Vampire Darcy's Desire (32 page)

“Never,” she said as she kissed his lips, eager to be a part of him.

Darcy lost track of how long he held her to him.The damp towel slid away from her back, and he knew nothing but the feel of Elizabeth’s skin on his fingertips. He caressed the smoothness of her spine, leaving a trail of fire along the curve of her back. “
Fitzwilliam,
” she whispered as she showered feathery kisses along his chin line.

Darcy’s hands searched her body, needing desperately to possess her in every way. “You are exquisite,” he murmured as her body arched into his hand. The back of his hand brushed against her breast, and her nipple hardened instantly. “I want to make you mine,” he groaned.

“I want to be yours, Fitzwilliam,” she breathed.

Elizabeth’s surrender was a red flag. Darcy loosened his embrace, but he did not withdraw.“How—how could I?” he stammered. “How could I take the chance of turning my darling …my darling Elizabeth into the kind of beast we met today?” He lightly stroked her chin as he spoke, captivated by her nearness and appalled at what he desired.

“There is no way…no way our passion could produce evil,” she declared.

“My loveliest Elizabeth,” Darcy whispered. He traced her lips, wishing to return to them and to drink his fill.“What we possess
is
pure, so pure I cannot destroy it to satisfy my hunger.”

Darcy read the disappointment written on her face. He wondered for a moment if Elizabeth might actually love him. They never spoke of love—at least, not between them. Their story to everyone else was one of undying love for each other, but he and Elizabeth had never said such words. Did he love Elizabeth? Since he had met her, Darcy could not breathe unless she was close.
Without her, his life would be a shell—a pretense of living. She was
his Elizabeth
. Even though it was selfish of him,—for she deserved better—Darcy had never been happier since the day Elizabeth had appeared before him at the Meryton assembly. Aloud, he said,“It is time to dress for dinner, Elizabeth.”

“Of course.” Elizabeth blushed, pulling the towel closer to cover her nakedness. She tried to scramble to her feet, but Darcy caught her to him again.

“You know that your wishes are my own.” He kissed the top of her head, while playing with one of the rapidly drying ringlets of her hair.

Elizabeth sighed, as if accepting her fate. “We tarried too long.” Her voice held sadness, and Darcy felt his heart lurch with self-contempt.

Elizabeth moved away quickly.“I will need someone to lace my dress; possibly Georgiana would favor me.” She did not look back at him; he was too tempting. Instead, she slipped behind another screen to don her undergarments.

“I will send Georgiana in.” Darcy’s eyes followed his wife’s retreat. It hurt to think he embarrassed her with his actions. He needed to get his emotions under control; yet unfortunately, where Elizabeth was concerned, he showed little restraint.

 

As she stepped behind the screen, Elizabeth’s distress was acute. Her hands shook and her knees nearly buckled. When she was near Darcy, she surrendered to her basic need for him. His touch—his well-being—only those things possessed her.
Is this love?

She was married to one of the wealthiest men in England. She had exceeded everyone’s highest expectations, but she wanted more. Elizabeth wanted Darcy’s heart.
I love him.
Elizabeth wanted Darcy to love her as much as she surely loved him.

“Elizabeth,” Georgiana’s soft voice came from the other side of the screen.“Fitzwilliam sent me to help.”

Elizabeth took a deep breath and reached for her chemise. “I will be out in a moment, Georgiana.”

Wickham crawled through the window on Edward Street. He could not stay there for long, but it would be a day or two before Darcy would come; and Wickham knew, at last, Darcy would come. The man would no longer accept Wickham’s intrusions without a response. Since Darcy had connected with Elizabeth Bennet, the man was uncannily lucky.That day, Darcy and his new wife had worked in tandem to defeat poor Amelia and seriously weaken him.

Elizabeth Darcy’s mumblings had seemed to be nonsense until her last pronouncement had sent him flying through the air like a kite caught by a swift breeze.
How in the name of all that is evil did she know what to say?
Even he had not known a reversal would have such a profound effect! Wickham laughed bitterly at the irony.
Are the fortunes of Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy intermingled with my own, our destinies intertwined?
He snorted at the distasteful thought.

Wickham settled himself in the room in which he had previously slept.The bullet Darcy had fired had lodged in his shoulder, but the rejuvenating powder of his father’s ashes and the earth from his homeland would heal that wound quickly. Fortunately, Elizabeth Darcy’s incantation had sent him sliding down the wall before Darcy fired. If his enemy had taken the time to aim at his heart, he might have suffered a different outcome.

Lying back on the bed,Wickham contemplated his next move. He had to find a way to stop Elizabeth Darcy’s influence over her husband.What could he do to make her turn against the man she had married? What could he do to force Elizabeth Darcy to either turn from the man or, at a minimum, refuse to help him any longer? Wickham’s success depended on his separating the Darcys. Together, they were too powerful.

As he closed his eyes and welcomed a restorative sleep, his mind filled with images of the past few weeks. Suddenly, an idea surfaced—one so brilliant that he congratulated himself on it. He was still an officer in the militia—a very agreeable young officer, by all
accounts, and Elizabeth Darcy still had sisters at Longbourn whom she loved.Wickham doubted that Mrs. Darcy had shared what she knew of him with any of her family; to do so would give away Darcy’s secret.Wickham had watched the manor house from a safe distance and had seen Mr. Bennet enter to look for his daughter.As Wickham had, Darcy could have disappeared if he wanted to, but the damnable man was too honorable for that. Perhaps Darcy did
not
love Elizabeth Bennet, but married her only because his presence in the same room with her threatened her good reputation.

