A Supernatural Pride & Prejudice Variation
Copyright © 2020 by Lari Ann O’Dell
Cover by Jane Dixon-Smith
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews – without permission in writing from the author.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
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To my family, for all their love and support.
In 1530, King Henry VIII was desperate to be free from the regulations of the Catholic Church so he that he could divorce Catherine of Aragon and marry Anne Boleyn. He searched far and wide for assistance. Three years later, he heard of a witch in the newly-established principality of Transylvania. Henry VIII brought this witch to his court, in secret. The last day of the year of our Lord 1532, Henry VIII undertook the Immortal Rite and became the first vampire in England.
Upon the discovery of such a heretical act, Henry VIII was formally expelled from the Catholic Church. Vampires did not become common in Catholic nations until several decades later.
Once free from the Catholic Church, Henry VIII established himself as the head of the newly-formed Church of England and he banished from the kingdom all evidence of the old religious order.
In January of 1533, under the supervision of the Transylvanian witch, Anne Boleyn suffered through the Immortal Rite and was Turned from human to vampire by Henry VIII.
Three days later, following Anne Boleyn’s Awakening, she and the king were married and participated in the Eternal Rite—a marriage ceremony for vampires—and were forever Bonded as Eternal Partners.
Henry VIII was more than gratified to have a chance to produce heirs with his beloved new wife. The partaking of blood to survive did not trouble him, nor did his lack of a reflection, nor his inability to touch a holy cross. The king declared that the fathers of the most prominent and wealthy families in his court should join him in becoming immortal.
There were, however, disadvantages to Henry VIII’s new existence: death by exposure to direct sunlight was chief among them. After consulting with the witch, a powerful spell was cast over all of England, forever changing the country. The skies became permanently overcast. The people, plants, and animals were imbued with a deep magic that allowed them to survive without direct sunlight. This trait was passed on to each new generation.
Henry VIII understood he was on the verge of creating an eternal legacy. In 1534, he and Parliament wrote and passed a series of laws that became known as the Dictates. From that day forward, only those who met the requirements of wealth and status set by the Crown would be granted permission to undergo the Immortal Rite. Those men the king had Sired began to Sire their own Firstborn Sons, and thus the next generation of vampires was born.
The Dictates outlined in detail how a Firstborn Son of England would behave. These rules outlawed killing humans for sport, banned the Siring of vampires who were not Firstborn Sons or their chosen partners, and demanded that Firstborn Sons would only feed from the poor.
In the years following the establishment of the Church of England and its Immortal and Eternal Rites and the Dictates, England and this new society of vampires began to prosper. Vampires were celebrated in English society, and it was considered a high honor to join their ranks.
The vampire society in England held strong until the year 1813, where our story begins.
Cold. Fitzwilliam Darcy felt as if his entire body had been submerged in icy water. But he knew better. He cursed his mother and father. The scent of the wet earth above him pervaded the air. He could no longer hear the thrumming of his heartbeat. Resigned, he reached up and burrowed his fingers into the dirt, clawing his way out of the unmarked grave beneath the ancient oak tree in the Pemberley gardens.
Upon emerging, Darcy searched the darkness, unsurprised when he did not see his mother or father. His father had never been attentive, and his mother likely found the idea of waiting for her newly transformed son to emerge from the grave too painful. Thoughts of his parents were quickly replaced by the urgent need for blood, and where he must go to get it. In an instant, he turned and made his way to one of Pemberley’s many tenant cottages
“Mr. Bennet, Netherfield Park is vacant once again,” Mrs. Bennet said, entering her husband’s study. Once in the room, she paced to and fro in a highly agitated manner.
Mr. Bennet looked up at his wife, an expression of mock severity upon his features. “How did it happen this time?”
“The usual,” Mrs. Bennet said succinctly. “Mrs. Long was just here. Poor Mr. Thomas was found with puncture wounds on the side of his neck you know, his head turned all askew until—”
“Naturally the doctor and coroner declared it a suicide,” Mr. Bennet surmised, halting his wife’s rambling.
Mrs. Bennet nodded.
“Mr. Thomas always was an unfortunate fellow. His soul has my prayers. Let us be glad he has no surviving family members who will be tossed out with nary a care once the house is let again. All we can do now is hope the rogue vampire who broke the Dictates is apprehended.”
Mrs. Bennet heartily agreed, and her husband sent her away after directing her to come to him with any further news.
Elizabeth Bennet tied her bonnet strings tightly beneath her chin. She was just about to slip out of the house and into the chilly morning air when her mother’s screeching pierced the silence.
“Elizabeth! Pray, where are you going?”
“Out,” Elizabeth declared with no small degree of irritation.
Mrs. Bennet came barreling down the hallway and seized her daughter’s wrist. “Oh, no, you are not. It is not safe.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Every time there is an incident, it is always the same routine. I cannot tolerate staying indoors for three days in succession. In any case, I am prepared.” She glanced down at the stake she had tucked into her half boot.
“You wretched girl! You have no sympathy for my poor nerves.”
“I have the greatest sympathy for them, Mama, but they will not stop me from living my life.” With that, she broke free of her mother’s grasp and hurried from the house.
It was unseasonably cold for mid-September in Hertfordshire. That, however, suited Elizabeth well. Fewer people would dare to leave their houses after what had happened to poor Mr. Thomas. It was always this way. Someone would be discovered with puncture wounds, the coroner would declare it a tragic accident or suicide, people would stay indoors; then in three or four days everything would be as it had always been.
Before he had lost his sanity, King George had signed a declaration that any incident such as Mr. Thomas’s be dealt with in this manner: grieve for the victim, stay indoors, emerge three days later, and continue with life as usual. She suspected it was much the same in other parts of the country. Elizabeth thought it was preposterous, but had grown used to it. This was the world she had been born into, and there was little use fretting about it overmuch.
Elizabeth often wondered what it would be like to live in a country where the sun shone for more than an hour or two each day. The heat would feel so pleasant upon her flesh, and the dreary English landscape would be much more tolerable. Still, England had been this way since the reign of Henry VIII and it was not likely to change.
But Elizabeth was not made for ill humor. Instead, she took pleasure in the freedom to run, unladylike, without being observed. She hitched up her skirts and sped along the path that would eventually take her past Netherfield Park.
She hoped the next tenant to inhabit that estate would be interesting—perhaps a family with daughters. Or—although it was taboo to hope for such things—a Firstborn Son. In Hertfordshire, there were few of these to speak of, as it was one of the poorer counties in England, and many of the families they dined with had only daughters. Her dear friend Charlotte’s father and Charlotte’s eldest brother Harrison were the only Firstborn Sons Elizabeth knew well. There were a few others she could name, but could not claim an acquaintance with.
The opportunity to meet new people was one of the few draws of London society for Elizabeth, but Mr. Bennet would not send any of his girls to London. Mrs. Bennet was horrified by that position, and insisted that if one of their girls did not marry a Firstborn Son, the family would be forever ruined. Naturally Mrs. Bennet would be set greatly at ease should a wealthy Firstborn Son take over Netherfield Park. Elizabeth wished it so merely to satisfy her own curiosity about them. For her family’s sake, she hoped a Firstborn Son might move into the neighborhood and fall in love with her sister Jane. Then all this business about the family’s tenuous position after the entail would be settled, and they could all go on with their lives.
***
The following day, Jane and Elizabeth were sitting in the parlor with their needlework. Lydia and Kitty gazed mournfully out the window, desperately wishing they could journey to the nearby village of Meryton. Mary was playing a dirge on the pianoforte, making it impossible for any of the Bennet sisters to forget why they were confined to the house.
Mrs. Bennet came in some time after three, frantically waving a piece of parchment. “Someone has rented Netherfield Park! Pray, my loves, permit me to give you the best of news.”
All five girls gave their full attention to their mother. By the look on Mrs. Bennet’s face, Elizabeth half expected her mother to say Prinny had abandoned Windsor Castle in favor of Netherfield Park.
“He is a Firstborn Son. His name is Mr. Bingley and he has five thousand a year!”
Mr. Bennet looked up from his newspaper. “I fail to see how this information can be of use to anyone in this house, my dear.”
Mrs. Bennet gave her husband an exasperated look. “Surely, Mr. Bennet, you must know that I am determined to see him married to one of our daughters. Our dear Jane would do very well for a Firstborn Son. She would be the most dazzling addition to any clan.”
Jane blushed at the overt compliment.
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “Jane would do very well, but any man with excellent taste may favor a wittier companion and choose my Lizzy as his Eternal Partner.”
“Papa, I assure you, I have no interest in marrying a Firstborn Son. I enjoy food far too much to consider it.”
“Well said, my dear. I always thank my lucky stars that our family was too poor to meet the standards of the Henry VIII’s Dictates.”
Mrs. Bennet glowered at Elizabeth and at her husband, then refocused her attention on her other daughters. “My dears, you must look your best at the dance at Lucas Lodge this Saturday. Sir William Lucas has just told me that Mr. Bingley will be in attendance, along with a family party.”
“Oh, Mama, we must have new things!” cried Lydia.
“Of course you must,” Mrs. Bennet agreed. “It is too late for new gowns, but new shoe roses and hair ribbons will do very nicely.” With that, she sent all five of her daughters off to Meryton in open defiance of tradition. After all, there was a wealthy Firstborn Son to impress.
Once she and her husband were alone, Mrs. Bennet said in an icy voice, “I would thank you very much if you did not share your distaste for Firstborn Sons with our daughters. May I remind you that if your father had been one, so would you, and we would not be doomed to lose our home.”
Mr. Bennet ignored his wife and returned to his study.
***
Elizabeth and Jane were nestled beneath the covers, whispering late into the night, as was their habit.
“What do you think Mr. Bingley will be like, Lizzy?” asked Jane.
“I expect he will be the sort of man who will very easily fall in love with you, dear Jane, if he has any sense at all,” Elizabeth said.
Jane blushed. “Perhaps he may fall in love with you, Lizzy, and then you will bite your tongue.”
“A Firstborn Son would have to be very nonsensical to fall in love with me. Mama says I am too obstinate and headstrong to be a proper sort of mate. No, I expect Mr. Bingley will be a charming and handsome young man, and you will smile at him and all will be settled,” Elizabeth said. “Mama has declared it, and so it shall be. We are very fortunate that Mama is not blessed with a Thrall. If Mama could bend people to her will using only her words, we would have all been married by now, and Mr. Collins would have forfeited the entail.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you must not joke about such things. A Thrall is a very dangerous power.”
“It is.” The humor left Elizabeth’s features. “I would rather end up an old maid than under a Thrall, which is another reason I would never accept the proposal of a Firstborn Son.”
***
Fitzwilliam Darcy leapt off his horse with inhuman grace and handed the reins to a stable boy.
Charles Bingley slid off his own horse. “Must you always dismount like that?”
“It is the last time I will be able to do so during this visit,” Darcy said. “I desire no unwanted attention. I trust the staff at Netherfield to be discreet as they are under your employ, but have you spoken to Caroline?”
“I have, but you know how she is. Caroline remains quite convinced you will make her an offer, and none of this secrecy will matter in the long run. I warned her if she does not take care she will have to return to London. You have my word, Darcy; no one will discover your secret because of me or any member of my household.”
Darcy shuddered at the idea of spending an eternity with Caroline Bingley.
“Thank you,” he said. “You are a true friend.”
Bingley smiled. “I do hope you will take this visit as an opportunity to have a bit of fun. No one here knows you and you are away from the expectations of your clan. Promise me you will try.”
Darcy frowned. “I am sure you will enjoy yourself enough for the both of us.”
Bingley shook his head. Darcy was hopeless.
The assembly hall was well lit and rather full. Almost everyone in the neighborhood had congregated at Lucas Lodge, eager to meet the wealthy Firstborn Son. It was common knowledge that none of the ladies in the neighborhood were particularly fond of Mr. Harrison Lucas, who was the only known Firstborn Son in the neighborhood. He was odious and quite plain. Naturally, there was little doubt that Mr. Lucas would one day find a willing partner, but it certainly would not be at this assembly.
Nearly all the single young ladies in the neighborhood now thought only of Mr. Bingley, and wondered if he had brought with him any other marriageable gentlemen. It was universally acknowledged, after all, that a single Firstborn Son in possession of a good fortune must be in want of an Eternal Partner.
Sir William Lucas had outdone himself on this occasion by mimicking a tradition he had observed in the ton. The refreshment table held all the usual beverages, but in addition a crystal bowl held a sparkling punch infused with the lifeblood of some of the servants at Lucas Lodge. It was a courtesy for Mr. Bingley, and any other young man who might accompany him who might need such sustenance.
Charlotte Lucas greeted the two eldest Bennets with a smile and drew them to the refreshment table.
Elizabeth spied the crystal punch bowl and asked, “Is that …”
Charlotte nodded. “That was my duty this morning,” she said, casting a dark look at the bowl. Her brother took a cup and brought it to his lips.
Elizabeth and Jane made a face. It was rare for Mr. Lucas to openly display his vampirism, but with most of the company’s attention focused elsewhere, the young man could be himself.
“Charlotte, you poor dear. You are a saint, and I daresay Mr. Bingley owes you a great debt for your service.”
All at once, a hush fell throughout the room. Elizabeth turned to see a party of finely dressed people. The rumors were false. Rather than six gentlemen and six ladies, the group of newcomers consisted of only five altogether: Mr. Bingley, his brother-in-law Mr. Hurst and his wife, another sister, and another young man.
Mr. Bingley was good looking and gentlemanlike; he had a pleasant countenance, and easy, unaffected manners. His sisters were rather stately and statuesque, and looked as though they would rather be any place else in the world than at a simple country dance. The other gentleman was unknown, save for the name. He was called Mr. Darcy, and though he drew attention from many of the young women with his handsome features and noble mien, it was soon decided he was unapproachable due to the scowl he wore, and his overall haughty demeanor. Rather than greeting the hosts with the rest of his party, Mr. Darcy abruptly turned and took up residence by the fireplace, the grim expression on his face making it clear that anyone who dared approach him would live to regret it. But his display of rudeness was quickly forgotten as Mr. Bingley made himself known to the families in attendance.
Mr. Bingley greeted Mr. Bennet like an old friend and declared he would be honored to make the acquaintance of his daughters. Mr. Bennet presented his daughters without ceremony, only saying afterwards that Elizabeth was perhaps the best.
Elizabeth flushed at this remark which, although intended to single her out in a positive manner, was offensive to her sisters.
Mr. Bingley seemed unaffected by the remark for as soon as Jane curtsied and smiled at him, he was overcome. He asked her to dance immediately and the offer was happily accepted.
The younger Bennet daughters dispersed as soon as Jane was escorted to the dance floor, and Elizabeth went to talk with Charlotte.
***
Gentlemen were scarce compared to ladies so Elizabeth was obliged to sit out for part of the dancing. Overall this was not much of a punishment. Elizabeth was quite content to observe as Jane danced with Mr. Bingley a second time. How unlike his friend he was!
After that dance ended, Elizabeth observed Bingley crossing the room. She had not noticed that Mr. Darcy had removed himself from the hearth and was now only a few feet away from her. She was in a position to overhear a conversation she ought not to have heard.
***
“Come, Darcy,” Mr. Bingley said, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner. You had much better dance.”
Darcy was unmoved by his friend’s perturbed speech. “I certainly shall not. You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. I have no desire to encourage Caroline’s wishes, and Mrs. Hurst is unavailable. It would be insupportable for me to dance with any other young lady here tonight.”
“I would not be so fastidious as you are for a kingdom!” Mr. Bingley cried. “I have never met with a more pleasant group of young ladies. The women of the ton care only about how they shall spend their Eternities. In this part of the country, the people savor every moment, for it is even more precious knowing that their time may never be infinite. You must dance.”
Bingley looked around the room, and his gaze landed on a young lady with dark hair and bright eyes. “There is one of Miss Bennet’s sisters, Miss Elizabeth. I daresay even you would find her very agreeable, and she is uncommonly pretty. Shall I make an introduction?”
Had Darcy’s heart been capable of beating, it certainly would have skipped a beat. He hesitated, then glanced over at Miss Elizabeth. Her gaze was lowered, but her lips were curved into a smile. Her bowed head gave him an excellent view of the ivory column of her slender neck, and Darcy was suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to go to her. His blood sang for this woman, though she was unknown to him.
He turned back to his friend, attempting to look displeased. “She is tolerable, I suppose, but not handsome enough to tempt me.” Wrong, wrong, wrong. It was almost painful to say the words that contradicted his primal urges to such a degree. But he was enough master of himself to control his actions, no matter what his blood may be compelling him to do. “Go back to your Miss Bennet and enjoy her smiles for you are wasting your time with me.”
To Darcy’s great relief, Bingley turned away to seek Miss Bennet again. Darcy knew without question that he needed to get out of Miss Elizabeth’s presence. He would ride his horse back to Netherfield. It did not matter to him that this would reflect poorly on his character. He cared not what the people in Hertfordshire thought of him. There was one thing of which he was certain: Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a danger to him, and if he dared to spend time with her, that could ruin everything.
***
Elizabeth was not the only person to overhear the slight against herself. Of course she bore it gracefully and laughed about it with Charlotte, vowing it would never matter what Mr. Darcy thought of her as she was quite determined to never concern herself with anything to do with him.
Mrs. Bennet, however, was not one to handle a slight with grace. She believed any slight against one of her daughters—even her least favorite—was a slight against herself. She flew around Lucas Lodge telling anyone who would listen that Mr. Darcy was the worst sort of man in the world. He was proud; above his company; and above being pleased. He was altogether unworthy of being compared to his friend. The evening ended with everyone in attendance sharing the opinion that Mr. Darcy was no longer worth noticing, and that Mr. Bingley was the most affable gentleman to enter the neighborhood in years. It did not bother anyone that he had to imbibe blood. All that mattered was his wealth and good nature; and many women had their eyes set on being his future mate.
Of course, it would all be in vain. The evening was quite pleasant to all the members of the Bennet family save for Mr. Bennet, who had walked home and retired early. When the Bennet family returned to Longbourn, they discovered him reading a book, despite the late hour.
Mrs. Bennet breezed into the sitting room. “Oh my dear Mr. Bennet, I do not understand why you left so early. We had a most delightful evening. It was a most excellent dance. Jane was so admired by the Netherfield party, nothing could be like it. Mr. Bingley danced with Jane twice, and I am certain he spent the rest of the evening in awe of her. How could he not?”
Mr. Bennet had hoped Mr. Bingley would not live up to expectations. He was disappointed to discover that his wife was even more enamored of Bingley than she had been the previous day. She began a minute-by-minute retelling of everything Mr. Bennet had missed, and was especially detailed when it came to the dances that Mr. Bingley danced.
Mr. Bennet sighed loudly. “If Mr. Bingley had any sympathy for me, he would have sprained his ankle after the first set. This is precisely why I left early. My dear Mrs. Bennet, I assure you that I do not need to know every detail of the dance, and I am sure you and our daughters had a splendid time. We can now consider the matter closed and continue our lives.”
Elizabeth and Jane shared a smile after Mr. Bennet’s tirade, and would themselves have spared him further conversation.
Mrs. Bennet, however, seemed oblivious to her husband’s plea for a reprieve. She did, however, change to another branch of the subject—Mr. Darcy’s shocking rudeness to her second daughter. “And then he said that she was not handsome enough to tempt him! Can you believe it? He is the worst sort of man and I told Lizzy that she should not concern herself with his opinion. He has neither fortune nor consequence. After enquiring, I learned he is a second son. Although he is from a fine family, Mr. Darcy will never inherit anything nor be able to afford a wife. So he is quite beneath our notice, which is why it did not disturb anyone when it became known that he left the assembly after slighting our Lizzy.”
“It was strange,” Jane said. “Mr. Bingley was quite concerned after Mr. Darcy departed. He spoke of it to me. Do you suppose his friend was unwell, and that is the explanation of his rudeness?”
“Do not seek to excuse him, dear sister,” Elizabeth said. “You are far too generous. I assure you that his slight does not concern me in the least. Had he agreed to dance with me, I would have spent half an hour dancing in complete silence, and what use is that?”
“Very well said, Lizzy. You hide your disappointment quite well.”
Elizabeth ignored her father’s praise, for it reminded her that her vanity had been affected by Mr. Darcy’s words. Still, she was determined to forget about that.
Darcy returned to Netherfield as the sun was rising. The Hunt was the only thing that could have distracted him from Elizabeth Bennet. He was determined to reach his rooms undisturbed. Unfortunately Caroline Bingley was already awake, sipping tea in the front-facing sitting room.
“Mr. Darcy, where have you been? The dance ended hours ago, even sooner for you. Pray tell me, was it all too much for you? I certainly have never had a worse evening in my entire life, but Charles insists it was the best, for he met an angel with whom he is destined to spend the rest of his days.”
Caroline stood and clasped his hand with hers. “If you tell my brother we must quit the neighborhood, he will listen to you. You know he will.”
Darcy did know it, but he had joined Bingley on this trip to escape his own family. He would not allow his reprieve to end so soon. He ripped his hand away from Caroline and nearly growled at her.
“You presume too much, Miss Bingley,” he said coldly. “I would remind you that there is no understanding between you and I, and there never will be. You cannot manipulate me as you do him. Good day.”
Caroline tried in vain to mask her pain.
Darcy ignored her struggle and went upstairs.
***
Bingley set down the flute of ruby liquid. “Caroline, I would very much like for you and Louisa to spend time with Miss Bennet. It would mean a great deal to me.”
“I would be happy to do so,” Caroline said. “She is a very sweet girl, do you not agree, Louisa?”
“Indeed. I suspect Miss Jane Bennet may be the most accomplished young lady in the neighborhood, although that is not saying much. She is a sweet girl and I would be glad to know her better. We will invite her to dine with us today”
Bingley’s face fell. “Darcy and I will be unable to join you,” he said. “We are meeting with my steward to go over the property.”
“Fear not, dear brother. I expect this invitation will be the first of many,” Louisa said, who was less inclined to interfere in her brother’s affairs. She did not necessarily approve his choice but, unlike her younger sister, she could recognize a losing battle.
***
Now that Elizabeth and Jane had the Longbourn sitting room to themselves, Jane could be more open in her praise of Mr. Bingley. “He is just what a young man ought to be,” she said. “He is sensible, good-humored, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!”
“And he is handsome and will live forever, so long as he is careful. His character is therefore complete. Mr. Bingley is very agreeable and charming. I give you leave to like him. You have liked many a stupider person.”
“I was very flattered by the special attention he paid me. I did not expect to spend so much of the evening in his company, but I can say wholeheartedly it was one of the best evenings of my life. I must remember not to raise my hopes too high though. There is no way to be certain that Mr. Bingley felt the same.”
“Is there not?” Elizabeth asked. “It was apparent to me and to anyone else who was paying proper attention that he was smitten with you. I would not be one bit surprised if he calls at Longbourn today so that he might spend more time in your company.”
Jane smiled. “I would like to see him again.”
“Of course you would. You will forgive me if I hope he does not bring his friend. I have never heard you speak ill of anyone, but I challenge you to name one positive quality possessed by Mr. Darcy.”
“Lizzy, I wish you would not be so hasty to judge people. He may very well be a pleasant man. He and Mr. Bingley have been friends for years.”
“I notice that you have yet to name a positive character trait,” Elizabeth said, eyes twinkling. “I will say he is truly an excellent dyspeptic wallflower.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you are too harsh. Mr. Darcy is … is …”
Elizabeth looked at Jane expectantly.
“He has a very nice speaking voice and a fine, tall figure,” Jane offered, cheeks going red.
“If that is all you can think of, the poor man is hopeless indeed,” Elizabeth said with a laugh. “And Bingley’s sisters are not much better. Mr. Bingley is a fine man, but the company he keeps is highly suspect—though I suppose he cannot help having ill-mannered relatives.”
“Their manners may not be as pleasing as their brother’s—not at first. But they are very agreeable women once you converse with them. Miss Bingley will no doubt be a charming neighbor.”
“Jane, you are predisposed to like them—as you should be if they may one day be your sisters. I, however, remain unconvinced. It will take a great deal for me to believe that the rest of the Netherfield party will make charming neighbors.”
At that moment, Mrs. Hill arrived. “Miss Bennet, a letter for you.” She handed Jane the parchment and curtsied.
A few minutes later, while Jane was still reading the letter, Mrs. Bennet and the younger Bennets returned from Meryton.
“Why, Jane, what have you there?” Mrs. Bennet asked, quite close to snatching the letter herself.
“It is from Netherfield. Caroline Bingley has invited me to dine there today.”
“Oh, my dear Jane! This is wonderful news! You must wear your best dress, and converse with Mr. Bingley as often as you can.”
“Neither Mr. Bingley nor Mr. Darcy will be in attendance. I will dine with Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley.”
Mrs. Bennet frowned. “How inconsiderate of Mr. Bingley to be away today; but you will make the best of it.”
A clap of thunder rumbled. Mrs. Bennet looked as though Christmas had arrived early. “You will wear your white gown and you will go on horseback!”
“Mama, I thought I might use the carriage.”
“Nonsense! We cannot spare it today. You will take Nelly and all will be perfect.”
“But Mama, it looks like rain!”
“Precisely,” Mrs. Bennet said, looking rather smug. “It will rain, and you will have to stay the night. Now go change, my dear, and then you can set off for Netherfield.”
***
The following morning, Mrs. Bennet was quite pleased with her strategy—her eldest daughter had been forced to stay the night at Netherfield.
“This was a lucky idea of mine!” she cried, as if she had been personally responsible for the rain.
Her husband scowled at her. “My dear, you must be descended from Henry VIII to have such control over the weather. Why, ever since his reign the sun rarely shines in England, which makes it so accessible for the vampires and their ilk.”
“Oh, nonsense. I am not a witch, nor would I ever claim to be, but I must say it was rather clever of me. I must endeavor to have more such ideas so the rest of our daughters may one day be equally situated.”
Of course, Mrs. Bennet had no notion of the full consequences of her decision to send her daughter to Netherfield in the rain—not until a servant from that estate arrived with a letter for Elizabeth.
Elizabeth read the brief missive aloud. “My dearest Lizzy, I find myself very unwell this morning which, I suppose, is due to my wet journey to Netherfield yesterday. My kind friends will not hear of me departing until I am better. The Bingleys have been very accommodating. Why, when Mr. Bingley returned from his business yesterday afternoon, he sent for Mr. Crew himself, who is his family’s physician. Do not be alarmed. Except for a sore throat and a headache, there is nothing much the matter with me.”
Elizabeth set down the letter. “Well, Mama, I hope you are satisfied.”
“Yes, do take pleasure, Mrs. Bennet, in the fact that if your daughter dies it will have been in pursuit of a husband,” Mr. Bennet said, a sardonic smile on his features.
Mrs. Bennet glared at her husband and daughter. “People do not die of trifling colds; and now Jane will spend at least another two days at Netherfield. It is a perfect plan.”
“I will go to her today,” Elizabeth said.
Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “You will not. What use can they have for you at Netherfield? You are not a trained apothecary.”
“I will go because my sister needs me,” Elizabeth said resolutely. “I will walk. I have no need for the carriage.”
“But it is three miles! You will be unfit to be seen,” Mrs. Bennet protested.
“As I am not going to Netherfield to pursue a husband, that does not much matter. I only wish to see Jane.”
Even Mrs. Bennet could recognize the determined expression on her daughter’s face. She fell silent for a moment, but at length said, “Oh, very well. And if the occasion arises, take care to occupy that horrid Mr. Darcy so that he will not distract his friend from Jane’s company.”
Elizabeth had no intention of following her mother’s directive, but she promised to do so in the interest of leaving for Netherfield as swiftly as possible. She kissed her father goodbye and promised to return by dinner.
***
Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley, and the ladies were sitting in the parlor when a servant entered. “A Miss Elizabeth Bennet has arrived.”
Darcy swallowed an unnecessary breath.
Elizabeth Bennet entered a moment later, her hem six inches deep in mud.
Darcy stood immediately.
Elizabeth gave him an odd look, as if his gesture of civility was unexpected.
“Miss Elizabeth, how good of you to come. Poor Miss Bennet needs companionship,” Bingley said. “I would do it myself if it were proper. I insist you stay here at Netherfield with us until Miss Bennet is well.”
Darcy winced at this invitation, and saw that Caroline looked as if she had swallowed a lemon. Bingley, however, wore a foolish smile.
Elizabeth thanked him for his generous offer but owned that her family could not spare her for longer than an afternoon.
“Really, Miss Elizabeth, I do insist. It would round out the dinner table as well. Please?”
“Oh, very well,” Elizabeth said, with a small smile. “Now where is my sister?”
Caroline offered to show Elizabeth to Jane’s room herself, after a meaningful glance from her brother. She did not look the least bit happy about the inconvenience.
Mrs. Hurst excused herself to go find her husband, leaving the two gentlemen alone.
Darcy turned to his friend. “Was that truly necessary?”
“Now, Darcy, I know you do not think Miss Elizabeth worthy of your notice, but she is Miss Bennet’s dearest sister.”
“This offer of hospitality might give Miss Bennet expectations,” Darcy counselled, frustrated with Bingley’s impulsivity.
“Why should it not? I have not told my sisters this, but you are my closest friend. From the moment I saw Miss Jane Bennet, I felt the Call of the Blood for her.”
“Bingley, you have fallen in love many times. Who is to say whether you mistook such infatuation for the Call?”
“Darcy, you know as well as I that it is impossible to mistake the Call. Jane Bennet is my match. I felt it in my blood. Do not tell Caroline. I will take my time. I do not wish to overwhelm Miss Bennet with an immediate proposal, but she is meant to be my Eternal Partner. Blood does not lie.”
It did not. Darcy knew that better than anyone. “Very well, Bingley; but as always, I advise caution. You barely know the young lady.”
“Your advice means the world to me, old friend. Thank you. Do try to give Miss Elizabeth a chance. She may surprise you.”
Darcy had little doubt of that. Something about Elizabeth was incredibly tantalizing and, although he would never admit it aloud, he was glad she was at Netherfield.
***
“I feel incredibly blessed. Everyone has been so kind and attentive,” Jane said, her voice weak from coughing.
Elizabeth placed a cool compress on her sister’s head. A fever had begun shortly after noon, exhausting Jane even further. “It certainly is a good sign, but I doubt Caroline and Mrs. Hurst would go through so much trouble if not for their brother’s encouragement.”
Jane smiled at the prospect, but said nothing else as she drifted off to sleep.
As Elizabeth tucked the blankets around her a little tighter, someone knocked on the door. She opened it to see Caroline.
“Miss Elizabeth, do come down to dinner. You must not stay in this room all evening.”
Elizabeth would have been quite content to avoid an evening in the company of Mr. Darcy and Caroline Bingley, but it would be rude to refuse. She looked back at her ailing sister, who was now asleep, and followed Caroline to the dining room.
“Tell us, Miss Elizabeth,” Mrs. Hurst said after the first course, “how fares our dear Jane?”
Elizabeth looked up from her plate. “She has taken quite a turn and now has a fever as well.”
“The poor dear. It is positively dreadful to have such a bad cold,” Caroline said. After this comment, no further thought was given to Jane’s condition by either of Mr. Bingley’s sisters. Elizabeth’s views on them were confirmed—they cared nothing for Jane and were only acting solicitous out of respect for their brother.
Mr. Bingley, however, asked Elizabeth to give Jane his best wishes several times throughout dinner.
Mr. Darcy—seated as far away from Elizabeth as the table would allow, for which Elizabeth was extremely grateful—said nothing at all for the entire course of the meal. He kept his eyes on his plate. When her attention was on the others, Elizabeth had the oddest feeling he was watching her. Of course, when she turned in his direction, she found his gaze fixed elsewhere and reminded herself that the pompous Mr. Darcy did not think her worthy of his notice.
After dinner the group retired to the parlor for cards. Elizabeth abstained from the game in favor of a book, and Darcy said he had not the patience for games tonight. He took a chair by the fire, directly across from Elizabeth, and poured himself a glass of port.
Mr. Hurst, who was already well in his cups, cast Elizabeth an astonished look from the card table. “Do you prefer reading to cards? That is rather singular.”
“Miss Elizabeth despises cards,” Caroline said. “She takes pleasure in reading and nothing else.” Caroline glanced at Darcy to see if he was listening.
Elizabeth smiled. “I deserve neither such praise nor such censure. I am not a great reader, and I take pleasure in many things.”
Caroline made a face before turning to Darcy. “Why do you not join us, Mr. Darcy? I cannot imagine the silent company of our great reader would be preferable to that of one of your oldest friends.”
“Caroline!” Bingley snapped, embarrassed by the rude remark.
Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, who was watching him raptly. She was clearly amused by the exchange.
“I am quite content where I am, madam. I did not sleep well last night, and that should prove an acceptable excuse for my lack of participation.”
Elizabeth laughed, and Darcy caught her sparkling gaze. She looked away rather quickly though, roses blooming on her cheeks. It was a delightful picture, and Darcy hated himself for noticing.
“You gentlemen are always out so late, Mr. Darcy. How odious it must be that nightly sojourns are necessary. Louisa, do you not ever tire of waiting for your husband each night?”
“I have grown quite accustomed to it, Caroline, as you well know. But this subject is inappropriate for the card table,” Mrs. Hurst said with an uncharacteristically stern expression.
Elizabeth marveled at the ice behind her words.
Darcy looked furious at Caroline’s observation.
Of course, it was nonsensical. Perhaps Darcy was jealous that he was not a Firstborn Son.
The group fell into silence and Elizabeth remained only a quarter hour longer before returning to Jane.
“Miss Jane Bennet may be charming, but her sister is certainly not. Did you see her when she arrived today? Her petticoat was six inches deep in mud!”
Mrs. Hurst was happy to take on a new subject. She laughed and added, “I fail to understand why she felt the need to come at all. Why on earth would a person walk three miles simply because their sister has a cold? Did you see her hair? So wild, so blowsy. I could barely keep my countenance.”
Bingley frowned. “Your picture may be exact, Louisa, but it quite escaped my notice. Miss Elizabeth’s actions display an affection for her sister which is very pleasing.”
The sisters ignored their brother and declared Elizabeth’s manners to be a mixture of pride and impertinence. She was quite wild, and had no style or beauty to speak of.
After the events of the day, Caroline believed she would find an ally in Darcy. “Surely, Mr. Darcy, you would not wish your sister to behave as Miss Elizabeth did this afternoon and evening?” But Caroline was destined to be disappointed.
Darcy met her eyes with a cold gaze and said, “I would want Georgiana to show the same devotion to me as Miss Elizabeth shows to Miss Bennet.”
Idly, Darcy wondered if Miss Elizabeth would ever be devoted to him.
“Well said, Darcy!” Bingley said.
Caroline was quite put out by her brother’s support of Elizabeth, and disturbed by Darcy’s tacit approval.
Mrs. Hurst said, “Jane Bennet is a dear girl. She cannot help her relations. Why, did you know that no one in her extended or immediate family has gone through the Immortal Rite? And she has an uncle who lives in Cheapside. The poor thing has no chance of ever being happily situated.”
“If Jane and Elizabeth had enough uncles to fill all of Cheapside, it would not make them a jot less agreeable,” Bingley declared. “As for lacking family that have gone through the Immortal Rite, they cannot be blamed for that. Before our father earned enough money to gain the privilege of being Turned, we did not have those connections either.”
Darcy knew the true state of Bingley’s budding affection for Miss Bennet. Even so, such a match would not be easily accepted by the ton. “I believe what your sisters are trying to say—however unkindly—is that Miss Bennet’s lack of connections reduces her chances of marrying well. It is the way of the world. It is why the Immortal Rite was established in the first place—to see that the highest echelon of society would live on.”
Bingley could not argue the point but felt betrayed by his friend’s words.
“That is precisely what I meant, Mr. Darcy,” Caroline said in a saccharine voice. “My brother fails to realize that Eternal Partnerships are not formed by love alone.”
Bingley made no reply, and instead excused himself from the room.
Darcy left a few moments later, leaving Caroline feeling quite triumphant in her success at disparaging the Bennets.
***
Elizabeth could not sleep. Jane was slumbering in the room next to hers, and the book Elizabeth had chosen was not diverting. She changed from her nightgown into a dress, and put on her pelisse. The Netherfield gardens were beautiful, and she had not seen them in many years. Perhaps some fresh air and a bit of exercise would help her sleep.
A full moon hung in the velvet sky. A slight breeze rustled the trees and the two fountains in the garden gurgled softly. Elizabeth walked beneath a rose-covered arbor and down an immaculate promenade. The gardeners at Netherfield were certainly talented.
She was startled by a noise behind her and turned to discover she was not alone. Mr. Darcy stood several feet away, fully dressed but rather disheveled. A trail of blood ran down his chin and dripped onto his starched cravat.
Elizabeth longed to escape. Civility did not allow that yet propriety demanded it. She could not be discovered alone, in the middle of the night, with Mr. Darcy. Even so, she stood rooted to the ground as he approached.
He wiped away the blood before speaking. “Miss Elizabeth, forgive me for startling you. I did not expect anyone to be in the garden at this hour.”
“Nor did I,” Elizabeth said, eyeing him suspiciously.
Darcy seemed to sense where she was looking. “I fell on my way back to the stables.”
“Perhaps you should not be riding in the middle of the night then, sir. If you will excuse me …” Elizabeth was intent on brushing past him and running back to her room before her reputation could be tarnished … but she stumbled on a stone.
Darcy grabbed her hands and caught her, helping her to right herself.
Elizabeth was startled, for neither of them wore gloves. His hands were like ice. It was an unseasonably warm night, so the weather did not account for it.
“Your hands are cold,” she said.
Darcy seemed to remember himself and quickly released her hands. “I apologize. Is your sister showing any signs of improvement?” he said, looking rather abashed.
“She is asleep; and we should be as well. Good night, Mr. Darcy.” With that, she hurried back into the house.
Darcy’s blood pounded in his veins, urging him to follow her. He had not been sure until he had taken her hands, but it was undeniable now—his blood cried out for her, and he longed for her in a visceral manner. Elizabeth Bennet was meant to be his Eternal Partner. Darcy was mortified. What chance did they have? She was undoubtedly beneath him. Pride, honor, and duty revolted against such a match.
He should not have come into Hertfordshire.
What on earth had Mr. Darcy been doing outdoors in the middle of the night? Elizabeth was disturbed to have found him there, and even more disturbed at the icy sensation of his fingers around hers. Ladies and gentlemen were not supposed to clasp hands—so she had been taught from infancy—and yet, doing so felt right. She could not explain it, but as soon as she had walked away from Mr. Darcy, something in her heart told her to run back to him, to hold on and never let go.
It was preposterous. She hated Mr. Darcy, and he did not think her worthy of his attention. There was certainly something odd about him, and while she was at Netherfield she intended to learn what it was. It would give her an occupation, if nothing else.
***
Jane’s violent coughing awakened Elizabeth the following morning. She ran to the pitcher to fetch a glass of water.
Jane gave her a grateful smile. “Lizzy, I am so glad you are here. I confess Caroline does not have the best bedside manner, but her generosity has more than made up for it.”
“I would not be anywhere else, Jane,” Elizabeth said.
“Please, tell me something exciting. It is rather dull being confined to a sick bed.”
Elizabeth told her sister of her midnight encounter in the garden, and of the peculiar exchange at dinner. “I am quite certain Mr. Darcy is hiding something and I intend to find it out.”
“To what end?”
“Merely for my own satisfaction, unless the secret he is hiding is dangerous. I know you are fond of Louisa and Caroline, but if I am forced to spend each evening with them hearing of nothing but the ton then I shall go mad. I need something else to occupy my time, and a mystery to solve is the perfect distraction.”
Jane smiled weakly. “You are too harsh on them, Lizzy. If you give them a chance, you may come to like them better.”
Elizabeth highly doubted that. Caroline and Louisa were quite transparent to a keen observer. Elizabeth had always possessed a talent for deciphering the true character of those she met. Except for Mr. Darcy. He was a puzzle to her. She was not quite sure what to make of him.
At dinner that evening, Elizabeth was intent on discovering as much as she could about the new arrivals to the neighborhood.
“Miss Bingley, what is it like to be the sister of a Firstborn Son?”
“It is nothing so special in London. Every lady I am acquainted with is related to someone who has endured the Immortal Rite,” Caroline said. “Of course it would be novel for you, Miss Elizabeth. Hereabouts, only that odious Sir William Lucas and his son have gone through the Rite.”
Elizabeth was annoyed at Caroline’s neat maneuver to avoid answering the question, but she was not deterred. She turned her attention to Mr. Bingley instead.
“Mr. Bingley, do you find that most in your circle obey the Dictates?”
“I only associate with honorable people, Miss Elizabeth. There certainly may be some amongst the ton who disregard the Dictates, but I do not have the misfortune of spending much time with them.”
“I am glad to hear it. Jane would be as well.”
Bingley smiled. “How is your sister faring?”
“She is doing a little better, I believe. We should not be trespassing on your hospitality for much longer.”
“It is no trouble at all,” Bingley said. “My time at Netherfield has been delightful thus far. I do believe I would like to host a ball once your sister is recovered.”
Elizabeth smiled. “An excellent idea. The last ball given at Netherfield occurred before I was out. The most recent tenant did not enjoy society and rarely socialized.”
“That is a shame. I believe there is nothing more enjoyable than a ball; and dancing is an excellent way to become acquainted with one’s neighbors.”
“You cannot be serious,” Caroline drawled.
“Miss Bingley, I must assume you do not care for dancing; nor does Mr. Darcy—neither of you danced at Lucas Lodge,” Elizabeth said to Caroline, then glanced at Darcy, her eyes glinting with a challenge.
“Any savage can dance,” Darcy said, speaking for the first time that evening.
“Yet it was Henry VIII who declared that dancing well was one of the indications of good breeding. Was he a savage?”
“Some would say any Firstborn Son is a savage,” Darcy said.
“Would you?” Elizabeth asked, anticipating a victory.
Darcy certainly could not say vampires were savages without giving offense to those at the dinner table.
“Some are; just as there are savages amongst mortal men.”
“I concede your point, sir,” Elizabeth said in a good-natured tone. She had quite enjoyed verbally sparring with Mr. Darcy—and that was most unexpected.
