, so yes, I will go, but you have not seen the last of me,’ said Lady Catherine. ‘You will threaten us all if you pursue this course. It is up to you, up to all of us, to ensure the continuation of our kind, lest we become extinct. You have seen your fellows hunted down and slain, you know of what I speak.’
Elizabeth thought of the revolution and the rich and titled who had fallen prey to its merciless scythe.
‘That has nothing to do with me!’ said Darcy.
‘It has something to do with all of us,’ she said.
Then, giving him one last poisonous glance, she returned to her carriage, with Anne following her like a sorrowful ghost.
When she had gone, Elizabeth realised how cold she was. She had been stationary in the icy water for the length of Lady Catherine’s tirade, and she shivered.
‘You’re freezing,’ said Darcy, suddenly solicitous. ‘You need to get dressed.’
Elizabeth began to swim towards the edge of the lake. The water was very cold and her teeth were chattering as she reached the shore. She was about to climb out when she saw her maid, Annie, running towards her.
‘Ma’am, oh Ma’am, you’ve had a visitor,’ said Annie, beaming. ‘A very grand lady, a Lady Catherine de Something. I asked her to wait but she said she couldn’t.’
‘It is all right, Annie,’ said Elizabeth. ‘She found us.’
‘Us?’ asked Annie.
Elizabeth looked round and saw that Darcy had gone.
She had not seen him depart and she felt suddenly lost without him. She wondered why he had disappeared before realising that he had done it to spare her blushes and the blushes of her maid.
She let Annie help her out of the lake.
‘This water’s too cold to go swimming in,’ said Annie as she handed Elizabeth the towel. ‘You’ll catch your death.’
Elizabeth dried herself vigorously, her teeth chattering all the while, then she slipped
into her clothes, but she was still shivering when she returned to the taverna. As soon as she was back in her room, she stripped off her damp clothes and sat in front of the fire whilst Annie rubbed her hair with a towel.
‘It was nice of Lady Catherine to come and wish you well,’ said Annie. ‘Mr Darcy’s aunt she said she was. Just visiting the Alps. She must have been surprised to find you here, too.’
Elizabeth did not reply. She huddled over the fire and then she began to sneeze.
‘There you are, what did I say, you’ve caught your death,’ said Annie, looking at her with a worried expression.
‘It’s nothing,’ said Elizabeth, ‘but I would like a hot drink all the same.’
‘I’ll get you one right away.’
Annie left the room, and when the door opened again, Elizabeth turned towards it with thanks on her lips. But it was not Annie who stood in the doorway; it was Darcy.
‘I heard you sneezing,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have left you in the lake for so long.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I knew Lady Catherine didn’t approve of our marriage, but I never thought she would pursue us on our wedding tour. Why did she do it? And why did she say all those terrible things?’
‘Lady Catherine is old,’ he said by way of explanation.
‘Not so old that she doesn’t know how to behave, and not so old that age excuses her for behaving in such a manner,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Things are not so simple,’ he said.
‘They seem simple to me,’ she said.
He looked at her with a wistful smile.
‘You’re very young,’ he said.
‘I am only seven years younger than you.’
His eyes held hers for long moments, then he said, ‘You break my heart.’
He sounded so sad that Elizabeth felt a catch in her throat and she reached out her hand to him, but he had already turned away, and a moment later, he was out in the corridor, issuing instructions to his valet.
Elizabeth felt low in spirits. Lady Catherine’s tirade had unsettled her and Darcy’s strange demeanour had unsettled her even more, so that she longed for someone to talk to. A cheerful conversation about ordinary things was just what she needed to dispel her gloom. She thought at once of Mrs Cedarbrook, knowing that a few minutes talking about Mr Cedarbrook and his botany would soon put a smile on her face. She wrote a short note requesting Mrs Cedarbrook’s company, and when Annie returned with her drink, Elizabeth asked her to take it.
‘I’m sorry, Ma’am, but they’ve left,’ said Annie. ‘They were off an hour since. Mr Cedarbrook wanted to get on with his plant collecting.’
Elizabeth was disappointed but there was nothing to be done about it, so she finished her drink and then started a letter to Jane.
My dearest Jane,
I wish you were here. How I long to talk to you. So much has happened that I scarcely know where to begin. We left Paris a few days ago and we are now in the Alps. Things are changing so rapidly that my head is starting to spin. First Dover, then the sea crossing, then Paris, and now the mountains—my dearest Jane, I woke up this morning and wondered where I was. But then I saw Darcy from the window, swimming in the lake, and things began to change. I went to join him and for the first time, married life started to be what I thought it would be. We were close, body, mind, and spirit, and I longed for him as he longed for me. Everything else was forgotten, until the moment was broken by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Can you believe it? She followed us here.
Are you plagued by Bingley’s relatives? Do they pursue you?
I am beginning to think we will never be free of Darcy’s family. Perhaps Lady Catherine was right. Perhaps their attitude does matter to me after all.