Such thoughts allowed Wickham to relax. It would be easier to drive them apart if Darcy had married Elizabeth Bennet out of duty, rather than out of love. Their union simply needed a reason for a withdrawal.Taking one of Mrs. Darcy’s sisters as a replacement for Amelia Younge could be the perfect revenge on Elizabeth Darcy for her interference with his mission; plus, it was an inventive way to deny Fitzwilliam Darcy the one thing he most needed: his wife.Wickham had made his decision—he would travel to Meryton on the morrow.

Elizabeth and Georgiana joined Darcy in the sitting room; Darcy ordered fresh tea, and then they were alone.They sat in silence for several uncomfortable minutes before Darcy found his voice. “We need to discuss what happened today.”

“I do not think I can,” Georgiana protested.

Elizabeth moved to the mahogany desk. “Of course, you can, Georgiana,” she asserted as she took the chair behind it. “There is but one way to end this madness, and that is to consult together. I am more determined than ever to finish what we began.” She took out several sheets of paper from the drawer and prepared her pen. “I propose we organize what we know about George Wickham—what works and what does not work against the wretched fiend.”

“Please start with your thoughts, Elizabeth.” Darcy stood to pace. He thought best on his feet.“How did the two of you come
to be in the alley with Wickham?”

Elizabeth looked imploringly at Georgiana, and Darcy’s sister reluctantly began her tale of injuring her foot and of Wickham’s abduction.“I am sorry I did not react when he first appeared; I am helpless.”Tears formed in the girl’s eyes.

“You are not helpless!” Elizabeth declared vehemently.“You are young.And you did what was necessary to survive.”

“Your courage, Elizabeth, gave me hope.”

Elizabeth shot a furtive glance at Darcy.“That was not courage, Georgiana.That was faith in your brother’s protection.”

“How did you know Fitzwilliam was there?You could
not
have seen him from where you stood.”

“I knew,” Elizabeth said softly. “I knew your brother would come for us, and I sensed his presence.We have a deep connection. I have no other way of explaining it.”

Darcy cleared his throat self-consciously. “In the alleyway… what was that you chanted?” he asked.

“Georgiana and I visited the same bookstore that I was at the other day. We found several books dealing with spiritualism and with Celtic tales. One mentioned saying the vampire’s name backwards. I was desperate for ways to stall until you arrived, so I tried it. When I reversed the name George Wickham, nothing happened. Finally, I remembered that name was not his real name.” Elizabeth recorded something on the paper as she spoke.

“What are you writing?” Georgiana asked curiously.

Elizabeth looked up from her task. “I want to write down everything that seems pertinent to Wickham.We can add information found in the books.That way, maybe we can solve the puzzle of how to defeat him.”

“Then add the iron cross,” Georgiana said, brightening.

“The iron
retards
Wickham’s efforts,” Elizabeth observed,“but it does not stop him or kill him.”

Georgiana thought aloud, “Was that why you begged me to also believe in Fitzwilliam and in you?”

“I suspect the power of the crucifix lies mostly in our belief—
first in God, and second, in the truth of the Baobhan Síth legend. The power comes more from our faith in the item protecting us than the item itself.”

Stunned by his wife’s analysis, Darcy paused in his pacing. “If what you say is true, then we must discover what Wickham believes in.Your theory makes sense; two hundred years ago, Christian ideas readily mixed with tales of the supernatural.Why did I not see that before? Elizabeth, you are brilliant.”

Elizabeth’s eyes softened. “I do believe we previously approached this the wrong way.” Elizabeth’s voice held her anticipation. “If we discover what protects Wickham, we can use it against him.”

“Was there anything else in the books we should note?” Darcy leaned over the desk, as caught up in the possibility as she.

“I do not know,” Elizabeth confessed. “I sent the majority of them to Pemberley.We will have more time to study them there.”

“Fewer prying eyes.” Darcy recognized the sensibility of her action. “Right now, we should spend our time making lists of what we know of the ballad—of the curse—of Wickham’s habits. Then we can compare them with the folklore. Perhaps a pattern will appear.”

“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth interrupted, “who was that woman today?” Although it pained her to recall her part in the woman’s demise, Elizabeth had to know why she had the sense that Darcy was acquainted with the woman.

He glanced quickly at his sister.“It was Mrs.Younge.”

“Mrs.Younge?” Georgiana was on her feet also. “Are you sure, Fitzwilliam?”

“Who is Mrs.Younge?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Yes, Georgiana, I am positive the woman I fought today was Mrs.Younge.”The girl gasped in disbelief and sank into the nearest chair. Darcy returned his attention to Elizabeth. “Mrs.Younge was once Georgiana’s governess. I believe it was through her that Wickham was able to exact his revenge on my sister.”

Georgiana’s head snapped up in attention.“You told her?”

“Elizabeth is my wife, Georgiana.” Darcy understood his sister’s embarrassment, but he had no time for such propriety. “If she knows of Wickham, how could I keep anything from her? I trust her with my secrets and with my life.”

“What do we know of Mrs.Younge since Wickham’s attack at Ramsgate?”

“She lets lodgings in a less-than-desirable area of London,” he impulsively blurted out, before adding quickly, “I had her investigated after Georgiana’s attack. I thought Wickham might follow the woman to London, so I hired some Bow Street runners to find her.Wickham never appeared, however.”