***
While Darcy feigned attention to the book in his hands, his gaze flitted to Elizabeth Bennet, who sat in the chair beside him, sipping tea. How fortunate was the china that touched her lips!
At length, Elizabeth turned to him, eyes gleaming. “Do you mean to intimidate me by staring, sir? If that is the case, I assure you it is pointless. My courage always rises with every attempt to intimidate me.”
Darcy smiled. “Forgive me, madam, I meant no offense.”
“Perhaps you were hoping to engage in another round of debate and earn a second victory? If that is the case, it is most ungenerous of you.”
“You may ask anything of me, Miss Elizabeth. I will not promise to answer, but you may ask all the same.”
“Tell me about your family then,” Elizabeth said without hesitation.
“I am a second son. My parents are deceased and my elder brother took pity on me when I told him I was ill suited for the army. I have a younger sister who is currently in Town. Is your curiosity about my family satisfied, or shall I draw my family tree?”
“That will do for the present, Mr. Darcy. As you already know my family, I will spare you the details. There is no need for further conversation. I must tend to my sister. Good night.”
Elizabeth inclined her head and thanked the Bingleys for the excellent meal. Then she was gone.
Darcy closed his book and excused himself not long afterwards. He could not tolerate the inquisitive gaze of Caroline Bingley nor listen to her criticize Elizabeth. Darcy cursed his personal weakness. He should steadfastly ignore Elizabeth, not engage in conversation with her; and he certainly should not tell her about his personal life, however false the narrative he had constructed. Elizabeth was too astute. If he continued to share details of his life with her, she would discover his secret.
***
Elizabeth continued to suspect Mr. Darcy of hiding something. For a man who was mysterious, he was a terrible liar. The story that he was a second son with no prospects had been widely dispersed in the neighborhood. Mrs. Bennet had been quite comforted by that knowledge, especially after he had slighted her daughter. But Elizabeth remained suspicious. How was it that a man could be so prideful and above his company if he was not of higher rank and distinction? It made no sense.
She knew she ought to stop thinking so much about Mr. Darcy. He was not worthy of her time, but she detested not knowing the truth. Once she discovered his secret, she could resume disliking him and avoiding his company.
The following evening at dinner, when Mr. Bingley repeated his habit of asking after Jane, Elizabeth assured him that her sister was steadily recovering. As Elizabeth reached for the tray of butter, she brushed fingertips with Mr. Darcy, who had the same purpose. He had studiously avoided looking at her all evening. His hands were still like ice, and there was no accounting for that—the company had been indoors all day.
Darcy looked at her and withdrew his hand.
Elizabeth buttered her bread.
After dinner, Elizabeth joined the others in a game of whist, while Mr. Darcy sat at the escritoire to finish a letter to his sister.
“Is Miss Darcy much grown since the spring? Will she be as tall as I am?” Caroline asked, as her sister dealt the cards.
Darcy did not look up from his letter, but answered, “I think she will be. She is Miss Elizabeth’s height now, or rather taller.”
“I long to see her. Pray, include that in your letter. I have never met with anyone who has delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age. She will make an excellent mate for a Firstborn Son.”
“Forgive me for saying so, madam, but my sister is too young to be thinking about such a step. She has the best years of her life ahead of her, and I believe is not so eager to go through the Rites.”
“I cannot imagine why,” Caroline said. “There could be nothing better than becoming an Eternal Partner. I have often thought Miss Darcy would do quite well for my brother.”
Elizabeth was astonished at the blatant remark against Jane.
Mr. Bingley cast a severe look at his sister. “Caroline, my dear, this subject has been exhausted.”
Desperately searching for a safer topic, he finally said, “I marvel at how accomplished most young ladies are. They can play, sing, paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. Why I have never heard of a young lady who is not accomplished. Pray tell me, Miss Elizabeth, how do you have the patience for it all?”
“My dear Charles, what do you mean all young ladies are accomplished?” Caroline cried, preventing Elizabeth’s answer. “A lady must do more than achieve your list of accomplishments.”
“The word is applied too liberally,” Darcy agreed. “I cannot name more than half a dozen in the whole of my acquaintance who are truly accomplished.”
“Then you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of what makes a lady accomplished. Enlighten me, sir, so that I may have something for which to strive.”
Caroline came to Darcy’s rescue and began listing the qualities that an accomplished young lady must have. Her facial expression was triumphant, for she believed neither Jane nor Elizabeth could fit such a definition and would therefore be unworthy of the two gentlemen in the room. She finished her speech with a haughty expression before resuming a sedate pose at the card table.
“And to all this she must add something more substantial,” Darcy said, directing his gaze to Elizabeth, “that being the improvement of her mind by extensive reading. Firstborn Sons of sense do not want silly wives for Eternal Partners.”
“I no longer am surprised you know only six accomplished ladies. It is indeed a marvel you know any at all.”
“Are you so severe upon your own sex?”
“No, indeed. I have simply never met with anyone who has mastered all feminine occupations. She would be a fearsome sight to behold. Perhaps Catherine of Aragon was such a one and that is why she was expelled from Henry’s court.”
Darcy seemed satisfied with that reply and fell back into silence.
***
Darcy and Bingley were passing the afternoon in the billiard room.
“It is most unfortunate I have had Jane Bennet under my roof for two days but have been unable to spend any time with her. The fates are cruel indeed.”
Darcy made no answer, and instead hit the cue and landed a ball in the corner pocket.
“And Caroline … I do not know what is the matter with her. My sister has never been overtly rude before coming into Hertfordshire, but she has been saying such preposterous things of late. I fail to comprehend how any person could speak ill of Miss Bennet or Miss Elizabeth.”
The idea that Bingley believed Caroline had never been overtly rude before was laughable. Darcy could see his friend would not leave the subject alone, so he said, “I am sure Miss Bennet would make a suitable bride for any man. Perhaps your sisters believe her to be indifferent to you and that is why they point out the deficits in her situation. Perhaps they are trying to ease what they suspect will be a future heartbreak.”
“And you?” Bingley said, “Do you believe Miss Bennet to be beneath me, or that she may be indifferent?”
“I cannot comment on the subject of indifference as I have not observed the two of you in company overmuch. But—forgive me for saying so—Miss Jane Bennet might not be the most suitable choice for you.”
Darcy had never seen his friend with an angry expression, at least not one directed at him. This was the first indication that Bingley’s feelings for Miss Bennet were stronger than his usual flights of fancy.
“I only mean that before your father died, he accumulated a large enough fortune to earn the privilege to go through the Immortal Rite. You are the first Bingley man to have gone through the Rite by your birthright. Although Miss Bennet is a gentleman’s daughter, she is not the daughter of a Firstborn Son, and therefore marrying her will tarnish your position in the ton, which will affect Caroline’s chances of making a good match. Miss Bennet might very well be able to comport herself properly in society, but her family certainly cannot. That is the unfortunate truth of your situation.”
“None of that matters,” Bingley said. “I felt the Call. I can feel her pain and exhaustion as if it were my own. If Miss Bennet begins to feel for me what I feel for her, I will declare myself, and I will not allow such insignificant details to interfere.”
“Bingley, you must consider all the possible ramifications before making a proposal. That is all I meant to say.”
Bingley shook his head and trembled with frustration. “I do not understand why you give a damn about all of this. You have spent the past five years hiding yourself away from society. If my father had not met with an unfortunate accident, I believe he would have been delighted by my choice. Tell me, Darcy, why are you so determined to follow the rules of people you dislike?”
It was a valid point, and certainly one Darcy had never considered.
“Forgive me, my friend. I did not mean to dishonor the lady in question. I am merely telling you what those in our social circles will believe. You may choose to disregard this advice when the time comes.”
“Oh, Darcy, you know I respect your opinions and advice. I am sorry for losing my temper.”
The two men shook hands and all was forgiven.
There was a knock on the door and Bingley called for the visitor to enter.
Darcy straightened when Elizabeth and Jane walked into the room.
“Pardon my intrusion, Mr. Bingley, but my sister has recovered slightly and is finding herself in need of fresh air. We wondered if you would care to join us? Mr. Darcy is welcome as well.”
“We would be delighted, wouldn’t we Darcy. Miss Bennet, it is so good to see you on your feet again.” Bingley crossed the room and escorted Jane out the door, leaving Elizabeth lingering in the doorway.
“Well, am I to have a partner in my chaperonage, or shall I leave you in peace?”
Darcy knew he should not give in to temptation but she called to him like a flame to a moth. He offered his arm and took pleasure in the sensation of her gloved hand resting there.
The two couples set off at a leisurely pace. Elizabeth deliberately moved a bit more slowly to give Jane and Bingley as much privacy as propriety would allow. For her sister’s benefit, Elizabeth would tolerate being alone with Mr. Darcy.
The silence, however, was stifling. Darcy seemed perfectly comfortable walking in silence, but Elizabeth was not.
“The gardens at Netherfield are quite lovely. Am I correct in assuming Miss Bingley is responsible for the updates in style?”
“I could not say. I pay little attention to what Miss Bingley does.”
“That must break her heart,” Elizabeth said. Then, hoping to unnerve him further, she added, “She seems to have aspirations where you are concerned. Although it is difficult to say if she wishes to be your wife or your sister-in-law.” Elizabeth knew it was improper to say these things, and that she would sink even lower in his estimation, but it delighted her to see a crack in Darcy’s austere façade.
“If she has them, I am unaware. I might add that they are doomed in any case.” It was as close to admitting his growing feelings for Elizabeth as he was willing to go. It felt important that she knew he did not care for Caroline Bingley.
Elizabeth smiled, gratified for some unknown reason.
“Do you miss Derbyshire? The rest of your party has praised that county, and yet I have heard nothing from you.”
“Sometimes I do miss it, but I have my reasons for staying away.” Darcy’s tone of voice declared the subject closed, and they fell into silence for nearly a quarter hour. It was not unpleasant, which left Elizabeth heartily surprised. It was nice to walk with a companion who did not feel the need to prattle on about useless nonsense.
Darcy seemed unconcerned that they had lost sight of Jane and Bingley. Perhaps he would not interfere should their relationship develop.
After some time the four reunited and made their way back to the house. Jane looked content, but Elizabeth knew the ramble had been exhausting. She brought her sister back to her room.
“Did you enjoy the outing?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, Lizzy, I may very well be in danger of falling in love with him.”
“That is quite understandable, dear sister, for I believe that, if asked, Mr. Bingley would say the same. Having to spend time alone with Mr. Darcy is a fair exchange for you and Mr. Bingley to have some privacy.”
“Lizzy, was he truly so awful?”
“No,” Elizabeth admitted, after a moment. “I find him quite difficult to comprehend. One moment he is giving offense, and another he is almost civil. His character is quite beyond my understanding.”
***
Elizabeth sat in the library writing a letter to her mother. Jane was nearly recovered and Elizabeth expected Jane would be well enough for them to depart the following day. Today was her fourth day at Netherfield, and after last night’s dinner Elizabeth had the feeling that Caroline was more than ready to be rid of them.
The library door opened and she turned to see Mr. Darcy entering. “I hope I am not disturbing you, Miss Elizabeth. I need to select a new book.”
“It is no trouble to me; this is not my library,” Elizabeth said, her voice lightened to remove any venom. The tip of her quill snapped and she reached for the knife to mend it. Her hand slipped and the edge of the knife caught the soft flesh of her thumb. It was a minor cut and did not trouble Elizabeth in the slightest.
For Darcy, however, it had quite a different effect. The scent of Elizabeth’s blood filled the room and called to him like a siren. If he had doubted the Call before, it was unmistakable now.
Elizabeth looked up at him. “What is the matter, sir?”
Darcy barely had the restraint to offer her his handkerchief before saying, “I must be going.” He managed to bow correctly before rushing out of the library.
Elizabeth wrapped the handkerchief around her finger. She had never seen Darcy in such discomfort. Perhaps the sight of blood disturbed him, which was an entertaining notion considering he had a brother and a good friend who were Firstborn Sons.
***
Darcy was mysteriously absent from dinner that evening, which did not trouble Elizabeth in the slightest. Miss Bingley appeared unusually pleased and was more polite than usual.
“Tell me, Miss Eliza, how is dear Jane?”
“Unless her condition changes, we shall be ready to depart in the morning. I must thank you all for your hospitality on behalf of my family.”
“It was our pleasure,” Mr. Bingley said. “I shall be quite sorry to see you go.”
Miss Bingley said with cold civility, “It was no trouble at all. Jane is a dear friend.”
Elizabeth took pleasure in Miss Bingley’s artifice. It was all too clear she was against the match, but Mr. Bingley seemed unaffected by her opinion. Elizabeth was confident that, if left to their own devices, Mr. Bingley and her sister would be happily settled in no time at all.
***
Even the thrill of the Hunt could not distract Darcy from the scent of Elizabeth Bennet’s blood. Avoiding her company had only increased his yearning. No matter how he tried to remind himself of the inferiority of her connections and how she would be a disappointment to his clan, he could not convince himself that he had mistaken the Call. It was a cruel twist of fate that he could never be with the lady who was destined for him.
The next morning Darcy’s valet was surprised at the sight of his bedraggled master. As a proper servant, he said nothing. He helped Darcy dress in silence, and only spoke when Darcy asked him if the rest of the household was awake.
“Everyone is down to breakfast, sir. The Bennet ladies are due to leave after the morning meal. Will you be joining them at the table?”
Darcy knew he should not go down to breakfast. He should not throw himself into Elizabeth’s company so soon after the incident in the library. However, as Elizabeth Bennet was far too clever to hold no suspicions after his peculiar behavior, his prolonged absence would only be conspicuous. Of course, had he known that Elizabeth had not given him much thought over the past morning and evening, he could have spared himself a great deal of torment.
Darcy arrived at the table to find a love-struck Bingley enraptured in conversation with Miss Jane Bennet. Caroline looked as though she would like to have her forcibly removed from the house. The Hursts ignored the rest of the table. Elizabeth was smiling brightly, and Darcy suddenly wished the expression on her lovely face could be for him, but he suspected it was due to her sister and Mr. Bingley.
Breakfast was uneventful, and at the close of the meal a footman entered announcing the carriage from Longbourn had arrived to collect the Bennet women. Jane and Elizabeth thanked the Bingleys profusely, and Mr. Bingley assured Jane she had a place at Netherfield whenever she fell ill.
Caroline scowled when she thought no one was looking but then proceeded to grasp Jane and Elizabeth’s hands and declare how wonderful it had been to have them at Netherfield and how she looked forward to seeing them again.
Bingley signalled for Darcy to join him in escorting the ladies to the carriage.
Darcy followed, and noticed with delight that Elizabeth was not wearing gloves. He watched as Bingley handed Jane into the carriage and kissed her hand.
“I wish you a good day, Miss Elizabeth,” said Darcy, offering his hand.
She clasped it. “And you as well, Mr. Darcy,” she replied with little warmth in her tone.
He almost refrained from bowing over her hand, but when it came to Elizabeth his restraint was weak.
Elizabeth gave him a peculiar look as he released her hand.
Bingley waved at the carriage until it was out of view. Turning to his friend, he said, “The house will not be the same without the Bennet ladies.”
Darcy privately agreed, although whether that was for better or worse, he could not say.
***
“What a pleasure it is to have one’s home to oneself again,” Caroline said after dinner that evening.
Bingley made no reply, clearly mourning the loss of Miss Bennet’s company. He drank the blood-infused wine and spoke only often enough to satisfy his sister’s need for conversation.
Caroline, altogether frustrated with her brother’s melancholy, said, “By the bye, Charles, you cannot be serious about holding a ball at Netherfield. I do believe there are some present who would prefer not to host a large event so soon after having company for nearly a week.”
“If you mean Darcy, he may go to bed rather than attend. If you are referring to yourself, I will give you the same advice. As soon as Nicholls has made enough white soup, I will send my cards round.”
“Really, Charles, there is no need to keep your word to the Bennets. They are not worthy of pleasing.” Caroline’s tone was haughty as she glanced at her sister, who affirmed the opinion.
“They most certainly are worthy of pleasing. I have never seen a lady more delightful or more beautiful than Miss Jane Bennet; and Miss Elizabeth was charming company. Sister, I do not understand why you would suggest I break my word.”
“Oh, Charles, you cannot be serious. Jane is a sweet girl, but her family is horrid, and her connections are non-existent. You cannot make her an offer of marriage. It would ruin our family’s reputation. Everyone else in this room can see it, but you seem blinded by a pretty face. I wish for Jane Bennet to be happily settled, but duty and honor demand she marry someone equal to her in station. Pray, Mr. Darcy, make my brother see reason.”
“I assure you, Miss Bingley,” Darcy said coldly, “I have already given your brother my advice on the matter.” It was painful enough to be reminded of what stood between Elizabeth and himself. To have Caroline berate Bingley and then look to him for support was well-nigh unbearable. “There is nothing more I can say at this juncture.”
Caroline was unsatisfied with this answer and excused herself immediately.
Mr. Hurst, who had fallen asleep on the settee, woke and said, “I agree, a damned tedious morning this has been,” and then dozed off again, his outburst ignored by the rest of the group.
Two days after the eldest Bennets returned home, Lydia came downstairs waving a letter in her hand. “Mama! I have the most wonderful news! I have just had a message from Maria Lucas saying new officers have arrived to join Colonel Forster’s regiment. They are to train here through the winter!”
“More officers? My dear, that is excellent news! Assemblies will be much better with more gentlemen. Why, when I was your age, I fell in love with a young man from Colonel Millar’s regiment. It was the most excellent winter of my youth.”
Lydia, Kitty, and Mrs. Bennet went on and on about the virtues of men in uniform, while the rest of the family did their best to ignore them. Lydia would have been disappointed by the poor reception of her news had it not been for the enthusiasm of her mother and Kitty. A red coat held no charm for Elizabeth. She had no interest in being a military wife and, due to the paltry sum that Mr. Bennet had settled upon each of his daughters, it was very unlikely a military man would offer for any of them. Jane, of course, had no interest in anyone but Mr. Bingley. Mary Bennet much preferred her books and the pianoforte to the company of men. As far as Lydia was concerned, her sisters’ lack of interest would only make it easier for her to catch the eye of a soldier, and to dance every dance with a partner in a red coat.
“Mama, may we all walk to Meryton? The milliner’s shop has new ribbons and I must have some to impress the officers.”
“Of course, my dear,” Mrs. Bennet said. All the other Bennet sisters, save Mary, agreed to accompany Lydia. Jane and Elizabeth went chiefly to keep their younger sisters in check. Lydia and Kitty seemed oblivious to the fact that their blatant flirtations often embarrassed the rest of the family. They cared little about anything except their own amusement.
Upon entering Meryton, Lydia and Kitty were thrilled to meet one of their acquaintances, Mr. Denny. Their attention was immediate drawn to a man accompanying him, whom they had never seen before.
“Miss Lydia,” Mr. Denny said, “it is very pleasant to see you and your sisters again. I just returned from London, and I have missed Meryton society terribly.”
“You are very welcome indeed, Mr. Denny. And who is your friend?”
The tall, handsome man in regimentals beside him smiled. The new arrival already had the attention of every young lady walking about the village, and even Elizabeth was not immune to noticing him.
“May I present my friend Mr. Wickham, a new recruit. He hails from Derbyshire and is uncommonly skilled with sabres and pistols. The French will tremble now he has joined the regiment.” Mr. Denny introduced each of the Bennet ladies in turn. Mr. Wickham had everything to recommend him to strangers—all the best parts of beauty: a fine countenance, a good figure, and a pleasing address. The group spent several minutes in pleasant conversation until the sound of approaching horses drew the attention of the ladies.
Bingley and Darcy were riding down the street, having spotted the eldest Bennet ladies.
“Miss Bennet, I hope you are still feeling well,” Bingley began.
“Oh, yes. Quite well. I believe it can be attributed to the most excellent care I received at Netherfield,” Jane replied with a dazzling smile.
A ridiculous grin crossed Bingley’s features in response.
Darcy greeted Elizabeth, although with less enthusiasm, and she acknowledged him in turn.
“Mr. Darcy, we have just met another young man from Derbyshire. Are you acquainted with Mr. Wickham?”
Darcy drew his eyes away from Elizabeth, and upon seeing Wickham a dark expression took hold of his visage.
Mr. Wickham smiled and touched the brim of his hat. “Hello, old friend.”
Darcy said nothing to Wickham in return, wished Elizabeth a good afternoon, and rode off.
Bingley, not having noticed the less-than-civil exchange, looked up only to see his friend disappearing around the bend. “Oh dear, I seem to have lost track of time.”
“Mr. Bingley, before you leave, I must insist that you invite the regiment to the ball at Netherfield,” remarked Lydia. “It would be a poor event without them.”
“Lydia!” Elizabeth chastised her sister in a firm whisper.
Bingley seemed not to take offense at the statement and assured the ladies the regiment would, of course, be included. He then bid them farewell and rode away in pursuit of his friend.
Mr. Wickham and Mr. Denny continued to entertain the ladies with pleasing conversation, but it could not command Elizabeth’s attention. She longed to know the history between Darcy and Wickham, but she could not ask such a personal question on a first meeting.
Several minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Phillips, who were seeking guests for a last-minute party to alleviate their boredom, invited their nieces and the officers in for a game of lottery tickets and a bit of supper. The Lucases, Mrs. Bennet, and Mrs. Long were already at the house, along with a few other officers that Mrs. Phillips had prevailed upon to attend.
In company, Mr. Wickham immediately stood out from the rest. Although the regiment was well liked for their gentlemanlike manners, Wickham’s presence was far above them. He was the man upon whom all female eyes were turned. Compared to Wickham, the other officers were stupid, disagreeable fellows.
At length, Wickham sat at a table with Elizabeth and Jane. Lydia glared at them from across the room. The party fell into pleasant conversation, ignoring the games offered for most of the time.
“I know little of this game, but I should seek to better myself given my situation in life.” After a pause, he asked about the Netherfield party and how long they had been in residence in Hertfordshire.
“About a month,” Jane said with a smile. “Our neighborhood has been quite pleased with their company.”
“And have people been pleased with Mr. Darcy as well?”
“Indeed not,” Elizabeth said. “He is widely disliked by the neighborhood for his pride and lack of manners.”
“My sister is too harsh,” Jane said.
Wickham smiled at Jane. “Miss Bennet, there is no need to be afraid. I know Darcy’s true nature and I will not fault anyone for being truthful about it.”
Jane fell silent, decidedly uncomfortable with the conversation.
Elizabeth had been unsuccessful in discovering Darcy’s secret during her stay at Netherfield, but maybe now was her chance. “You speak of knowing Mr. Darcy’s true nature. If it is not too much trouble, would you care to enlighten me?”
“It is no trouble at all. In fact, it is my duty. I have been connected with his family since my infancy. My father was old Mr. Darcy’s steward.”
Elizabeth was surprised by the revelation. “All that is known about Mr. Darcy is that he is a second son from a large estate in Derbyshire.”
Mr. Wickham seemed equally surprised by her statement, but the look faded quickly and was replaced with a smile.
“He is a second son. His brother is the heir to Pemberley and will have ten thousand per annum upon inheriting. The Darcys belong to the Greater Fitzwilliam Clan, and you can imagine that the Mr. Darcy you know is quite unhappy to be a second son when he could have been a member of what is the most respected clan in the North of England, perhaps in all the country.”
Elizabeth could easily believe it. Mr. Wickham was a compelling speaker and had an air about him that left everyone assured of his veracity. He placed his hand on hers before speaking again.
Jane observed the impropriety, but did not have the courage to call the man out.
“I am a Firstborn Son now; but as the son of a steward, going through the Immortal Rite was not in my future. You see, it is most unusual, but my late father asked the elder Mr. Darcy to petition the courts to put me through the Immortal Rite so I would have a better life. As you can imagine, this infuriated Darcy. He tolerated it well for a time, until I felt the Call of the Blood for his younger sister, Miss Georgiana Darcy. Mr. Darcy, the elder, was thrilled that his daughter was meant to be my Eternal Partner. Everything was set for the Rite; but then Darcy, overcome with jealousy, tried to put a stake through his father’s heart, and his mother’s as well. He could not bear being the only Darcy child left out of the Greater Fitzwilliam Clan. He then convinced his father to disinherit me, and I was Disinvited from Pemberley. I was forced to join the militia.”
Elizabeth was incensed on behalf of her new acquaintance. “He deserves to be publicly disgraced for such crimes.”
“I fear that day will never come,” Wickham said. “He is protected by the clan, and his brother and sister—who are the only other witnesses besides myself—would never speak out against him. I cannot blame them. It is a blessing Darcy is not a Firstborn Son. He would certainly be the type to break the Dictates. Forgive me for telling you such dreadful secrets, ladies, but I could not bear for that wretched man to fool everyone in the neighborhood.”
“Thank you for your confidence, Mr. Wickham. There is nothing to forgive. I would much rather know the truth.”
Mr. Wickham smiled. “I must go now, I fear.”
“Surely you are not going to leave Hertfordshire on Mr. Darcy’s behalf?”
“No. If he does not wish to see me, he must be the one to leave. But now, I need to speak with Colonel Forster about an urgent matter. I hope we meet again soon, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed and departed.
Elizabeth and Jane left the table and went to the small garden behind the Phillips’ house.
“Jane, can you believe Mr. Bingley would be friends with such a monster?”
“Lizzy,” Jane said, “are you saying you believe that story?”
“Of course I do. You know I have suspected Mr. Darcy of hiding something. I just never imagined it could be something so wretched. How could you not believe it?”
“It does not make sense. Mr. Bingley would never befriend such a man, and I cannot believe Mr. Darcy is so wicked he would try kill his own mother and father and ruin the life of a childhood friend. Something is not right.”
“You have too much faith in everyone, dear Jane,” Elizabeth said, her dark eyes slightly clouded. “Mr. Wickham gains nothing by lying; while if the truth was exposed, Mr. Darcy would lose a great deal.”
Jane noted a peculiar expression in her sister’s eyes. Suddenly, a disturbing thought occurred to her. She did not know enough about it to be sure. She would speak to Bingley.
After visiting her friend Mrs. Long, Mrs. Bennet returned with wonderful news. The Longs were planning a dinner party the following Sunday, and she said, “Jane dear, Mr. Bingley will be attending. Is that not excellent news?”
Jane agreed. It had been a week since they had seen Mr. Bingley in Meryton, for business had called him away to London for a few days.
“Of course, he will bring that horrible friend of his. Did I tell you I have heard the most horrendous rumors about him? He disinherited our poor Mr. Wickham!”
Jane cast a look at her sister, and Elizabeth shook her head. Elizabeth had not spoken a word of Mr. Darcy’s treachery to anyone but Jane.
“Who told you this?” Jane asked.
“Lady Lucas, of course, and then Mrs. Long and Mrs. Phillips confirmed it. How dare that pompous man attend a party when a man whose life he ruined will be there. Rest assured, my Lizzy, you are very fortunate he slighted you.”
Jane was concerned. “Mama, I beg of you to be civil to Mr. Darcy. He is Mr. Bingley’s friend, after all.”
“It is very good of you to defend Mr. Darcy on Mr. Bingley’s behalf, my dear, even though he does not deserve it. I will be only as civil as he is,” Mrs. Bennet said.
Jane was not satisfied with her mother’s answer, but she supposed it was the best she could expect.
Over the past week, Jane had grown more certain of her suspicions. Elizabeth reacted strangely whenever the situation with Wickham and Darcy was brought up, and had a glassy look in her eyes. Usually Elizabeth was wary of putting her trust in people, and it was unlike her to trust someone on word alone. Mr. Wickham gave Jane an odd feeling. She had never instantaneously disliked someone in her life, but she felt she could not trust Wickham. It was a novel experience. She would keep her suspicions secret until she could speak to Mr. Bingley about them. He would know what to do.
***
“How do I look, Kitty? I must look my best for the officers!”
“Not as good as I look, Lydia. You must wait your turn, for I am two years older.”
Lydia scoffed. “As if any of the officers would pay you any mind. You are a wretched dancer and you do not have my charm.”
In retaliation, Kitty snatched Lydia’s ribbon and ran out of the room.
Jane and Elizabeth were glad to be rid of them. Elizabeth put the final touches on her hair, and then looked in the mirror.
“I do wonder how poor Mr. Wickham manages to look so good without the use of a mirror. He cannot hire a valet because he was denied what he was owed. I wish Mr. Darcy would just stay at Netherfield tonight so everyone could enjoy themselves properly.”
“Lizzy, I hate to say so, but you sound just like Mama.”
“Your point is taken, Jane. I shall do my best to ignore Mr. Darcy and enjoy my time with others in attendance,” Elizabeth said. Ever since speaking with Mr. Wickham that night at her aunt’s house, Elizabeth’s dislike of Darcy had increased tenfold. Still, she was not a cruel person by nature and did not like making public scenes, so she would treat Mr. Darcy with cold civility.
Half an hour later, the Bennets piled into the carriage and set off to the dinner party.
Jane was delighted to see the Bingleys and Mr. Darcy had already arrived. Elizabeth went off in search of Charlotte, and Jane was pleased beyond measure when Mr. Bingley immediately approached her.
***
Mr. Wickham arrived some time later and made his way to Elizabeth, to the envy of almost every other lady in attendance.
Elizabeth smiled. “Mr. Wickham, it is a pleasure to see you.”
“I was hoping to have the honor of dancing the next set with you, Miss Elizabeth,” he said with an elegant bow.
“I would enjoy that, sir,” Elizabeth said. She took his proffered arm but failed to notice that he escorted her to the dance floor via a route that crossed right in front of Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Wickham was as charming as ever and said things during the dance that made her cheeks flush. “Are you always this flattering to young ladies, Mr. Wickham?”
“Only to those who truly deserve it,” Mr. Wickham assured her. Once the dance was over, he offered to fetch a glass of lemonade. He kissed her hand before leaving.
As soon as he was gone, Charlotte appeared at her side.
“Lizzy, did you know you are quickly becoming the envy of the evening?”
“What do you mean, Charlotte?”
In a low voice that only Elizabeth could hear, she said, “Not only do you have the attention of Mr. Wickham, but you also have Mr. Darcy’s attention—although I doubt any of the ladies are paying attention to the second gentleman, which is just as well. Mr. Darcy’s gaze has not left you since the moment you arrived.”
“Oh, Charlotte, that is one of the most outrageous claims you have ever made.”
“He likes you, Lizzy,” Charlotte insisted.
“He slighted me the first night we met and over the course of my stay at Netherfield, we never had a pleasant interaction. He likely only looks to find something to criticize, if he does indeed look.”
“Take care in showing your preference for Mr. Wickham. It would be unwise to discourage a man like Mr. Darcy, who is in a far better position.”
“I have no intentions toward either man, Charlotte. In any case, Mr. Darcy would never lower himself enough to make an offer to me.”
Mr. Wickham arrived with two glasses, having seen Charlotte join Elizabeth. He handed one to each of the ladies.
“Why, Miss Lucas, you are as lovely as ever tonight. It is a marvel that a small country neighborhood is inhabited by so many dazzling ladies.”
Charlotte, who had never been called lovely by any man—for in truth she was rather plain—was not fooled for a moment. She took the glass and thanked him for his kindness all the same. Then she excused herself. Something about Mr. Wickham made her uncomfortable.
***
Darcy stood in the corner watching Elizabeth and Wickham dance for the third time that evening. He wished to catch her alone to warn her against her new friend. Darcy knew; however, it was unlikely that she would believe his warning. It was altogether a dreadful evening. Every time Wickham leaned in and whispered something in Elizabeth’s ear or took her hand or made her laugh, Darcy was tempted to rip his throat out. Darcy had hoped his time away from Elizabeth would decrease his longing for her. Perhaps he had exaggerated her beauty and wit in that short time at Netherfield. But it was not so. He wanted her more than ever. But his obligations to his clan had not changed. And worse, she was in George Wickham’s grasp. Darcy had often wondered if Wickham had a Thrall. It certainly would explain why he could effortlessly charm anyone he met. Darcy’s blood boiled at the thought of Elizabeth being under Wickham’s Thrall. It put her in unimaginable danger, yet he had no right to protect her.
Darcy was tempted to leave so he would not be subjected to the sight of the lady he admired flirting with the man he despised, but that would leave Elizabeth unprotected, and that prospect was intolerable. So he tried to distract himself with other pursuits.
Bingley had been occupied with Jane Bennet for most of the evening, completely oblivious to Caroline’s attempts to draw his attention away. Darcy was beginning to think that if Bingley and Jane truly cared for each other, it would be useless and uncharitable to interfere.
At that moment, a loud comment was overheard.
“My dearest Jane will be quite settled within a month. I guarantee it. She knows how important it is to me to see my daughters happily settled. She is the most dutiful daughter in the world.”
Darcy had heard similar speeches from many matchmaking mamas over the years. Perhaps Jane Bennet was only acting as if she liked Bingley to draw him in and please her mother. It would not be the first time that a fortune hunter had tried to trap his friend. Of course, there was no way to be certain unless he observed Jane more closely, which he decided he must do in the future.
He could not observe her tonight for he could not tear his gaze away from Elizabeth and Wickham, until he noticed Bingley guiding Jane towards him.
“Darcy, Miss Bennet has brought up a concern to me, and I am not completely sure how to handle it. Your advice and assistance would be invaluable.”
Darcy was stunned and almost declined, but Jane looked at him and said, “Please, sir. It is about Mr. Wickham and my sister. It would be very troubling if proven to be true. I would be forever in your debt.”
“Very well, let us speak outdoors,” Darcy said, heading to the nearest balcony.
Bingley closed the balcony doors, despite that being decidedly improper.
“Now, what is your concern, Miss Bennet?”
Jane related the story that Mr. Wickham had told herself and Elizabeth a week before, and noticed Darcy looked paler than usual. His fists were clenched, and the lines of his face were drawn in anger.
“Lizzy believed him, but I did not. It was strange. He put his hand on hers while he told the story. My sister usually does not believe anything without proof, but she seemed quite certain that everything Mr. Wickham said was true.”
Jane looked at Darcy. “You do not need to tell me the truth of your history with that man, but I need to know about him. Are there any facts in his tale?”
“No. Forgive me, Miss Bennet but Mr. Bingley and I have been deceiving you, and with good reason. I am a Firstborn Son. The only truth behind that wretched story is that Wickham endured the Immortal Rite and tried to seduce my fifteen-year-old sister.”
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I am so sorry. It is truly shocking that Mr. Wickham would try and take vengeance upon you by concocting such a dreadful story. Elizabeth believes it though, and whenever the subject comes up, her eyes become glassy and she acts strange. I have never seen this before, but I have read about it. I am wondering if my sister might be under a Thrall. Is that a possibility?”
“If your sister is under a Thrall, I will break it. You have my word,” Darcy said. The depth of Wickham’s treachery was revolting. If Darcy had a stake at hand he would plunge it directly into Wickham’s unbeating heart and put an end to it all—but he had not come prepared for that.
“Miss Bennet, I must ask you to keep my secret. It must not be discovered in Hertfordshire.”
“You have my word; I will speak of this to no one. Please, help my sister.”
Darcy left, determined to find Elizabeth at once.
He found her standing to the side, as the ladies once again outnumbered the gentlemen at the gathering.
“Miss Elizabeth, might I have a word with you in private?” he asked in a low voice.
“You may not,” Elizabeth said, with a cold look. “I do not take kindly to men who ruin the lives of others for sport.”
The accusation in her voice wounded him deeply, but she could not be blamed. Her fine eyes were indeed glassy, and he could sense something was different about her. His suspicions confirmed, he apologized for disturbing her and went to find Wickham.
His quarry was outside, bidding adieu to a newly-out young lady. When Darcy discovered them, the young lady giggled, flushed, and ran away from the house.
“I see you have not changed, Wickham,” Darcy said.
“Why should I change? I am quite content with what I have become,” Wickham said, showing a glimpse of his fangs. “You should show who you really are. I hear you have been saying you are a second son. Now why on earth would the prideful Fitzwilliam Darcy want to pretend to be less than he is?”
Darcy scowled at him, wishing more than anything that he had a stake.
“No need to answer. I know why. You are a coward.”
“Do not presume to know anything about me, Wickham.” He seized him by the cravat. “You will lift the Thrall you placed on Elizabeth Bennet.”
“Why should you care about a country nobody? Although she is rather pretty. I would enjoy sinking my teeth into her neck.”
“If you do not lift it, you will find yourself facing the pointed end of a stake,” Darcy threatened. In his near-feral state, he allowed his fangs to show. Darcy hated that this man still had the power to make him lose control.
A smug look of recognition dawned on Wickham’s face.
“You love the little chit. Oh, this is too good! Do you think the esteemed Fitzwilliam Clan will accept someone without wealth or connections?”
Wickham was not bothered by the punch that Darcy threw at him. He simply wiped the blood off his face and said, “Very well, I will lift it. But only because lifting the Thrall will still not make her love you in return. She was quite set against you before I Enthralled her.” He waved his hand. “You know, Miss Elizabeth Bennet would make a fine Childe.”
“If you lay a finger on her, I will see that you are nothing but dust.”
“My, how the mighty have fallen. Goodbye, Darcy. I am feeling rather thirsty, and this neighborhood is filled with willing ladies.” Wickham sped off with preternatural speed.
Darcy was tempted to go after him and end it all, but that would be unwise. All that mattered was Elizabeth was free from the Thrall.
Jane Bennet could not be certain, but after speaking with Elizabeth about the previous night, she was hopeful Mr. Darcy had been able to break the Thrall. It was remarkable really, that Mr. Darcy was hiding such a secret. But what Jane found even more surprising was how eager Darcy had been to help once she told him she was concerned for her sister. There was little doubt in her mind that Darcy cared for Elizabeth. The more she contemplated the possible match, the happier she was. Perhaps, with time, everything would be settled in a happy manner.
“Oh, look, Mr. Bingley is coming up the road,” called Kitty.
Mrs. Bennet shrieked her approval and ran to Jane, pinching her cheeks to get some color in them.
“It is a very good sign that he is calling here. Why, you just spent an entire evening together, and even that was not enough for him. Everything is just as I wished.”
Mrs. Hill announced the gentlemen and a moment later, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy entered, the former with an elegant invitation in his hand. He crossed the room and delivered it to Jane. “I would like to personally invite you and all of your family to the Netherfield Ball. It will be held on the 26th of November, and my sister assures me it will be the finest affair Hertfordshire has ever seen.” Bingley clearly was embarrassed by the haughtiness of his sister’s declaration, but was quite pleased to be handing the invitation directly to Jane.
“We will all be honored to attend,” Jane said.
Mrs. Bennet offered refreshments, but the gentlemen declined, saying they had come in hopes the elder Miss Bennets would join them on a ramble. Mrs. Bennet was overjoyed by the proposition and rang for Hill to fetch her daughters’ spencers.
Elizabeth was surprised when Bingley offered his arm to her and Darcy elected to walk with Jane. Of course, Bingley was the more charming companion of the two, but Elizabeth wondered what Darcy’s motivation could be in seeking a private word with Jane.
Jane was equally surprised, but placed her hand on Darcy’s arm. It was several minutes before her companion spoke. “I fear your assumptions were correct. Mr. Wickham did put a Thrall upon your sister. But, be not alarmed, madam, for I convinced him to lift it, and I give you my word that I will do what I can to protect your sister from further harm at the hands of that despicable man.”
“You have my thanks, Mr. Darcy,” Jane said. “Can you truly protect her?”
“I believe I can,” Darcy said.
“Good,” Jane said. “You are a true gentleman.”
Darcy was surprised to hear such words from Jane Bennet. She was charming, to be sure, but it seemed to him she did not openly display her admiration. He thought of a rumor he had heard the previous night. Bingley would be devastated if Jane Bennet did not truly love him as he loved her. Yet Darcy could not speak with Jane about Bingley. Instead, he would have to observe them closely at the ball and determine how best to advise his friend. However, of one thing he was certain: Bingley was in love with Jane Bennet, and it most certainly was not fleeting. Bingley had been pining for Jane their entire week in London. A traitorous voice in the back of his mind reminded him that he too had been pining for Elizabeth Bennet. That longing was not going to go away either.
The four rejoined for a short stretch of the path and then divided again, only this time Jane and Bingley were partnered, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth as the chaperones once again.
Darcy glanced at his companion, wondering if should mention Wickham. Her words from the previous night haunted him. He had broken the Thrall, but did she still believe Wickham’s story? He had to know.
“Miss Elizabeth, you should know that Mr. Wickham is not a man to be trusted.”
Elizabeth gave him a sidelong glance, the corners of her mouth tipping upwards.
“That is an interesting statement coming from you, Mr. Darcy. I know what you did to him and what you tried to do to your own family, out of jealousy and vengeance. You can have nothing further to say to me.” Elizabeth frowned and walked away, leaving a devastated Darcy in her wake.
Jane and Bingley stopped when they noticed Elizabeth running into the house.
Jane turned to Darcy. “Oh dear, what happened?”
“I tried to warn her about Wickham and she did not believe me. If you will excuse me, I will return to Netherfield.”
Bingley escorted Jane back to the house.
In a low voice she asked, “Would Mr. Darcy object if I told Elizabeth the truth?”
“I do not believe he would want her to know his own secret—but perhaps a warning not to trust Wickham might be better received from you, given that the Thrall is now lifted. You should tell her she was Enthralled. She will believe you; and the knowledge of Wickham’s abilities will protect her from falling under his power again.” Bingley kissed Jane’s hand. “I should go speak with Darcy. I will see you again soon.”
***
Elizabeth was incensed. She could not believe Mr. Darcy had the gall to tell her Mr. Wickham was untrustworthy. Darcy was the one who had lied and kept secrets—dangerous secrets that had resulted in misery. She doubted that even Mr. Bingley knew the depth of Darcy’s treachery.
There was a light knock on the door and Elizabeth was tempted to yell at whoever was on the other side. The knocking was persistent, and when it failed, a soft voice said, “Lizzy, it is Jane. We need to talk.”
Elizabeth called for her to open the door and Jane came and sat on the bed beside her sister.
“Lizzy, there is something you need to know. Mr. Wickham placed a Thrall on you.”
“What? No. He would never do that; he is too gentlemanlike.”