But no! What am I saying? How can it matter when I have Darcy? For a few short minutes in the lake we were so close, and if it happened once it can happen again. To be sure, he has retreated again, withdrawing into a cold world and gone where I cannot follow, and yet it cannot be for long. He wants me, I know he does, it is only his family and his concerns, perhaps, for my feelings—or what he thinks my feelings must be when everything is so new to me—that keep him aloof.
Writing to you is doing me good. I was despondent at the start of the letter but now things are wearing a rosier aspect. We are going further into the mountains to visit Darcy’s uncle, and there, perhaps, we may grow close again. Darcy respects his uncle and wants to seek his advice, about what I am not quite sure. I only hope it sets his mind at rest and leaves him free to follow his heart which I know, Jane, leads to me.
I must go now, but I will write to you again when we reach the castle. For the moment, adieu.
She sanded the letter then put it away in her writing desk to be finished later.
Annie, in the meantime, had been packing her things.
‘Master’s orders are that we’ll be moving on as soon as we’re ready,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He wants us to reach the castle before dark.’
She dressed in warmer clothes than previously, for she was still cold. She chose a dress with long sleeves and she wore a long pelisse instead of her shorter coat. She dismissed a bonnet which perched on her head and instead chose one that covered her ears. She tied the ribbon under her chin and then she was ready.
Darcy was waiting for her downstairs. The coach was already at the door and she could tell that he was impatient to leave.
Their hosts wished them God speed and then they were off.
Elizabeth was glad to be leaving the inn behind. She could tell that Darcy was on edge and she only hoped that things would improve once they reached the castle.
Chapter 5
At the start of their journey Elizabeth was content to look out of the window, where the smiling landscape was bathed in the warm glow of early morning, but by the time midday approached, it was replaced by a wilder view. The mountainside was becoming more craggy and they passed a number of waterfalls which dazzled with their spectacle, their waters flowing down in torrents and throwing clouds of rainbow spume into the air. Alpine plants flourished, clinging to the rocks, and chasms yawned beside the road.
As Elizabeth watched the scenery, Darcy watched her. He had seen the impressive sights many times before, but to Elizabeth they were all fresh and new. As he watched her ever-changing expressions, it revitalised his enjoyment of the scene and reawakened his lost sense of wonder.
There were very few people on the road, but here and there they saw a man carrying a pannier of logs on his back or a woman leading a donkey or occasionally a small child with a basketful of berries.
‘The people hereabouts seem very religious,’ said Elizabeth, as a man moved to the side of the road to avoid the coach and crossed himself; a common custom, it seemed.
‘Things are very different here,’ Darcy agreed. ‘The people have their own traditions and their own way of doing things.’
Elizabeth, growing tired of mountains and glaciers and waterfalls, let her eyes linger on the women’s rustic garb, admiring the colourful skirts with white aprons and their curious cloth head coverings.
‘Will your uncle mind us calling on him without any warning, do you think?’ she asked, as they found themselves on a lonely stretch of road once more. ‘Or have you written to him and told him we are coming?’
‘No,’ said Darcy. ‘There is no post in these outlying parts and a messenger travelling alone would be subject to attack. But my uncle won’t mind. He is always pleased to see me and the castle is so large that he can always accommodate more guests.’
‘Even with our large retinue?’
‘The castle will swallow the retinue,’ he said. ‘It could swallow ten such retinues. It is very old and very rambling, and it is large enough to house an entire village if the need arises.’
‘And does it arise?’ asked Elizabeth curiously.
‘It certainly has in the past. When the village was attacked by bandits, t
hen everyone would crowd inside the castle, taking their livestock and possessions with them, and they would not come out until the danger had passed.’
‘What is he like, your uncle?’ she asked.
‘He is a learned man. Intelligent. Charming,’ Darcy said. ‘He is a great thinker and something of a philosopher. He has travelled widely and knows many things. He is amusing and lively on occasion, but more often he sits and listens, or draws out his companions with interesting questions and remarks. He has a fund of wisdom at his disposal but he never seeks to dictate. I think you will like him.’
But will he like me? Elizabeth wondered.
At home, such a thought would not have occurred to her but here it was different. She had no friends or family close by to fill her with confidence and no well-loved places to reassure her. To begin with, that had not mattered, but as she moved further and further away from her own world, she found that she was becoming less sure of herself, and she hoped that her welcome would be a warm one or, at least, not a cold one.
The road began to climb more steeply, and the coach slowed until it was almost at a halt. Elizabeth suggested they get out and walk in order to help the horses, but Darcy would not hear of it.
‘The horses are well conditioned. They have pulled heavier loads up steeper slopes than this,’ he said.
‘But there is no need for them to do so here. It will not hurt us to walk. Besides, I would like to take some exercise and feel the wind in my face,’ she protested.
‘At another time I would be happy to indulge you,’ he replied, placing a restraining hand on hers as she moved to open the door, ‘but we are not in England now.’
She was about to ask him what he meant when she glanced out of the window and saw that two red orbs, which she had taken for berries, suddenly blinked and moved, and she realised with a shock that they were eyes. She looked to right and left and saw that there were more eyes all round them.
‘Are there wolves here?’ she asked apprehensively.
Mr. Darcy, Vampyre Page 7