“He did it at Aunt Phillips’ house when he told us about his history with Mr. Darcy,” Jane said. “You were under it for a week. I was not sure until I asked Mr. Bingley for assistance at the Long’s party. Bingley was unsure about Wickham, but Mr. Darcy confirmed it and made Mr. Wickham lift the Thrall.”
This was too much to believe. “How did Mr. Darcy do that?” Elizabeth asked, unable to keep suspicion from her tone.
“He did not say, but Lizzy, we have been deceived by Wickham, and that he is not above misusing his power suggests he may not be telling the truth about what happened between him and Mr. Darcy. I want you to take caution. Avoid Mr. Wickham, and do not let him touch you. It is fortunate you did not do anything horrible while Enthralled.”
“I will take caution,” Elizabeth promised. “Do you know the true history between Darcy and Wickham?”
Jane shook her head. It was not her place to say.
“Lizzy?”
“Yes?”
“I also believe you have misjudged Mr. Darcy. He is an honorable man. Perhaps you owe him a second chance.”
Darcy may not be a treacherous man who had stolen Mr. Wickham’s future, but Elizabeth had a feeling she still did not know the truth about him—and until she did, she could not trust Mr. Darcy. He was hiding something, and she was intent on discovering what it was.
***
Darcy poured himself a generous measure of port. He should not have been hurt by Elizabeth’s lack of faith in him, but it could not be helped. He was falling in love with her. The Call had been a warning. He had tried to resist, reciting every reason the match was unsuitable each night and each morning like a mantra, but it was all for nothing. Elizabeth Bennet was his match, and she despised him.
He only hoped that he could spare Bingley this agony.
Bingley entered a moment later, not even bothering with the courtesy of knocking.
“Darcy, I hope you will forgive me, but I advised Jane to tell Elizabeth about the Thrall. I asked her to keep your secret. She gave me her word and I trust her completely.”
Darcy did not know Jane well but he agreed with Bingley’s conclusion. He acknowledged Elizabeth might better heed a warning about Wickham if it came from Jane, and if she learned she had been Enthralled. He could only hope that would convince her Wickham was not to be trusted. If that was not enough, he would have to tell Elizabeth everything—a course of action he did not wish to take. He had never even told Bingley the entirety of his history with Wickham.
“It is safer that Elizabeth knows about the Thrall. She certainly would not have believed it if I had told her.”
“You would never purposely mislead anyone,” Bingley said. “Which is why I must ask—do you believe Jane Bennet and I have a future together?”
“Bingley, I know you believe Jane Bennet cares for you as much as you care for her—and perhaps she does—but I hope you will take caution. If you are too trusting and open, you may find yourself in an untenable situation, or worse—engaged to a lady who is only accepting you because of the wishes of her family.”
“Darcy, I appreciate the sentiment, but I assure you Jane is too generous to trifle with anyone in such a deceitful manner. She is the finest young lady of my acquaintance and, with good fortune, she will accept me when I propose after the Netherfield Ball.” Bingley drew out a ring box. “I bought it in London. Please, do not tell Caroline. I will tell her myself soon enough.”
Darcy could not say anything critical without sounding like a despicable friend. So he agreed to keep Bingley’s intentions a secret for the time being. Bingley was too besotted already. Darcy only hoped his observation of Jane Bennet at the ball would prove that she was as much in love with Bingley as he was with her.
If she was not, he and Bingley they would both leave Hertfordshire heartbroken.
Much to Mr. Bennet’s dismay, his wife spent far more than he had allotted on his daughters’ new clothing for the Netherfield Ball. Mrs. Bennet was relentless in her efforts to unite Jane and Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Bennet only gave in to her demands to put an end to her diatribe about how gauche it would be for their daughters to be dressed in gowns two seasons out of style, and without new lace, ribbon, or shoe roses. It would reflect poorly on the entire family, according to his wife’s logic. Not only was there Mr. Bingley to impress, but that dear Mr. Wickham, and a whole camp full of officers. If Jane did not end the evening engaged, Mrs. Bennet would be gravely disappointed.
The day before the ball, Elizabeth and Jane were sewing on their new shoe roses. Mary was practicing at the pianoforte, eager for her turn at entertaining such a large gathering.
“Lizzy, we have just returned from Meryton—and you have an admirer,” cried Lydia as she came into the sitting room with five pairs of new gloves she and Kitty had retrieved from a shop.
Elizabeth looked up from her sewing. “What do you mean?”
“See how well she pretends to be ignorant, Kitty? No need to be missish, Lizzy. Everyone saw how close the two of you were at the Phillips’ house and the Long’s dinner party. Mr. Wickham sends you his affections and is heartbroken he will not be able to dance with you at the Netherfield Ball. Our dear Wickham was not invited, all because of that dull fellow, Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth paled. It had not been easy, but she had accepted that Mr. Wickham played her for a fool. The incident did not clear Mr. Darcy entirely of suspicion, but she had decided to keep her distance from Mr. Wickham. It relieved her to know he would not attend the ball. She now regretted spending so much time with him. And Lydia was correct—everyone had seen them together. Now when she kept her distance from him, people would assume she was a jilted lover. It was a fair but distressing price to pay for her lack of caution.
“I am sure Mr. Wickham will soon forget his grief,” Elizabeth said.
Lydia was satisfied with that response, let the subject drop, and continued on about how perfect she would look for the ball, and how she would dance every dance with an officer.
By the end of the afternoon the gowns and shoes were in pristine condition. Mrs. Bennet spent the bulk of dinner chattering about how wonderful the ball was destined to be and how certain she was it would end in a proposal.
Jane did not try to rein in her mother’s expectations, but Elizabeth felt her sister’s embarrassment.
Mrs. Bennet insisted her daughters go to bed early, for it would not do to show up at the ball with bags under their eyes. It was a relief when it came time to retire for the night.
The following evening, the Bennets piled into their carriage and travelled the three miles to Netherfield. Mrs. Bennet was certain her daughters would be the most beautiful young ladies there, especially Jane.
“I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing, my dear Jane. Mr. Bingley will have no choice but to propose.”
Elizabeth frowned. “Mama, if you do not take care, people may suspect you are only eager to have Mr. Bingley propose because of his wealth.”
“Oh, hush, Lizzy, what do you know about it? No one will think it improper. It is obvious to everyone in the neighborhood that Jane and Mr. Bingley were made for each other. Is it fortuitous that he is a wealthy man and a Firstborn Son? Of course!” Mrs. Bennet trailed off when she saw no one was acknowledging her.
Elizabeth knew there was little use in continuing the discussion. Her mother was single- minded when it came to marriage.
Jane squeezed her hand, grateful for her sister’s attempt.
It was a relief to all when the carriage pulled into the line in front of Netherfield, allowing the dozens of guests to alight and congregate as they waited to enter the lavish house.
***
Darcy sensed the moment Elizabeth Bennet entered Netherfield. Her scent was a heady mix of lavender, roses, and something that was uniquely Elizabeth, something akin to sunshine. Darcy was unsure how that was possible, as the sun never shone directly upon England, and had not done so in centuries. He honed his preternatural senses, focusing them on Elizabeth Bennet. At last he spotted her in the crush. If his heart could still beat, it would be racing. As it was, he felt a strong pull urging him to her side. He cursed himself for his weakness, but denying his attraction and feelings for her would get him nowhere. He only hoped one day she could move past her prejudice and give him a chance to win her heart.
Bingley stood beside him, scanning the crowd for Jane. Darcy could tell when he found her, for he nearly abandoned his duty to greet the other guests in line ahead of the Bennets.
Caroline seized his coat sleeve and whispered, “Charles, so help me God, if you embarrass yourself or me by ignoring all others to fawn over Jane Bennet, I will never forgive you.” Caroline’s words were only heard by the person they were intended for, and by Darcy. Mr. Hurst had abstained from standing with them, insisting that greeting guests at a ball was a job for single people, and had taken his wife to the bowl of blood-infused wine. By the looks of it, he was already several glasses in.
When the Bennets finally appeared before them, performing all the usual niceties, Bingley openly defied his sister’s wishes and bowed over Jane Bennet’s hand, kissing it for longer than appropriate. The gesture did not seem to shock any of the observers, but Darcy could tell Caroline was furious about the tableau before her.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth looked up at him through her lashes. She was not pleased to see him, but the glassy look was absent from her fine eyes, and she was not staring at him as if he were a monster. He supposed that was the best he could hope for.
“Good evening, Mr. Darcy,” she said, her tone carefully neutral.
Darcy was overwhelmed by her beauty. Her creamy skin was amplified by the deep scarlet gown she wore. Her luxurious hair was styled into an elegant coiffure and fastened with pearl hairpins—he longed to dismantle the arrangement and see the gleaming curls he one day hoped would spread across his pillow. He heard her pulse hammering beneath the surface of her skin and, though she did not look it, he could tell she felt nervous. She offered him her hand and he held it longer than he ought, but no one noticed their interaction for no one in Hertfordshire was interested in him. He was in no danger by singling out Elizabeth.
Elizabeth left him to seek out Charlotte, and it was almost impossible not to feel bereft. When all the guests had finally arrived, Bingley opened the ball, and danced with Jane for the first two dances. Darcy took a post at the corner of the ballroom, intent on observing his friend’s partner for any sign that her regard was equal to Bingley’s.
***
“You must feel quite triumphant,” Lady Lucas said to Mrs. Bennet.
Mrs. Bennet smiled, “Why, whatever do you mean? Why should I feel triumphant?”
Lady Lucas glanced at Jane and Bingley, and Mrs. Bennet said, “Oh, yes. Quite proud. He is quite in love with her, and why should he not be? If Mr. Bingley does not propose tonight, I shall be very much surprised. Everything is happening exactly as I wished.”
Unbeknownst to them, they were overheard by Darcy, who was also observing Jane and Bingley. To Darcy’s perception, Jane received Bingley’s attentions with pleasure, but displayed no amount of happiness particular to Bingley. From what he had seen, she was just as warm and engaging with every other man with whom she danced. Mrs. Bennet’s crowing about proposals did not ease his mind.
Nearly an hour into the ball Darcy was quite sure Jane did not truly love his friend and was following the wishes of her mother rather than her own heart. He was obliged to tell Bingley. He could not allow his friend to suffer by discovering his love was unrequited. Tomorrow would certainly be a difficult day.
Darcy made his way through the throng of guests. He had waited long enough. The dancing would resume shortly. A few moments later he found himself standing directly in front of Elizabeth Bennet and Charlotte Lucas.
“Miss Elizabeth, may I have the honor of dancing the next set with you?”
Elizabeth looked startled, but the beginnings of a blush crept up her cheeks. It was enough.
“You may,” she said.
Darcy bowed in thanks and offered her his hand.
Elizabeth took it and allowed him to guide her to the dance floor. Some couples were already congregating, including Jane and Bingley.
Bingley seemed inordinately pleased with himself and Darcy could not help but wonder why.
Jane waved at Elizabeth, who returned the gesture.
When the music began again, it was not a lively reel or other such country dance tune. Rather, it was a slow waltz. Elizabeth flushed deeply this time. The waltz was still considered scandalous in England and was only beginning to make its way into society. People deemed it too intimate.
Darcy generally agreed, but in this moment, he could not imagine any greater pleasure than holding Elizabeth close and whirling about the room.
They were not the only people surprised by the choice, but the dancers slowly took their positions. Elizabeth tentatively placed her other hand on his shoulder. Darcy put his hand on her lower back and pulled her closer, and they began the dance.
Elizabeth’s breath was shaky as she allowed Darcy to lead her. She had never waltzed before, and being this close to a man she thought she disliked was doing strange things to her sensibilities. The pressure on her lower back from his cool strong hand was oddly comforting, and sent shivers down her spine that were not altogether unpleasant. Unwittingly she pressed herself closer against his body, and the room around them seemed to vanish.
“I have never waltzed before,” she admitted.
Darcy looked down at her, a hint of a smile on his lips.
“I am honored to be the man to share your first waltz, Miss Elizabeth.”
His voice was smooth, almost intimate. Or perhaps she just interpreted it that way because he was holding her securely in his arms. He spun them around once more, just as the music began to slow. His fingers tightened around hers. Suddenly she noticed something strange—Darcy did not seem to be breathing. She was about to speak of this when the dance ended, and they were forced to draw apart.
Darcy reluctantly released her hand and thanked her for the dance. He bowed correctly before leaving her alone with her suspicions.
“Lizzy!” cried Charlotte, “Come sit with me. You look flushed.”
Elizabeth had not noticed it, but it now seemed that her partner for the waltz had garnered her some attention. She was suddenly very grateful for Charlotte’s rescue.
“My dear friend, the fact that Mr. Darcy asked you to dance a waltz with him has not gone unnoticed. I thought you did not like Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth was now painfully cognizant of the curious eyes upon herself and Charlotte.
“I do not like Mr. Darcy,” she protested. “I did not know it was going to be a waltz or I would never have agreed to it. I barely glanced at my dance card.”
“It will not seem that way to our friends and neighbors,” Charlotte said. “Mr. Darcy has been here over a month and has not paid attention to any lady save for you. Come, Lizzy, you need not withhold anything from me. You and Mr. Darcy grew close during your stay at Netherfield.”
“No,” Elizabeth said. “Charlotte, I beg of you, let this matter drop. If my opinion of Mr. Darcy ever does change, you will be the first to know it.”
That response satisfied Charlotte and she happily changed the subject to that of Jane and Bingley.
“I worry that dear Mr. Bingley may not know how strongly Jane feels for him. She is so reserved. Men are ridiculous creatures and often do not declare themselves unless there is significant encouragement.”
“If Mr. Bingley does not know how much Jane cares for him, then he is foolish indeed,” Elizabeth said.
“We are all fools in love, Lizzy. I expect you will learn that soon enough,” Charlotte said, her eyes gleaming as if she knew something Elizabeth did not.
***
Elizabeth’s blood ran cold when she overheard a familiar voice. She spotted Mr. Wickham a few moments later, conversing with Lydia, Mr. Denny, and Mr. Carter. After learning he had put a Thrall on her, Elizabeth had sought to protect herself from Wickham as best she could by carrying or wearing a large silver cross pendant. She had foolishly left it behind tonight in favor of more traditional jewelry. She had thought lack of an invitation would keep him from entering the house, but he must have convinced someone to invite him in. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw Caroline Bingley greeting him, allowing him to kiss her hand.
Elizabeth surreptitiously made her way to the parlor, where earlier she had observed a small ornate silver cross on the fireplace mantelpiece. It was an odd ornament for a Firstborn Son to display in his home, but Elizabeth had suspected that was Caroline’s doing. Elizabeth removed the cross and fastened it to her lower back with the sash of her gown, so that if Mr. Wickham dared to approach her, the cross would be in easy reach.
“Miss Elizabeth, I am so happy to see you. I was most aggrieved when I did not receive an invitation, for it meant I would be deprived of an evening in your company.” Wickham drew closer and attempted to take her hand.
Elizabeth quickly stepped out of his reach.
“Pray forgive me, sir, but I am not feeling well.” Elizabeth spoke loudly but no one paid attention to either of them; they were in a corner, and the orchestra was playing a lively reel.
“It is nothing a dance would not cure,” Mr. Wickham said in a silky voice.
“I do not intend to dance the rest of the evening,” she answered. Elizabeth would have moved further away but her back was now against the wall. The leering smile on Wickham’s face made him look like the predator he was. He put one hand on the wall near Elizabeth’s face.
“What is troubling you, my dear Miss Elizabeth? Were you forced to dance with that despicable Mr. Darcy? If so, your desire to refrain from dancing would be understandable.”
Elizabeth stealthily reached for the cross. Wickham was oblivious to her discomfort … or, rather worse, he was delighted by it.
“You may confide in me,” Wickham said. “Did Darcy’s hand slip and violate you? For if it did, I would gladly drain him dry.”
Elizabeth gasped as he flashed his fangs.
“Mr. Wickham, this is hardly an appropriate discussion for a ballroom,” she said in a strong voice, hoping to garner any attention.
***
As soon as Darcy saw Wickham enter the ballroom, he had tracked his movements. Darcy cursed himself for allowing himself to be distracted by Caroline’s complaints against the Bennets, for now Wickham was practically pressed against Elizabeth in the corner and no one was coming to her aid, for they were all too involved in the festivities. Darcy quickly found Colonel Forster and told him quite forcefully to have Wickham removed.
***
Wickham’s hand was on Elizabeth’s waist.
“Come now, you were so fond of my company a few days ago, and now you are being quite missish. I would never have thought you capable. If it will soothe your sensibilities, I can assure you that my attentions are not fleeting.”
He caressed the line of her waist, and it was that action that moved Elizabeth to strike.
She swung the cross forward and thrust it into his face. As soon as it contacted Wickham’s flesh, it began to sizzle.
Wickham cried out in pain as he drew away. An angry red scar marred his handsome visage.
“You little whore,” he cursed. “How dare you!”
Suddenly Wickham was pulled back by Colonel Forster and Darcy.
Elizabeth was mortified to be caught in this situation by Darcy, especially after the warning he had given her. She tucked the cross back into her sash and fled the room, seeking solace in the garden.
Wickham tried to struggle out of the grasp of his captors, and when he could not, he began shouting obscenities. It was quite a scene and attracted the attention of almost all in attendance. Most in the neighborhood favored Wickham over Darcy and were bothered at the man’s pride for having such an excellent dancer and charming companion removed from Netherfield.
When they threw him past the threshold, Darcy disinvited him from Netherfield.
Wickham snarled. “You will regret humiliating me, Darcy. So help me, I will kill that precious love of yours.” With that, Wickham sped off into the night.
Darcy cursed himself for not having the forethought to carry a stake with him. He should have anticipated Wickham coming to the ball despite his lack of invitation. He had failed to protect Elizabeth, and now he must make amends.
***
Elizabeth sat on a bench in front of the marble fountain. A full moon hung in the inky sky. The sounds of revelry from within breached the peace and solitude of the garden, but it was still a reprieve from the humiliating incident she had just endured. She was surprised Darcy had interfered at all; why should her well-being concern him? Perhaps his actions were not about her at all but merely about his pride, and his desire to best a boyhood rival. The idea that Darcy truly cared for her was too preposterous to consider.
Just behind her, the sound of a branch breaking shattered the illusion that she was safe and alone. Elizabeth turned to see Darcy approaching. For the second time since she had met him, she felt a bizarre urge to throw her arms around him and allow him to protect her from the muddled world in which they lived. She dismissed the urge as temporary insanity.
“May I sit?” Darcy asked.
Darcy was the last person she would have chosen as her companion, but truthfully, she did not wish to be alone. Perhaps that was why she gave him permission to join her on the bench.
He sat on the edge. She might be imagining it, but he looked decidedly nervous and repentant—two states of mind she had never before associated with him. They sat in silence for several minutes until he moved closer.
“I apologize, Miss Elizabeth, for failing to protect you from Wickham.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “I did not realize it was your responsibility to protect me, Mr. Darcy.” She had not meant to sound harsh, but in these circumstances, it might be excusable.
“I was the only person in Hertfordshire who knew Wickham’s capabilities, and I kept that a secret. Furthermore, I am the reason he targeted you.”
Elizabeth did not wish to consider the meaning behind those words.
“You seem to hold yourself responsible for a great deal, sir. Is it your fault the sun does not shine directly in England as well?” Elizabeth said in a desperate attempt to diffuse the tension.
Darcy reached out to her, only to draw his hand back a second later with a hiss of pain. It was smoking from accidentally touching the cross that was on her lap.
She leapt to her feet. “You are a Firstborn Son. Stay away from me,” she cried.
“Wait.” Darcy grabbed Elizabeth’s hand to keep her from retreating.
“Unhand me at once, sir. I do not wish to be lied to by another Firstborn Son.” She tried to remove her hand from Darcy’s.
“Please, Miss Elizabeth. I am going to explain, and I will not utter a single falsehood,” Darcy said, looking upon her with pleading eyes.
Elizabeth gave in despite her better judgment. She sat down and said, “First, let me look at your hand.”
Darcy turned his palm so she could see the burn. It was not as severe as Wickham’s, for Darcy’s flesh had barely grazed the holy relic.
“Does it hurt much?” she asked, biting her lower lip.
Darcy could hardly tell Elizabeth his hand did not hurt nearly as much as the look she had given him moments before.
“It will heal. Mr. Wickham’s face will be forever scarred—a job well done, Miss Elizabeth.”
She smiled, then took a handkerchief from her pocket and wrapped it around Darcy’s injured hand. It was the least she could do.
“When I came into Hertfordshire, I did not wish anyone to know I was a Firstborn Son. I have had a difficult time with my family since going through the Immortal Rite, and I confess I have been running from my troubles. I simply wanted to be left alone.”
Elizabeth could understand wanting to escape one’s family. She was ashamed to admit it, but she had often wished certain members of her family miles away.
“And your family troubles were no doubt heightened by Mr. Wickham’s involvement?” Elizabeth ventured.
Darcy looked pained for a moment before nodding. “Miss Elizabeth, I have not told this to any other person except my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Only he and those involved know the full story.”
“You need not include me in such intimate personal histories,” Elizabeth said, in a small voice. “I understand some matters are too painful to speak of.”
Darcy shook his head. “You misunderstand my meaning, Miss Elizabeth. I need you to know the truth. Knowing the truth will save you from being Enthralled again. I was Turned five years ago, as the Dictates command. That summer my father took it upon himself to turn Wickham as well. It was against the Dictates, but my father appealed to the courts out of debt to Mr. Wickham’s father—or so he always said. Wickham spent the next year at Oxford, ostensibly studying the law and adjusting to his new life. I did not trust him, so I had him followed. Soon it was apparent he was not intent on following the Dictates. He did not drink from the poor, as demanded, and he killed. That summer several young ladies were discovered dead. I investigated and found Wickham responsible. I was going to report him to the courts, but on the day before I was due to leave for London my younger sister announced her engagement to George Wickham.”
Darcy paused for a moment. It was clear to Elizabeth this man was not accustomed to confiding in anyone; in a way she felt honored that he valued her enough to choose her as a confidante.
“My father was overjoyed. He had always valued Wickham as a son, and now Wickham could join our clan. I begged my father to reconsider, detailing all I knew of Wickham’s illegal behaviors. My father did not believe me. On the eve of the Eternal Rite, Wickham came to me and threatened to kill my sister if I reported him to the courts. He offered to disappear if I paid him ten thousand pounds. I did so, hoping rather than believing he would vanish from my life forever. Georgiana was heartbroken. She was only fifteen years old and he was her first love. My father accused me of driving Wickham away out of jealousy. After that incident, life at Pemberley was barely tolerable. I left that winter and have since avoided my family. Much of my time has been passed with Mr. Bingley or on my own. As you can imagine, it was a nasty surprise to find Wickham in Hertfordshire after all these years.”
Elizabeth touched his hand. “Forgive me, Mr. Darcy. I should not have believed Mr. Wickham’s lies; and I have been unkind to you because of that.”
“You could not have known; and you were Enthralled. There is nothing to forgive. I only hope we can begin anew.”
“I would like that,” Elizabeth said. She had misjudged Darcy, and she owed him a second chance. It was just as Jane had told her.
For the first time in their acquaintance, Elizabeth witnessed Darcy truly smile, and that smile was for her. The effect on his features was incredible and, had she been standing, her knees would have failed her.
Searching for something to break the tension of the moment, Elizabeth said, “I fear we have been missing for some time. Someone is bound to notice our absence.”
Darcy would have been happy to spend the rest of the evening alone with Elizabeth, but he acknowledged her point. He had no wish to compromise her. Winning her hand in that manner would be deplorable. He wanted her love and her trust.
“Go. The ball is almost over. I will tell Bingley I am going to retire early.”
“Goodnight then, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said, offering her hand in friendship.
Darcy took it, and was overwhelmed by how right it felt in his.
“Goodnight, Miss Elizabeth.”
Charles Bingley felt on top of the world when he awakened the morning after the Netherfield Ball. He had his valet dress him with care, for he wanted to look his best. Today was the day Jane Bennet would make him the happiest of men. They had spent much of the evening together at the ball, and he felt certain she loved him as he loved her.
Bingley knew his sisters had reservations about the match, but he hoped they would move past those once he told them how happy Jane made him—and that he had felt the Call for her. They were fated to be together, and today would be the first day of a perfect eternity.
He bounded down the steps to the dining room to find that the rest of his party there. Mr. Hurst was drinking deeply of the Blood Wine, still in his cups from the previous evening of revelry. Caroline and Louisa were busy mocking the vulgarity of the people in Hertfordshire. Darcy seemed quite distracted, gazing at his injured hand and then out the front windows, as if searching for something.
“Charles, thank goodness you are awake. Louisa and I were just discussing the deficiencies of the lady who desperately wishes to call you son-in-law. Did you hear her all night, telling anyone who would listen that there would be a wedding in no time at all? It was disgraceful. I will own that Jane Bennet is lovely, but—”
“Caroline,” Bingley said sharply. “I would be very careful in finishing that thought. I have wonderful news to share and it is far more important than disgracing a lady whose greatest flaw is being a bit silly.”
Caroline turned to her brother, surprised at the forcefulness of his tone. Her brother had never had much of a backbone, which she had always used to her advantage.
Bingley withdrew a ring box from his pocket.
“When we first came into Hertfordshire, I felt something I never would have expected to feel. After two years as a vampire and an endless amount of time in high society, I had despaired of ever finding a true partner. When I first saw Jane Bennet, I felt the Call. With every day I spent with her, I grew more certain that Jane was the one I was Turned for. Today I will propose to her and it is my belief that she will make me the happiest of men.”
“Charles, no. You cannot be serious. I will not allow you to throw your reputation away for a country nobody,” Caroline said, rising from her seat.
“It is not your place to tell me whom to marry, Caroline. I know you and Louisa have reservations about her family, but I will not hear another word against them, as they are soon to be my family.”
“Charles, Jane Bennet has nothing to recommend her. The estate is entailed away, she has no fortune of her own, none of her family have gone through the Immortal Rite. Our father did not work hard to earn you your position in society for you to throw it away on a passing fancy. No matter what you might think, the Call can be wrong.”
“Darcy, I beg of you, talk some sense into this lovesick fool. Miss Bennet’s heart is certainly not touched. Everyone at the ball heard Mrs. Bennet crowing her triumph that her daughter had ensnared a wealthy Firstborn Son.”
“I heard no such declaration,” Bingley said.
Darcy rose and placed his hand on Bingley’s shoulder. If he did not interfere, the matter would turn ugly.
“Charles, let us speak in private before you say anything to your sister that you might regret.”
“Oh, very well,” Bingley said. He had not expected Caroline to be happy, but he had not imagined that he would be attacked for his choice either.
***
Bingley crossed the study and headed for the liquor cabinet.
“I do not understand what came over Caroline. How could she accuse my dear sweet Jane of being mercenary?” It was too early to imbibe, but he needed something to soothe his nerves. He poured himself a generous portion of brandy.
“Bingley, I know you do not want to hear a word against Miss Bennet, but …”
Bingley gave his friend a cold look. “Not you as well.”
“I was not going to say anything against Miss Bennet, not in the way you believe.”
“What on earth do you mean?”
“Caroline was not wrong about Mrs. Bennet telling everyone in attendance how proud she was that her daughter had secured your affections. She made no secret about how happy she was that you had five thousand a year. It is quite clear that Mrs. Bennet does not care by what means her daughters secure husbands.”
“But did you hear Jane agree with her mother’s declarations? Have you seen us together and doubted her genuine affection? She loves me as I love her, of that I am certain.”
Darcy frowned. He would not bring up the deficiencies in the Bennet’s connections or status, or their uncouth behavior —to do so would be hypocritical. He had concluded those very things would not stand in his own way if he ever believed Elizabeth would accept him. However, he would be a poor friend if he allowed Bingley to enter a marriage where the affection was unequal.
“Jane Bennet is a charming young lady with easy manners. I have observed the two of you together, and she receives your attentions with pleasure, but I must admit to noticing she behaves much the same with other men. It is my belief that she has been acting under her mother’s wishes. I do not doubt she enjoys your company, but I have not seen any sign that she truly loves you. I am sorry to say so, but I would advise against offering for Miss Bennet—you might very well end up with a wife who does not love you, and for a vampire that means an eternity with unrequited love. I would not wish that for you, Bingley. You deserve a partner who will love you as deeply as you do her; and failing that, a lady who will at least improve your position in society. Marriage is rarely a matter of love, but you do have the luxury of making a love match if you wish. Offering for Miss Bennet would be a wasted opportunity.”
It gave Darcy no pleasure to say such things to his closest friend, but he abhorred disguise of any kind.
Bingley looked broken as he stared at Darcy.
“Do you truly believe she does not love me?”
Darcy nodded.
“No, I cannot give her up. I will find a way to earn her love,” Bingley said.
“Perhaps you should spend Christmas in London.”
“I have just told you I will not abandon her. What would people in this neighborhood think if I left with no explanation? My poor Jane would be treated as a jilted woman. I could not do that to her.”
Darcy doubted Jane would feel jilted, but he could not deny the accuracy of Bingley’s suppositions when it came to the community.
“I will make it known that unavoidable business in town drew you away. You and your sisters should depart today. If Jane Bennet truly loves you, then she will be heartbroken by your departure. If that is the case, I will write to you, and you can return knowing that the lady returns your love. I will not get in the way of a proposal and I will raise a glass to your future happiness.”
“What if I leave and she moves on?” Bingley asked. “I would never be able to live with myself for losing her.”
“If you truly believe she feels as you do, then you have nothing to fear. If she does move on with some other man, you will know that her heart was never truly touched. It is not a perfect solution, I grant you, but you need only spend a month in town.”
“And you will stay here at Netherfield?”
“If you wish,” Darcy said, knowing full well he could not leave Elizabeth unprotected while Wickham remained in Hertfordshire.
“I do. You should invite your sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam here as well. I would not want you to be alone, especially during the holidays.”
“Bingley, I am not as troubled by memories of my Turning as you believe I am. I would be fine on my own; but if it will put your mind at ease, I will do as you ask.”
“Good,” Bingley said. “And the minute you see my Jane grieving for me, you will write?”
“You have my word.”
“Very well. I shall go tell my sisters and we shall depart in a few hours.” Bingley left the study to speak with his staff.
Darcy sank into a leather chair by the fireplace. Caroline would be overjoyed to leave. Darcy owned that a month ago he would have agreed with her objections to the match, but he was coming to realize wealth and status did not mean everything—especially when one lived forever—and there was no greater punishment than an eternity without love. If he could spare Bingley that agony, then his interference was well worth it. Still, he felt guilty telling Bingley to leave the woman he loved, when her sister had just agreed to begin anew with himself. He knew not what his own future held, but he hoped it would include Elizabeth Bennet.
***
Caroline could not help but feel triumphant when her brother told them to prepare to go to London for the Christmas season. She knew Darcy would be able to convince her brother to abandon Jane Bennet. She would have to find some way to express her gratitude. After ensuring the maids were packing her trunks, she went to find Darcy. He was in the library with a cup of Blood Wine.
“Mr. Darcy, I must express my thanks to you. You know how foolish my brother can be. I love him, but he is weak when it comes to a pretty face and fair assets. I do hope you will be joining us in London.” She smiled brightly at him, clearly under the impression they were a united front against the union of Jane Bennet and Bingley.
“I will remain here to oversee the goings-on at Netherfield as a favor to your brother. As for convincing your brother to leave, he made that decision quite on his own.” Darcy knew if Caroline were privy to the plan, she would do everything in her power to intercept any letter from him. While Darcy was guilty of thinking Jane Bennet held no affection for Bingley, he was not vehemently against the match as Caroline.
“You will remain here all on your own? No. You must join us in Town.”
“Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam will join me here. I have sent an express. Now, if you will excuse me, I have letters to write.”
Caroline was deeply dissatisfied with their exchange, and decided the most effective way to channel her anger would be to write a letter of her own.
***
Dinner that evening was interrupted by a message from Netherfield.
“Oh, Jane!” cried Mrs. Bennet, “It is addressed to you! It must be an invitation to dine. Mr. Bingley is the best man in the world.” She handed the letter to Jane, whose complexion was rosy. Her smile faded as she read the letter, and by the time she finished, her smile was gone.
Jane held the letter to her heart and ran from the room without excusing herself.
Elizabeth found her sister still in tears a half hour later. She locked the bedroom door so their mother would not barge in.
“Jane, I must ask what was in that letter,” Elizabeth said.
Jane wordlessly handed it to her and wiped her reddened eyes with her handkerchief.
The letter was stained with tears in a few places, but Elizabeth was still able to make it out.
My dear friend,
Forgive me for saying farewell in such a hurried manner, but it was the only way. Business has called my brother back to London, and it is quite unavoidable. I accompany him, along with the Hursts. We have enjoyed our time in the country immensely, and that is largely because of your company. However, Charles says we will not return into Hertfordshire. Mr. Darcy remains for the rest of the year to close out the house and assist in finding a new tenant. I must tell you a secret now, for it will be in the papers soon enough. Before we came into Hertfordshire, my brother was courting another young lady, but her father had not given his blessing. Just this morning, along with a letter from his solicitor, my brother received a message from the lady’s father giving permission for my brother to propose. Charles is quite eager to do so. Miss Edwards is charming, with a large fortune and, although it breaks my heart that you could not be my sister, I believe she and I will grow quite close. So, farewell, my dear friend. I wish you all the best for your future.
Yours,
Caroline Bingley
“Can there be any doubt as to what this means? Caroline is warning me before I see it in the papers because she values me as a friend. Mr. Bingley never loved me at all—or if he did, he chose money over love,” Jane declared in a broken voice.
Elizabeth shook her head, outraged at Caroline’s audacity.
“That is the wrong interpretation. This letter was written by a cruel, vindictive woman who does not deem you good enough for her brother. Think about it, Jane. Did you ever hear Mr. Bingley mention another young lady? Could you doubt he loves you after all the time you spent with him? Mr. Bingley loves you, of that I am certain. You must visit our aunt and uncle in London.”
“I cannot do that, Lizzy. It would break my heart all over again to see him with another woman.”
“Such a woman does not exist,” Elizabeth said.
“I know Caroline to be incapable of deception,” Jane said. “Lizzy, please, do not dwell on this. I will move on, with time.” Jane lay down on the bed and turned away from Elizabeth, silently declaring the matter closed.
Elizabeth, however, was determined to get to the bottom of it.
***
George Wickham let the body of the young lady he had just drained hit the ground beside the officer’s quarters. His hunger sated, he was ready to move on to more important matters—vengeance being his top priority. Elizabeth Bennet would die tonight, and that would satisfy on multiple accounts. The little Bennet chit had marred his face only hours ago. Killing her would also destroy Darcy—after the bastard had humiliated him at the Netherfield Ball—so Wickham felt more than justified in killing Darcy’s lady love.
The moon illuminated the Longbourn garden ever so slightly. Wickham listened carefully. Judging by the sounds, everyone within the house was asleep, save for one. Wickham walked around to the house to the garden, and spied a solitary light on in the window above. There was a shadow and the window that quickly disappeared. Moments later, Lydia Bennet appeared in the garden.
“My dear Mr. Wickham,” she uttered a breathy sigh. “I saw you wandering below my window. Have you come to take me away? I thought your heart belonged to my ungrateful sister.”
Wickham smiled and bowed. “My dear Lydia, you have found me out. I was a fool to think Miss Elizabeth could hold a candle to the most tempting girl in the neighborhood. Forgive me for not dancing with you at Netherfield. It would have been an honor.”
“There is nothing to forgive. Why, it was that horrid Mr. Darcy who had you expelled.” Lydia crossed the garden and boldly placed her hands onto Wickham’s shoulders. “Let us not talk of dull people like Lizzy and Darcy. They do not matter.”
“I believe, my dear, I could be persuaded to follow your suggestion.” He captured her lips in a deep kiss and she fell limp in his embrace, overwhelmed by the feelings he created within her. “Yes, my pet, sleep,” Wickham whispered against her flesh.
Lydia’s eyelids closed and she ceased moving.
It had not been his intention to take his next action, but he never passed up an opportunity to increase his circumstances. He slid his fangs into Lydia’s neck and drank deep. When he withdrew, he sliced his palm and squeezed a few drops of blood into her open mouth, then slung her over his shoulder and sped away.
The powerful feeling of Siring a new vampire was unmatched, which is why the Dictates forbade it in most circumstances. Wickham, however, had never lived his life by the Dictates. He happily dug a shallow grave a short distance from Longbourn with a shovel taken from the garden and placed his silly burden into the earth. After quickly covering her body he said into the darkness, “When you awaken, my dear, we shall have such fun.”
“Oh, Mr. Bennet, it is truly the worst day ever!” Mrs. Bennet cried as she entered her husband’s library.
“My dear, I have no wish to hear about the man who jilted our daughter. When Mr. Bingley moved into Netherfield, you swore he would marry one of our girls. That did not happen and now he has left. There is no need to mention his name ever again.”
“No, no. It is much worse. Indeed, I have never felt such fear. The unthinkable has happened. Lydia is missing. Her bed was never slept in! Oh, we are ruined. Our youngest daughter has eloped.”
This news was outrageous enough for Mr. Bennet to set down his newspaper. “Are you quite sure?”
“Of course I am! How could I not be? Once people discover Lydia’s disgrace, our entire family will be doomed forever. No one will marry any of our girls, and when you die we shall all be thrown out into the hedgerows to make our way or starve.”
Mr. Bennet rose from his seat and began to pace, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. At length he said, “No one will discover anything if none of us leave the house. I will search on my own, and you and the girls will remain indoors and speak to no one. Is that clear?” Mr. Bennet was rarely this serious. He had never made any effort to control his family, and in fact, had done the opposite, allowing his youngest girls and his wife to run wild. He was now paying the price for his error, and saw it as his responsibility to fix it. Somehow.
***
When Darcy woke the following morning he had a message from his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. He and Georgiana would arrive at Netherfield that evening.
Darcy spent much of the day in the Netherfield garden reflecting on the events of the Netherfield Ball. Elizabeth had discovered his secret, but he believed she would keep it to herself. Over and over he heard her precious declaration that she would like to begin anew. He would do it correctly this time, and would earn her love. There was no use denying his proposal was imminent; when he had a sign she would accept, he would drop to his knees and ask for her hand. Perhaps he would do so in this very garden. It was here he had been vulnerable, a rarity in his life. Much to his surprise, it had felt good to be so open with the lady he loved—the lady he hoped would one day spend eternity with him.
***
The four remaining Bennet sisters tried in vain to occupy themselves in a productive manner. Kitty was the most distraught, for she was closest to Lydia in age and temperament. The other Bennet daughters had shed their tears and voiced their concerns but understood being inconsolable would not help their father discover Lydia’s whereabouts.
At length, a list was obtained from Kitty naming the officers Lydia was most fond of so Mr. Bennet could seek each man individually. Even though Lydia had been a shameless flirt with the Regiment, the list of officers whom she truly esteemed was rather short and consisted of Mr. Denny, Mr. Carter, and Mr. Wickham.
Elizabeth’s stomach turned at the thought of Lydia running off with Mr. Wickham. She could only pray that was not the case.
When Mr. Bennet spoke with Denny and Carter, he discovered they had not seen Lydia or their friend Wickham since the night of the Netherfield Ball, which was two nights ago. Mr. Bennet reported his findings to his family and then returned to his library. Finding Lydia was not a task he could do on his own so he sent an express to his brother-in-law, Edward Gardiner.
Mr. Gardiner arrived the following morning and the two men spent the entire day out of the house, attempting to discover Lydia without attracting unwanted attention. They returned at dinner only to report their efforts fruitless. They had not been able to locate Wickham either, but did learn that Colonel Forster had approved Wickham’s request to go to London for some days of leave.
On the third day of Lydia’s disappearance the family received less-than-welcome news from their cousin who would inherit Longbourn. The family was at breakfast when the letter arrived.
Mr. Bennet opened it with a flourish. “It is from Mr. Collins. He writes he has just gone through the Immortal Rite, thanks to the patronage of the esteemed Lady Catherine de Bourgh. On her advice, he is coming to visit us to mend the rift between his late father and myself.”
“Papa, we cannot host a guest. What if Lydia is not found by the time Mr. Collins arrives?” Jane said nervously.
“To refuse him would look suspicious. We must behave as if nothing has changed. Mr. Gardiner and I will find Lydia before Mr. Collins arrives next week, and all will be well.”
“Do you share my father’s opinion, Uncle Gardiner?” asked Elizabeth.
“I do,” he said. “You must not worry. I have a business associate in Gretna Green who has agreed to investigate the matter. If Lydia did elope, we will know shortly. I am awaiting his letter.”
For the third afternoon in a row, Elizabeth and Jane tried to distract themselves with mending and other menial tasks. Mary played the pianoforte tirelessly, and Kitty sobbed by the window, hoping to see Lydia coming up the path. Mrs. Bennet had not left her bed since Lydia’s disappearance.
“Oh, look, someone is coming! It is that tall fellow, that unpleasant friend of Mr. Bingley. What on earth is he doing here?”
Elizabeth looked up from her stitching. “Mr. Darcy?”
“Right, that is his name,” Kitty said. “I thought he left with the Bingleys.”
Elizabeth had known he remained in Hertfordshire, thanks to Caroline’s letter, but she had not expected he would deign to call at Longbourn on his own. She wondered what his motive could be.
The bell rang and soon Mr. Bennet entered the sitting room.
“We cannot invite guests in today. Mr. Darcy has asked to see you, Lizzy. Go outdoors and make him go away.”
Elizabeth made her way to the front of the house and opened the door to find Mr. Darcy awaiting her. She closed the door behind her as she stepped out.
“Mr. Darcy, to what do we owe this visit? I had expected you to return to London with Mr. Bingley. I have to wonder what would induce you to stay?”
“I remain as a favor to Mr. Bingley,” Darcy said. “As to my presence here today, I wished to see you.”
“I appreciate your honesty, sir, and you flatter me. But I am afraid we cannot entertain guests today. My mother is quite ill, and my sisters and I are taking turns at her bedside. We are all so worried; we would make terrible company. You are welcome to call another day.”
Elizabeth turned to go back in the house but her retreat was prevented by Darcy’s hand on her wrist, just as he had done in the garden.
“Please, Miss Elizabeth, if I could have but a few minutes of your time,” Darcy said, clearly apprehensive about some matter or other.
“Oh, very well, let us take a turn about the garden,” Elizabeth said. Elizabeth returned a few moments later with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She led him away from the main house and into the small garden.
“Is something else troubling you, Miss Elizabeth? Has Mr. Wickham been here?”
“Why would you think that?” Elizabeth asked.
“You would not believe me if I told you,” Darcy said, avoiding her inquisitive gaze. “Suffice it to say no one is safe around that man, particularly you. He detests being humiliated, and by burning him with the cross you have made yourself a target for his vengeance.”
Elizabeth paled. She had not thought about such consequences of her actions. Could Lydia’s troubles also be due to that act of foolishness?
Darcy seemed to sense her distress.
“Rest assured, Miss Elizabeth, as long as he is not invited into your house, you and your family are safe at Longbourn.”
“We have not seen him since the night of the ball,” Elizabeth said. “I thank you for your warning, Mr. Darcy, but I really must return to my mother.”
“Of course you must,” Darcy said. “I hope I may call upon you again soon.”
“You could call on Friday,” Elizabeth said, for she could only hope Lydia would be found before the week’s end.
Darcy smiled. “Until Friday then. I hope your mother recovers … and, Miss Elizabeth?”
“Yes?”
“Please, be on your guard. Wickham is a dangerous enemy.”
***
A pale hand emerged from the wet earth. Wickham locked his own hand around it and pulled. Lydia Bennet, covered in grime and blood, emerged from the shallow grave. She found her footing, and peered around before falling into her Sire’s arms.
“My dear George,” she panted, “I have never felt so well in my entire life—nor so hungry.”
Wickham smiled. “The change suits you, my dear. Come, let us Hunt.”
“I have the perfect target,” Lydia said.
“And who might that be?”
“Miss Mary King. Her father just died and left her ten thousand pounds. Ever since, she has acted superior to me, even though she is ugly and a frightful bore. Do you not think she deserves to be reunited with her departed father, my love?”
“It would be wrong for us to keep them apart,” Wickham agreed with a sinister smile.
After the deed was done, Lydia looked down at the pale face of Miss King and the body of the housekeeper, feeling sated. She turned to Wickham and said, “Let us go somewhere to celebrate my turning.” She took his hand and pulled him out of the King house and onto High Street. They soon found a dark corner behind the milliner’s shop. “I should like some lace for a new gown. It could be your engagement gift to me.”
“I am afraid that will have to wait. I must go to London, and I must leave tonight.”
Lydia pouted. “Why? You just turned me and now you will abandon me? Are we not going to partake of the Eternal Rite?”
“You have my word we will be married soon, but Colonel Forster has sent me to London.” He removed a slip of paper from his pocket. “You will write to me here. Keep me apprised of all the goings-on concerning Mr. Darcy.”
“Why?”
“That is my concern,” Wickham said, taking her hand in his and peering into her watery blue eyes. “You will write to me with any useful information. And under no circumstance are you to tell anyone who Sired you. Is that clear?”
Lydia nodded. She kissed him one last time before releasing his hand.
“Return soon, my dearest love. I shall miss you with every fiber of my being.”
Wickham bowed and sped off into the night. Having Lydia Bennet Enthralled would be very useful as he planned his ultimate revenge upon Darcy and Elizabeth.
***
Lydia wiped her mouth and Mary King’s blood stained her white glove. The gloves would have to be thrown away, considering she had been buried in them, so it hardly mattered. She ran down the path toward Longbourn, delighting in her new speed. The house was quiet when she reached the front door. It was not yet sunrise. Caring not that she would wake the entire household, she pounded on the door and rang the bell.
After several minutes, a footman answered the door, a sleepy Kitty trailing just behind him. When she realized who it was, Kitty threw her arms around her sister.
“Oh, Lydia! You have returned at last.”
“Indeed I have, dear sister. Now pray, invite me in.”
Upon hearing the commotion below, Mrs. Bennet came clattering down the stairs. “Oh, Lydia, my darling angel, where have you been all this time?” Mrs. Bennet sobbed as she embraced her youngest child.
The family then congregated in the dark sitting room, anxious to hear the story. Lydia pulled away from her mother’s arms, looking the slightest bit annoyed.
“Oh, Mama, I am not a child anymore. I am to partake in the Eternal Rite in a few weeks’ time. My beloved is away in London, but as soon as he returns, we shall be Eternal Partners and I shall live forever with the most handsome man in the world. It is all I ever wanted.”
Mr. Bennet paled. “Someone Sired you?”
“Of course! Why else would I have been gone three nights? I just dug myself out of my grave this evening,” Lydia said, as casually if she were discussing the weather.
Mrs. Bennet was speechless with joy that her daughter was now an immortal.
Mr. Bennet, however, was less than impressed—especially since the Firstborn Son had not even bothered to accompany Lydia home.
“Who did this to you?” he demanded.
“I cannot tell you,” Lydia declared, “for I promised so faithfully I would not. I will always obey him, for even though we are not yet united, he created me. I am reborn. Rest assured that when my Sire makes himself known, you will be very proud of me for ensnaring such a remarkable Firstborn Son.”
Mrs. Bennet was nearly in tears from happiness—not only had her daughter returned, but she was soon to go through the Eternal Rite and join the upper echelon of society. It was all Mrs. Bennet wanted for each of her daughters.
Mr. Bennet, however, was not swayed by Lydia’s speech. He exchanged a glance with Mr. Gardiner, and the two men converged upon the fledgling, grabbing her by either arm.
“Papa, what are you doing?” Lydia cried, not realizing she could have easily broken their grasp with her new strength.
“I am locking you in your room until you are prepared to tell us who Sired you and where he is. He must marry you now, or our family will be ruined. I doubt you gave a care for your family when you allowed a degenerate to seduce and Turn you. If he had any honor he would have remained at your side.”
Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner threw Lydia into her bedroom. He would have to get a stronger lock tomorrow; until then he hung a cross above the door handle in a manner that made it impossible to open the door without being burned. He barred the door, hoping that the crosses would be a strong enough deterrent to any attempted escape.
Although much had changed, Mr. Bennet was certain his youngest daughter’s vanity was also eternal.
***
The next two days passed at a torturous slow pace. Lydia spent nearly every moment of the day and night shouting about how her family was jealous of her new condition. In between tirades she would attempt to break down her bedroom door without touching any of the crosses, for Mr. Bennet had decorated it with several more, and had installed a heavy iron padlock as well. When her escape attempts failed, Lydia would resume her ranting and raving. At long last, she began to tire, for she had not fed since the night she had emerged from her grave.
Mrs. Bennet convinced her husband to obtain some Blood Wine from London. Mr. Gardiner, a tradesman, was particularly useful in completing the task without attracting suspicion.
Lydia received the wine, genuinely grateful to her family for the first time in her new existence. Afterwards, she was entreated upon by her mother to reveal her the name of her Sire. Although Lydia refused, Mrs. Bennet left the discussion feeling strangely assured everything would turn out right in the end.
Mr. Bennet was under no such delusion. It is a difficult thing to face one’s personal failings, and Mr. Bennet was not taking it well. He had raged at his youngest for over an hour, but she had not broken. It was perhaps the most time Mr. Bennet had spent with any of his children, but it was not nearly enough. He had lost Lydia through his indolence and now he had to pay the price. He only hoped Kitty would learn from this and curb her own recklessness. He was less worried about his other daughters.
At long last Friday arrived, and Elizabeth found herself wondering if Mr. Darcy would keep his word and call on her. It was strange to be desirous of his company, but after a week spent solely in the company of her discordant family, she craved any distraction. Mr. Gardiner hat returned home the day before, and now only her immediate family remained.
At breakfast, she mentioned they might have a visitor today. This news was met with mixed reactions.
Mr. Bennet was adamant no one should be allowed to visit until they could convince Lydia of the necessity to keep her new condition a secret.
Mrs. Bennet was certain a visit would do them all some good, until she inquired about the identity of the visitor. Upon finding out it would be Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet said, “Why would that horrible man bother to call at Longbourn without Mr. Bingley? It is quite beyond my understanding. The last thing I would wish for is that proud man discovering my beloved Lydia’s disgrace. He would maliciously tell the rest of the neighborhood and we would be forever ruined.”
Jane, ever the voice of reason, said, “Mama, we cannot avoid visitors forever. Mr. Collins arrives Monday, and we must not hide away from our neighbors. He will expect to meet people. Lydia can remain upstairs.”
Jane also had an inkling that Elizabeth wanted to see Darcy; and although this was indeed the case, Jane was quite mistaken about the reason behind the desire.
Mrs. Bennet threw up her hands in exasperation. “Oh, very well. Should that odious man call, you and Lizzy will be available to see him. If he deigns to ask—which I doubt he will—you must say the rest of the family is in Meryton. Kitty and I will sit with Lydia and ensure she stays quiet.”
“Mama, surely once Lydia realizes the consequences of refusing to hide her condition, she will see reason. Lydia loves society more than anything.”
Mrs. Bennet smiled at Jane’s declaration and agreed with it heartily.
Elizabeth was less than convinced, but chose not to say so.
Mr. Bennet voiced his opinion. “Perhaps you are correct, Jane. Until now, we have kept Lydia locked away, but she did not believe I would keep her away from guests. Perhaps missing such an occasion will make her see sense—although it would be more effective if the caller were someone well liked in the neighborhood.” After this, he folded his newspaper and returned to his library.
***
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam gave his cousin a wry smile. “Darcy, I have never seen you so eager to pay a call to anyone,” the colonel declared. “The Bennets must be a diverting family to command such enthusiasm.”
Darcy refused to dignify the comment with a reply.
“I am a man of my word. The Bennets are expecting my call.” Or at least, he hoped Elizabeth was. He had not seen her in three days and was desperate to be in her company again to experience the joy and relief that only she could give him.
“And would they be terribly inconvenienced if they received another caller as well?”
Darcy gave his cousin a sidelong glance. “I do not recall inviting you.”
“You did not. I just invited myself. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley are in the music room, and Georgiana seems quite determined to play all day. I do love the dear girl, and her performance is admirable, but her selections have been so morbid these past years. I do not believe I can tolerate listening to another dirge today. And before you mention him, he has been Disinvited from Netherfield, and has not been spotted in Hertfordshire for three days. Georgiana will be quite safe.”
“Oh, very well,” Darcy grumbled. He had hoped to delay Colonel Fitzwilliam’s visit to Longbourn a while longer, mainly because his cousin was always the preferred guest whenever they were in company together. Darcy could not tolerate Elizabeth delighting in the colonel’s conversation. His cousin also knew him better than anyone in the world and Darcy was sure that, after a visit, the colonel would guess the truth that Darcy had yet to tell him: that he was in love with Elizabeth Bennet.
***
Mrs. Hill entered the sitting room with two calling cards in her hand. She presented them to Jane.
“Lizzy, who might Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam be?”
“I do not know,” Elizabeth said. Admittedly, her attention was on the other card that bore Mr. Darcy’s name, and she was ashamed of herself for it.
“You may send them in, Mrs. Hill,” Jane said.
Mrs. Hill curtsied and left the room. A moment later, the two gentlemen entered. Darcy presented the second man as his cousin.
Colonel Fitzwilliam made a delightful first impression, greeting each of the elder Bennet sisters in a charming manner. Darcy was much more reserved in his greeting. The colonel intercepted his path to the chair nearest Elizabeth, so Darcy had to settle for sitting beside Jane—which was not a punishment by any means—but his cousin had not known Elizabeth for two minutes and was already stealing her attention away.
After a few moments of pleasant conversation, Elizabeth turned to Darcy, her eyes sparkling with humor.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, your cousin seems to be in poor spirits. As you know him better than I, perhaps you could explain why that might be.”
“Perhaps he has guessed I am about to ask you about his time in the neighborhood. He may be ashamed of his actions and is therefore unhappy with what your answer might be.” Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled broadly at Darcy.
“It would be impolitic of me to tell you what occurred on Mr. Darcy’s first night in the neighborhood,” Elizabeth said. “Do you not agree, Jane?”
Jane, who had been nearly as reticent as Mr. Darcy during this visit, was surprised to be asked such a question. Knowing her sister delighted in teasing everyone, Jane felt the need to defend Mr. Darcy against such maneuvers.
“That is all but forgotten, I am sure,” Jane said.
“Indeed not, Jane. Why our mother mentioned it again just last week. I fear Mr. Darcy may never forgive me if I reveal it to you, Colonel.”
“Pray, tell me what you have to accuse him of,” the colonel said. “I should like to know how he behaves among strangers.”
Elizabeth turned to Darcy, expecting a response, and was not disappointed when he said, “I have had the pleasure of your acquaintance long enough to know you find great enjoyment in professing opinions that are not your own. I am not frightened of what you have to say.”
“Your cousin will paint a very pretty picture of me, and teach you not to believe a word I say. I fear I must now retaliate by telling you that I first met Mr. Darcy at a ball, and he did not dance a single dance—not even with members of his own party! Gentlemen were scarce and there were several young ladies from whom he could choose. Is that not unheard of?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed. “I wish I could say it was, but I have never known my cousin to dance at all if he can avoid it. It would not surprise me if you said he attended several assemblies since then and refused to dance at those as well. I fail to see, however, why he would not dance with either you or your sister.”
“He danced with Elizabeth,” Jane said, “at the Netherfield Ball. Mr. Bingley was quite thrilled at his success in convincing his friend to join the festivities.”
Darcy turned his gaze to Jane, his unexpected ally, and gave her the barest hint of a smile.
Jane responded in kind before averting her gaze. It had been the first time she had spoken of the Netherfield Ball since Bingley’s desertion, and her pain was still quite raw. Jane’s discomfort did not go unnoticed by Elizabeth, who was now intent upon avoiding the subject of Mr. Bingley for the remainder of the visit.
“I would have liked to see that,” Richard declared. “Tell me, Miss Elizabeth, did he tread on your feet?”
Elizabeth flushed at the memory of dancing in Darcy’s arms. To cover her discomfort, she hid behind humor, as was her habit. Her response caused the colonel to laugh loudly.
Darcy, however, failed to catch the joke for he was distracted by the lovely hue that lit Elizabeth’s fine features. He dared to hope she recalled their waltz with pleasure.
The visit was far too short for Darcy’s liking and, much to his annoyance, his cousin had managed to monopolize the conversation. This was no difficult task, as both Darcy and Jane contributed little. Elizabeth told the colonel about the inhabitants of the neighborhood and he expressed interest in attending an assembly and making their acquaintance in due time. Too soon, it was time for them to depart.
Farewells were exchanged, and Elizabeth decided she had thoroughly enjoyed meeting Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was remarkable, really, how dissimilar Darcy and his cousin were. The colonel was open and affable where Darcy was reserved and enigmatic. Elizabeth would be happy to further her acquaintance with the colonel. He would greatly improve the company at assemblies.
Once they were alone again, Elizabeth turned to her sister.
“Was it difficult to see Mr. Darcy? If being in company with him is a painful reminder of Mr. Bingley’s absence, we need not invite him again.”
Jane shook her head. “No. I cannot avoid him, nor do I wish to. It is not as if he is responsible for Mr. Bingley’s departure.”
“Would you be averse to me asking Mr. Darcy if he knows when Mr. Bingley may return?”
“You are free to discuss whatever you wish with him, Lizzy; but Caroline made it quite clear I will never see Mr. Bingley again. I have made my peace with it.” Jane picked up her needlepoint and resumed her work, clearly wishing for the discussion to end.
Elizabeth’s heart went out to Jane. Mr. Bingley should have been the one to accompany Darcy on this visit, and she could not help but feel Caroline was directly responsible for Jane and Bingley’s separation. She vowed to find an opportunity to ask Darcy about Bingley’s departure, although she did not expect much of an answer.
***
“Darcy, what on earth is the matter with you?” the colonel said upon entering the billiard room after dinner that evening.
Darcy missed his shot as he looked up at the intruder.
“Nothing. I am attempting to improve my game.”
“You are the best billiard player I know. That is not what I am referring to. You barely said a word at dinner, and you have been sullen since we returned from visiting the Bennet ladies. Do you care to tell me why that is?”
“No, I do not.”
“Well, I have never seen you act in such a ridiculous manner. You barely spoke at all. It is a marvel either of the ladies had anything good to say for you. Is this how you behaved when you first came into Hertfordshire?”
Darcy did not answer initially, but after his cousin insisted on remaining and playing against him—all the while pestering him with questions—Darcy finally surrendered.
“Very well; if you must know, I am unhappy with you.”
“What did I do?”
“Miss Elizabeth spoke almost exclusively with you during the entire course of the visit,” Darcy said.
When Darcy missed the next shot, it became clear to Colonel Fitzwilliam that his cousin’s words were genuine.
“You hardly spoke with her at all so why should you care? I only saw you smile at Miss Elizabeth.” But then the reason behind his cousin’s unhappiness dawned on Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he felt foolish for not recognizing realizing it sooner. He could not recall the last time Darcy had ever offered a genuine smile to a lady. “You are interested in Miss Elizabeth,” he guessed, certain he was correct.
That Darcy said nothing in response was confirmation enough.
“Well, you did a poor job of showing it,” the colonel said. “I do apologize for upsetting you though. I had no idea.”
Darcy shrugged. “Do not trouble yourself over it. I did not want you to know.” His tone declared the matter closed.
His cousin was wise enough to not continue the conversation, but now that he knew the lay of the land, he suspected future visits to Longbourn would be far more entertaining.
Elizabeth was quite surprised when Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were announced again the following afternoon.
Lydia’s irritated voice could be heard from above.
“Papa, I want to meet him. He is an officer!” It was evident Mr. Bennet’s response was not what Lydia wished for a crash was heard, and Elizabeth suspected it was the vase on Lydia’s bedside table. Lydia still did not understand how important it was for her to hide her condition. She insisted she would not pretend to be less than she was, for her Sire had chosen her above all others.
The gentlemen entered the room and this time Darcy secured the seat nearest Elizabeth.
“Miss Elizabeth, I trust you are well today?”
“Very well, indeed, sir,” Elizabeth said. Her statement was punctuated by a resounding crash from above.
Darcy and the colonel glanced at their hosts, curiosity evident in their expressions.
“My sisters are practicing dancing, and are unfortunately lacking in grace,” Elizabeth said. “Colonel, how long have you been in Hertfordshire?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam graciously accepted Elizabeth’s sudden change of subject.
Darcy could see Elizabeth was troubled, and he longed to be the person in whom she could confide.
“I arrived several days ago with Darcy’s sister,” the colonel answered. “I do hope you will get to meet her soon. She would have liked to join us today, but she is suffering from a headache.”
“We have heard Miss Bingley sing Miss Darcy’s praises,” Jane said quietly. “I also would like to meet her.”
Elizabeth saw her opportunity to inquire about the recently departed inhabitants of Netherfield.
“Mr. Darcy, we were quite shocked by Mr. Bingley’s unexpected departure from Netherfield. Miss Bingley wrote she believed they might never return to the neighborhood. Did Mr. Bingley say when he might return?”
“He did not tell me his definite plans,” Darcy said carefully. His gaze went to Jane, who seemed saddened by the news, but it was impossible for him to know if the emotion was due to love for Mr. Bingley, or because she had valued Caroline Bingley as a close friend.
“And how long will you gentlemen be at Netherfield?”
“Through Twelfth Night, I would expect,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. He sensed Darcy was withholding information from the Bennets, although he had no inkling what it could be.
Darcy nodded, privately thinking he would stay at Netherfield for as long as it took to earn Elizabeth’s love.
“You will enjoy Christmas in Hertfordshire, I think. The holidays are less extravagant in the country than they are in London, but they hold a certain charm. Although I expect that you, Mr. Darcy, might not value the holidays as much due to your position in your family.”
Her implication was clear. The colonel was surprised Elizabeth knew Darcy’s secret, for Darcy said he had spread a false tale of his family throughout the neighborhood upon his arrival.
Elizabeth’s attention turned to the colonel.
“Do you have any brothers or sisters, Colonel?”
“I had an elder brother, but while abroad in France the poor fool found himself caught in direct sunlight. You see, unlike ours, the French skies are not always filled with clouds. Finding direct sunlight in England is less likely than being struck by lightning. But in France, it is easy for Firstborn Sons to find themselves in an undesirable situation—which is why they are less prevalent in that society. I am expected to go through the Immortal Rite when I return home.”
“I am sorry for your loss, sir. I had no idea, or I would not have asked,” Elizabeth said.
“Do not trouble yourself over it, Miss Elizabeth. My brother and I were not close. Darcy is much more like a brother to me than he ever was.”
Elizabeth was touched by the colonel’s openness, and a small part of her wished Darcy could be as open with her. Although she had discovered one secret about the man sitting beside her, she was still unsure what to make of him. He was a puzzle to be solved.
Suddenly Mary appeared, her face ashen.
“Jane, Lizzy, something has happened. You are needed upstairs.”
Jane and Elizabeth exchanged frightened glances, before forgetting they were not alone.
“Forgive us, gentlemen, but I must ask you to leave,” Elizabeth said.
“Is there any way we can be of assistance?” Darcy asked, taking note of Elizabeth’s pallor. It did not bode well.
She shook her head. “I apologize, but you really must go. Jane, I will meet you upstairs after I see the gentlemen out.”
Jane nodded and hurried out of the room with Mary trailing behind her.
Elizabeth escorted Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam out of the house and bid them adieu. Just as she was about to close the door, Darcy’s voice stopped her.
“Miss Elizabeth, it would be my honor to host you and Miss Bennet at Netherfield on Tuesday. I believe my sister could benefit from some female company.”
Elizabeth was surprised by this offer, but accepted readily.
“We would be pleased to join you at Netherfield, sir. I thank you for the invitation. Good day.” With that, she closed the door.
***
The colonel and Darcy rode in silence for the first mile of the journey back to Netherfield. Finally, the colonel broke the silence.
“That was rather impulsive of you, Darcy—inviting the Bennet ladies to Netherfield. I suppose I can hardly blame you. It was a peculiar visit, yet entertaining nonetheless. I do hope nothing dreadful happened. The poor ladies looked rather fearful. Did you notice it?”
“Yes,” Darcy said. It was not lost upon him that the rest of the family had been absent on both of their visits, until Mary Bennet had come down. It was odd, but Darcy had not given it much thought until today. He had been too preoccupied with Elizabeth and those rebellious curls that bounced at the nape of her neck. “They seemed unusually troubled and guarded today.”
“They were not the only ones,” his cousin said.
“What on earth do you mean by that?”
“When Miss Elizabeth asked about Mr. Bingley, you did not tell her the truth.”
There was no use denying it. “No, I did not, but it was for good reason.”
“When is he returning? Surely, you do not intend to stay at Netherfield indefinitely. You did not tell me when you expected to depart when you asked Georgiana and I to come.”
“Bingley may never return. He fell in love with a young lady. His sisters did not approve of the match. I suggested to him that he spend the holidays in London, as I was convinced the young lady did not truly love him. I promised to write to him if I saw signs of heartbreak. Neither of the Bennets needed to know this, so I kept it from them. I was protecting my friend.”
“Poor Bingley. Unrequited love is especially terrible when you are immortal. There is far more time to dwell on what you have lost. You are a loyal friend.”
***
Elizabeth ran upstairs to Lydia’s room.
“I am not sorry,” Lydia cried. “He deserved it!”
Elizabeth pushed the door open to find her father lying on the floor. Blood was pouring down his face.
“Lydia, what did you do?” Elizabeth rounded on her younger sister, who looked infuriatingly unrepentant.
“Papa was being an ogre by not letting me meet the colonel—so I broke his nose,” Lydia said, as if that was the only explanation necessary.
Elizabeth scowled at her sister and helped Jane bring Mr. Bennet to his feet.
“Lydia,” Jane said, “you cannot attack our father. He is only trying to keep you safe. If your secret is discovered, your reputation will be ruined.”
“Why should I care about my reputation? I will outlive you all,” Lydia said.
“You realize you will never leave this room if you do not agree to act ‘unchanged’ until your Sire returns,” Mary said, as Elizabeth and Jane did their best to clean their father up.
Lydia pouted. “It is not fair.”
“All you need do is pretend to be ordinary, Lydia. I have told you that again and again,” Mr. Bennet said.
Lydia turned to her father. “And I would be free to go to assemblies?”
Mr. Bennet nodded, only because if he did not agree, he would face more injuries in the future. A broken nose was quite enough for him.
“Your older sisters will keep an eye on you and help you conceal the secret. Agree and I will remove the crosses from the door.”
Lydia considered for a moment. At length, she grumbled, “Oh, very well. Until my Sire returns, no one will know. But, oh, how envious everyone shall be when I go through the Eternal Rite.”
***
Georgiana Darcy had gone through an ordeal four years ago. She still felt as if her heart was missing. She wondered if she would ever feel happy again. At the pianoforte she poured her emotions into the music, choosing only melancholy tunes these four years. This expression helped but a little, and the relief was fleeting.
She felt a different kind of relief when the butler arrived with a letter on a silver tray and she saw the direction. Per her brother’s instructions, she had not written to her family in ages, having spent the last few years in Town with either her brother or her cousin, but upon arriving at Netherfield she had posted a letter to her mother at Pemberley, as she longed for maternal comfort.
The letter itself, however, was not in her mother’s hand. In fact, the bulk of the missive was not even written to her.
My dear Georgiana,
Your mother thanks you for your letter, and she will respond on another occasion. Forgive me for taking this opportunity to directly communicate to my children. You will deliver this letter to your brother. He has been hiding from the clan long enough. I hope you are well, my dear girl.
Father
Fitzwilliam,
If you do not return to Pemberley by the first week of January, I will have you hunted down and arrested. You have avoided your family and your responsibilities long enough, and I will no longer indulge this fit of temper.
Your Sire and Father
Georgiana wondered if her father’s correspondence would compel William to listen. The Sire Bond remained a mystery to her. She did not understand why there was still a rift between her brother and her father. They had dealt with her ordeal together—or so she had been told—but then William had left. This was only her third visit with him since his departure from Pemberley, although he had always been faithful in his correspondence with her. She thought the invitation to spend Christmas at Netherfield meant they could finally be together as a family for longer than a day or two. She had even foolishly hoped her mother and father might come to Netherfield as well.
Georgiana knew she must deliver the missive, but she also suspected William would be angered by it—angry with their father no doubt—but she feared his anger might extend to her as well. She rose, determined to bear her brother’s ire with grace. After all, she had already disappointed him, and she doubted this indiscretion would compare.
She found William and their cousin Richard in the billiard room.
Darcy turned to her with a smile. “Are you feeling any better, sweetheart?
“I am. I would have liked to join you at Longbourn,” she said. “Perhaps we may all visit soon?”
“I have already invited Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth to Netherfield. They have three other sisters, but I thought meeting all five at once would be overwhelming.”
Georgiana appreciated her brother’s thoughtfulness and thanked him for his consideration. Then she took a deep breath.
“William, I received a letter from our father today, although it was not directly for me. He asked me to deliver it to you.”
“You promised you would not write to him, Georgiana,” Darcy said coolly, taking the letter from her.
“I did not. I wrote to Mother. I did not think she would tell him. I asked her not to. Please, do not be angry with me.”
Darcy’s expression softened. He knew it was hard on Georgiana to be cut off from her parents, and that she had done so to please him.
“I am not angry with you, Georgiana,” Darcy said, “but I will not read this letter.” He consigned the parchment to the fireplace. “Do not tell me what was in it. If you receive further communication from our father, I hope you will not respond.”
“If that is what you wish,” Georgiana said.
“It truly is for the best,” the colonel said. “If you wish to see your mother, I will take you with me when I return home in a few weeks.”
“I would like that very much,” Georgiana said. “May I?”
“Richard is also your guardian, Georgiana. If you are with him, you may go wherever you please.”
“Thank you,” Georgiana said, embracing her brother and her cousin in turn. “I think I will retire for the evening. Good night.”
Once they were alone again, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to Darcy.
“What do you think was in that letter?”
“It does not matter. My father has been trying to contact me for three years, but I do not care what he has to say.”
“It is dangerous to ignore him, Darcy. If he truly wants to find you, he will; and now he knows you are in Hertfordshire.”
“He will not come,” Darcy said. “He is unaccustomed to not having his way, but he will not lower himself to do anything about it directly. I will deal with him on my own terms.”
The colonel could only hope Darcy was correct. The Christmas holiday could be ruined by an ugly scene between Darcy and his father, and Georgiana would be hurt in the process.
On Monday, the Bennets sat in the drawing room, awaiting Mr. Collins’ arrival. “What sort of man will he be, Papa—a man of good sense?” Elizabeth asked.
“If his letter is any indication, he has little sense, which will be far more entertaining for us.”
“You must be civil to him, my dear,” Mrs. Bennet said. “He will have the power to either save us or ruin us after you are gone.”
“Too right, my dear; but let us consider that I might outlive you. I will be courteous to the man, although his father was not so with me.”
Mr. Collins rode up on a spindly grey mare. He did not cut a fine figure on horseback—his dismount was clumsy, and he arrived disheveled. He was brought into the house and introductions were swiftly made. Mr. Collins embarrassed himself by fawning over his pretty cousins.
Mrs. Bennet was charmed by him, for it mattered not that he was needlessly obsequious as long as he flattered her by complimenting her daughters.
At dinner, Mr. Collins was revealed to be foolish and a poor conversationalist. He was awkward and could not tell that some members of the family were laughing at him.
“I was honored by the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh when she chose me as her parson. Of course, such a great lady could not tolerate having her protégée be a mortal man, so she arranged for me to go through the Immortal Rite. This is excellent wine, Mr. Bennet. Did you obtain it from London? It was very good of you to have it available. My father always spoke of how thoughtless you were, but I have seen no sign of that.”
Mr. Bennet sighed, but when his wife glowered at him from across the table, he said, “Mr. Collins, you will be subjected to every courtesy while under my roof. We are honored by your visit. There are not many Firstborn Sons in the neighborhood.”
“I am sure this will be a most pleasant visit. Why, with such fine company, how could it not?”
“Is flattery your passion, Mr. Collins?” Elizabeth asked.
“It is not a passion of mine, but I find people enjoy hearing compliments so I have memorized several that might be of use to me.”
“And do you take care to arrange a situation in which you might use such pretty words? Or do you wait for the opportunity to happen naturally?” Elizabeth asked.
Mr. Bennet covered his laugh by sipping his wine.
Mr. Collins was oblivious to the mockery behind Elizabeth’s questions, and instead took them as a sign of her interest in him.
“I prefer them to occur naturally, of course—and might I add that you are a delightful conversationalist.”
Lydia snorted into her wine.
Elizabeth appeared rather embarrassed at such a compliment.
Unexpectedly, Mary came to her rescue by asking Mr. Collins’ thoughts on Fordyce’s Sermons. The topic was clearly a favorite of his, and the remainder of the dinner was spent discussing the volume.
After dinner, Mr. Collins approached Mrs. Bennet for a private word.
“Mr. Collins, was the Blood Wine not to your liking? If not, you may tell me your preferred vintage and I shall have my husband obtain it.”
“No, madam, the wine was excellent. I want to speak to you about a more delicate matter.”
“Pray enlighten me, sir.”
“I came here at the behest of my patroness. She says it is time I choose a wife, and it is my intention to select this wife from amongst your daughters. In this way I can put to rest the conflict between your husband and my father, do you not agree?”
“You are very wise indeed, sir. You are welcome to any of my daughters, although I must tell you my dear Jane is in a courtship. I expect the gentleman will offer for her very soon.” Mrs. Bennet did not regard what Miss Bingley had written. She was certain Mr. Bingley would return—and she could not risk losing him as a son-in-law. “Elizabeth is next to Jane in age and beauty. She would do very well for you.”
“Elizabeth would do very nicely indeed. I thank you for your candor, madam.” Mr. Collins bowed and returned to the sitting room, choosing the seat nearest to Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet smiled, proud of her machinations.
***
Mrs. Bennet was persuaded to allow the girls the use of the carriage to drive to Netherfield the following day. There was little use in denying them the carriage this time; with no Mr. Bingley in residence, she had no reason to conspire for her daughters to spend the night there.
Elizabeth was grateful to escape the grating presence of Mr. Collins, who seemed to have singled her out. He was a ridiculous and odious man, and she would much rather spend an afternoon with the silent and proud Mr. Darcy than with the insufferable parson.
Jane was silent for most of the carriage ride until Netherfield came in to view. Then she said resolutely, “I shall not allow memories of Mr. Bingley to ruin my enjoyment of this afternoon. I am sure Miss Darcy will be delightful, and Colonel Fitzwilliam is a good sort of man.”
Elizabeth smiled. How kind of Jane to put on a brave face! But Elizabeth knew better than anyone that her sister still pined for Mr. Bingley and would continue to do so for the foreseeable future. As for herself, she was glad that they would not be subjected to the presence of Miss Bingley. She hoped Miss Darcy would be good company, but if she were anything like her brother, she might be more of a silent observer.
They were led into the parlor by the butler and Darcy stood to make the introductions.
Georgiana Darcy was a pretty young lady who carried herself with grace. Her voice was soft as she greeted them. After a few moments, it became apparent to Elizabeth that Miss Darcy was not proud like her brother at all, but rather exceedingly shy. She rarely spoke more than a few words altogether. Knowing of Miss Darcy’s ordeal, Elizabeth was surprised Miss Darcy spoke as much as she did. Elizabeth had never experienced heartbreak for herself, but she had seen it in her sister, and now in Miss Darcy. She was a pleasant person though, and Elizabeth concluded that time spent with other young women might help draw her out of her shell, and perhaps cheer her up.
“Miss Darcy, what are your impressions of Hertfordshire?” Elizabeth asked.
“I have not seen much of the county yet, but I have enjoyed my limited time here. There are some lovely walks that I would like to explore.”
“My sister is a great walker,” Jane said. “I am sure she would be thrilled to show you the best paths.”
“Indeed I would, Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “I would be happy to do so at any time.”
Georgiana smiled, stunned by the kindness of near strangers. Since leaving school, she had not spent much time with females close to her in age, and she found the Bennet sisters delightful.
Darcy was satisfied to see the effect Elizabeth had on his sister. It was remarkable how Elizabeth could bring a smile to Georgiana’s face—such smiles were so rarely seen. At length, Georgiana drew Elizabeth to the pianoforte after speaking of music. Colonel Fitzwilliam joined them there.
Jane crossed the room to Darcy, intent on speaking with him.
“I must thank you, sir,” she said quietly.
Darcy was surprised. He could think of nothing he had done for Jane Bennet of late.
“Lizzy told me you opened her eyes to the monster that is Mr. Wickham. I am very grateful for it. You spared her a great deal of pain,” Jane finished.
“Your gratitude is unnecessary, Miss Bennet. Had I shared my history with your sister earlier, she would have never been Enthralled.”
“You have it all the same, sir.” Jane hesitated a moment before speaking again. In a tone that was distinctly sad she said, “I hope Mr. Bingley and Miss Bingley are well.”
“I believe they are. I will send your regards the next time I write,” Darcy said, struck by the expression of grief upon Miss Bennet’s face. During the previous visits she had not seemed particularly distressed by the mention of his friend, but her unhappiness was undeniable now. Perhaps he had been wrong about her impartiality. If so, then having her gratitude for sparing Elizabeth pain was only a reminder that he had not done the same kindness for Jane or Bingley. It was an unsettling feeling and aroused something akin to regret within his heart.
Elizabeth observed their interaction from across the room and wondered what her sister could possibly have to say to Mr. Darcy.
After refreshments were served, Georgiana gathered her courage and proposed they all go out for a walk. This idea was welcomed by the entire group. They wandered down one of the paths leading away from Netherfield. Jane and Georgiana, who had a similar temperament, chose to walk together, and Georgiana begged her brother to join them. This left Elizabeth and Colonel Fitzwilliam to trail behind. Elizabeth was satisfied with the arrangement because she was determined to ask the colonel about Mr. Bingley, hoping he would be more forthcoming than his cousin.
“Mr. Darcy must inspire great loyalty for you and Miss Darcy to drop everything to join him at Netherfield.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam was surprised Elizabeth wanted to speak about Darcy at all. The colonel was under the impression she did not much like Darcy, and was happy to take the opportunity to change that. Darcy had never expressed interest in any woman. In fact, it was the colonel’s belief Darcy was determined not to find a wife, to spite his father.
“My cousin is a good man; he is the best man I know. Any person who counts him as a friend would say the same.”
“Including Mr. Bingley?” Elizabeth asked.
“Mr. Bingley is particularly indebted to Darcy,” the colonel said. Perhaps sharing the story would make Elizabeth see Darcy’s good side. “I understand that Bingley left Netherfield because he was about to make a dreadful mistake. He loved a young lady who only tolerated his attentions for mercenary reasons. Darcy told Bingley to leave, not wanting his friend to suffer an eternity in a loveless marriage. For a Firstborn Son, choosing the right partner is imperative.”
Elizabeth was outraged. How dare Darcy interfere with Jane and Bingley! She took a deep breath to calm herself, and said, “Did he happen to tell you the name of the young lady?”
“No. He did not say, but Bingley is better off for what Darcy did. Darcy will do anything to protect the people he cares for.”
Elizabeth highly doubted that. He must have interfered because he thought Jane was not worthy of his friend. The pair fell into silence for the remainder of the walk. When they returned to Netherfield, Elizabeth announced she and Jane needed to leave immediately. She bid a warm adieu to Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, but brushed past Darcy without a word.
Jane wondered what on earth could have infuriated her sister, causing her to be openly rude to Darcy. It was quite unlike Lizzy, who usually preferred to hide her barbs behind humor and teasing.
Once in the carriage, Jane asked, “Lizzy, did Mr. Darcy say something to upset you?”
“It is not what he said, but rather what he did, and I cannot tell you about it.”
“Why?”
“It would only hurt you, Jane, and I do not want you to be more heartbroken than you already are. Please trust me; you remaining ignorant of what I have learned is for the best.”
***
Dinner was atrocious. Elizabeth wanted to scream through the entire course of the meal having just learned of Darcy’s interference. Mr. Collins made it significantly more difficult to tolerate. He kept talking to her and flattering her. She had never been more tempted in her life to strike a man.
Claiming a headache, she retired early but sleep would not come. She could think only about how Mr. Darcy had ruined her sister’s chance for happiness. The only good to have come of the revelation was learning Bingley had truly loved Jane—but that made Darcy’s actions even more deplorable. Vexing, proud man! She could never forgive him for this. Gone was his second chance.
It did not occur to Elizabeth that she was not only angry with Darcy on Jane’s behalf.
Nor did it occur to her that she felt betrayed due to her burgeoning feelings for him.
“Mr. Collins, I do believe my daughters would benefit from some exercise. Elizabeth is especially fond of walking,” Mrs. Bennet said after breakfast the following morning.
Mr. Collins was a fool, but even he took Mrs. Bennet’s hint. He proposed they all walk into the village together.
Elizabeth attempted to excuse herself with a headache, but while the others fetched their coats and shawls Mrs. Bennet pulled her second daughter aside and whispered, “Lizzy, I insist you join Mr. Collins—and be civil to him. You will not want to be responsible for us being thrown out on our ears the moment your father dies, would you?”
It was useless to tell her mother the entail was not her particular fault so she grabbed her shawl and joined her sisters.
The walk to Meryton was as intolerable as dinner the previous evening. Elizabeth could not fathom why Mr. Collins focused nearly all his attention upon her. A welcome distraction occurred when Lydia and Kitty spotted Mr. Denny and Mr. Carter in Meryton. Mr. Collins introduced himself, declaring it an honor to meet men who would one day defend them from the French. The officers exchanged smiles with the younger Bennets and humored Mr. Collins.
Mrs. Phillips discovered the Bennet ladies when she exited the milliner’s shop.
“Oh, my dear girls, I have not seen any of you since the Netherfield Ball, and my sister has not answered my letters. Come, you must join me at my house for tea. The gentlemen are welcome as well.”
They paraded to the Phillips’ house. Mrs. Phillips was always glad to see her nieces, and had been desperate to know why they had not been spotted in Meryton during the past week. Mr. Bingley’s desertion could explain Jane’s wish to avoid society, but she could not imagine what would prevent her other nieces from leaving the house. She intended to find out.
“My poor dear Jane, we all thought Mr. Bingley would offer for you after the ball. How are you faring?”
“A little better each day, Aunt Phillips,” Jane said, “and better still when I do not speak of it.”
Jane’s words only increased Elizabeth’s anger at Mr. Darcy. She could not imagine what she might do when forced to be in company with him again.
Fortunately, Lydia distracted Mrs. Phillips with questions about the happenings in town over the past week, which Mrs. Phillips was happy to answer.
“We all grieve the loss of Mr. Wickham,” their aunt said. “He was called away to London, and now the ladies are deprived of one of England’s finest dancers.”
Lydia shared her aunt’s pain, but for entirely different reasons.
“Mr. Denny, have you heard from him lately?” she implored, desperate for news about her Sire.
“Yes. He wrote just yesterday that he will remain in Town for the foreseeable future, but that he favors the society in Meryton to that in London,” Denny said. Then, quietly so only Lydia could hear, he said, “He would like you to write to him, Miss Lydia—he longs to know about the activities of a certain mutual acquaintance.”
Lydia assured Denny she would write immediately upon returning home, although she failed to see why Wickham would care to know the only news was that Darcy’s sister and cousin had joined him at Netherfield.
Meanwhile, Mr. Collins praised Mrs. Phillips, declaring she was the most excellent host, apart from his patroness and Mrs. Bennet.
Mrs. Phillips was highly gratified by the compliment. “Tell me, is your patroness a grand lady?”
“My patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, is the grandest lady in England, to my thinking. She is the mistress of Rosings Park in Kent. I live in the parsonage only five minutes away and she often invites me to dine. She even arranged for me to experience the Immortal Rite. She is the best woman in the world.”
“Oh my, she sounds wonderful. Now tell me, why are you visiting the Bennets?”
Mr. Collins glanced at Elizabeth, who was engaged in conversation with Jane and ignoring him completely.
“I came to choose a wife, and tomorrow I shall offer for Miss Elizabeth. It is only right that a Bennet lady should be the mistress of Longbourn once the honorable Mr. Bennet has passed.”
“You are a true gentleman, sir. Rest assured I shall not spoil the surprise.”
It was clear now. Her sister had been awfully clever, arranging for one of her daughters to marry the man to whom her estate was entailed.
***
The following morning after breakfast, Mr. Collins surprised the entire family by requesting a private audience with Elizabeth. Mrs. Bennet was barely able to contain a screech of joy before ushering her younger daughters out of the room. Elizabeth looked to Jane and Mr. Bennet, silently imploring them not to leave her. Jane looked apologetic as she followed the rest of the family out of the dining room. Mr. Bennet seemed heartily amused.
“Mr. Collins, I cannot believe you have anything to say to me that could not be said in front of the rest of my family. I beg you to excuse me.”
Mr. Collins smiled and stood directly in front of her, blocking her retreat.
“Your modesty, my fair cousin, is one of your many admirable qualities. You can have no doubt why I asked for this private audience. From the moment I saw you, I knew you must be my Eternal Partner. As a clergyman, I am above the baser traditions of other Firstborn Sons. I did not feel the Call of the Blood for you; but I assure you, had I not been ordained, your blood would have sung out to mine.”
“Please, sir, your words are very flattering, but they are unnecessary. I beg of you to stop.”
“My dearest Elizabeth,” Mr. Collins cried, “you are precisely the sort of young lady my patroness would have me choose. Pray, do not worry about your lack of fortune or connections. I am certain once Lady Catherine meets you, she will be assured we are meant for each other.”
Then Mr. Collins dropped to his knees. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would you do me the honor of accepting my hand in marriage and becoming my Eternal Partner?”
Elizabeth was stunned, and repulsed.
“Mr. Collins, you do me honor by proposing, but you must forgive me for refusing. I could not make you happy. If I agreed, I would be subjecting us both to a torture of the acutest kind—an eternal loveless marriage.”
Mr. Collins was not deterred by such a speech.
“I am given to understand it is typical for well-bred young ladies to initially reject the proposals that they secretly intend to accept. The tactic is well employed in your case, and I must tell you that you have only improved in my estimation. I will ask you again this evening and hope for a more favorable response.”
“Upon my word, sir,” cried Elizabeth, “your hope is a rather extraordinary one after my declaration. I am not one to take pleasure in deceiving gentlemen. I was perfectly honest in my refusal. You could not make me happy, and I am the last woman in the world you would wish to marry. If the venerable Lady Catherine were to meet me, I am sure she would declare that I am quite ill-suited to be your Eternal Partner.”
Mr. Collins frowned. “Am I to take it you do not believe yourself worthy of being my wife? If so, allow me to assure you that is quite untrue.”
“You puzzle me exceedingly, sir! I do not know how I can politely express my refusal in such a way as to convince you. Therefore, I am compelled to be frank and tell you I will never agree to be your wife. Any attempt to renew your addresses will be wasted.”
Mr. Collins was aggrieved and shocked, and it took only a moment for those emotions to turn to anger. He stormed out of the dining room—nearly colliding with Mrs. Bennet, who had been listening at the door.
“Mr. Collins, wait! I will make Elizabeth see reason. She will be your wife. I swear to you!”
Her entreaty did not prevent Mr. Collins from leaving the house and making his way to Meryton.
“Lizzy, you wretched girl. If you do not accept Mr. Collins, I will never speak to you again! Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet, pray come to the dining room and order our daughter to marry Mr. Collins.” Mrs. Bennet shouted the last as she ran to fetch her husband from his library.
Elizabeth would have been tempted to laugh if not for the horrid prospect of being forced to marry such a ridiculous Firstborn Son.
Mr. Bennet entered the dining room with a bright smile on his face.
“Mrs. Bennet, I will see this issue resolved. You may return to your sitting room.”
Mrs. Bennet glared at Elizabeth before leaving.
“I fail to see what is amusing, Papa,” Elizabeth said.
“It delights me to no end that your refusal sent that idiotic parson out in a rage. But in all seriousness, my dear, you must now face being a stranger to one of your parents. Your mother will never speak to you again if you refuse Mr. Collins, and I will never speak to you again if you accept him!”
Elizabeth smiled and then embraced her father. “Thank you, Papa.”
“You are most welcome. I would never subject you to an eternity with Mr. Collins. I would not wish that fate upon my worst enemy, let alone my own daughter.”
Mr. Collins did not return to Longbourn. He decided to impose upon the Lucases for a few more days before returning to Kent.
Mrs. Bennet was true to her word and did not speak to Elizabeth all through dinner. Instead she bemoaned the absence of Mr. Collins and the doomed prospects she and her daughters now faced upon Mr. Bennet’s death.
Elizabeth was grateful to retire after dinner. She knew it would be weeks before her mother forgave her or let her forget about her cousin’s ridiculous proposal.
***
Elizabeth could not sleep. It had been months since she had taken a midnight ramble in the fields bordering Longbourn. This habit used to infuriate her mother and, had anyone in the neighborhood ever discovered her alone in the middle of the night, it would have been terribly scandalous. However, Elizabeth knew the likelihood of discovery was slim.
She donned her spencer and gloves. It was quite warm for December, so she elected to go without a bonnet, and did not put her hair up. It delighted her to go against society’s rules, and experience the freedom that only a midnight ramble could provide.
The moon illuminated the peaceful fields that surrounded Longbourn. Elizabeth took advantage of her solitude and broke into a run down one of her favorite paths. Nearly half an hour had passed before she realized she was heading toward Netherfield, as if something was drawing her towards the grand estate.
The peace was disturbed by the sound of footfalls behind her. Elizabeth turned around, only to see Darcy approaching her from around the bend. She was tempted to run away so she would not have to speak with him, but felt as if her feet were rooted to the ground.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy called, and then he was at her side. Elizabeth had never seen him use his preternatural speed before, and it was daunting having him so close so quickly.
“I apologize for my appearance. I have just returned from the Hunt.”
“If you follow the Dictates, sir, your habits are your own business,” Elizabeth said, her tone distinctly cool.
“I can assure you, Miss Elizabeth, I would never violate the Dictates.”
She did not seem to hear him.
Darcy was grateful to discover Elizabeth out in the middle of the night. He had never believed in fate, but standing here with the lady he loved, where they could not be observed, felt preordained. His senses were heightened by the adrenaline of the Hunt, and he could hear the thrumming of her heartbeat. Her blood called out to him, and he longed to take her in his arms and kiss her until she agreed to be his. That was ungentlemanly, he knew, but he could not control his thoughts. His actions, however, were more sedate. He moved a bit closer and said, “What brings you here in the middle of the night?”
“I could not sleep, which I suppose is a poor excuse for scandalous and dangerous behavior. Criticize my lack of decorum if you dare,” Elizabeth said.
“On the contrary, Miss Elizabeth, I am glad to see you.”
Darcy’s civility was discomfiting. How could he act as if he approved of her, when he was the one who had separated Jane and Bingley? Elizabeth decided now would be an appropriate time find out. That way, no one else would ever learn the truth behind Mr. Bingley’s departure.
“I had to turn down an offer of marriage today. If the man in question had truly been in love, I would have felt more sympathy. It is a terrible thing to be jilted, and is often difficult for both parties; one is pitied and the other is censured for capricious behavior.”
Darcy completely mistook Elizabeth’s meaning. Dear, sweet Elizabeth! he thought. She must have been expecting an offer after he singled her out by calling at Longbourn and inviting her to meet his sister. How pleased she would be to receive his proposal. It was that which swayed him to be impetuous.
“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings and natural instincts cannot be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”
Elizabeth’s surprise was beyond expression.
Darcy interpreted her silence as an invitation to continue his addresses.
“During the earliest days of our acquaintance, I felt the Call of the Blood for you, and knew you were meant to be my Eternal Partner. I am ashamed to say I tried to ignore those feelings. Although you are an exemplary lady, your connections and wealth are virtually nonexistent. Your younger sisters, your mother, and on occasion even your father, would be unfit to be seen in London society, and would be an embarrassment to myself and my clan at every turn. But I have come to realize that such things do not matter. An immortal life without you by my side would be meaningless. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the very great honor of accepting my hand and becoming my Eternal Partner?”
Despite her anger towards him, Elizabeth was not insensible to the compliment of such a man’s affections and, although she would never accept him, she did for a moment feel sorry for the pain he was about to receive. However, given how he had struggled against his feelings for her—his reasons presumably the same as those that compelled him to separate Mr. Bingley and Jane—she believed he would be able to move past his disappointment with ease.
“In such cases as these it is, I believe, the established mode to express a sense of obligation for the sentiments avowed, however unequally they may be returned. I would express my gratitude now if I could feel any. But I have never desired your good opinion, and you have bestowed it most unwillingly. I am sorry to have caused you pain, but it was unconsciously done, and I hope it will be of short duration.”
The disturbance of Darcy’s mind became evident in every feature. He had never imagined his proposal would garner such a response.
“And this is all the reply I am to expect?”
Elizabeth’s confidence did not falter.
“Do you truly believe I could accept a proposal from the man who has ruined—perhaps forever—the happiness of a most beloved sister? You cannot deny you separated Mr. Bingley from Jane. Colonel Fitzwilliam told me the tale. You were the principal means of dividing them, and have subjected both to misery of the acutest kind.”
Darcy was silent for a long moment.
“I do not deny it. I had no reason to believe your sister’s heart was touched. Your mother gave me every reason to believe your sister was only accepting Mr. Bingley’s attentions for mercenary reasons. I wanted to save him from an eternity with a partner who did not truly love him.”
“You are blind, if you could believe my sister indifferent. And you overestimate your worth if you believe you could have offered for me in such an insulting manner and received a favorable response. I have no desire to live forever, and certainly not with you as my Eternal Partner.” Elizabeth turned and bolted down the path toward Longbourn, desperate to escape.
Darcy remained until she disappeared into the night. How could he have been so blind? He had truly believed Elizabeth would accept him; now he felt as though his other half had been ripped away. Of one thing he was certain: he would never be able to move on from Elizabeth Bennet—the Call was never wrong. But even without it, Elizabeth had become too important to him. She was as necessary to him as blood itself.
Now he would be forced to live an eternity without her.
Elizabeth was mortified. To think Mr. Darcy had loved her for weeks, and she had been blind to it! She had called him blind in thinking her sister was indifferent, but apparently, she herself was no more observant than he was. Jane and Charlotte had both seen it, and had tried to tell her, but she had dismissed their opinions without a second thought.
She spent the remainder of the night reflecting upon her every interaction with him, and by the time the sun rose, it was clear—his desire to protect her from Wickham, his confiding in her, and his offer to dance with her were only some of the gestures he had made in attempt to convey his regard. And she had ignored them all. These reflections did not make her regret her decision, but they did cause her to doubt her own judgment. Her perception of Mr. Darcy had been entirely wrong, and for a person who prided herself on her discernment, this was a heavy blow. How would ever face him again?
Elizabeth was entirely silent during breakfast, and for some time afterwards. In her mind, she kept hearing Darcy’s declaration, and her own vicious response to his words of admiration. It was a painful experience—and she could only imagine it was far worse for Darcy.
A distraction from such recollections arrived later in the afternoon in the form of Charlotte Lucas. After the expected niceties, Charlotte asked to speak with Elizabeth in private.
“Charlotte,” Elizabeth said, once they were out in the garden, “what secret do you have for me today? I will admit to needing an entertaining diversion.”
Charlotte fidgeted before meeting her friend’s gaze.
“It is not entertaining, per se, but it is rather exciting. I hope you will be happy for me.”
“Of course I will,” Elizabeth assured her.
“Well, as you know, Mr. Collins was our guest last evening, and this morning the most extraordinary thing occurred. Mr. Collins and I are engaged! I depart for Kent tomorrow. My Immortal and Eternal Rites will be overseen by Lady Catherine de Bourgh herself.”
“You have accepted a proposal from that foolish man?” Elizabeth cried.
Charlotte frowned. “I thought you said you would be happy for me. Mr. Collins is a respectable man and a Firstborn Son. I have no hope of ever making a better match. I am twenty-seven years old and a burden to my parents. This is my chance to build my own life.”
“Forgive me, Charlotte. I was merely surprised. I did not think you liked Mr. Collins. But if you are satisfied with this engagement, then I am pleased for you, and I wish you all possible future happiness.” Elizabeth was confounded by Charlotte’s decision, but she could see sense in Charlotte’s logic. Her friend, after all, had never been a romantic and had always professed she could be quite content in a loveless marriage so long as her livelihood was secure.
“Lizzy, I will miss you dearly, and I hope you will visit me in Kent in January, after I am settled in the parsonage.”
“I will miss you too, Charlotte, but we shall write faithfully. I would be happy to visit you at the parsonage next year.”
Although the two young women were vastly different in their views on love and marriage, each firmly believed their long-standing friendship would endure. The rest of the afternoon was spent in pleasant conversation, it being the last occasion they would see each other for quite some time.
***
“Richard?” Georgiana called as she entered the library.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“I am worried about William. I have not seen him for two days. He has been locked away in Mr. Bingley’s study. Do you think he is angry with me for writing to my mother?”
“Why would you think that?” her cousin asked, setting his book aside.
“He was so upset when he received the letter from Father. I do not understand all the reasons behind their estrangement, and I fear I have made it worse.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam stood and embraced his cousin.
“Do not worry, Georgiana. I will speak with him. He has been avoiding me as well, but you know your brother—he is prone to brooding, especially this time of year. I am sure it is nothing serious.”
The colonel left the library with the intention of forcing his way into the study. It was one thing for Darcy to brood, but when his misery affected Georgiana, the colonel felt compelled to interfere.
He began by pounding on the door. When he met with no answer, he kicked the door in. Being a former military man had its uses.
Darcy looked up from the desk. “Why in God’s name did you do that?”
“I will pay for the repair,” the colonel said curtly. “Darcy, you look positively dreadful. Have you eaten anything in the past two days?”
Darcy had not fed since the night of his failed proposal two days prior, even though there was a generous supply of Blood Wine at Netherfield, and an array of tenants and farmers in the neighborhood.
The colonel sighed loudly and poured a glass of the Blood Wine since Darcy did not seem inclined to do so himself. He then poured himself a double of port and settled in the chair across from Darcy.
“Now, tell me what is the matter. Are you doing your usual December brooding and torturing yourself with memories of your final mortal days? Or did something happen to turn you into a recluse?”
“I do not want to talk about it, Richard. You should leave.”
“I will not,” his cousin said. “Believe me when I say I can be just as stubborn as you.”
Darcy did not need to take his word for it; he knew from personal experience. He reasoned it would be less troublesome to tell his cousin now rather than face an endless interrogation.
“I proposed to Elizabeth, and she rejected me.”
His cousin had certainly not expected to hear such news.
“I did not realize you were that serious about her.”
“I felt the Call of the Blood for her when we first met, and spent the intervening weeks attempting to fight my growing feelings. She has no wealth or connections. Her family—except for Miss Bennet—are ridiculous and nearly intolerable company. My father would not approve, nor would most of our clan. Even all of this was not sufficient to stop me from falling in love with her. I offered her the world and she refused, declaring she could not bear to spend an eternity with me.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam had never seen his cousin so distraught. Even after all the terrible business with Wickham in the past, Darcy had kept his feelings under tight control.
“I am sorry, Darcy; but perhaps not all is lost. You may still be able to win her heart.”
“No. I am unmarriageable in her eyes, for I ruined her sister’s happiness, amongst my other sins.”
For a moment, the colonel did not catch Darcy’s meaning. Then he recalled Elizabeth’s anger before she and Miss Bennet left Netherfield.
“Miss Bennet was the supposed fortune hunter that Bingley loved?”
Darcy nodded.
“Well, cousin, that mistake is easily rectified. Just tell Bingley you were wrong. I should have put it together sooner. It was plain to see the poor thing was devastated whenever Mr. Bingley was mentioned, and I have only the benefit of meeting her twice.”
“Elizabeth seemed to believe Jane’s feelings were equal to Bingley’s. I myself was swayed against that belief by her mother’s lack of decorum.”
“You will ride to London tomorrow and fix it, and then Miss Elizabeth will see you are a loyal friend—and a man who will own up to his mistakes. Elizabeth Bennet is a generous young lady. I am sure if you put forth the effort, she will give you another chance.”
“It is not that simple,” Darcy said.
“On the contrary, it is perfectly simple. As for your initial objections to the match, it is all nonsense. You have never cared for the opinions of society, so why should those concern you in matters of the heart? As for the clan, I am sure they will be charmed by Elizabeth as soon as they meet her. You have the luxury of being able to marry for love, and you will forever regret it if you do not fight for the lady you love. Now drink up and go to bed. You should leave at dawn.”
The colonel did not remain long enough for Darcy to argue the point further. As much as it hurt his pride to admit it, he had erred greatly. He could not expect Elizabeth to ever accept him if he did not change for the better and ameliorate the damage he had caused.
***
George Wickham hoped the letter in his hand would contain useful information. Had he known Lydia Bennet would be a terrible informant, he never would have Turned her.
My dearest George,
Hertfordshire is pointless with you away. There have been no assemblies and our only visitors have been that dreadful Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. My father finally decided to let me out of my room, for I had been locked in for more than a week. I apologize for failing you, and for not having anything of import to share. I heard Mr. Darcy’s sister is also at Netherfield, but I have yet to meet her. I recall you mentioning her one time.
All my love,
Lydia
Wickham smiled as he consigned the letter to the fire. If Georgiana Darcy was in Hertfordshire, Wickham could kill her as well as Elizabeth. Then his revenge against Darcy would be complete.
***
When Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the music room the following morning, Georgiana wasted no time before asking, “Where did William go, Richard? I asked the butler and he said my brother left hours ago.”
“He has some business in London to take care of. It is a rather delicate matter and I advised him to see to it personally, and as soon as possible.”
“Is that what was distressing him?” Georgiana asked. “Or was he angry with me?”
“He is not angry with you, sweetheart, and when he returns, he will tell you that himself. And yes, his business is related to his dark mood as of late, but I do believe that if everything goes according to plan, he may be well on his way to a happy outcome.”
“You are being so strange, Richard. What are you not telling me?” Georgiana asked. “And William has been acting strange as well. When the Bennets were here the other day … well I have never seen him act so peculiar and nervous. It was almost as if he were in love.” Georgiana paused to contemplate her brother’s odd behavior, and soon a delighted smile overtook her fair features. “Richard, is my brother in love with Elizabeth Bennet?”
“You are too bright for your own good, my dear.”
“Oh, but this is marvelous. Elizabeth Bennet is perfect for William! But why would being in love make him so sad? Unless … oh, dear … poor William …”
“Georgiana, you know better than anyone that matters of the heart are never simple. In truth, your brother proposed and was refused. He is attempting to fix his mistakes so he may have a chance to earn Elizabeth’s love.”
“What can we do, Richard? I only want William to be happy.”
“All we can do is support him, my dear—and perhaps a little matchmaking would not go amiss.”
Georgiana clasped her hands together and grinned. “May we start today?”
“Why not? Would you care to meet the rest of the Bennet sisters?”
***
Elizabeth and her sisters were lounging in the sitting room. Mary, ever dedicated to her craft, was practicing the pianoforte. Elizabeth sat with a book, though it barely held her attention. Kitty and Lydia were gossiping about the various happenings in the neighborhood, chief among which was Charlotte’s impending nuptials. Jane was embroidering a handkerchief. None of the ladies expected visitors, so it was quite a surprise when Mrs. Hill announced the arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam and Miss Darcy.
Elizabeth was stunned, to say the least, and immediately felt her cheeks burn. What could Mr. Darcy be thinking, allowing his closest relations to visit the lady who had refused him? Or perhaps they did not know of his failed proposal? She knew not how to act or what she would do if Mr. Darcy were mentioned during the visit—which was certainly bound to happen.
Jane made the introductions.
Mary Bennet was much in awe of Miss Darcy after hearing about her proficiency at the pianoforte from Miss Bingley. They were quickly swept up in a dialogue about music and their favorite composers.
Elizabeth was relieved that Miss Darcy acted just as she had when they first met at Netherfield. Perhaps Darcy had not confided in his sister.
Kitty and Lydia could not be bothered to pay much attention to the guests and soon excused themselves from the room so they could walk to Meryton. Elizabeth was glad of their absence. She did not imagine Mr. Darcy would be happy if his sister had prolonged exposure to Kitty and Lydia, who were vain and silly to the point of embarrassment. Mary was more sedate, and had more in common with Miss Darcy so Elizabeth doubted there could be anything to object to in such an acquaintance. Darcy’s criticisms of her family still stung, although she had begrudgingly seen some truth to them.
Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed pleased to see them all and to see his cousin bond with another young lady close to her age. After some time, he asked Elizabeth to show him a view from the front facing window.
“I must ask, sir, what do you mean to discuss with me in relative privacy?” The visit had been pleasant so far, mostly because no one had brought up Mr. Darcy. His absence had not been explained, and none of the Bennets had been inclined to ask.
“It is a delicate matter, Miss Elizabeth. I wanted to tell you my cousin rode to London this morning.”
“And why, sir, would you wish me to know this?”
“Darcy would not wish me to tell you the reason behind his absence, lest it raise your hopes, but I feel it important that you know. Darcy went to speak with Bingley about a certain error in judgment that was made.”
Elizabeth dared not hope that Darcy had gone to bring Bingley back to Hertfordshire. Surely a man of his pride would not take responsibility for his errors. She did not believe her criticisms capable of bringing on such a change as this.
“Thank you. I wish him success in the endeavor.”
She secretly owned that if Darcy could reunite Jane and Bingley, she might be willing to give him another chance. As much as she hated to admit it, she had never been drawn to any man the way she was to Darcy. He challenged her and captivated her, and despite her scruples, she recognized he was the exact sort of man she could imagine marrying.
“Miss Elizabeth, if it is not too presumptuous for me to say, I do believe you and my cousin are well suited for each other. He is a good man at heart and perhaps, with time, you will come to see that.”
It was presumptuous, but Elizabeth refrained from telling him so. In any case, it was true. Aside from his slight at Netherfield, and his blunder where Jane and Bingley were concerned, the worst she could accuse Darcy of was being too silent or too distant. There were moments when he had even been a pleasant companion. Perhaps she had allowed her first impression to blind her to his virtues. This was not an easy realization.
Elizabeth’s guilt at misjudging Darcy only increased when Georgiana and Mary joined them for tea. They had been at the pianoforte looking through Mary’s small collection of sheet music.
“Miss Mary, if you would like, you are welcome to come to Netherfield any time you wish so we can play together. My brother had all my sheet music sent from Pemberley when he invited me for the holidays. It was quite unnecessary, but he knew there were some pieces I wished to learn and practice, and that they were not included in Mr. Bingley’s modest library.”
Mary was flattered by the invitation—and heartily surprised—for she had never heard such glowing words about Mr. Darcy.
“It is wonderful that your brother supports your passion for music,” Mary said.
Georgiana smiled. “Oh, he is the best brother in the world. Last year, he bought me the most beautiful pianoforte, even though I had done nothing to deserve it. He will do anything for the people he cares for.” Mary, of course, was not the intended target for this reply.
Elizabeth was stunned. Unlike Miss Bingley’s disingenuous praise of Darcy, Miss Darcy’s remarks were completely pure. It was clear she thought the world of her brother. When added to Colonel Fitzwilliam’s words, and her own reluctant admissions, a picture of the real Mr. Darcy was beginning to form and Elizabeth was forced to admit it was one to be admired. Not for the first time, she felt the compliment of being the recipient of high regard from such a man, which she had ungraciously thrown back in his face—and then attacked him. No matter the errors he had made, he had not deserved such hostility.
Their guests departed after tea, but not without Georgiana gathering her courage to invite Elizabeth to spend an afternoon at Netherfield with her the following week.
Elizabeth felt it safe enough to accept the invitation. Darcy was in London, so it would not appear as if she were throwing herself in his path.
Darcy presented his card to the butler at Bingley’s home in Grosvenor Square.
“My master is not accepting callers, sir.”
“Tell him I have come with news from Hertfordshire and see if he changes his mind,” Darcy instructed, certain that would grant him entrance.
The butler bowed and hurried off. Darcy tapped his walking stick against the rail impatiently. If Bingley did not admit him into his house today, he did not know what he would do. To his relief, the butler returned shortly.
When Darcy was admitted to the study, he was dismayed at the state Bingley was in. It was all too familiar, although significantly worse as Bingley had been heartbroken longer.
Bingley was gaunt and had lost weight—a difficult task for a vampire. His clothing was rumpled and there were stark dark circles beneath his eyes. The room stank of alcohol, but Darcy could not detect the scent of blood, which meant that Bingley had likely been starving himself.
“Darcy, when did you get here?” Bingley asked.
“Just now. Bingley, why are you doing this to yourself? You look dreadful.”
Bingley laughed bitterly. “It hardly matters. Jane Bennet does not love me. My immortal life is empty. If not for my responsibilities to my sister, I would have gone to France.”
Darcy’s guilt sharply increased. If not for his interference, Bingley and Jane would be happily engaged. By trying to protect his friend, he had caused him the worst imaginable pain. Elizabeth’s criticisms rang true. He had to make this right.
But first, Bingley had to eat. Darcy ordered the butler to bring a bottle of Blood Wine. The Dictates only allowed Hunting at night. Darcy poured a glass and placed it in front of Bingley. “Drink,” he said.
“No,” Bingley mumbled.
“You must. You do not want her to see you like this, do you?”
“Caroline? I do not care what she thinks. She has no sympathy for my situation and keeps crowing about my miraculous escape.”
“I was not referring to Caroline. It would kill Miss Bennet to see the state you are in.”
Bingley laughed again. “You said it yourself. She does not love me. She would not care.”
“I was wrong,” Darcy said. “I have seen Miss Bennet on several occasions since your departure and I have since learned she loves you as much as you love her. If you return to Hertfordshire and make an offer, I have no doubt it will be happily accepted.” Bingley was in a far better position to secure the lady he loved than Darcy himself was, and he could not help but feel envious.
Bingley looked up at him, incredulous. “She loves me?”
“Yes; and you must return to her. But first you need to clean yourself up.”
“And you do not object to the match?”
“No,” Darcy said. “If you truly love each other, nothing else matters—least of all society’s ridiculous expectations.”
A genuine smile crossed Bingley’s face, and Darcy suspected it was the first time he had smiled since arriving in London.
“You will return with me?”
“Of course.”
Bingley excused himself to bathe and dress. Darcy left the study to await Bingley in the parlor.
Caroline Bingley appeared a few moments later, having learned of Darcy’s arrival.
“Mr. Darcy, I am so thrilled to see you again. It had been dreadful without you. Charles barely leaves his study, and when he does he speaks only of that dreadful Jane.”
Darcy was affronted by Caroline’s assumption that she had an ally in him when it came to Jane and Bingley. He may have voiced his concerns, but he was not out to prevent Bingley’s happiness, as Caroline seemed to be.
“I do not think it wise to speak ill of any of the Bennets in front of me, or your brother.”
Caroline laughed. “Why, Mr. Darcy, you despise them as much as I do, unless you have been seduced by Miss Elizabeth’s fine eyes. But you are not weak-willed like my brother.”
“Tread carefully, Miss Bingley,” Darcy said coldly.
His severe look silenced her, and her suspicions were confirmed. She recognized the defensiveness of a man in love.
They sat in silence the next half hour, Darcy unwilling to speak with the bitter female beside him, and unwilling to hear any criticism against the Bennets; and Caroline quite dismayed she had lost Darcy to a country nobody—so much so that she had nothing to say.
When Bingley reappeared he was practically glowing.
“Caroline, you will never believe the joyous news Darcy has brought from Hertfordshire. Jane Bennet loves me. Darcy and I shall return to Netherfield. I will offer for her tomorrow.”
“Charles, you cannot! If you marry a country nobody, our family reputation will be ruined. All of Father’s work will be for naught. No one in the ton will take you seriously.”
“To hell with the ton. As for Father, I believe he would be proud. I will begin a clan with Jane Bennet that is rooted in love and prosperity. Nothing could be better than that. Since you cannot be civil and respectful to Jane, I have no wish for you to join us at Netherfield. You may go stay with Louisa.”
“If you do this, Louisa and I will never speak to you again,” Caroline shouted, desperately trying to get through to her lovesick fool of a brother.
“I hope that is not true, Caroline, but I will not give up Jane. She is the love of my life, and an eternity without her would be pointless. I will have Mrs. Edwards pack your trunk and send you to the Hursts. I hope you change your mind, but I will not change mine.”
Caroline stormed out of the room.
“Well done. No one has the right to rob you of happiness. I regret I persuaded you to leave in the first place. I am exceedingly sorry.”
“You could not have known you were wrong about Jane’s feelings, Darcy. I do not blame you. You were only trying to protect me. What matters is that you came to me with the truth once you discovered it. You are a true friend.”
Darcy did not necessarily feel that statement was accurate, but at least Bingley had forgiven him.
If only Elizabeth could do the same.
***
Bingley was decidedly nervous upon returning to Hertfordshire. Despite Darcy’s reassurance that his proposal would be well-received, he could not help but worry that Jane’s heartbreak had turned to resentment in his absence. Although such an occurrence did not seem within Jane’s character, it would be a natural response. If that were the case, he would have no one to blame but himself. Darcy had only advised him to leave—the decision to go had been his own.
Darcy agreed to accompany him to Longbourn in a show of support.
They stood in front of the door for several minutes while Bingley gathered his courage to ring the bell.
The housekeeper opened the door and led them to the sitting room without bothering to take their cards. “Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy,” she announced, beaming at the family she served.
Mrs. Bennet received one of her guests warmly.
“Mr. Bingley, we did not expect to see you today. Why, we did not even know you had returned to the neighborhood. You are most welcome, sir.”
Mr. Bingley bowed and thanked his hostess, but then sought out Jane, whose gaze was averted. Her cheeks were flushed though, which he took as a reassuring sign.
“I was hoping, Mrs. Bennet, to secure a private audience with Miss Bennet.”
“Oh, yes, of course, you may use this room. Come, girls. Let us give them some privacy.”
Elizabeth offered to show Darcy the gardens while Bingley enjoyed the privilege of finally being alone with Jane.
***
Elizabeth had certainly not expected to see either of the gentlemen today, but she rejoiced in Darcy’s success and was confident that within a few moments Jane and Bingley’s future happiness would be secured.
She took Darcy’s proffered arm and they began a turn around the garden at a sedate pace. For a few moments neither spoke, but Elizabeth was the more courageous and finally asked, “When did you return from London?”
“Last night. Bingley would have called sooner if we had not arrived past acceptable visiting hours,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth was gratified by the claim. It meant Bingley truly loved her sister.
“It must have been difficult, Mr. Darcy, owning up to your mistake. I have experienced a similar sensation, although to a lesser extent.”
Darcy stopped and turned to face her, taking both her hands in his.
“It was the right thing to do. I should have never interfered.”
Elizabeth smiled. “All that matters is that you mended what you broke. That is all anyone can be expected to do after making a mistake.”
“Did you mean what you said about your own experience?” Darcy asked.
“I did. Although I do not regret refusing your proposal, I do regret the way I did so. I failed to see your feelings for me, just as you failed to recognize what Jane felt for Bingley. I fear I allowed my prejudice to blind me to your virtues. I am truly sorry. I would like to begin anew.”
Darcy smiled and she was struck by how handsome it made him. It warmed her heart to know that the smile was for her.
“I am honored, Miss Elizabeth. Let me first assure you there is nothing to forgive. Your accusations were justified.” When Elizabeth made no reply, he pressed on. “In truth, Miss Elizabeth, though I would have liked to spare you the embarrassment you must have felt, I feel events unfolded as they were meant to. It would have been hollow to have you accept my hand without true affection. I only hope I might one day have the privilege of earning your love.”
Elizabeth flushed. Darcy could have returned boasting of his success and expecting her acceptance of his hand in return. Instead, he was earnest, repentant, and sweet. If he continued to show this side of himself, it would be quite easy to fall in love with him.
When Darcy and Elizabeth returned to the house, Jane was glowing with joy and Bingley had a ridiculous grin on his face.
Darcy congratulated Bingley in earnest and offered his best wishes to Jane.
Bingley was thrilled to greet Elizabeth as his future sister-in-law.
Jane declared she was the happiest creature ever to walk the earth.
Both gentlemen were invited to dine, and the remainder of the afternoon and the dinner following were spent in joyous revelry.
Mrs. Bennet did not allow Bingley to leave without ensuring his promise to join them for dinner the following evening.
The elder Bennet ladies walked the gentlemen to their carriage. Elizabeth and Darcy were more than happy to turn their backs so that the newly exchanged couple could share a private adieu.
“Thank you again, sir,” Elizabeth said. “My sister’s happiness means the world to me.”
“I merely told the truth,” Darcy said. “Bingley and Miss Bennet did the rest.”
“No,” Elizabeth said, taking his hand in hers, “it is more than that, and I am grateful.”
Darcy smiled and drew her hand to his mouth. He pressed a kiss into her palm, his lips lingering longer than strictly necessary, and was rewarded with a bright smile from Elizabeth and blooming roses on her cheeks. To know he had the power to elicit such a response in her gave him hope where he previously had none.
***
The following evening, Bingley joined the Bennets for dinner and Darcy remained at Netherfield, feeling he had been neglecting his sister and cousin. The evening was enjoyable, although a small part of him was jealous that Bingley was in the company of Elizabeth when he was not.
“William, are you going to propose to Miss Elizabeth again?” Georgiana asked, as they sat in the music room. Georgiana was flipping through sheet music so she could entertain her guardians.
Darcy glanced at Colonel Fitzwilliam, who held out his hands in a gesture of surrender.
“I will admit to confirming her suspicions, but Georgiana figured it out all on her own.”
Darcy did not quite believe that, but refrained from saying so.
“One day I will. For now, I consider myself to be courting her. Would it please you to have Miss Elizabeth as a sister?”
“Oh, yes! Very much. She is delightful. I think Mother will love her as well.”
Darcy hoped that would be the case. He was certain his father would be against the marriage—he had always insisted his son marry Anne de Bourgh. His mother, however, had always professed a desire for his happiness in marriage. He hoped she would support his choice. He would need an ally to convince his father. Of course, Darcy loved Elizabeth so much that his father’s disapproval would not change his decision to make her his Eternal Partner, should he be fortunate enough to earn her acceptance.
Bingley returned shortly after nine o’clock, bursting with enthusiasm.
“I have splendid news. I have decided to throw a Yule Ball on Christmas Day and my dear Jane and I will go through the Rites in January. Everyone in the neighborhood will be invited. My future wife adores Christmas, and I can think of nothing that would make it more special than holding a ball in her honor.
“An excellent idea!” A smile broke over the colonel’s face. “It has been ages since I have attended a ball.”
Georgiana was not yet out—her entrance into society had been delayed indefinitely—so she was not as thrilled about the ball as the others. Her cousin and Darcy could see she was holding back.
“Georgiana, dear, I do not see why you cannot attend. You are a guest in this house and, even though you are not out, you will be well chaperoned. It will be quite proper.”
Georgiana’s eyes lit up. “I can attend?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed.
Georgiana hugged her brother and cousin in turn.
“I cannot wait. It will be such fun!”
The invitations to the Yule Ball were delivered promptly, and within a few days the entire neighborhood was excited. It was all that was spoken of in parlors and drawing rooms.
Mrs. Bennet visited everyone she knew to announce her daughter’s engagement. It was the grandest triumph of her life, and she was intent on her daughter being the belle of the Yule Ball. In preparation, she and Jane took a sojourn to Town so Jane could have a new gown made. Mr. Bingley insisted on paying, taking delight in providing for the lady he loved. Much to Mrs. Bennet’s surprise, he also paid for new gowns for the rest of the Bennet sisters, declaring the ball to be a momentous occasion for the entire family, and as such, it was his obligation to ensure that the honorees were attired in the latest style.
Georgiana went to Mr. Bingley in secret and suggested what kind of dress should be made for Elizabeth, as a gift to her brother. When she told her cousin of it, he congratulated her on her forethought.
“Georgiana, my dear, would you care to accompany me to the village? You had mentioned needing new gloves, and your brother asked me to procure a special item he had sent from Darcy House. I believe it is intended for Miss Elizabeth.”
“I would love to,” Georgiana said, clasping her hands together
The two cousins enjoyed a pleasant drive to the village. Georgiana selected new gloves, and Richard obtained the package from the post office.
“What do you think it is?” Georgiana asked, eyeing the velvet box.
“Your brother would never know if we looked.”
Georgiana laughed and opened the box to see a delicate diamond and ruby necklace set in gold.
“I have seen this before. It belonged to Mother! She gave it to him after he was Turned, so that he could present it to his future bride one day. Oh, this is perfect.”
“Now remember, dear, you must not tell your brother we looked in the box. He wants it to be a surprise for Miss Elizabeth. With good fortune, it will be an engagement gift.”
“Georgiana Darcy, as I live and breathe …”
Georgiana’s blood ran cold. She never thought she would hear that wicked voice again.
“We all know you do not breathe,” the colonel said, moving to protect Georgiana as Wickham approached. “And you will not even exist much longer if you come any closer.”
Wickham stopped his approach, but turned his lecherous gaze to Georgiana once more.
“I so look forward to sharing a dance with you at the Yule Ball.”
“That will never happen,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “You were not invited, nor will you ever be.”
“Oh, I have plans for the Yule Ball. One way or another it will be an unforgettable evening.” He sped away and the colonel spat in his direction.
“Georgiana, I swear to you, I will not allow him near you.”
“Richard, I trust you. I just did not expect to see him. I had hoped to never see him again.”
“You will not,” her cousin vowed. “Let us return to Netherfield. He is not welcome there and you will be quite safe.”
***
Once the colonel told Darcy about spotting Wickham in Meryton, Georgiana was ordered not to leave the house. She was resigned to being housebound until after the Yule Ball, which was a week away. It was for the best. She hated that George Wickham was still capable of influencing their lives.
She sent a note to Elizabeth, begging her to come visit as soon as possible. She would get to spend a lovely afternoon with the lady she hoped would one day be her sister, and she could arrange for William and Elizabeth to be left alone for a short spell.
Elizabeth arrived within the hour. Having read Georgiana’s letter and learning the reason behind her new restriction, she wanted to be there in case Georgiana wished to discuss it. She could only imagine how terrible it had been for Georgiana to see Wickham again after all that had happened. The fact that he had the gall to return to Hertfordshire was infuriating. She wondered how he had learned of Georgiana’s presence in the neighborhood.
Georgiana herself greeted Elizabeth at the door and then led her into the music room, which was Georgiana’s favored retreat.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice, Miss Elizabeth. I cannot blame William and Richard for worrying, but it is stifling being confined indoors. Mr. Bingley is out of the house much of the time preparing for the ball, and it is difficult to be around my brother or cousin without feeling I have let them down.”
Elizabeth sat on the chaise beside Georgiana.
“I am sure they are not thinking that way, Georgiana. You went through a terrible ordeal with Wickham, but you are not at fault.”
Georgiana glanced up at her. “You know?”
Elizabeth nodded and then shared the story of her own encounter with Wickham and the circumstances leading up to Darcy revealing his history with the wretched man.
“You see, your brother only told me the truth because he believed me to be in danger, just as you once were. He would not have divulged such a private affair without good reason.”
“It is good he told you. He has not been able to speak of it since it happened, nor have I.”
“Would you like to speak of it now?” Elizabeth asked.
Georgiana nodded and proceeded to unfold the tragic tale from her perspective. By the end of it, both ladies had tears in their eyes, and Elizabeth had wrapped her arms around the younger lady.
“I am so sorry, Miss Darcy, for all you have suffered.”
Georgiana looked up at her. “Please, there is no need for such formality when I have told you my darkest secret. I only wish I had not been so foolish. William was devastated, perhaps even more than I.”
“I doubt that. To have one’s first love result in betrayal is an incomparable experience. I do not doubt your brother’s devastation, but please do not fool yourself into believing you were the one hurt least by this ordeal. You were only fifteen, and you believed your love was true. No one can blame you for the machinations of that evil man.”
Georgiana knew in her heart of hearts that Elizabeth was right, but she still had difficulty truly believing it.
“He wanted to Turn me,” Georgiana said, “and I almost allowed it. If I had, I would have been lost forever.”
Elizabeth clasped the younger girl’s hands. “Think no more of it, Georgiana. I am proud of you for sharing the burden. It is not healthy to bear such pain on one’s own.”
And that is how Darcy found them when he entered the music room.
Georgiana looked up with damp and reddened eyes.
“What is the matter?” he cried, truly alarmed. He rushed to his sister’s side.
“Nothing,” Georgiana said. “In truth, I feel much better now that I shared my history about Wickham with Elizabeth. If you will excuse me, I will go refresh myself.”
Elizabeth rose and touched Darcy’s arm.
He turned and apologized for his outburst.
“I hope you are not angry with me for speaking of it. I did not come here today with any intention of causing either of you any grief.”
“I am not angry. I simply did not expect to walk in on such a tableau. My poor sister has been unable to speak of her time with Wickham since the incident. It is remarkable she chose to confide in anyone, but I am grateful she chose you. Thank you.” He took her hand in his for the briefest moment.
Elizabeth smiled. It seemed she was destined to become a confidante for the members of the Darcy family and, oddly enough, it was an occupation she did not protest. She felt the compliment of the trust that two such reserved individuals placed in her.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke a word and, for the first time, the silence between them was comfortable. Elizabeth broke it at length, asking Darcy if he was assisting Bingley with preparations for the Yule Ball.
“Fortunately, no. As I understand it, your mother has been his primary assistant. He compared her to a general commanding his troops.”
Elizabeth laughed. “That is an appropriate comparison. I am glad you have been spared the display.”
“Since I am ill qualified at planning an event, it is for the best,” Darcy said.
He seemed tired, and Elizabeth had a notion why.
“You must not worry about Wickham getting to Georgiana. I know it is difficult, but she is safe at Netherfield; and more importantly, she is safe with you.”
It touched him to hear those words from Elizabeth, but he did not necessarily believe them.
“I failed to protect her before. If I had dealt with him the first moment I saw him in Hertfordshire, I could have protected not only my sister, but you as well.”
“And you would have ended another man’s existence,” Elizabeth said. “You are not that kind of man. You are better and more honorable than that monster in every way.”
“Do you truly believe that?”
“I do,” Elizabeth said, taking his hand in hers.
They remained that way for what seemed an eternity until Georgiana entered the room again. Darcy reluctantly released her and stepped away. Georgiana seemed oddly satisfied with the occurrence, and Elizabeth could not help but wonder if Georgiana had purposefully taken longer than necessary to wash her face.
Georgiana suggested they entertain Darcy with a duet.
Lizzy raised her brow. “I am not sure your brother is prepared for my clumsy playing.”
“Nonsense. I am sure you play beautifully, and William would be delighted to hear you, would you not?”
Darcy indulged his younger sister. “I am sure nothing would give me greater pleasure.” Naturally, he could think of many other things Elizabeth could do that would give him greater pleasure, but as a gentleman he could not voice those, and certainly not in the presence of his sister.
“How neatly the two of you have trapped me. I shall play, but you have been warned. If Colonel Fitzwilliam comes here declaring two cats are fighting in the house, you shall know why.”
Elizabeth was far too modest about her skills at the pianoforte. Even though she had not the benefit of a London master as Georgiana had, her playing was admirable, and the mistakes she made were minor and nearly unnoticeable. Darcy was delighted to watch the two he loved most play music together. It only reinforced his notion that Elizabeth was destined to be a part of his life and clan.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered at the conclusion of the performance and joined Darcy in the applause.
The ladies stood and curtsied before moving to sit across from the gentlemen.
“I did not know you could play so well, Miss Elizabeth. I am sad to have missed most of the performance. You must play again sometime.”
“Perhaps if you ask very nicely, I will indulge you one day,” Elizabeth said.
“Did you know that Darcy plays and sings as well?”
“I did not!” Elizabeth turned to Darcy. “Is this true?”
“My cousin exaggerates. I have not played in years.”
“But you are capable?” Elizabeth asked.
“Oh, yes,” Georgiana said. “He plays quite well. One day, we will have to trap him into doing so.”
“An excellent scheme!” declared Elizabeth.
Darcy smiled indulgently. He was thrilled beyond measure that Elizabeth and Georgiana were bonding, before long, he suspected Elizabeth would teach Georgiana to tease him as mercilessly as she did.
Elizabeth remained through the afternoon but turned down a dinner invitation, insisting she was needed at home—the dresses for the Yule Ball were being altered that evening.
Darcy offered to escort her to the carriage, and the colonel and Georgiana were happy to remain in the music room and allow the couple time alone.
Before he handed her into the carriage Darcy said, “Miss Elizabeth, may I request the honor of dancing the first set with you?”
“It would be my pleasure, sir,” Elizabeth said.
He offered his hand and she stepped into the carriage, where a maid from Longbourn awaited her. She waved at him from the carriage once it reached the gate.
A small gesture that meant so much.
***
The next morning after breakfast Elizabeth called to her sister. “Jane, come here. I just received a letter from Charlotte. She just completed the Rites.”
Jane, who was a month away from going through the Rites herself, took the proffered letter. There were few ladies in the neighborhood who could give insight about the process of becoming a vampire, and Jane was eager to hear an account.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth could not help but think one day she might go through the Rites with Darcy by her side. A week ago, she was categorically against the idea, but with each passing day her heart betrayed her a little more—she began to surrender to her feelings for the enigmatic Firstborn Son.
“Charlotte is so brave,” Jane said as she finished reading the letter. “It sounds as if there is not much to fear, and only a little pain. Though digging out of my own grave does not seem enjoyable. But anything is worth it to spend an eternity with Charles.”
Elizabeth gave her sister a teasing expression. “Jane, if it will not shock you, I will tell you something I have heard from Lydia. Granted, she could be exaggerating, but it is worth mentioning.”
Jane, in fact, had refrained from asking Lydia about her change, for Lydia was far too vulgar for her taste.
“What is it?”
“I have heard the bite can be quite pleasurable, if you can believe it.”
Jane flushed deeply. “I suppose I will find out soon enough. I wish I could visit Charlotte with you next month, but I fear I will be rather indisposed.”
“You will be just fine, Jane. Mr. Bingley loves you—he will ensure the transition is as smooth as possible.”
***
Darcy eyed the letter on the desk as if it were an explosive. It was his father’s handwriting, and this time his father had included a threat on the front. It read:
Fitzwilliam, you have avoided my letters long enough. In fact, I doubt you have read any of them. If you do not comply with the instructions in this letter, I will hunt you down and you will spend the rest of your existence locked away in the Pemberley cellars.
Darcy knew further avoidance was futile.
I will no longer allow you to put off your responsibilities. You will return to Pemberley the first week of January with Richard and Georgiana. You will marry Anne—unless by some miracle you have secured the hand of an equally eligible young lady. Upon completing the Eternal Rite, you will continue the family line and begin to manage the estate. I do not care if you still hate me—you are my son and heir and you will obey me.
Darcy was certain his father meant what he said. Darcy had avoided his father’s summons for the last three years, but he was running out of time and excuses. If he did not convince Elizabeth to accept his hand before the new year began, he would face the possibility of losing her.
Elizabeth had never felt so beautiful in her life. The gown her mother selected for her was a deep shade of scarlet, detailed with glistening ebony thread. It displayed her décolletage to full advantage and showed off her svelte figure. She could only imagine Darcy would approve, and that thought brought heat to her entire face.
If Elizabeth looked beautiful, Jane looked resplendent. The dress designed for her was worthy of Princess Charlotte herself. It was a deep shade of green brocade trimmed with pristine white and gold lace. Mr. Bingley had given her diamond and emerald hairpins as an engagement gift.
Mrs. Bennet fluttered around her eldest daughter.
“Oh, Jane, you look like an angel! You will be the most beautiful young lady at the ball, just as you should be. You have the most generous fiancé in the world—buying gowns for all your sisters! Every gentleman in attendance will focus his attention on one of my daughters; even that dreadfully high-handed Mr. Darcy.” Mrs. Bennet had no idea how correct her assumption would be.
The ride to Longbourn was passed in excited chatter. Elizabeth felt rather apprehensive. Darcy and Bingley had called daily at Longbourn over the past week, but only for short visits—Bingley had been busy with preparations for the ball. Elizabeth had barely a moment alone with Darcy since the day she visited at Netherfield. In truth, she missed him, and was eager to see him. Yet she was frightened that somehow he would lose interest in her. It was a strange feeling, and she did not fancy it at all.
The Bennets were the first guests to arrive. They alit from the carriage, and Jane took her place beside Bingley to greet the guests.
The rest of the Bennets dispersed themselves. Elizabeth searched the ballroom for Darcy. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. The way he looked at her set all her irrational fears to rest. He approached her, gazing at her as if he wanted to devour her. It should have frightened her, but it only made her feel desired. He bowed over her hand and kissed it.
“Elizabeth,” he said in a way that made her name feel like a caress. His disregard for propriety did not bother her in the slightest. “You look beautiful, and I cannot wait to spend the evening with you.”
Elizabeth felt the color rise in her cheeks, and she moved closer to him.
In a low voice she said, “Forgive me for making such bold declarations, but I do hope one of our dances will be a waltz.”
Darcy’s smile pierced her very soul. He led her to the edge of the ballroom, and they sat together while more guests arrived.
***
Jane and Bingley opened the ball, after which several couples made their way to the dance floor. Many in attendance were surprised to see Darcy stand up with Elizabeth—and smiling no less.
Darcy was oblivious to the attention his choice of partner had garnered. He had never concerned himself with the opinions of the people in the neighborhood. He no longer cared about singling Elizabeth out, for there was little doubt in his mind that Elizabeth was his future wife. He could hear the pounding of her heart and smell her desire for him rolling off her in waves. It was a new experience, but it thrilled him to his very core. The music was cheery and brisk, and Elizabeth laughed as she danced. He felt a jolt of sensation every time she touched him, and received a thrill whenever her delighted gaze met his.
The first dance ended, and the second began. He and Bingley had selected a waltz for the second, much to the delight of both couples. Elizabeth—when she recognized the rhythm—favored him with a small smile. As he pulled her into his arms, the scent of lavender overwhelmed him.
“You look pleased with yourself, sir,” Elizabeth said tartly.
“I am pleased with you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”
His voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she clung to him, pressing herself against him more than propriety allowed. The riot of sensation was thrilling and new to her. No man had made her feel this way before. The room seemed to fade as Darcy spun her about the dance floor until they became the only two people in the world. The spell broke when the music ended and they had to part. It was difficult for Elizabeth not to feel bereft.
Lydia’s voice could be heard from a considerable distance. “Good lord, look at that despicable man dancing with my sister. Is it not the most diverting sight? At least Jane had the good sense to fall for someone with connections!”
Elizabeth sent Darcy an embarrassed look before she made a hasty retreat.
Darcy would have gone after her, but he was intercepted by Sir William Lucas.
“Darcy, old boy, I understand you are the nephew of my daughter’s husband’s patroness, Lady Catherine de Bourgh. And your uncle is the Earl of Matlock! Why, none of us knew you had such considerable connections.”
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh? An earl?” cried Mrs. Bennet, who had heard Sir William’s voice from several paces away. “Good lord, he danced with my daughter. Oh, what a happy day!” Mrs. Bennet, now momentarily distracted from Jane and Bingley, went to share this news with her friends—her least favorite daughter had danced with a well-connected second son.
Darcy pushed past Sir William, not bothering to answer him, but the distraction had lasted long enough for him to lose sight of Elizabeth.
***
Georgiana Darcy was thrilled her brother and cousin had allowed her to attend the ball. She was not used to spending time amongst people her own age. She danced with Mr. Bingley and her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. She was grateful to be in the country where people did not expect so much of her, and where reputation and status did not mean everything.
She took a break from the dancing and found Mary Bennet sitting in the corner. She had grown quite fond of Mary in their short acquaintance—she had called on the Bennets, under the protection of her brother, three times the past week.
Mary smiled at her. “Hello, Georgiana. Are you enjoying yourself?”
“Oh, yes. It is such fun. Have you danced yet?”
“I do not care for dancing, but I did dance one set with Mr. Bingley. He was determined to dance with each of us, to please Jane.”
It was just the sort of thing Mr. Bingley would do. Georgiana had always admired him but she was glad he had found his true match. Caroline Bingley had talked these past two years about how happy she would be if Bingley and Georgiana married, so they could be sisters. She had devised the scheme after realizing she might never be married to William.
Georgiana sat down. “Mary, do you know why Mr. Bingley’s sisters are not here?”
“They do not approve of Jane, so they declined the invitation,” Mary said. “I do not believe they will attend the wedding either. I could not imagine missing a wedding simply because I did not favor my sibling’s choice of partner. Truthfully, they were not well-liked in the neighborhood. They were considered too proud.”
“And my brother, what do people think of him?”
Mary did not seem keen on answering.
“It is fine, Mary. My brother has never done well in society. He is not very pleasant around strangers and he usually abhors balls. I believe your sister’s company this evening is the only reason for his current enjoyment.”
Mary smiled. She was not normally inclined to gossip, but could not help speaking what was on her mind.
“Tell me, Georgiana, do you think your brother might offer for my sister?”
Georgiana nodded. “I would be pleased to have so many sisters. Mary, you would love the music room at Pemberley. I hope I may show it to you someday soon.”
***
When dinner was served, Darcy saw Elizabeth again, but she took care to sit as far from him as the table would allow. Her mother had no doubt embarrassed Elizabeth, but surely, she did not think that Mrs. Bennet’s behavior threatened his own attachment to her. He was dismayed by her sudden desire to avoid him. Perhaps she was beginning to regret giving him a second chance? The thought was painful.
Afterwards, some of the young ladies took their turn at entertaining the crowd. Mary Bennet, who had been practicing faithfully, played a reel. The piece was butchered by her clumsy playing, and the guests began to laugh behind their hands.
Mr. Bennet, who was already well in his cups, crossed over to the instrument and rapped his hand on the mahogany.
“My dear, I believe you have delighted us long enough. Allow the other young ladies time to exhibit.”
Mary flushed and ran from the instrument.
Georgiana, who had observed the entire scene, went to comfort her new friend.
Elizabeth was mortified by the impropriety displayed by her relations, and Mr. Darcy’s words from the night he proposed echoed loudly in her head. If nothing else, tonight would prove she was not worth his effort. The thought pained her more than she could say. It also caused her to realize the depth of her feelings for him. If he pulled away now, she was not sure she could bear it. She slipped out of the ballroom and ran to hide in the garden, too embarrassed by the behavior of her family to remain in company.
***
Lydia felt a strange pull. She followed the sensation to the front entry of Netherfield Before ducking out of the house, she checked to see if anyone was watching. Her departure went unnoticed.
She followed the pull to a shaded area near the front door where her Sire waited.
“Lydia, my love, it is good to see you.”
Lydia flew into his arms. “George, it really is you! But what are you doing here? That awful Mr. Darcy prevented Mr. Bingley from inviting you. Why have you not come to see me before now?”
“I have been very busy, my dear. I hope you will forgive me.” He drew a cheap necklace from his pocket and presented it to her.
Lydia squealed with delight and allowed Wickham to place it around her neck.
“I wish you could come in. It is dull without you.”
Wickham favored Lydia with a wicked smile. “It is about to become far more interesting. I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything,” Lydia vowed.
“First, you must invite me in, and then …” Wickham leaned in and whispered instructions in his Childe’s ear.
“Oh, George, are you quite sure?”
“Yes. You must do it, or I fear our eternal lives together will be cut short.” He kissed her deeply and then slipped something into her hand as they separated.
“I will do it, my love, for you. Now, do come inside.”
***
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana were dancing a lively reel when he spotted Wickham in the crush of guests. Darcy was standing in the corner scanning the room—presumably for Elizabeth, whom he had not seen for half an hour. The colonel pulled Georgiana out of the line and took her to Darcy.
“Richard, what is the matter?” Georgiana asked. She had been having such a pleasant evening, but judging by the set of her cousin’s jaw that was about to come to an end.
“Wickham is here,” he said.
Georgiana paled, and Darcy immediately steeled himself for an unpleasant confrontation.
Colonel Fitzwilliam said, “I will take Georgiana upstairs and stay with her the rest of the evening. You must find Elizabeth. I worry about the threat Wickham made in Meryton.” The colonel then pressed a stake into Darcy’s hand. “Only use this if you must. Unless you can prove he was an immediate threat, slaying a fellow Firstborn Son is against the Dictates.”
Darcy nodded. “I am trusting you to watch over Georgiana. Take care.”
“And you do the same,” his cousin said as he hurried Georgiana towards the stairs.
Darcy went to Bingley and warned him of the unwanted guest.
Bingley was at a loss as to what to do; after being briefly spotted, Wickham seemed to have disappeared into the crowd.
His absence only concerned Darcy further. If anything happened to Elizabeth or Georgiana at the hands of Wickham, he would never forgive himself. He tucked the stake into his jacket pocket and continued his search.
Elizabeth wiped her tears away with her handkerchief. It was silly to jump to conclusions and assume the worst of the man she cared for. However, she was unable to banish the notion that the behavior of certain members of her family would have a serious impact on his regard for her.
She knew she should find Darcy, but she could not bring herself to face him. Not yet.
The silence of the garden was breached by footsteps behind her. Had Darcy been looking for her? She turned. The smile on her face vanished when she saw George Wickham.
“How is it possible you are here?” Elizabeth said. “You were Disinvited from this house.”
Wickham smile made Elizabeth’s skin crawl.
“Darcy may have not wanted me here, but my friends in the regiment and some of the ladies felt differently. You used to feel differently about me, as I recall.” He drew closer, like the true predator he was.
Elizabeth knew she should run.
“I know the truth about you,” she said, feigning more confidence than she felt. “Your Thrall will not work.”
“I did not come here to Enthrall you. I only want to speak with you.”
He was lying. She could sense it. Still, it was best to keep him talking in hopes of someone coming to her aid.
“Speak, if you must.”
“Sit with me,” Wickham said, gesturing to the bench. “What I have to tell you is disturbing. You may be unable to handle it.”
Elizabeth complied, all the while doubting Wickham could say anything that would shock her. She knew the kind of monster he was.
“I hear you have become very close with Darcy; almost as if you have entered a courtship with him.”
“That is no business of yours,” Elizabeth snapped.
“I suppose not, only I know what he is capable of. You believe me to be a monster who Enthralled you to further my own agenda.”
“Because that is the truth,” Elizabeth spat.
“It is,” Wickham acknowledged. “But what you do not realize is Darcy is no better than I. Tell me, have you felt drawn to him and desired to be around him, despite the dislike you once harbored for him?”
Elizabeth said nothing. She did not know Wickham’s purpose in saying such things, but she was determined not to fall into his trap.
“No need to answer, Miss Elizabeth. I already know the truth. You despise me for misusing my abilities, and yet Darcy does the same and you do nothing. You have been under his Thrall since he returned to Hertfordshire.”
“No. Mr. Darcy does not have the ability to Enthrall people—and if he did, he would never use it against anyone.”
Wickham laughed. “You naïve little fool. That is the only reason you would fall in love with him. He is incapable of love and incapable of being loved, yet for some reason he chose you—a little country nobody with embarrassing relations. Is that not strange? Why would a man of his pride and wealth ever be interested in you?”
No. It could not be true. Wickham was trying to mislead her.
“You are wondering how I could know such things, I imagine,” Wickham said. “I simply know because Darcy and I were raised by the same man. I know how Darcy thinks. I know how he behaves. I am only telling you these things as a friend.”
Elizabeth struck him, willing to do anything to silence him.
“Get away from me,” she shouted, hoping to attract some attention.
Wickham rose from the bench, hands spread in a sign of surrender.
“Remember—I tried to warn you,” he said. He turned to retreat from the garden.
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself, trying to contain her feelings. She needed to speak with Darcy. He would reassure her. Then he would deal with Wickham once and for all. She rose to return to the house.
Wickham stood in the doorway, framed by the double glass doors that led back into the hall. Too late, Elizabeth noticed the pistols in his hands. It happened before she could dive out of the way. Two bullets struck her in quick succession. She had never felt such agony. She collapsed to the ground, blood seeping from the wounds in her chest. Her eyes went heavenward— this was the end.
Before her eyes closed, she saw fire coming from the guest wing of the house.
***
Lydia Bennet held another lit match to the curtains in the main hall of the guest wing. They ignited in bright flames that soon incinerated the carpet and wallpaper. She dropped a few more lit matches and bolted down the stairs. Her Sire was a brilliant man. Burning down Netherfield would ensure the demise of her lover’s enemies. Then they would be free to run away together. Her beloved had neglected to tell her how he would ensure their comfort, but it did not matter to her. All she desired was to live with a handsome husband. If this was the way to do it, then she would happily burn down every estate in Hertfordshire.
***
“Richard, what is that smell?” Georgiana asked.
Her cousin opened the door to investigate, only to be met by spreading flames and curling smoke. He seized Georgiana’s hand.
“We have to get out, now!”
The two ran from the guest wing as the flames spread. Soon fire would envelope most the house and panic would ensue.
As he reached the ballroom, the colonel shouted, “Get out! Fire! Get out now!”
At first, many thought it was some sort of joke, until the scent of acrid smoke filled the air.
People panicked, some heading for the front doors, and others to the open patio.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana wove their way through the crowd. Bingley could be heard attempting to maintain some semblance of order. He urged Jane and her sisters to follow the colonel.
“Charles, I do not know where Lizzy is,” Jane cried. “Swear to me you will find her, and keep her safe.”
“I will, my love. Now take the rest of your family and get out. I will see you soon, I give you my word.”
Bingley cut through the crowd and nearly collided with an equally frantic Darcy.
“Darcy, you must find Elizabeth.”
“I will find her. Get the others to safety.”
***
Darcy prayed his Primal Link to Elizabeth would allow him to find her. It was difficult to focus with the chaos, but within a minute he felt the call of Elizabeth’s blood. The rich scent of it permeated his senses and he knew where to find her. He sped towards the garden.
“You are too late, Darcy,” said a voice from behind him.
Darcy turned. “Wickham, what have you done?”
“Committed my act of vengeance. Goodbye, Darcy.” Then he vanished.
For the first time in his life, Darcy was not tempted to pursue the bastard. Elizabeth needed him.
When he saw her prone form his worst fears were realized. He rushed to her side. Two bullet holes oozed blood but he pressed his head to her chest. Her heartbeat was nearly gone, but she was still alive. He thanked every higher power he could think of. He had to act quickly. It went against his sense of honor and the Dictates to turn Elizabeth without her consent, but if he did not act now, he would lose her forever.
He removed a small knife from his coat pocket and sliced open his palm. He squeezed his lifeblood into Elizabeth’s open mouth. His fangs emerged and he lowered his head. The heady scent of her blood was like a drug. He placed his mouth on her neck and bit down, drinking deep. A euphoria he had never felt encompassed his being. He drew back and used his knife to extract the bullets from her wounds. He picked up her near-lifeless body and secured a small shovel from the garden. He could not bury her here—Netherfield was likely to crumble in fiery ruin.
He ran from Netherfield as fast as he could. His instincts took him to the field where he had proposed, halfway between Netherfield and Longbourn. It was as good a place as any.
He worked quickly, desperate to save his beloved. The grave was shallow and messy but it would do. He placed Elizabeth into the hole and kissed her forehead. “Please, my love, come back to me.”
Once the unsavory task of burying Elizabeth was finished, Darcy remained by the grave. He hoped he had Turned her in time. If she survived, he could deal with the ramifications of his actions. He removed the ruby necklace from his pocket. He had planned on presenting it to her as an engagement gift, but now it would serve as a headstone. He placed the delicate necklace on the damp earth and sat gazing into the darkness. He held his solitary vigil through the night.
“Charles, where is Lizzy?” Jane cried, when Bingley finally emerged from his burning manor, the last one out. He was surprised to hear such a question. “Darcy swore he would save her.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been standing with the Bennets and Georgiana, joined the couple.
“I have not seen Darcy. To my knowledge, he never left the house.”
Jane nearly collapsed, and was only saved by Bingley pulling her into an embrace. She sobbed openly and clung to her fiancé. Bingley did his best to soothe her, but in circumstances such as these that was an impossible task.
“Jane, darling, you must have faith. I am sure Darcy was able to save your sister.”
“Then where are they?” Jane said, her voice shaking.
“We will find them.”
“No,” the colonel said. “I will find them. You will take the Bennets back to Longbourn.”
The survivors of the fire slowly made their way towards their homes. The carriages had been unscathed by the fire, but the same could not be said for everyone who had attended the Yule Ball; there were several missing people.
The colonel found Mr. Bennet.
“Sir, would you do me the honor of allowing Miss Darcy to return to Longbourn with you? I am going to search for Miss Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy.”
“Of course. We will watch over her,” Mr. Bennet said. “Please, find my daughter.”
“I swear to you I will.”
***
Colonel Fitzwilliam began his search with a different objective. He could not help feeling Wickham was behind the fire. The flames had begun in the guest wing, and that could not be a coincidence. Wickham had threatened Georgiana, and he knew Wickham had also threatened Elizabeth. The colonel was unwilling to consider that Wickham had succeeded in killing Elizabeth. He had failed with Georgiana. Until the colonel found Elizabeth’s body, he would continue to hope. He entered the regimental quarters in Meryton and demanded to speak to Colonel Forster.
“Sir, my name is Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam, and I must speak to you about one of your soldiers.”
Colonel Forster said, “Allow me to guess—Lieutenant Wickham owes you money? I never should have enlisted that scoundrel. Unfortunately, he resigned from the regiment just this morning. I have no idea where he might be.”
“If you receive word of his location, will you come find me?”
“Of course,” Colonel Forster said.
On his way out, Fitzwilliam met Denny and Carter, who informed him about Wickham.
“He is gone, you know. He killed that Bennet girl and will never return.”
The words were highly disturbing, but the colonel wondered if they might be true. He repaid their courtesy by breaking both their noses.
***
Darcy knew he should leave the grave. It would be another two nights before Elizabeth would rise, if she rose at all. Georgiana would be out of her mind with worry. However, the idea of leaving Elizabeth’s grave unprotected was well-nigh unbearable. Eventually his sense of duty to his family won. He would have to trust that no one would happen upon the grave.
Netherfield was uninhabitable so Darcy made his way to Longbourn. It would be unwise to give the Bennets false hope, in case he had not Turned Elizabeth in time. Still, he knew he owed them some explanation.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley were the only ones at Longbourn when he arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, their daughters, and Georgiana had gone to Meryton to assist in tending those wounded in the fire.
“Darcy, thank goodness you survived the fire. Where have you been?”
Darcy felt ill prepared to tell his cousin and Bingley about Elizabeth’s fate. He poured himself a glass of brandy, though Mr. Bennet’s choice in spirits left much to be desired.
“Before I tell you where I have been, I need to know where Wickham is.”
“He is gone, by all accounts. No one has seen him, and I heard from two of his associates that he is bound for the Continent.”
“I should have staked him when I had the chance,” Darcy said. “Then none of this would have happened. He must have been responsible for the fire at Netherfield, but his treachery goes beyond that.”
Bingley was surprised by the declaration but the colonel knew there was worse to come.
“Where is Elizabeth?” Bingley asked. “We all have been worried sick.”
“Wickham shot her. She was nearly dead when I found her. I had no other way to save her.”
“You Turned her,” his cousin said.
Darcy nodded. “I do not know if I Turned her in time. She had already lost a lot of blood. She is buried in a field about a mile away. It is my hope that she Awakens in two days. I do not think it would be wise to tell the Bennets until we know for certain that she does.”
“I will not lie to Jane for two days. She is out of her mind with grief and worry. I cannot bear to see her in such hopeless agony.”
“Bingley, Darcy is right. If you tell Miss Bennet that Darcy tried to turn Miss Elizabeth, and she fails to rise, then Miss Bennet’s pain will be worse. We cannot give any of the Bennets hope, only to snatch it away again.”
Bingley knew it was sound advice, but he still did not agree with it. And there was a more serious matter to discuss.
“Darcy, you must understand that if you have Turned Elizabeth, you will need to marry her and go through the Eternal Rite. Elizabeth does not have a trueborn brother to defend her honor, so the responsibility falls to me.”
The colonel and Darcy shared a smile.
Bingley was astounded at their levity.
“You need not worry about Darcy failing to do what is right,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
“What do you mean?”
“I love Elizabeth,” Darcy said. “It is my deepest regret I could not turn her as my future wife, but I could not lose her. My actions violated the Dictates, but there is no other lady for me.”
“You love Elizabeth? I had no idea. Oh, Darcy, we shall be brothers.” It was a bright spot in all the darkness.
Darcy hoped they would be, but in order for him to win Elizabeth’s heart, she would have to survive the Immortal Rite.
“Bingley, do I have your word you will not tell the Bennets? I will say I did not find her last night.”
“If the roles were reversed, could you conceal the truth from Elizabeth?” Bingley asked.
Darcy had no argument to that point and conceded.
“I will go fetch her. She will want to hear it from you.” Bingley immediately set off.
A quarter hour later, Bingley returned with Jane.
At first, when she saw Darcy, she searched the room, expecting Elizabeth to magically appear.
“Mr. Darcy, where is my sister?”
And so he told her the tragic tale. At first, Jane said nothing. Then she wept openly.
Bingley handed her his handkerchief.
“I am sure she will survive the Rite, Jane. Your sister is strong.”
Jane favored her intended with a weak smile before turning to face Darcy.
“When will we know for certain?”
“If I was successful, she will emerge from her grave in two days. I will be there to help her and, I give you my word, I will protect her.”
“You did everything you could for my sister, and I am grateful to you. I only wish we knew for certain that Mr. Wickham will never return.”
“I will never allow him to hurt your sister again, Miss Bennet,” Darcy assured her.
Jane truly believed him. In that moment, she could see how devoted he was to Elizabeth, and she knew there could be no man better suited for her sister than Mr. Darcy. She hoped they would have the chance to begin their lives together.
***
The Bennets returned several hours later. Mr. Bennet was as ragged as Darcy had ever seen him, his concern for his second daughter evident in every feature. He looked to the gentlemen.
“Has there been any sign of Elizabeth?”
Darcy stepped forward. “I was unable to find her, but we are holding out hope she may yet be found.”
Mr. Bennet was not prone to violence, but after an entire day and night without sleep, and experiencing the worst kind of grief over the loss of his favorite child, he could hardly be blamed for lunging at Darcy and tackling him to the ground.
“Bingley trusted you to save her, and now she is gone—because you failed her. How dare you enter my house!” Mr. Bennet’s cries were punctuated by wild punches. Darcy did not fight back, for deep down he knew he deserved to be punished.
The ladies, unnerved by the violent scene, huddled in the corner. Mrs. Bennet began to wail about the state of her poor nerves, bemoaning the fact that her husband would not survive a duel with Mr. Darcy should it come down to pistols at dawn.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Bingley pulled them apart. Bingley became uncharacteristically severe.
“Mr. Bennet, now is not the time to take your anger out on people who are trying to help. Mr. Darcy is not at fault for Elizabeth’s disappearance. He is not your enemy.”
Jane ran to her father. “Papa, you owe Mr. Darcy an apology.”
Darcy was straightening his cravat and appeared unfazed by the blood dripping from his nose.
Mr. Bennet seemed to realize the error of his ways in the face of such charges, but he was not pleased to apologize. He did so gruffly.
“Apology accepted, sir,” Darcy said. “I will depart if my presence is too painful.”
Mr. Bennet was surprised to receive such a gallant response from the man he had just attacked. He sighed deeply and stalked off to his library.
Mrs. Bennet handed Darcy a handkerchief.
“I apologize for my husband, sir. It has been a very trying day. You are welcome here. We have room enough for you and your family.”
“I thank you, madam,” Darcy said, taking the handkerchief and wiping the blood from his face, “but we will stay in Meryton. We do not wish to be an imposition during this difficult time. If there is any way either myself or my cousin can be useful, we will be at your service.”
Mrs. Bennet was equally stunned by Darcy’s civility. Perhaps there truly had been an understanding between him and Elizabeth. The very idea was shocking. She was overzealous in the expression of her gratitude to both Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam.
No one at Longbourn was inclined to dine. The Netherfield party departed and took up residence at the local inn.
Georgiana sat in the parlor, her tea untouched in front of her, as her brother and cousin discussed Wickham in the corner of the room. “Will Elizabeth survive the Immortal Rite?” she finally said, in a timid voice.
Darcy went to his sister’s side and took her in his arms.
“She will, sweetheart,” he soothed—hoping, rather than truly believing it. He had to hope. He could not face a future without Elizabeth. There was still a chance that Elizabeth would return to him
***
Lydia waited until the rest of the household was asleep before sneaking out and making her way to the regimental quarters. She knocked at the door of the boarding house. Mrs. Forster’s servant answered the door, his mistress trailing behind him.
“Lydia, what could possibly bring you here at this hour?”
“Oh, Harriet, I am so frightened,” she cried. “Please, no one but the wife of a military man will understand my plight.”
Mrs. Forster invited Lydia in and brought her to the drawing room.
“Now tell me, what is the matter?”
“I have not told anyone this, but Mr. Wickham and I were married some time ago. And now he has disappeared. I have no idea where he might be. You are the only person I can turn to.”
Mrs. Forster shook her head. “My poor friend. Mr. Wickham resigned from the regiment yesterday and, according to Mr. Denny and Mr. Carter, he has gone to the Continent. I fear you have been abandoned. Rest assured your secret will remain safe with me.”
Lydia could hardly bear it. She had followed her Sire’s orders, and he had repaid her with abandonment. It had never occurred to her that Wickham would leave Hertfordshire without her.
She left Mrs. Forster without saying another word.
***
The following day, the Bennets and most of the other families in the neighborhood gathered at Lucas Lodge. The most prominent victims of the Netherfield fire were Lady Lucas and Sir William Lucas. They had been unable to escape the flames and were killed.
Mr. Harrison Lucas delivered the eulogy, flanked by Maria Lucas and the Collinses.
Charlotte and her husband had arrived early that morning and could only remain in Hertfordshire for the day—Lady Catherine claimed she could spare them no longer. Mr. Collins had far more respect for his patroness than for his wife and her family.
After the funeral, Charlotte sought out the Bennets and was surprised to discover Elizabeth was not amongst them.
“My dear Charlotte, I am so sorry for your loss,” Jane said. She, next to Elizabeth, had the closest friendship with the grieving lady. They found comfort together and at length Charlotte inquired after Elizabeth.
Jane brought Charlotte outside on the balcony so no one could overhear. Charlotte was exceedingly shocked by what Jane revealed.
“Will she return?” Jane asked Charlotte, for neither Darcy’s nor Bingley’s assurances had eased her worry.
“You must hold out hope,” Charlotte said. “And please, write to me when she returns. It is difficult enough to go through the Rite when one knows it is coming. I cannot imagine how it must feel to unexpectedly wake up in a grave. It was valiant of Mr. Darcy to try and save her. While I truly believe they are well suited, their path will not be smooth. It is something that ladies do not warn other ladies about, but the Sire Bond is a powerful force. Elizabeth will be compelled to do as Mr. Darcy wishes. I do not believe he will abuse that power, but you know how Elizabeth despises being forced to do anything she does not wish to do.”
***
After three days of agonized waiting, the night Elizabeth would emerge from her grave had finally arrived. Darcy waited until Bingley, the colonel, and Georgiana were asleep before fetching one of the maids from Longbourn. They were about to make their way towards the field, when a voice behind them said, “Darcy, you cannot seriously think I will allow you to go to Elizabeth’s grave alone.”
Darcy turned to see his cousin, waiting in a wingback chair in the parlor.
“I need to do this alone, Richard. I Turned her. It is my responsibility.”
“Darcy, I know you only Turned her to save her life, but Miss Elizabeth may not see it that way. You proposed to her a fortnight ago, and suddenly she wakes up a vampire, without her consent? Think of how it will seem to her.”
Those precise thoughts had been plaguing his nightmares since he buried Elizabeth. The idea that she would hate him for eternity was impossible to banish from his thoughts, especially given their history of misunderstandings. But he would rather have Elizabeth alive and hating him than dead. Perhaps he had been selfish, but he could not have acted differently. He could not have allowed Elizabeth to die. If she could not forgive him for Turning her, then so be it.
“Do you think I have not thought of that? I am no fool. I know I will have much to answer for.”
“I am going with you,” his cousin said, sounding resolute. “I do not want either of you to do something you may later regret.”
***
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth cried. She was surrounded by darkness, and initially she could not recall the incident that had caused her to faint. Then she was overwhelmed by memories of gunshots, flames, and unimaginable pain. She had been certain it was the end.
After another moment passed, she realized she had died. Every instinct was roaring for her to Hunt, to feed. She reached up only to feel damp earth above her. She plunged her fingers into it and was assaulted by dirt and grime, but after a few moments a light pierced the darkness—the full moon rode overhead. She tore at the earth again until she created an opening large enough to fit through.
She rose and found herself standing in the spot where Darcy had proposed to her. Her blood sang for her to go to him, but a baser instinct demanded that she Hunt. Elizabeth followed the latter and took off in the direction of Longbourn.
***
Darcy had never run so fast, not as a human nor as a vampire. He wanted to be there as Elizabeth emerged, ready to welcome her into her new existence—or more likely, fall on his knees and beg her to forgive him for failing to protect her. He had sensed the moment she opened her eyes; he had felt it in his blood and it pulled him to her.
When he reached her grave he felt stabbed through the heart. The grave was empty and there was nothing indicating where Elizabeth might have gone.
The colonel finally caught up to him. “Where is she?” he cried.
“She could be anywhere. We must find her before trouble befalls her.”
Elizabeth had never experienced true exhilaration until now, running down the path to Longbourn with preternatural speed, her scarlet gown billowing behind her. She had always delighted in exercise, but this was euphoric.
It was early enough in the day that the few maids employed at Longbourn were awake and seeing to their morning responsibilities. Rose, the kitchen maid, was drawing water from the well when Elizabeth approached her. The young woman jumped and spilled the bucket when she saw Elizabeth.
“Miss Lizzy, you are alive! Oh, madam will be so pleased.”
Elizabeth had lost her mortality the night of the Yule Ball, but her sense of humor was still intact. “I would not say alive,” Elizabeth said, her fangs descending. She pulled Rose to her and sank her teeth into the soft flesh of her neck. Blood filled Elizabeth’s mouth for the first time, and while she had always imagined it would be a disturbing sensation, she felt more satisfied than she ever had after eating a proper meal.
Once her hunger was sated, her more feral instincts urged her to continue, and they were difficult to resist. She felt Rose weakening and she knew she was taking too much, but no one in polite society had ever warned her about the bloodlust of a fledgling vampire.
“Elizabeth, I beg of you, release her.”
Elizabeth drew away and allowed Rose to fall to the soft grass underfoot. The poor girl was barely conscious. Elizabeth felt like a monster. On her first night as a vampire she had nearly violated the most sacred of the Dictates—she had almost taken a human life. She collapsed to her knees and allowed herself the luxury of tears. She did not turn to see who had stopped her, but soon felt strong arms pull her into an embrace, comforting her as she wept. She felt at home as she took solace in the arms of the man who had saved her from depravity. At length, she looked up.
Darcy looked down at her, his gaze filled with love and relief.
“My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, thank goodness you are safe,” he whispered.
Elizabeth was tempted to remain in his arms, but then words that seemed like a distant memory came unbidden to her mind: You have been under his Thrall since he returned to Hertfordshire. It was now all too clear. She had refused his proposal and he had taken the first opportunity to Turn her against her consent so she would be forced to accept him.
Suddenly his touch was repugnant. The attraction she had felt for him, the feelings she had tried to repress, were only because of a Thrall. Not knowing her own strength, she pushed against him.
He landed in the bushes some distance away.
“Mr. Darcy, I never imagined you to be capable of such atrocities. You are a monster, and I never wish to see you again.”
Darcy was on his feet and beside her again in an instant. He took her hand in his.
“Elizabeth, please allow me to explain. I know this is a confusing time, and I have much to answer for, but you must give me the chance to say my piece.”
Elizabeth wanted to give in to the request of her Sire, but her wish to follow her own free will was greater.
“Did you consider my feelings before you acted? No. You simply took what you wanted. Do not bother with rehearsed explanations. Your Thrall will not work on me now that I know the truth.”
In any other circumstance, the pain on Darcy’s face at her accusation would have convinced Elizabeth of his innocence; but the fact that even now she longed to return to his embrace could only mean he was using his abilities to manipulate her. It was an unforgivable betrayal.
“Elizabeth, I swear to you, I do not have the ability to Enthrall anyone. If I did, nothing would ever compel me to use it upon you.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam ran through the garden gate.
“Miss Elizabeth, he is telling the truth,” he cried. “To the moment of your near death, George Wickham was trying to manipulate you, to turn you against Darcy. His associates confessed the truth to me. It was Wickham who set Netherfield aflame and tried to kill you.”
The sound of gunshots returned to Elizabeth’s memory, as well as Wickham’s vehement claim that he and Darcy were the same. Was that why Wickham had shot her? Because she had refused to believe him about Darcy?
Elizabeth felt lost, unsure of whom to trust. There were so many questions that needed answers, but to learn the truth would overwhelm her. It was too much to endure on her first night as a vampire, so she did what any sensible person would do—she fled.
The colonel blocked Darcy’s attempt to pursue her.
“She needs time. Her entire world has unraveled. Be grateful she has returned. You will have an eternity with her; a little time for her to adjust and accept the truth would not go amiss.”
Darcy saw the sense in his cousin’s words, but found it unbearable that Elizabeth was out in the world thinking badly of him. Worse than that, she was suffering—and he was responsible for it. He was selfish enough that he would never regret turning her, but more than anything he regretted causing her unimaginable pain in doing so. He only ever wanted to love and protect her, and he had failed in every sense.
“Go back to the inn,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I will take care of this poor girl.” He took the unconscious maid in his arms and carried her into the house.
Darcy, much as it pained him, made his way back to Meryton.
***
Elizabeth returned to Longbourn after an hour, sure that Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would have gone on to Meryton. She wanted to help poor Rose, and also confess her new condition to her family. They had certainly been through agony while she was in her grave and she must relieve their pain.
She gripped the handle of Longbourn’s front door but could not open it. The door was not locked. The realization that she was no longer Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn hit her hard; that woman had died the night of the Yule Ball. Now she was Elizabeth Bennet, vampire, and destined to be the Eternal Partner of Mr. Darcy. She was not sure she would ever learn to trust him, let alone love him. She had once declared he was the last man in the world she would marry and that she could not bear to spend eternity with him.
Her present situation was certainly a cruel twist of fate.
Elizabeth headed for the barn, for she could not enter the main house uninvited, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
She would not run to Darcy, though her blood called out for him. She had not been Turned in accordance with the Dictates, so she would not follow them. She refused to become the Eternal Partner of a man who had not earned her affection. This would not be easy. At every turn she would have to resist every vampiric instinct; but unless Darcy proved worthy of her trust she would not give in to him.
Elizabeth climbed into the hayloft. She would be a wretched sight later—covered in dirt, blood, and hay—but at least she would be safe and sheltered.
Elizabeth left the barn several hours later and approached the house. With a small stone she aimed for the sill beneath Jane’s bedroom window. To her relief, Jane’s face appeared a moment later.
“Elizabeth? Is it truly you?”
“Yes. Come outside,” Elizabeth called.
Jane disappeared from view and came to the garden a few minutes later. Dark circles beneath her eyes indicated she had not slept well for several nights. She engulfed her younger sister in a tight embrace.
“Oh, Lizzy, thank goodness you have returned. When Mr. Darcy told me what he did, he was uncertain he had succeeded.”
“What did he tell you?”
“He saved your life, Lizzy. That awful Wickham shot you and we almost lost you. If not for Mr. Darcy, you would have been taken from us forever.” When she pulled away, tears were trailing down her pale face.
“Jane, I must know—why are you so willing believe the best of Mr. Darcy?”
“You did not see him after he buried you, Elizabeth. I know you may not believe it, but Mr. Darcy loves you, more than anything. It was very plain to see. Such love is all I have ever wanted for you. If you give him a chance, he will not disappoint you. If I have learned anything from my time with Mr. Bingley, it is that love is not easy; it must be fought for, but it is well worth the effort.”
Elizabeth had always thought Jane too trusting and too eager to see the best in others, but she also knew Jane had high standards for earning her true esteem and respect, and she always spoke her mind. That Darcy had truly earned Jane’s good opinion was not meaningless. Still, having faith in others had never been easy for Elizabeth. If she opened her heart to Darcy, he would have the power to break it.
“Can you tell me, with absolute certainty, that you feel nothing for him, Lizzy?”
“No,” Elizabeth replied, before she could prevent herself.
Jane smiled. “You may not see it now, Lizzy, but I have faith you and Mr. Darcy will make each other happy. You are both too stubborn for any other outcome.”
***
“Elizabeth, my child, come inside,” Mr. Bennet said.
Elizabeth crossed the threshold into her childhood home and embraced her father.
“I never thought I would see you again,” he said. “Where have you been?”
“I am afraid I did not survive the burning of Netherfield,” Elizabeth said, placing her father’s hand on her chest.
His eyes widened—there was no heartbeat.
“Lizzy, who did this to you?”
“It does not matter,” Elizabeth said. She did not want to give her family expectations that she could not yet follow.
“It matters a great deal. First Lydia, and now you? I have failed as a father. I hope you will forgive me for failing to protect you.”
“There is nothing to forgive, Papa. I will tell you and our family anything you wish to know after I have cleaned myself up. Three days spent in a grave have not done me any favors, and I fear I have not only ruined my own clothing, but yours as well.”
“No matter. I will have Hill draw you a bath, and you will have some of the Blood Wine we procured for Mr. Bingley.”
Half an hour later, Elizabeth sank into the steaming tub. She scrubbed her entire body with lavender and honey soap, desperate to wash the awful night off her flesh. She could never wash away the pain George Wickham had inflicted, although the bullet wounds had healed. Nor could she wash away Darcy’s betrayal or—much as she wanted to—her affection for him.
That he was her Sire may have strengthened their Bond, but it could not be forged from nothing. They were indelibly connected, and she owed it to him and to herself to give him a proper chance. When she emerged from the bath, she felt truly reborn. This also meant that Longbourn—as much as she loved it—was no longer her home. Eventually she must establish a new home with Darcy.
Elizabeth sat before her vanity, staring at her lack of reflection in the mirror. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn was dead. In her place was a new woman entirely.
She rose and dressed herself in a blue silk gown, the best in her wardrobe. Jane dressed her hair in an elegant coiffure.
“You look lovely, Lizzy.”
“Thank you. Will you come to Meryton with me? I am not certain I can face Mr. Darcy again on my own.”
“Of course,” Jane said. “You know I would do anything for you.”
Elizabeth and Jane went downstairs, where the rest of the family waited. Elizabeth hugged and kissed each of them in turn. To spare her, Mr. Bennet had told the rest of his family the truth.
Mrs. Bennet was insistent on knowing the identity of her Sire, but Elizabeth refused to yield.
“I am going with Jane to call on Mr. Bingley,” Elizabeth said. “I know he has blamed himself for my disappearance and I must make amends.”
Mrs. Bennet could hardly argue with that sentiment, but she was extremely put out that Elizabeth was not more forthcoming.
“You have no pity on my poor nerves!” she cried, before lying on the sofa and fanning herself.
Mary and Kitty wanted to accompany them on their call, but Mr. Bennet declared they would remain to care for Lydia, who had been inconsolable—although her sister’s absence was not the reason. After briefly greeting her elder sister, Lydia had left and locked herself in her room.
Elizabeth was not bothered by Lydia’s cool reception for they had never been close. That her mother had returned to complaining about her nerves only reassured Elizabeth that some things would always remain the same; that was some comfort in the face of her uncertain future.
You must return to Pemberley the day after tomorrow. The marriage between you and Anne has been delayed long enough.
-Your Sire and Father
Darcy showed Colonel Fitzwilliam the brief missive that had been delivered by the maid at the inn.
“I cannot leave Elizabeth, but I cannot tell my father what I have done. Such a letter could fall into the wrong hands and the Bennet family would be ruined.”
“Georgiana and I will return to Pemberley, and I will explain the situation to him in person,” his cousin said. “It will not buy you much time, but it is better than the alternative.”
“Thank you, Richard. I am indebted to you.”
“You and Elizabeth are meant for each other. I will not let some ridiculous marriage to Anne—that is supported only by your father and Aunt Catherine—come between you. My parents will take your side, as will your mother, I am sure of it.”
Darcy was not so confident. He knew Elizabeth was one lady in a thousand, and he had abandoned his foolish pride and his concern the clan’s expectations, but he did not believe his family capable of doing the same. Still, if he had to forsake his entire clan he would do so, for Elizabeth. But only if he was able to earn her trust again.
“Georgiana and I will depart as soon as our trunks are packed. I will make the preparations now. You should go to Longbourn.”
After the colonel departed, a maid entered and announced the arrival of Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth.
Darcy asked her to show them to the private sitting room, and said he would join them shortly. It was rare that he wished to check his appearance. He was certain his lack of sleep would be reflected in his features. He was aware he was only delaying the inevitable confrontation. As much as he wanted to see Elizabeth, he feared she had only come to say she wanted nothing to do with him.
Bingley had discovered the presence of the elder Bennets, and was with them in the sitting room when Darcy arrived.
Elizabeth rose when Darcy entered, and for a moment he dared to hope they could find happiness together. She offered him her hand and he took it.
Jane and Bingley removed themselves to the far corner of the room to give the other couple as much privacy as they could in their capacity as chaperones.
“Mr. Darcy, I believe I owe you an apology. I should not have run away without listening to what you had to say.”
“Miss Elizabeth, I am the one who is to blame. I only Turned you to save your life, but in doing so, I took away your choice. It is natural you would harbor resentment.”
Elizabeth took his other hand in hers.
“I believe it is important that I am honest with you. There is no way we can build a life together without honesty. I do resent having my choice taken away, but I know you acted as you did out of the deepest love. While I cannot profess to feeling as you do, I would be lying if I said I did not care for you. I only hope you will give me time to adjust to this new reality. I do not want to push you away, but I cannot accept you at this juncture.”
“To know you care for me is more than enough for now. Take all the time you need. I only ask that you allow me to show you how much I care for you,” Darcy said, kissing her hand.
Elizabeth smiled at him. “I believe you have done so already, sir, but I would not dare suspend any pleasure of yours.”
It warmed Darcy’s unbeating heart to be teased in such a manner. There was still one sin of which he had to absolve himself in her eyes.
“In the name of honesty, I must know, do you truly believe I am capable of Enthralling you?”
“No. I fear I allowed Wickham to manipulate me yet again. I apologize for my weakness. May I suggest we begin looking on the past only as it gives us pleasure? For as immortals, if we agonize over the past, we will spend much time doing so. There is little use in such an occupation.”
Darcy ran his thumb over her palm in a small caress. “I believe I could learn to adopt your philosophy.”
The rest of the afternoon was spent pleasantly. It was refreshing for Darcy and Elizabeth to spend time together now that no secrets remained. Jane and Bingley were happy to see their progress and were hopeful for a joyful outcome in the future.
Elizabeth, however, spent the evening at Longbourn feeling like a stranger. As much as she loved her mother and her father, they would one day be lost to her. Perhaps Mary and Kitty would marry Firstborn Sons in the future, but there could be no way of knowing. She would always have Jane, which was a blessing. Lydia, for better or worse, was also immortal.
Elizabeth could not deny she would one day be a member of Darcy’s clan, and they would be her family in the truest sense of the word. It was a sad truth, but the truth nonetheless.
***
The following day, Darcy and Bingley called at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet, still vexed with Elizabeth, had no intention of spending an entire afternoon in the company of Mr. Darcy. The last time he had been at Longbourn had been quite enough for her and she was happy to forfeit her chaperoning responsibilities to Elizabeth. Mary and Kitty were still tending heartbroken Lydia.
Elizabeth was grateful to spend time with Darcy away from her mother’s watchful eye. The woman was not the brightest, but even she would know that something was amiss if she witnessed their newfound intimacy.
After tea, Mr. Bingley proposed a walk to Oakham Mount. The other couple agreed, though the objective was certainly not seeing the views from the mount. Jane and Bingley immediately fell behind Darcy and Elizabeth and settled into a very sedate pace.
“I never imagined Mr. Bingley so willing to flout social rules,” Elizabeth said, with a teasing smile.
Darcy returned one of his own. “It was Bingley’s suggestion, and I confess to accepting such an arrangement with no objection myself.”
“I am shocked, sir,” Elizabeth cried with mock outrage. “It leads me to speculate you may have impure intentions.”
“Nothing of the sort, I assure you. But there is a pressing matter I need to discuss with you.” He seemed uncharacteristically nervous, and Elizabeth ventured it must be rather serious to have such an effect.
“My father has been quite insistent on my return into Derbyshire and has been making serious threats should I not comply. I must go to Pemberley within the week. I have no desire to go without you, but I would understand if you do not wish to accompany me.”
Elizabeth laughed, forcing Darcy to inquire exactly what was amusing.
“Timing is a mysterious thing. Since yesterday, I have come to the conclusion that I no longer belong at Longbourn. It would be the height of poor manners—not to mention incredibly scandalous—for me to impose upon a man whom I have not accepted. But it appears you are chivalrous, in addition to your other admirable traits.”
Darcy smiled. “You will take the journey with me?”
“I cannot delay meeting the clan forever now, can I?
“I will make arrangements for us to depart tomorrow then, if that meets with your approval.”
Elizabeth agreed with the plan and added, “I suppose, to spare my reputation, our engagement must be made public throughout the neighborhood. I expect my mother will be happy to take on that responsibility.”
Darcy was stunned. Did Elizabeth truly mean it?
The teasing expression disappeared from her features.
“In the name of honesty, sir, I must confess that one day has not made me reconsider what I said yesterday. I merely realize the inevitability of our situation, at least where society is concerned. Publically, we shall be engaged, but I will own that I still have apprehensions about becoming your wife. I ask you to give me more time. I hope, sir, you will not take this to mean I will not—one day in the future—happily accept a proposal from you.”
“You are imminently practical, Miss Elizabeth, and I will be happy to continue to court you. It is my greatest wish to have your heartfelt consent, rather than your mere approval due to compromised circumstances.”
Elizabeth placed a hand on his cheek. “If you are to court me, you may dispense with the formality of calling me Miss Elizabeth. Tomorrow we will be publicly engaged, which to my way of thinking gives you the right to use my Christian name.”
Darcy placed his hand on top of hers, and leaned his forehead against hers.
“As you wish, Elizabeth,” he whispered, uttering her name as a caress.
It sent a tingle down Elizabeth’s spine, and she leaned into him.
“And what may I call you? Fitzwilliam seems rather formal.”
“Nothing would bring me greater joy than to hear you address me as William,” Darcy said; only his mother and Georgiana did so. This seemed appropriate now that Elizabeth had become the most important lady in his life.
“William,” Elizabeth said. “I believe I could grow used to addressing you so informally.”
Darcy had never wanted to kiss Elizabeth more than in that moment; all he needed was the slightest indication she would not turn him away, which came in the form of an inviting smile.
Elizabeth placed her hands at his waist, caught in the spell of the moment.
Darcy lowered his lips to hers and expressed himself as only a man ardently in love could. His reward was Elizabeth returning his kiss with shy enthusiasm. Darcy was touched, and his ardor further enflamed. Their kiss felt eternal but Darcy knew nothing so perfect could last forever.
Elizabeth was the one to pull away and, to Darcy’s dismay, looked quite mortified.
What must Darcy think of her? That she would refuse his proposal and then kiss him as if her very existence depended on it? She was tempted to flee, but knew that would only temporarily save her from embarrassment—and would hurt Darcy in the process. She had hurt him enough of late, and had no desire to do so again. The far more frightening course was to be honest.
“I should not have done that,” she said. “It is wrong of me to refuse your proposals yet welcome your advances. I cannot imagine what you must think of me.”
Darcy chuckled. “No, you cannot—and as a gentleman, I cannot say; but rest assured it is nothing negative. You have made me very happy, Elizabeth, and I assure you there is no need to feel ashamed.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead and offered her his arm.
They proceeded further down the path. Elizabeth’s heart would have been pounding, had that been possible. Her mortification had only been covering an intrinsic truth: Fitzwilliam Darcy was her soul mate. She had never felt more complete than when she was in his arms.
Yet she still would not let herself think those three little words; for if she did, it would mean being truly vulnerable for the first time. Perhaps that made her a coward, but with so much change in such a short time, she could hardly be blamed.
***
When Elizabeth returned from the outing, she rang for Mrs. Hill and requested her trunk be packed. The housekeeper was surprised by such a request but rushed off to complete the task.
Elizabeth made her way to her father’s library and knocked. Mr. Bennet bade her enter.
“Papa, I must tell you something, and I fear you will disapprove.”
“You may tell me anything, Lizzy. You know that,” Mr. Bennet said, and set down his book. “Now tell me what is on your mind.”
“I must leave Longbourn.”
The color faded from his face. “You just returned. Is your Sire threatening to take you away from Longbourn against your will?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I came to the decision on my own. As much as I would like to pretend otherwise, my whole life has changed. But unlike Lydia, my Sire has not abandoned me, and I have come to realize he never will. Longbourn is no longer my home. I am in a difficult position due to my wish to delay going through the Eternal Rite, but the fact remains I am no longer Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. I cannot remain in Hertfordshire and pretend to be someone I am not.”
“You must tell me, Lizzy, who is this Firstborn Son you are not willing to marry, even as you are willing to abandon your home and family for him?”
There was no use concealing the truth so she unfolded an abridged version of their history together and ended with the revelation of the name of her Sire.
“Mr. Darcy! Are you out of your senses, Lizzy? I do not care if he is your Sire. You will be dooming yourself to an eternity of unhappiness if you commit yourself to a man you do not love. Have you not always hated him?”
“I do not hate him, and I do not believe I ever did. I have been blind about many things, but I do care for him and I know he is well suited for me. He saved my life, and he loves me. We are connected forever, and I cannot run from that reality.”
“In other words, you are determined to have him. He is rich, to be sure, and well connected. You will have fine clothes, carriages, and I have heard Pemberley is a remarkable estate. But will all that make you happy?”
Elizabeth sighed. “Have you any other objection, other than your belief in my indifference?”
“No. He saved your life, and as much as I would like to say otherwise, even I could see his heartbreak in the aftermath of Netherfield, although I did not understand it at the time. We all know him to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man; but this would mean nothing if you truly liked him.”
“I do like him. He is a good man, even though it took time for me to see it.”
“If you are certain, I have nothing more to say. You have my blessing. I know better than to dissuade you when you have made up your mind.”
“May I ask a favor, Papa?”
Mr. Bennet nodded, although he could not imagine it would be as significant as asking for his blessing to leave Hertfordshire with a man to whom she was not engaged.
“I am not ready to become formally engaged, but neither Mr. Darcy nor I wish for my departure to harm our family’s reputation. I was hoping Mama could make it known that we are engaged. There is no need for anyone in the neighborhood to know I have not officially accepted his offer, but it would be prudent for people to believe that I have.”
Mr. Bennet surmised the rest of the favor.
“Naturally, it would be best if your mother believed your engagement was official. Very well, I shall tell her, and by the time you depart it will be known throughout the neighborhood.”
Elizabeth embraced her father and kissed his cheek before allowing him to return to his solitude.
Darcy’s carriage arrived at Longbourn the following morning. Elizabeth bid her family adieu, embracing each of them, and promised to write faithfully.
Lydia Bennet watched as Darcy handed her sister into his carriage. Wickham would want to know of this development; but he had abandoned her. She decided to resist the instinct to write him. It would verge on painful to ignore her Sire’s direct orders, but it would be well worth it to pay him back for his abandonment.
“How long will it take to journey to Pemberley?” Elizabeth asked.
“If the roads are good, we should arrive tomorrow evening. We will stay at an inn tonight.”
The idea of spending a night alone with Darcy was unsettling.
Darcy seemed to sense her discomfort and said, “You have no need to worry about anything untoward happening. You will have your own room, with a maid for a chaperone.”
“That was not my concern,” Elizabeth said. “I trust you in that regard.”
“But not in others?” Darcy ventured.
“No, it is not that. The enormity of what we are doing just occurred to me. I am leaving my family and the only home I have ever known to venture north—where I have never been—to meet a prominent vampire clan. It is rather overwhelming.”
“You are nervous,” he said, frankly finding it endearing. That she was nervous to meet his family meant she cared, even if she did not love him yet.
“Can you blame me?” She turned and looked out the window.
Darcy smiled and carefully maneuvered himself across the carriage to sit beside her. After some hesitation he placed his arm around her, and was surprised when she rested her head on his shoulder. This simple gesture felt even more intimate than the kisses she had given him the previous day.
“My family is just like any other family. They simply need to drink blood. Richard and Georgiana love you, and in time so will the rest of my family. You only need to be your kind and lively self and they will come to love you as I do.”
Elizabeth raised her brow. “Even with my lack of fortune and family connections?”
“That does not matter,” Darcy said, and Elizabeth knew he really meant it. How different he was from the man she had met those many weeks ago.
***
After a long day of travel, the carriage stooped at an inn in a small village about halfway between Longbourn and Pemberley. The sun had set not long ago. Elizabeth was eager to escape the carriage and stretch her legs and—more importantly—Hunt.
Darcy handed her out, holding her hand longer than was proper.
Elizabeth waited in the sitting room while Darcy arranged for their lodgings. He returned with an apprehensive expression on his face.
“I am afraid I have bad news. The innkeeper informs me he has only one room available. I suppose we could drive on to the next village, but it would take more than an hour. It is difficult to drive safely with only a small crescent moon.”
Elizabeth took his hand. “We may stay here. I trust you. Remember?”
Relief suffused his features. Elizabeth’s easy acceptance of small misfortunes was yet one more reason to love her.
Elizabeth began to tremble. She would have fallen if not for Darcy’s steadying hand.
“You need to feed,” he said. “I have some Blood Wine in the carriage.”
“No. I want to Hunt; and I want to you join me.”
The idea of Hunting with Elizabeth was certainly appealing. He remembered nights when his parents would disappear on a Hunt for hours at a time. Now he could also experience the thrill of the Hunt with a partner by his side.
They began by walking down the main street of the village. Only a few individuals roamed the streets. Once the pair was out of view, they took to the hills, towards an estate about a mile away.
In accordance with the Dictates, vampires could feed but not kill. They were only to feed upon the poor, and only at night. It had been that way since Henry the VIII had the Dictates written and established.
Elizabeth and Darcy happened upon a tenant farmer. He saw their approach and seemed to understand what was about to happen. He fell to his knees and exposed his neck.
“I do not know if I can do this,” Elizabeth murmured. “The last time I fed on a person, I nearly killed her.”
“I will be here, Elizabeth. I will prevent you from breaking the Dictates.”
“I must apologize, sir,” Elizabeth whispered to the tenant farmer.
“It is the way of the world, madam. I have made my peace with it.”
Elizabeth lowered her head to the farmer’s neck and bit down gently. His blood surged through her system, and she surprised herself by drawing away after a few mouthfuls. It did not take a lot of blood to quell a vampire’s hunger. With Darcy at her side she had the strength to resist her more monstrous urges.
Darcy took his turn, and when he finished, he gave the man several coins from his pocket.
The farmer was stunned. Firstborn Sons and their mates rarely took the trouble to pay the people from whom they fed.
“God bless you, sir, madam!” he cried.
The couple ran through the countryside together, putting to good use the adrenaline that came after feeding. Elizabeth laughed as she outran her companion. It was the first time she had fully let her guard down in his company, and she was a dazzling sight to behold.
She bolted behind a tree once she was out of his line of sight. He called out for her a moment later and she giggled behind her hand. When he came around the bend she brought him to the ground.
“Got you,” she declared triumphantly as they lay sprawled in the grass together.
“And what, pray, do you intend to do with me?” Darcy asked, favoring her with a teasing smile.
Elizabeth returned the smile in kind. “Absolutely nothing. I simply wanted to see if it was possible, and now I challenge you to do the same.” She was on her feet before he could say another word.
He pursued her using his full speed and took her in his arms just as the little village came into view. Laughter bubbled from her pert lips and Darcy was heartily tempted to kiss her.
She turned in his arms. “I surrender, sir,” she said. “What are your terms?”
“Anything you wish to give.”
Elizabeth kissed his cheek and slid her hand into his.
“We should return to the inn.”
***
After they returned from the Hunt, Darcy insisted on giving Elizabeth privacy to complete her nightly toilette. After a maid from the inn helped her with her stays and laces, she slipped behind the screen and pulled on her nightgown, then tied her hair with a ribbon and donned her robe.
So much had changed since she had agreed to accompany him to Pemberley. Away from all the gossips and prying eyes in Hertfordshire, Elizabeth was seeing his true inner self. He was kind, gentle, and even had a sense of humor—a far cry from the man she initially believed him to be.
Her attire was as modest as she could manage, but she still felt it not enough. That feeling was further confirmed when Darcy entered the room again. His gaze seemed to pierce her very soul. Their shared experiences on the journey and then the Hunt had brought them closer. She was still exhilarated from the Hunt, and now her Sire stood before her, nothing between them but a few feet of space. But he was more than her Sire. He was the man she was falling in love with—and the last place she should be was alone in a bedroom with him. It was the height of impropriety, and should have mortified her.
Darcy summoned the courage to speak first.
“You will take the bed,” he said. “The chair will do well enough for me.” His tone was more suited to a formal dining room than a bedroom, and Elizabeth stifled a laugh.
“I fail to see what is amusing, madam.”
“You are, sir,” she said, imitating his stiff address. “This is how you acted the night we met. We have now been through too much together for you to revert to your proper hauteur.” She closed the distance between them. “I see no reason for you to sleep in an uncomfortable chair. This bed is large enough that we may both sleep in it. No one ever need know of our indiscretion.”
Darcy was defenseless against Elizabeth’s gentle teasing. He took her hand and brought her to the bed. She slid between the covers and gave him a challenging look.
Darcy undressed behind the screen, extinguished the lamp, and settled in beside her. It was excruciating to have her so close yet be unable to touch her. On many occasions he had imagined sharing his bed with Elizabeth, but it had always been after she was his wife; they would pass the night with tender lovemaking as he pressed endearments into every inch of her bare flesh. Still, that she trusted him enough to share her bed—even in a chaste manner—meant everything to him. He would not fail her.
She soon fell asleep, and he not long after.
***
Darcy awakened with an exquisite weight upon his chest. He discovered Elizabeth snuggled into his side, using his body as a pillow. It was a pleasurable position indeed. He tightened his arm around her and brushed a kiss across her temple.
Oh, Elizabeth, if only you would agree to be my wife, then every night could be like this. But he could not be greedy or ask for more than she was willing to give at present. All he could do was treasure moments like these.
An hour later, Elizabeth began to stir. She yawned and rubbed her eyes before opening them, only to find herself pressed against Darcy. His smile indicated that this was no imposition, but she could not help feeling embarrassed.
Elizabeth rose and ducked behind the screen.
“Will we make it to Pemberley today?” she called, rifling through her trunk to find her best gown. The Fitzwilliam Clan was of the highest echelon of society. She had to look her best to meet them. Had her Yule Ball gown not been ruined, she would have worn that. Her next best option was the dress she had worn previously at the Netherfield ball. It too was scarlet, but the style was two seasons out of date. It would have to suffice. Elizabeth managed to arrange her hair into a simple coiffure but now understood the necessity of ladies’ maids for women who had been Turned. Preparing for the day was certainly more difficult without a mirror.
“We should arrive by evening. It appears to have been a mild winter thus far, so the roads should be clear.”
Elizabeth stepped out from behind the screen a few moments later.
“Would you assist me with these buttons? I fear this dress is impossible to put on without help.”
Darcy took his time with the impossibly small column of buttons, reveling in being so close to the lady he loved. He felt her tremble, and he longed to take her in his arms and reassure her everything would be fine.
“I have something for you. It will match your dress.” He crossed the room to where his greatcoat hung and removed a velvet box from one of the pockets.
“I meant to give it to you sooner, but there never was a proper time.” He presented the delicate gold chain of rubies and diamonds.
“William, it is stunning! But I cannot accept such a gift.”
“Of course you can. After I was Turned, my mother gave this to me, instructing me to give it to the lady I wished to be my Eternal Partner. You are the only lady I wish to spend eternity with, Elizabeth Bennet. Please, allow me.”
Elizabeth was touched by his declaration and by the sentiment behind the gift. She moved so he could fasten the necklace. His fingers lingered at the nape of her neck before he turned her around to observe the effect of his gift.
“Beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth whispered.
Darcy took her hand and bestowed a tender kiss upon it.
“You are very welcome.”
As they drove along, Elizabeth watched for the first appearance of the Pemberley woods with some perturbation. When at length they turned in at the lodge, her spirits were in a high flutter. Meeting the Fitzwilliam Clan was an intimidating prospect. Though she appreciated Darcy’s attempts to soothe her anxiety, she was certain the clan would not be as accepting of her as he was.
The park was very large and contained a great variety of ground. Elizabeth knew she would take great pleasure in exploring it with the man now sitting beside her. They entered the grounds at one of its lowest points, and drove for some time through a beautiful wood stretching over a wide extent.
Elizabeth saw and admired every remarkable spot and point of view. She took Darcy’s hand in hers in lieu of verbal praise. After gradually ascending for half a mile, they found themselves at the top of a considerable eminence. There the woods ceased, and Pemberley House immediately caught her eye.
It was a handsome stone building situated on the opposite side of the valley into which the road, with some abruptness, wound. It looked well on the rising ground, backed by a ridge of high woody hills. In front, a stream of some natural importance was swelled into greater size, but without any artificial appearance. Its banks were neither formal nor falsely adorned. She had never seen a place for which nature had done more, or where natural beauty had been so little counteracted by awkward taste.
Darcy was pleased beyond measure to see delight spread across Elizabeth’s features as she viewed her future home for the first time. He would enjoy showing her everything. He hoped she would come to love it as much as he did. Nothing would make him happier than to see Elizabeth well settled at Pemberley. After all, he had already been imagining her as Mistress of Pemberley for weeks.
“I believe you will find the park to your liking. There are many walks. One that may catch your interest is the path that follows the stream and circles the lake. I would be honored to show it to you.”
“Tonight?”
“If you wish.”
Elizabeth graciously accepted the offer. “It is lovely, William.”
“Then you approve of it?”
“Of course. How could I not?”
He smiled at her. “Your approval is not easily given, so it means a great deal that you are pleased by Pemberley. I hope one day you will call it your home.”
Elizabeth wanted to reassure him that one day she would, but the words refused to come out and the pair rode in silence until the carriage pulled up in front of the house.
A small assemblage of people stood on the steps awaiting their arrival. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana came to meet them as they alit from the carriage.
“Elizabeth, it is so good to see you!” Georgiana said, forgetting all propriety and embracing her.
“It is good to see you as well, Georgiana. I have missed you.”
“Miss Elizabeth,” the colonel said with a bow. “I hope it was an easy journey and that my cousin did not cause you much trouble.”
“It was a very pleasant journey, and if Mr. Darcy has a side that is prone to cause trouble, I have yet to see it.”
“Very graciously said, Miss Elizabeth. You will do quite nicely.” The colonel clasped her hand.
“Your hands are cold,” Elizabeth said. “I take it you just completed the Immortal Rite?”
“Very astute. It will be a comfort to have another fledgling at Pemberley.”
Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam exchanged smiles.
The colonel shook Darcy’s hand and whispered, “I have already put in a good word for Elizabeth with my parents, but your own noble parents seemed reluctant to hear what Georgiana and I had to say after I explained your peculiar situation.”
Darcy glanced at his parents and suddenly understood how he himself must have appeared—cold and distant—when he first arrived in Hertfordshire. He took Elizabeth’s hand in his and they stood in front of George Darcy and Lady Anne Darcy.
“Mother, Father, may I present to you Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire.”
Lady Anne Darcy extended her hand towards Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet, it is a pleasure to meet you. You are very welcome here at Pemberley.”
“Miss Bennet,” George Darcy said gruffly, looking none too pleased at receiving the introduction. The slight was keenly felt by the younger members of the clan.
Darcy repeated the introductions to the Earl and Countess of Matlock, as well as their two younger children, James and Amelia Fitzwilliam. The Fitzwilliams offered a warmer reception to Elizabeth than did the Darcys, which Darcy imagined was due to his cousin’s influence.
After the introductions, the group made their way into the house and settled in one of the north-facing sitting rooms.
Darcy took the seat nearest Elizabeth, should he need to protect her from any of his family members.
Elizabeth began a discourse about music with Georgiana and Amelia, and after a few moments, Lady Matlock offered her own opinions. She seemed pleasantly surprised by how well-spoken Elizabeth was.
“William, dear, come speak with me,” his mother called. Lady Anne was sitting on the window seat and gestured for her son to join her. Darcy was reluctant to abandon Elizabeth, but she seemed to be doing just fine.
“I must say, son, when Richard told us you were bringing a young lady to Pemberley, it was the last thing I expected to hear. I understand she has not accepted you, and yet you Sired her to save her life?”
Darcy nodded.
“You must truly love her, to willingly break the Dictates.”
“I do not regret my actions, nor will I apologize for them,” he said, not happy with where this conversation was headed.
“You misunderstand me, my dear boy,” Lady Anne said. “All I have ever wanted was for you to find someone you truly loved. But does she love you in return?”
“I hope one day she will. She is worth waiting for.”
Lady Anne smiled. “I am sure she will. But I did want to warn you—your father is unhappy with this development. He has always wanted you to marry your cousin, although I never understood his support of that match. It will take time to convince him that Miss Bennet is the correct choice for your Eternal Partner.”
“I have no intention of marrying Anne de Bourgh. I have no interest in acquiring Rosings for myself. I expect that estate is the reason behind my father’s wishes.”
Lady Anne was not convinced that acquiring Rosings was the true reason behind her husband’s emphatic support, but as she had nothing to prove her other theory, it was not worth mentioning to her son.
“You should speak with him. There is little point in putting it off.”
Darcy knew his mother was correct, but the last thing he wanted to do today was to speak with his father. First thing in the morning would suffice.
***
Dinner was a peculiar affair. Only Georgiana and the younger Fitzwilliams actually ate the meal the cook had prepared. The rest of the meal was comprised of Blood Wine and spirits. Elizabeth was happy to be seated between Darcy and Georgiana. As Georgiana inquired about their travels, Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand beneath the table.
Elizabeth would have never guessed that Fitzwilliam Darcy would be one to take so much pleasure in casual intimacy. She smiled at him before detailing the particulars of their journey. Elizabeth was conscious of the fact that she was under close observation from the elder members of the clan. It should have been daunting, but Elizabeth’s courage always rose with any attempt to intimidate her.
The Earl of Matlock and his wife had been civil enough, as had Lady Anne. Darcy’s father had barely said two words to her, but that did not trouble her overmuch. With a nearly-nonexistent dowry and few connections to speak of, she had not expected to immediately gain the approval of Darcy’s parents.
Elizabeth hoped their lack of approval would not discourage Darcy from his suit. She knew he was a man of deep loyalty, but she could hardly expect that loyalty to belong to her when she had not even accepted him yet. If she lost him now, it would be her own fault. And that was a terrible prospect.
After dinner, Georgiana offered to show Elizabeth where she would stay and introduce her to her new lady’s maid.
Before they left, Darcy came to bid her goodnight in the doorway of the sitting room.
Georgiana politely turned away.
“Meet me in the foyer at eleven o’clock,” he said.
Elizabeth nodded. “I will.”
Darcy favored her with a warm look that sent a jolt of sensation through her body. Suddenly she remembered how it had felt to sleep in his arms, and she momentarily lamented she would not be able to do so tonight.
Reluctantly, she released his hand and joined Georgiana.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Georgiana turned to Elizabeth and said, “Are you enjoying Pemberley so far?”
“It is a lovely estate,” Elizabeth replied. “I will be glad to see more of it.”
Georgiana smiled. “Elizabeth, if you do not mind, may I be forward?”
“You may tell me anything,” Elizabeth said, quite curious as to what Georgiana had to say.
“I hope you accept William soon. He loves you so dearly, that is plain to see. I have never seen my brother so happy. He needs you as his partner in life.”
Touched by Georgiana’s emphatic support of the match, Elizabeth felt obligated to say, “I do believe, in that regard, he will not be left long in suspense.”
“Truly?”
Elizabeth nodded, and unexpectedly found herself in a tight embrace. Georgiana then brought her to one of the many rooms in Pemberley’s guest wing.
Elizabeth was happy to see the room was decorated in an older style, and that the furniture was not so fine as to impede actual use. It was spacious and filled with fresh flowers from the Pemberley hot houses. A lady not much older than Elizabeth curtsied and introduced herself as Lucy. She had already seen to it that the room contained every item Elizabeth might need.
Georgiana lingered only a few minutes before excusing herself, insisting Elizabeth must be exhausted from the journey. As she did not intend to prepare for bed just yet, she dismissed Lucy. Still, Elizabeth found herself quite tired. Eleven o’clock was two hours away; a short rest might not go amiss.
***
Elizabeth was surprised when someone knocked on her door a short time later. She crossed the room and opened the door to find George Darcy on the other side.
“Miss Bennet, we need to speak.”
Elizabeth moved aside, as it was clear Darcy’s father was determined to speak with her, despite the impropriety of the time and place. Never mind that he had had the opportunity to do so several times in the past few hours.
“Miss Bennet, your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I sought this private discourse with you.”
Elizabeth was astonished at the severity of his tone.
“I am afraid, sir, I do not have the honor of understanding you.”
“The differences in your circumstances and those of my son are vast. You cannot be ignorant of that. You are a country nobody and related to my own sister-in-law’s rector. I have never heard of a Firstborn Son by the name of Bennet; yet my son brought you here to Pemberley. He violated the Dictates and Turned you. By the word of my nephew, Richard Fitzwilliam, my son seems intent on marrying you, though he has been engaged to my niece Anne de Bourgh since infancy. You cannot be at a loss, Miss Bennet, as to why these things are unacceptable.”
The man did not wait for Elizabeth to respond before continuing his tirade.
“Miss Bennet, you ought to know I am not to be trifled with. My character is celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and I assure you I will not depart from that to spare the feelings of a young lady I have only just met.”
“You will forgive me then, sir, for displaying equal frankness. I understand my relationship with your son is complicated and violates tradition. I have yet to accept his offer, but I believe—in light of the extenuating circumstances—that may be forgiven.”
George Darcy gave her a peculiar look. “Miss Bennet, that you have yet to accept my son is the only suitable decision you have made. I have come here tonight to ensure that you will never accept him. Your union is impossible.”
“If it was impossible, then why would Mr. Darcy have made me an offer of marriage in the first place? Do you mean to tell me you do not trust your own son to know his heart and mind?”
“It must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his clan. You have drawn him in—and if I heard correctly, your sister drew in Mr. Bingley in a similar manner. Your family appears quite capable of seducing Firstborn Sons, though they have never had the pleasure of claiming any such in their own family.”
Elizabeth had borne his criticisms with more or less equanimity until now, but she could not tolerate his criticism of Jane.
“It is bold of you to assume such knowledge of a family you have never met. Say what you will about me and about my lack of fortune, but I will not accept such blatant insults against my family. I have not drawn your son in. I do not practice such arts as you imply. I suggest you speak to your son if you wish to know why he offered for me. You are entitled to his innermost thoughts, perhaps, but you are certainly not entitled to mine; nor will such behavior as this induce me to be explicit.”
“Let me be rightly understood, Miss Bennet. My son is going to marry Anne de Bourgh. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. Now what have you to say?”
“Only this—that if Mr. Darcy was ever intent on marrying Miss de Bourgh, he never would have made an offer to me. Your son is a man of honor, and as he has offered, I see no reason why I cannot accept.”
George Darcy glowered at her. “Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his clan?”
“As of now sir, you are the only person I have heard who is in support of that match. I suppose Lady Catherine must support it as well, but no one else in your family has spoken to me in such a manner.”
“Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? He is destined for his cousin.”
“What is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your son, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his aunt and father wish for him to marry Miss de Bourgh. Mr. Darcy is a man of honor, and if he felt obligated to her, he would have acted long ago. If he is not confined to his cousin by either honor or inclination, why is he not to make another choice? And as I am that choice, why may I not accept him?”
“Because honor, decorum, and prudence forbid it! Your alliance would be a disgrace, and you would be a stain upon the tapestry of a clan that hails back to Henry VIII himself.”
“These are heavy misfortunes,” Elizabeth replied. “But I imagine that, as your son’s wife, I would have such extraordinary sources of happiness that I could, on the whole, have no cause to repine.”
“Obstinate, headstrong, girl! You are not worthy of joining this clan.”
“Neither your son, nephew, nor your daughter seem to share your opinion. If they do not object to my connections, I believe I shall be able to tolerate your disapproval. You can now have nothing further to say; you have insulted me at every turn. I hope, for the sake of your son, that we may one day get along. An eternity at odds with my husband’s father is not ideal, but I would tolerate a great deal more to be your son’s Eternal Partner. I bid you good night, sir.”
Elizabeth turned away from him, in an attempt to hide the tears that would undoubtedly fall.
George Darcy stormed out.
***
The encounter with Darcy’s father had shaken Elizabeth—but if any good had come of it, it was that she had overcome her reluctance to confess her feelings to Darcy. The mere threat to the match was enough to make her see she could not live a life without him, much less an eternal one. When she had first met him, she would never have imagined she would end up at Pemberley, as a vampire, and in love—but she supposed fate was peculiar in that way.
Just before eleven o’clock Elizabeth left her room, taking care to step lightly as she made her way to the foyer.
Darcy awaited her and was overjoyed when she embraced him. Though unexpected, the gesture was far from unwelcome, and he would be content to hold Elizabeth like this forever.
“And what have I done to deserve this display of affection, Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth looked up at him, a dazzling smile on her lips. “You will soon find out.”
Darcy took her by the hand and they left the darkened house together. They started down the path that led to the stream. Darcy was tempted to whisk Elizabeth away to one of the many secluded places along the path and show her just how much her embrace had meant to him, but he did not want to frighten her with his ardor. They had come such a long way in the past few weeks.
He had been vigilant in controlling his Sire Bond with her—not wanting to intrude on her thoughts and feelings—but he could not stop himself from wondering what was causing the nervous energy Elizabeth was exuding. He hoped it was not being alone with him tonight that was the culprit. He did not want Elizabeth to feel compelled to spend time with him because of their Bond. He would continue to torture himself with such thoughts if he did not ask her.
“Elizabeth, I must ask you a question, and I hope you will answer honestly.”
Elizabeth turned to him. “We agreed to be honest with each other in all matters moving forward, did we not?”
“I would never want you to feel I am taking advantage of the Bond that was forged when I Turned you. You seem nervous, and I hope it is not because my wish to meet you tonight was interpreted as a demand.”
“I believe you know better than most how I react when I feel compelled to do anything I do not wish to do. Please believe me when I say that had I not wanted to see you tonight, I would never have done so, even if your invitation had been delivered as an order, which it was not.”
Darcy was relieved.
Elizabeth, however, still seemed somewhat ill at ease. She bit her lower lip in a way that made Darcy yearn to kiss her.
“I will own to being nervous, but it is because I wish to tell you something that is not easy for me to say.”
“You may tell me anything. I hope one day you will confide in me in all matters,” Darcy said. He drew her to a stone bench slightly off the path.
They sat in silence for a few moments. Elizabeth was unsure where to begin, but she supposed an acknowledgement of her errors was as good a place as any.
“Since the day I met you I have had to learn time and time again that my judgment is not as keen as I once thought. I have been wrong about so many things, most of them involving you in some capacity. Since meeting you I have been humbled; but more importantly my eyes have been opened. I see now that everything I thought about you in the early days of our acquaintance was wrong. You have proven yourself to be a kind, generous, and honorable gentleman. Though I hardly know what made me worthy of your affection, that you have bestowed it upon me is quite possibly the greatest gift I have ever received.”
Elizabeth was caught off guard by the look of awe on his features, and his expression encouraged her to continue. She took his hands in hers.
“All of this is my clumsy attempt to convey the gravity of the change that my sentiments have undergone.”
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said, his voice raw with emotion, “do you mean what I hope you mean?”
Elizabeth smiled. “William, it would be my honor—nay, my deepest pleasure—to become your wife and Eternal Partner.”
The happiness this reply produced was such as Darcy had never felt before. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her deeply. The joy they both felt rolled over them in waves, and their Bond only intensified as Darcy showered her with kisses.
Elizabeth responded with an unbridled passion that once would have frightened her, but she knew she was safe with Darcy, and that he would not think less of her for acting on her desires. In fact, he was encouraging her ardor.
They drew apart only so Elizabeth could say, “I love you, William, and I now realize that I was in the middle of it before I knew it began. I only wish I had known sooner. I am sorry to have caused you any distress.”
Darcy kissed the tip of her nose, and stroked his hand along her back before pulling her closer.
“Elizabeth, any distress I may have felt was alleviated the moment you trusted me enough to accompany me to Pemberley. We may have had a rough beginning, and we will no doubt face other challenges in the future, but so long as we do so together—and I have the honor of spending an eternity with you—I shall never have any cause for regret. I love you so ardently, and tonight you have made me the happiest of men.”
Darcy then removed a box from his pocket and presented a gold ring embellished with flawless rubies and diamonds. It was a perfect complement to the necklace he had given to her.
“May I?” he asked.
Elizabeth held out her hand and Darcy slipped the ring onto her finger, and then kissed her hand. The moment was perfect, and Elizabeth would forever cherish it.
The newly-engaged couple rambled about the grounds, hardly knowing their direction. There was too much to be thought, and felt, and said for attention to any other object.
Darcy soon learned he was indebted to his father—of all people! —for Elizabeth’s impromptu confession of love and her acceptance of his proposal. Unluckily for George Darcy, his efforts had produced the opposite effect from what he had intended.
Elizabeth took care to assure Darcy she would have come to the same conclusion regardless of his father’s interference, but owned she was grateful he had come when he had.
“I am afraid he and I may not come to terms for some time. I hope that will not cause you any undue distress.”
“Elizabeth, my relationship with my father is already as distant as possible. While I may hope he will one day see the error of his ways, I would have never allowed him to come between us. You are my Eternal Partner, even though we have not yet endured the Eternal Rite. I felt it the moment I met you, and every day spent in your company has only solidified my belief that you and I were designed for each other.”
Elizabeth was touched by his heartfelt words and rewarded them in the manner they deserved.
They returned to Pemberley just as the sun was peeking over the hills.
Darcy bid Elizabeth adieu and she returned to her room, slipped into her nightgown, and slid under the covers, amazed at her own contentment.
Elizabeth slept well past noon and was only awakened when Lucy arrived to check on her new mistress for the third time.
Elizabeth rose and stretched as Lucy rummaged through the wardrobe. She had unpacked Elizabeth’s trunk the previous day and had arranged Elizabeth’s belongings just so.
“Are you feeling well, miss?”
“Very well indeed, Lucy. Why do you ask?
“It is nearly two o’clock in the afternoon,” Lucy said. “You missed breakfast and luncheon. Miss Darcy was quite worried.”
Lucy poured a glass of Blood Wine and handed it to Elizabeth.
“Please drink.”
Elizabeth drained the glass. She and Darcy had not Hunted the previous evening, and although she had imbibed Blood Wine at dinner, it was not as satisfying as blood from a warm body. Elizabeth had come to accept other aspects of being a vampire, but drinking from the peasants, servants, and tenant farmers still seemed largely unfair. Elizabeth herself had been born with enough privilege that that would never have been her fate, yet her family had also never accumulated enough wealth for the head of their family to earn the honor of going through the Immortal Rite. Such was the way of the world, and the people of England had made their peace with it. Things were done differently in other countries where the Dictates did not exist, but the vampires outside of England were fiercer, and uninhibited by any sort of morality. They killed the innocent for sport and pleasure, not for sustenance. She was relieved to live England, where vampires were more civilized.
Lucy helped Elizabeth dress and then arranged her hair. It was still strange not to see her reflection in the mirror. She was relieved to have Lucy to assist her so she could present herself to the Darcys and the Fitzwilliams with some degree of credit.
After Elizabeth’s toilette was completed, there was a knock on the door. Elizabeth bid Lucy answer it and was relieved to see members of the Darcy clan who did not hate her. Georgiana and Anne Darcy entered the room.
“Elizabeth, you are well!” Georgiana said. “We worried when you failed to appear downstairs. My brother would have joined us here, but my uncle requested he join him on a survey of the property.”
Elizabeth had not meant to worry anyone. She and Darcy would have to take care not to stay out until dawn again.
“I apologize for worrying you. It appears the journey to Pemberley exhausted me more than I expected,” Elizabeth said, knowing that was the only acceptable excuse. She could hardly admit to his mother and sister that she had spent most of the night with William.
Lady Anne peered at her in an odd manner, as if she knew the truth about the previous night. The ladies made their way to the small sitting room in Elizabeth’s apartments.
Lady Anne took Elizabeth’s hand and said, “I believe congratulations are in order, my dear.” The older lady glanced at the ring on Elizabeth’s hand. “Let me be the first to welcome you to our clan.”
Such warm acceptance from Darcy’s mother was wholly unexpected after the reception she had received from the lady’s husband the previous evening.
Georgiana’s face lit up and she rushed to embrace Elizabeth.
“Oh, I am so happy for you and William. I have always wanted a sister! Mama, we must begin preparations for the Rite as soon as possible.”
Lady Anne smiled indulgently at her youngest. “Sweetheart, do you not think that Elizabeth and William might want time to enjoy their engagement?” Then she turned to Elizabeth.
“Your path to love has been quite unconventional, has it not?”
Elizabeth laughed and replied, “Indeed, it has. I am ashamed to say so, but in truth, William and I did not like each other the first day we met. I thought him an arrogant man who would not lower himself to engage with country society after he refused to dance with me because I was only tolerable.”
“William said that?” Georgiana cried.
“Oh, yes. I believe his exact words to Mr. Bingley were, ‘She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt me.’”
Georgiana shook her head in disbelief, but Lady Anne laughed.
“I love my son dearly, but he has an unfortunate tendency to say things in company that he later regrets. His father was much the same when we first met.”
Elizabeth could easily imagine that Darcy’s father had a habit of giving offence to everyone when in company.
“Fortunately, it was not long after that our first impressions were overturned.” Elizabeth told the tale of her stay at Netherfield and then of the Netherfield Ball. She refrained from mentioning Wickham, or Darcy’s interference with Jane and Bingley. Those disasters were in the past, and she intended to keep them there.
When it came to the subject of Elizabeth’s Turning, she was quite reluctant to say anything.
“The only item of import is that William saved me from a monster, and I am fortunate he was able to do so in time. I would have missed so much if not for that horrible evening.”
“I thank you for sharing such personal stories with me, Miss Bennet. I am so grateful you and William found each other.” Lady Anne was genuine in her expression, and Elizabeth was glad to know at least one of Darcy’s parents truly wanted him to be happy.
Darcy’s mother left their conversation feeling quite satisfied with her son’s choice. Contrary to her husband and sister, she had never desired a union between her son and her namesake. Anne de Bourgh was not suited for her son, nor was he suited for her. She was quite certain such a union would have brought an eternity of misery upon both parties.
She had her own idea of why her husband was so insistent upon upholding that match. Her sister Catherine was a formidable lady and, although Lady Anne had never been able to prove it, she was quite certain her sister was capable of Enthralling others. Long before William was born, her husband had been a romantic, although he had never displayed those tendencies in public. But she held out hope that one day the Thrall upon him would be lifted and her true husband would be restored.
***
At the dinner table that evening, Darcy raised his glass and announced their engagement. Georgiana and the Fitzwilliam siblings congratulated them. Lady Anne raised her glass to Elizabeth, and the Earl and his wife shortly followed suit.
Elizabeth was not surprised George Darcy abstained from the toast. She took solace in the propriety of entwining her fingers with William’s in full view of the clan members present. The look George Darcy gave her was venomous, but Elizabeth was not bothered by it.
Afterwards, the gentlemen and the ladies separated as custom demanded. Darcy was unhappy to be separated from Elizabeth, especially as it meant he would have to face his father. Even though his father had failed in his attempt to separate him from Elizabeth, it did not excuse the sin of the action. Darcy did not doubt this part of the evening would be highly unpleasant. He hoped the presence of his uncle and cousins would force his father to contain his anger. He was destined for disappointment.
As soon as the colonel closed the door, George Darcy said, “Now that he is separated from that country chit, we may be able to talk some sense into my foolish son. What say you, Henry?”
Lord Matlock gave his brother-in-law a wary glance. “Really, George, we have not even given the girl a proper chance. In truth, I find her quite charming.”
“She is far from charming. You should have heard the way she spoke to me last night.”
Darcy scowled at his father. “She was provoked. You ambushed her. Did you expect her to listen to you attack her and her family and then politely agree with everything you said?” Darcy knew better than most that Elizabeth was not meek in the face of such circumstances.
The Fitzwilliam men were quite thrown by the direction of the conversation, having no prior knowledge of George Darcy’s conversation with Elizabeth the previous night.
“She is not Anne de Bourgh. At your infancy you were betrothed to your cousin, and I will not allow that union to be ruined by some country nobody. I am your father and your Sire and you will listen to me.”
“Your Sire Bond will not work on me any longer, Father. My loyalties are with Elizabeth, and there is nothing you can do to separate us.”
“Really, George, this insistence on the engagement between Anne and William is utter nonsense. It is no fault of Anne’s, but she would not make a proper wife for anyone, and I doubt she would even survive the Rites. Her constitution is too weak. Now, Richard has assured me Miss Bennet is exactly what a young lady ought to be—save for her lack of fortune—and as of yet I have seen nothing to contradict that opinion,” Lord Matlock said.
“There is little use in forcing a marriage that is not desired by either party,” Colonel Fitzwilliam added in an even tone of voice.
Darcy was grateful for the support of his other relations, but even without it he would not have been swayed from his position.
“Give the girl a chance. It is quite obvious to everyone at Pemberley that your son is hopelessly in love with her. Why, I have never in my life seen anyone so besotted. And may I remind you that you chose to marry for love. It is not Miss Bennet’s fault she was not blessed with fortune, as my sister Anne was.”
James Fitzwilliam, who had always been intimidated by his uncle, made no remark in support of either side. Truthfully, he was glad to see that Darcy had found someone he loved, as the man had a propensity to dislike every other lady he had met that was not a family member.
George Darcy made no retort, but clearly, he was still seething. Realizing he was outnumbered four to one, he left the billiard room.
“Well, William, I hope you do not take my support for granted. I value the reputation of our clan very seriously. Miss Bennet obviously makes you happy, but if there is any improper behavior on her part, I may be forced to revoke my approval.”
“Thank you, sir. You will not be disappointed.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam raised his glass. “Father, I believe you will find Miss Elizabeth to be a brilliant addition to the clan. If only I could find such a lady, now that I can actually afford a wife. I hope you meant what you said about Cousin Anne, and that you will not try to throw us together.”
“I was quite serious when I said Anne would not make a proper wife for a Firstborn Son; but it would be a tragedy to lose Rosings,” Lord Matlock said, eyeing his younger son.
“Oh, come now, Father,” James said. “Cousin Anne and I would not suit.”
“You have not seen her in years, James. Your opinion might change if you meet again,” the colonel teased.
James harrumphed and sank lower into the sofa. He much preferred being a silent participant when it came to conversations such as these.
Darcy was anxious to return to Elizabeth, and insisted they rejoin the ladies after the first round of port.
***
“William, you have excellent timing!” Georgiana called as the gentlemen entered the room. “We were just trying to convince Elizabeth to play for us. Perhaps you may be more successful.”
Darcy smiled and moved beside Elizabeth. “If I recall correctly, Miss Elizabeth, you promised you would play for me again if I asked very nicely.”
Elizabeth raised her chin. “And, if I recall correctly, sir, that was the day I learned from your relations that you are quite the accomplished musician yourself. I have as yet seen no proof of this claim. Perhaps you should entertain us this evening.”
“I believe a compromise might be reached—I would be honored to play a duet.”
“Unrehearsed?” Elizabeth cried with mock outrage. “Dare we subject your family to such a performance?”
“It would be quite diverting,” Lady Anne said, exchanging a mischievous smile with her daughter. Lady Matlock, Amelia Fitzwilliam, and Colonel Fitzwilliam also voiced their support of the scheme.
Elizabeth laughed. “It appears, Mr. Darcy, we are quite outnumbered. We had best surrender.”
Georgiana clasped her hands together in excitement. “I know just what you should play!”
She excused herself to go to the music room and then returned several minutes later with sheet music. She presented it to Elizabeth who, upon seeing the selection, was overcome with emotion. Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes. To sing such a duet with Mr. Darcy in front of his family was certainly an intimidating prospect.
Elizabeth and Darcy took their places at the pianoforte. Elizabeth began the first line, only to have Darcy join her a few measures in. Darcy sang with a rich baritone, and Elizabeth shivered as his voice filled her senses, singing the romantic words with genuine emotion. Had she not been forced to pay attention to the music and her playing, she would have seen the depth of emotion in Darcy’s eyes as he serenaded her. Her own voice joined in on the next verse. As they sang together, Elizabeth forgot their captive audience. All that mattered was she could now openly profess her feelings for the man at her side, in a way not allowed in public.
The rest of the family watched in awe, for the two musicians were the perfect counterpart to each other. The listeners felt the emotion behind the lyrics. It was an intimate performance to behold, and deeply moving. If any of them had doubted the couple’s mutual affection, it would be impossible to do so after witnessing such a display.
The audience stood and applauded when the performance ended. Elizabeth and Darcy clasped hands and bowed in unison. Elizabeth then insisted Georgiana play a lively Scottish air so they might enjoy a dance.
Georgiana happily obliged and the rest of the evening was spent dancing reels. Each of the ladies danced with each of the gentlemen in turn, and Elizabeth swore she had never enjoyed dancing more.
***
George Darcy set aside the letter just received from Lady Catherine. Its contents only further confirmed his belief that his son’s marriage to Elizabeth Bennet would have disastrous consequences for the clan. He was more than amenable to the plan his sister-in-law proposed. He composed a response.
My dear Catherine,
I agree we must take action to prevent the match in question. I fear this will be more difficult than we first imagined. It appears he is deeply in love with the girl, and that her motives are, at least in part, inspired by actual affection. They are now engaged. In a fortnight I will send them to you at Rosings, along with Richard, James, Georgiana, and Amelia. Your plan is acceptable, and no doubt will be successful in crushing William’s love for Elizabeth.
Regards,
George Darcy
The door of his study opened. George sealed the letter with hot wax and did not bother to look up to see who had entered his domain. In a moment he felt his wife’s hand on his shoulder.
“Is this where you have been hiding all this time, my dearest?”
“I have no intention of humoring our son’s ridiculous match. I went to Miss Bennet last night in hopes of making her see reason, but she defied my wishes and accepted William’s foolish proposal.”
“Oh, George, if you had shared your intentions with me, I could have spared you the effort and told you it would not succeed.”
“And what, pray, do you mean by that?”
“William and Elizabeth are truly in love. Had you spent the rest of the evening with us, you would have seen it. She is a good person, and for the first time in his life, our son is truly happy. Why would you wish to stand in the way of that?”
“William must marry Anne. Our clan cannot lose Rosings. If our son had the good sense to fall for an equally dowered heiress, I could perhaps have accepted his choice; but Elizabeth Bennet is little more than a pauper. Her father may own his estate, but they have no connections, no wealth.”
Lady Anne frowned. “You are truly lost to me if you believe wealth and connections are all that matter in this world. Do you truly wish your son to spend an eternity married to someone he does not love, who will never love him in return—all for the sake of Catherine’s estate? Am I to understand that if not for the fact that my father was an earl and a Firstborn Son, you would not have chosen me as your Eternal Partner?”
“Our marriage was different, Anne. I was not already promised, however implicitly, to another. I gave Catherine my word Fitzwilliam would marry Anne. He is her only hope for a good match. Any other man would abuse her and bankrupt Rosings.”
“Your concern for your niece would give you credit, but I know you, George. This match has never been desired by anyone but yourself and Catherine, and so help me, if you try to force William to bend to your will, I will never forgive you.”
The week at Pemberley that followed was the happiest of Elizabeth’s life. Every day Darcy showed her some beautiful spot on the grounds, and their outings often included an intimate interlude in some secluded place. She played the pianoforte with Georgiana. The Fitzwilliams entertained her with family stories. At night, she and Darcy Hunted together. Every moment was precious because she was with the man she loved. She had never imagined being this happy.
The only pall over Elizabeth and Darcy’s happiness was George Darcy, and he was not a man to be challenged. Each time he joined the family in the drawing room or dining room, he was openly rude to Elizabeth, despite the fact that the others always came to her defense.
Darcy was certain his father was up to some scheme or other, and this suspicion was furthered when he entered the breakfast room one morning.
“William, I have just received a letter from your Aunt Catherine. She has extended an invitation to you and Miss Bennet—as well as your cousins—to come to Rosings. She tells me Mrs. Collins, the wife of her rector, is quite eager to see Miss Bennet again. I took the liberty of accepting the invitation on your behalf.”
Darcy rose. “We cannot abandon Mother to do all the wedding planning herself. Other clan members will be arriving soon from abroad and will expect to meet Elizabeth. You would have us slight the rest of our clan for a whim of Lady Catherine’s? She and Anne should rather journey north.”
“Nonsense. You will spend a week at Rosings, and Catherine and Anne will join you on the journey home.”
Lady Anne laid a hand on her son’s arm. “Just make the visit, William. It will be better to break the news to her in person.”
Darcy conceded to his mother’s wisdom, but the look of satisfaction on his father’s face made him decidedly uncomfortable. His father and aunt were plotting something.
***
Darcy found Elizabeth in the library later that day. She sat curled in one of the chairs beside the fire, with a book of sonnets in her lap. She glanced up when he entered, a bright smile crossing her features.
“Where have you been today, William? I thought we were going to walk to the lake.”
“I was making preparations for our trip to Rosings, with Richard. I wish we did not have to go. Lady Catherine’s company will be far more unpleasant than my father’s. Not to mention there is that ridiculous parson.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I will agree with you that spending time with my cousin is not my idea of pleasant, but I did promise Charlotte I would visit her. I suppose it shows Lady Catherine is considerate—at least where it concerns her rector and his wife.”
Darcy crossed the room to stand beside Elizabeth. He laid a hand on her shoulder and absently began to caress the delicate flesh at the base of her neck.
Elizabeth smiled up at him. “Whatever unpleasantness Rosings may have in store for us, we will endure it together.”
Darcy saw the wisdom of Elizabeth’s words, and knew there was nothing he could say to truly prepare her for meeting Lady Catherine. Instead, he glanced at the book she was holding.
“Are you fond of Shakespeare?”
“I would be a poor English lady if I were not,” Elizabeth said.
“Then I believe you might be interested in our collection of first editions.” He took her hand and brought her to the bookshelf between two windows.
Elizabeth gazed in awe at the collection of all Shakespeare’s works. She took one of the volumes in hand and saw it was signed by the Bard himself.
“How did you get these?” Elizabeth asked.
“William Shakespeare was given the honor of going through the Immortal Rite by Queen Elizabeth, after he delighted her with one of his plays. One of the many members of the Darcy Clan had the honor of being in Her Majesty’s retinue, procured these editions, and had them signed. It is my understanding this lady had a dalliance with him once, and that she was the inspiration for Viola.”
“You have a fascinating family history, William. It this muse still alive?”
“No. Her Eternal Partner set her aside and she was banished from his clan. She journeyed to France in the eighteenth century and did not return.”
“Poor lady. It would be a terrible fate to be abandoned by one’s Eternal Partner.”
“You need never worry about such a fate,” Darcy promised, wrapping his arm around her.
“Never say never, William,” Elizabeth said. “But I do believe I am far too stubborn to allow you to leave me without a fight.”
“I am happy to hear it, my love, as I would do the very same.”
“It is fortunate for us we have moved past the point of running from each other, is it not?”
The statement was rewarded with a kiss, and soon enough, everything else was forgotten.
***
The following day, Elizabeth, Darcy, Georgiana and the Fitzwilliams set out for Rosings. The journey was passed in a dull manner. None of the travelers were particularly looking forward to visiting Lady Catherine, and the journey was made out of obligation rather than pleasure.
The carriages arrived at Rosings in the middle of the afternoon on the fourth day of travel. The housekeeper informed Darcy that her mistress had elected to await their arrival indoors rather than subject the delicate constitution of her daughter to the elements. It was the first insult in a series of many. The party was led to the drawing room.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh perched regally on a chaise. Anne de Bourgh was being fanned by her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson. The ladies of the house did not rise to greet their guests.
“I suppose that is Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine said with an imperious tone. “Come closer, child.”
Darcy held fast to Elizabeth’s hand, as if that could protect her from his aunt.
“No, not you, Fitzwilliam. Miss Bennet, come sit by me.”
Elizabeth felt oddly compelled to comply. Lady Catherine scrutinized her.
“You are tolerable, I suppose, but nothing compared to my darling Anne. I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Mr. Collins has told me a great deal about you and your family. In light of familial harmony, I was persuaded to invite you to stay at Rosings; but upon meeting you, I fear you simply do not belong here. I am sure Mrs. Collins will take you in at the parsonage. It is a much more appropriate place for a lady such as yourself. In any case, it is most improper for an engaged couple to remain under the same roof, and I will not allow it in my home.”
“Aunt Catherine, I will not allow you to speak to Elizabeth in such an insulting manner. She is an invited guest and will remain here, or we will depart immediately.”
Lady Catherine rose and moved to stand directly in front of her nephew.
“As I have just explained, I will not allow any improprieties at Rosings. Miss Bennet may stay at the parsonage or she may return to Longbourn. It makes little difference to me. As she is your intended, she will be welcome to visit this house as long as she is accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Collins who, as her only family in the county, will serve as her chaperones.”
“Mama,” a mousy voice whispered, “this is unnecessary.”
“Hush, Anne,” Lady Catherine snapped.
A queer, foggy expression took hold of Anne de Bourgh’s features and she fell silent.
“Aunt Catherine, this is ridiculous,” the colonel declared.
“Richard, the fact that you have gone through the Immortal Rite does not give you the right to speak to me thusly in my own home. Miss Bennet will stay at the parsonage and that is the end of it.” Lady Catherine’s voice brooked no argument.
“I believe, madam, nothing would give me greater pleasure, and I thank you for preemptively considering my wish to visit my close friend Mrs. Collins.” She curtsied and left the room.
Lady Catherine appeared quite put out by this response, and was dismayed that her nephews had not listened to her as her daughter had.
Darcy left the room in pursuit of Elizabeth.
He found her waiting outside in the garden. He took her in his arms, not caring who might observe them.
“Elizabeth, allow me to apologize on behalf of my aunt. We may return to Pemberley tomorrow if you wish.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I truly do wish to visit with Charlotte, and I would rather stay where I am welcome. It is only a week. I will not allow your aunt’s disapproval to ruin my first time in Kent. Now, would you escort me to the parsonage?”
The reception at the parsonage was far warmer than the one Elizabeth had received at Rosings. Charlotte embraced her dear friend and then welcomed the couple into her small but well-kept sitting room.
“Elizabeth, I am so glad you have come and that you will be spending your time in Kent here with us.”
“Rosings is a fine house, but I find the mistress of the parsonage far more agreeable company,” Elizabeth said with a pert smile. “I only wish the rest of my party could have such fortunate accommodations.”
Charlotte laughed. “Do not let my husband hear you say that, Lizzy. To Mr. Collins, Lady Catherine can do no wrong.” She lowered her voice, even though Mr. Collins was presently in the garden and had failed to appear to greet his guests. “I wonder if such a generous opinion is shared by Lady Catherine’s own family members. Mr. Darcy, would you care to offer your opinion?”
Darcy was still unaccustomed to being teased, but if his time with Elizabeth had taught him anything, it was that she delighted in seeing his more playful side. In an equally low voice, he said, “I believe we would be here all day and night if I shared with you all the instances in which Lady Catherine did do wrong—and very likely longer.”
“Why, Mr. Darcy, I am shocked!” cried Elizabeth, her eyes sparkling. Inadvertently, she took his hand.
This casual gesture of affection was not unnoticed by Charlotte. Indeed, she anticipated quite an enlightening conversation with her friend after Darcy departed.
Darcy would have liked to stay at the parsonage longer, but he suspected that the later he returned, the more difficult his aunt’s behavior would become. So it was with a heavy heart he bid adieu to Elizabeth. He thanked heaven for Mrs. Collins’ generous decision to give them a few moments alone for a private farewell.
“One day very soon, we will not have to part at night,” Darcy said.
“That day cannot come soon enough for me. I shall miss you, William.”
“And I you,” he said, before kissing her tenderly. “I will not easily forgive my aunt for her incivility. She owes you her respect.”
“Try not to dwell on it. To Lady Catherine, I am the one who stole her daughter’s betrothed. It does not excuse her actions, but we need not give her the satisfaction of ruining our happiness.”
“You are very wise, my love. I shall try to adopt some of your philosophy.” He kissed her hand before leaving the room.
A few moments later Charlotte entered, very much resembling the cat who drank all the cream.
“Lizzy, so much has changed. Engaged to Mr. Darcy! When my husband told me, I thought he was joking. For even though I always suspected Darcy was in love with you, I knew how much you disliked him.”
“Oh, come now,” Elizabeth said, “this is a wretched beginning indeed. I was counting on you to verify inquiries from our friends and neighbors in Hertfordshire. I am sure nobody else will believe me, if you do not. Yet indeed, it is true. I love him and happily accepted his proposal.”
“If I had known you would be in love with Mr. Darcy—and engaged no less! —when you came to visit me, I still would have not believed it possible had I not seen the two of you together just now. I would struggle to give credit to the idea.” Charlotte smiled warmly. “I do congratulate you, Lizzy. It is a most excellent match, and I hope you will be very happy together.”
“We ought to be, for we both are too stubborn to allow any other outcome.”
Charlotte followed the retort with an entreaty to be serious.
Elizabeth complied and spent the remainder of the evening telling Charlotte all that had occurred since they last met.
Charlotte, in truth, was rather smug afterwards, having predicted that Elizabeth and Darcy would come to an understanding.
By the time Darcy returned to Rosings, his aunt had conveniently retired for the evening. The rest of her family was grateful for the reprieve—especially those newly-arrived—and took the opportunity to spend the evening doing as they pleased.
Darcy chose to return to his room rather than seek out any of his family members. He resolved to speak with Lady Catherine about her treatment of Elizabeth first thing in the morning. It would not be pleasant, but if the conclusion was not satisfactory, Darcy would return to Pemberley with Elizabeth without delay.
An inquiry to the housekeeper the following morning led to the discovery that his aunt had an early morning meeting with her parson. The odious Mr. Collins had been blessedly absent from the parsonage last evening, and Darcy had hoped he would not be forced into his company too soon.
He was, however, to be disappointed, for only a moment later the man himself appeared, exiting from Lady Catherine’s study.
“Oh, Mr. Darcy, I understand congratulations are in order. Your aunt has just informed me of your engagement. You succeeded where I failed. My fair cousin would have made me an excellent wife, but I suppose the richer man won. It was very clever of my cousin to ensnare you. How I shall delight in evicting the family of fortune hunters when Mr. Bennet is dead.”
Darcy’s fingers curled into a fist.
Mr. Collins gave him a snide smile. “Tread carefully, Mr. Darcy. You are a guest in your esteemed aunt’s home, but I believe you are far from being in her good graces at the moment. I bid you good day.” He bowed low before taking his leave.
Darcy took a deep breath in an effort to calm himself. Mr. Collins was simply an annoyance. The real adversary was behind that door, and Darcy would need to have his wits about him to defeat her.
Lady Catherine was sipping a glass of Blood Wine when Darcy entered the study.
“Fitzwilliam, what on earth could bring you to disturb me first thing in the morning?”
“Had you not retired early, we could have had this conversation last night,” Darcy said curtly.
“I had no idea how late you would be at the parsonage. Having just spoken to Mr. Collins, I understand Miss Bennet is quite accustomed to keeping gentlemen in her boudoir until the wee hours of the morning. It is a marvel she has not already tricked some other well-to-do gentleman into offering for her, but I suppose these other men were not rich enough to tempt her.”
Darcy had never contemplated striking a woman before this moment.
“I will not hear another word against Elizabeth. She is my fiancée and in a few weeks, she will become my Eternal Partner. If you insist on remaining vindictive about my refusal to marry your daughter, I swear you will never see me again, and you will never be admitted at Pemberley.”
Lady Catherine smiled broadly. “She must have immense power over you, my dear boy. I have never seen you so rattled. In any case, I could never be Disinvited from Pemberley. Do you truly believe your noble father will declare you his heir if you decide to set my daughter aside and go through with your marriage to Miss Bennet?”
“The law is on my side. I have no concerns about my inheritance. As for my engagement to my cousin Anne, I never agreed to it, nor did I ever make her an offer. If you bothered to consult your daughter’s feelings, you would know she has no desire for the match either. You have spent almost three decades hoping for an impossible union. Now you must accept reality. Elizabeth Bennet will be my wife. Furthermore, you will never be acknowledged by the members of our clan that still reside in England.”
“How dare you make such a threat! You do not have the power to make me an outcast in our clan.”
“You are delusional if you think our family will side with you,” Darcy declared. “You are no longer liked or respected amongst the majority of our clan. It would not trouble them in the slightest to never see you again.” While Darcy could not speak for every clan member, he was certain of the veracity behind his threat.
Lady Catherine was silent for several minutes. She crossed the room and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“If you can prove to me that Miss Bennet is not a fortune hunter, then perhaps I will support this union and treat the girl with respect. However, if you cannot, I will do everything in my power to ruin her reputation and make her unmarriageable. You will then be forced to uphold my wish for you to marry your cousin.”
Darcy did not have the patience to humor this ultimatum.
“Elizabeth Bennet is no fortune hunter. If I hear so much as a word against her from you for the remainder of this visit, you will live to regret it.”
***
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was unaccustomed to not getting her own way. It came as a nasty shock when her attempt to Enthrall her nephew failed. The only explanation she could imagine was that Miss Bennet had herself Enthralled Darcy. After all, neither a mortal nor a vampire could be Enthralled by two vampires at the same time. It did not occur to her to remember that her ability had never worked on her nephew, and was the very reason she had resorted to Enthralling his father instead. No. All the blame must be placed on that trollop, Elizabeth Bennet. Lady Catherine would defame the girl as soon as possible.
With that aim in mind, she sent for Mr. Collins again. He arrived in a timely fashion, as any servant should.
“Mr. Collins, you wish for me to be happy, do you not?”
Mr. Collins bowed low. “More than anything, my lady.”
“And you value my wishes more than those of your own family?”
“Naturally,” Mr. Collins simpered. “I will do anything in my power to please you.”
Lady Catherine smiled. It was precisely the response she had anticipated. She leaned over and whispered her plan into her parson’s ear. Had he been capable, he would have turned very red indeed.
“You will finally be able to repay her for refusing you,” Lady Catherine said, as she drew away.
“You are brilliant, Lady Catherine. I only wish I had had a mother willing to do anything to ensure my future. Miss de Bourgh is the most fortunate daughter in all of England.”
“She is indeed. I will not rest until my darling Anne is the mistress of Pemberley.”
***
Darcy returned to Rosings after spending the day with Elizabeth at the parsonage. His aunt had failed to invite the Collinses and Elizabeth to dine with them, which Darcy knew was deliberate. He regretted their coming to Rosings in the first place.
His only consolation was that Elizabeth was happy to see Mrs. Collins. However, when Elizabeth next wished to see her friend, Mrs. Collins would be invited to stay at Pemberley. Darcy very much doubted that he and Elizabeth would continue his tradition of annual visits to Rosings after they were married.
After a family dinner dominated by Lady Catherine’s unwanted opinions, his aunt asked for a private conference with Darcy.
Colonel Fitzwilliam wished him luck before Darcy reluctantly followed his aunt into her study.
“What is it you have to say now, Aunt Catherine?”
“There is no need to use such a tone with me, Fitzwilliam. After much deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I may have been mistaken about Miss Bennet. I suppose it was unfair of me to judge her without spending any real time in her company. To that end, you will bring her to me tonight so that objective may be accomplished in private, without interference from the rest of our family. I have already sent a note to the Mr. Collins. Social calls are highly unusual at this hour, but what is the point of having my status if I cannot break the rules as I see fit? You should go now. I am most impatient to meet with her.”
***
Meanwhile, Elizabeth was sitting in a chair by the fire with an open book on her lap. She hoped reading might distract her from missing Darcy, but that had proved unsuccessful. Elizabeth had not anticipated how difficult it would be to be separated from him, and she admittedly felt rather silly missing a man who was only a short distance away, and whom she would see in the morning. It occurred to her that she may have taken for granted the joy of residing in the same household with the man she loved. She would not do so once they returned to Pemberley.
Elizabeth heard the front door open. Charlotte was already abed, so Elizabeth suspected it was Mr. Collins. She had only seen him twice in the course of her visit, and each time only for a few moments, which was a blessing in itself. Charlotte had confided there were some days when she rarely saw her husband at all, which suited her quite well. He was devoted to Lady Catherine, and spent nearly every moment either with her or working to please her.
Elizabeth could not imagine living such a separate life from one’s husband, but Charlotte seemed quite content with her situation. Elizabeth could hardly blame her—Mr. Collins remained insufferable. She frowned when he entered the room a moment later.
“Cousin Elizabeth,” he said, bowing low. “I have been an abysmal host. I have been neglecting you.”
Elizabeth stifled a laugh. What normally would have been viewed as incivility, she viewed as a blessing.
“Do not trouble yourself by feeling guilty in your neglect, sir. I have been quite content in my short stay here, and I do not need any special attention. I would hate to distract you from your patroness or your parishioners.”
“You are truly magnanimous, Cousin Elizabeth, but I cannot help feel that I have erred. I intend to ameliorate it now. In truth, there is a particular reason behind my avoiding your company, although I hesitate to own it.”
Humoring Mr. Collins was as good a distraction as any. Elizabeth gravely assured him she could be trusted with his secret.
Mr. Collins closed the sitting room door. “Very well. With my dear wife abed, I suppose we have nothing to fear. I have longed to taste your sweet lips.”
Elizabeth was taken aback by his words, and suddenly felt the urge to bolt. Of course, Mr. Collins was blocking her only route of escape.
He took her hand and said, “Charlotte is a respectable woman, but I made a sacrifice in offering for her. I doomed myself to an eternity without passion or love. Surely you understand why I found it difficult to spend time with you whilst in her company.”
Elizabeth tried to break away, but he tightened his grip.
“I am afraid, sir, I do not have the privilege of understanding you.”
Mr. Collins moved closer. “There is no need to be missish. Surely you know you are the only woman I want.”
Elizabeth’s skin began to crawl. “I am engaged, Mr. Collins; and more importantly, you are a married man. I must excuse myself.”
“Your loyalty is to be admired, but I cannot allow you to leave until I have said my piece. Mr. Darcy need never find out, and I assure you my wife is a deep sleeper.” He wrapped his arms around her and proceeded to express his desires in a most alarming manner.
***
Darcy waited a moment after ringing the bell at the parsonage. He heard no approaching footsteps from within and suddenly felt something was terribly wrong. A sense of urgency compelled him to enter the house. He heard scuffling sounds coming from the parlor, and urgency was replaced with panic. He attempted to open the door, but found it locked. Without thinking, he kicked the door open, only to view a disturbing tableau—Elizabeth, dress torn from her shoulders, in the arms of Mr. Collins.
The parson quickly stepped away, looking rather pleased with himself.
Darcy felt a bestial urge to snap the man’s neck, and damn the consequences.
“William, please, this is not what it appears to be. He—”
Mr. Collins did not allow Elizabeth to finish. “Mr. Darcy, I hoped you would never bear witness to your fiancée’s infidelity, but I am afraid a passion such as ours cannot be contained. She was quite persistent in her advances, and we could not help but indulge our baser urges.”
Darcy was in too much pain to question the parson’s declaration. Without a second glance at either of them, he retreated, feeling broken beyond repair. After all he had endured since meeting Elizabeth Bennet, he had finally felt confident he had earned her love. He had been a blind fool.
***
“You cannot leave this house, Cousin Elizabeth. The damage is done,” Mr. Collins declared. “By tomorrow, every person at Rosings will know you are nothing more than a fortune hunting whore, and you will be forced to return to Hertfordshire in disgrace.”
Elizabeth shoved him aside with a strength that surprised even her. All that mattered was finding Darcy and explaining the truth. She could not deny the scene had been damning. Elizabeth felt his pain like a lance through her unbeating heart, which only increased her own distress. She rushed from the house with preternatural speed, hoping to reunite with Darcy. When she tried to push open the iron gate to Rosings, she was instantly repelled. There was only one explanation: she had been Disinvited.
She called out Darcy’s name with no small amount of urgency, but her appeal went unanswered. Elizabeth sank to her knees and allowed the tears she had been holding back to flow freely. Darcy was inside Rosings, heartbroken and thinking the worst of her. She could imagine no greater injustice—she was powerless to go to him and assure him of her love.
Both Elizabeth and Darcy spent the night in agony, but Darcy’s suffering was far worse for he did not know the truth. He slumped in the chair in his room at Rosings, a bottle each of Blood Wine and port in front of him. It was difficult for a vampire to over imbibe, but that had not stopped him from trying. Halfway into each bottle, Darcy realized there was no power on earth that could make him forget Elizabeth’s betrayal. Even worse, he still wanted her. His eternal life would be empty without her. If he had to forgive this small indiscretion to keep her, he would do it. Still, he hesitated to return to the parsonage. The thought of facing Elizabeth only to hear that she loved another man—and that it could be someone as oafish and stupid as Mr. Collins—was unbearable. So he stayed in his room until the sun rose, taking comfort in the blood and spirits and blocking his Sire Bond with Elizabeth so he need not bear experiencing the slightest glimpse of what she might be feeling.
***
Lady Catherine swept into the dining room, confident her scheme had been successful. When Darcy was not at the table, her suspicions were confirmed.
“My dear family,” Catherine said, as she sat down at the head of the table, “I am afraid I have some news.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, who sat next to her, said, “Is something the matter with Anne?”
“No,” Lady Catherine said. “Indeed, I expect this week will be the happiest of her life.”
Amelia Fitzwilliam looked at her aunt shrewdly.
“Georgiana and I spent much of yesterday with Anne, and she did not mention any source of particular happiness.”
Perhaps it should have bothered Lady Catherine to hear that her daughter was unhappy, but she had long ago stopped concerning herself with her daughter’s feelings.
“Anne does not know, and this intelligence cannot wait, for it will be a scandal soon enough. Darcy’s engagement to Miss Bennet is broken. I received the most alarming missive from my parson, Mr. Collins. He was mortified to tell me that Miss Bennet accosted him in the middle of the night and declared her love for him. And then she kissed him, after promising Fitzwilliam would never find out.”
“I do not believe it,” cried the colonel. “Miss Bennet is a lady of honor; and having met your parson, I can say with certainty she would never fall in love with him.”
Georgiana added, “Really, Aunt Catherine, there must be some misunderstanding. My brother and Miss Bennet are deeply in love.”
Lady Catherine glared at her niece, who fell silent from the intensity of the expression.
“My dear Georgiana, you are as blind as your brother. From the moment Miss Bennet set foot in my house, I knew she was a fortune hunter—and now we have proof. We must come together as a family in this trying time.”
She laid her hand on Richard’s and said, “My dear nephew, you must convince Fitzwilliam to put the little chit behind him and honor his promise to Anne. He will listen to you.”
It gave Lady Catherine great joy when Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had always been against the match with Anne, said, “Of course, I will.” In normal circumstances, Lady Catherine would have not been so bold as to use her Thrall in front of others, but the rest of her family was ignorant of her abilities, and all were too shocked by the news to notice the peculiar exchange.
Or so she thought. Had she been more observant in her moment of triumph, Lady Catherine would have noticed that while Richard Fitzwilliam was successfully Enthralled and now believed her claims, her niece Amelia did not.
***
The room fell silent when Darcy entered. He had no doubt the idiotic parson had informed his aunt of Elizabeth’s indiscretion moments after it occurred. His suspicions were confirmed by the broad grin on her face.
Darcy crossed the room to his cousin and informed him they would leave Rosings as soon as the carriages could be prepared. He was surprised when the colonel said they should keep their promise and stay the full week. His cousin had never been in favor of long visits to Rosings.
Lady Catherine rose and put her hand on Darcy’s shoulder.
“Oh, my poor dear boy,” she said, in an unnatural tone of voice, for she was not accustomed to comforting others. “You need not curtail your visit. I have made arrangements to have that unfaithful Bennet girl sent back to her home. Mrs. Collins will accompany her. You will never have to see her again.”
No, no, no. The word repeated rhythmically in his head. He could not lose Elizabeth now.
“Georgiana and I will return to Pemberley. My cousins may choose to remain if they wish,” Darcy said with finality.
He moved to leave the room but was stopped by the sound of his cousin Amelia’s voice.
“William, I am feeling rather faint, and I believe a turn around the garden for some fresh air would do me some good. Would you join me?”
Darcy was not in the mood for company at this moment, but the serious look on his cousin’s face convinced him to agree. Amelia rose and took his proffered arm.
Once they were out of the house, Amelia said, “William, I am sorry for what has happened, but I have to believe there is some sort of misunderstanding. Aunt Catherine was far too happy when she told us about the events of last night.”
“Amelia, I saw Elizabeth in Mr. Collins’ arms with my own eyes.”
“And is that not unbelievable in itself? I have only known Miss Elizabeth for a short time, but I know she loves you. And that ridiculous Mr. Collins could never come between the two of you. Let us go to the parsonage and sort this out.”
Darcy did not admit to his cousin that this was precisely his plan.
Amelia continued. “Did you see how strange Richard acted when you told him we needed to depart?”
“I did.”
“Before Aunt Catherine touched him, he did not believe a word she said, and then suddenly, he was agreeing with her. You know what that means.”
“That is a very serious accusation, Amelia,” Darcy said. “If Aunt Catherine truly had the ability to Enthrall people, she would have compelled me to marry Anne years ago.”
Amelia laughed. “Oh, William, you are far too stubborn and strong-willed to be Enthralled. George Wickham could never do it, nor could our Aunt Catherine. Surely you have noticed how Aunt Catherine always gets what she wants and how people seem to do what she wishes, no matter how ridiculous.”
It was a fair point.
“I would not be surprised if Aunt Catherine Enthralled her parson and ordered him to compromise Elizabeth—all in the name of your farcical engagement to our cousin Anne. Come. We must go to the parsonage. You and Elizabeth must reconcile, and then we should get as far from Rosings as possible—tonight.”
With that, Amelia took Darcy by the hand and began to drag him towards the parsonage.
***
Elizabeth had not slept at all. Her mind kept replaying the horrifying incident with Mr. Collins. The look of heartbreak and betrayal on Darcy’s face when he entered the room may as well have been a stake through her heart. She had purposefully missed breakfast so she would not have to face either of her hosts—Mr. Collins because of his disgraceful actions, and her dearest friend Charlotte because of what her husband had attempted. It did not matter that Elizabeth had been successful in pushing him away. The scene was damning enough. And who here would believe her over Mr. Collins?
Now she sat alone in the garden for she could no longer confine herself to the sitting room. Mr. Collins was blessedly at the church, and Charlotte was calling on tenants. Elizabeth was surprised when the maid entered the garden and announced that Darcy and Miss Fitzwilliam were awaiting her in the sitting room.
Relief flooded Elizabeth. Surely Mr. Darcy would not have come if he had stopped loving her. She practically ran into the house, hoping to salvage her relationship with the man who had come to mean so much to her.
Amelia Fitzwilliam greeted her briefly before excusing herself. Her efforts to give Elizabeth and Darcy privacy were far from subtle, but Elizabeth was grateful for them. Darcy stood in front of the mantle. The look on his face was enough to reassure her that their future was not ruined, but she owed him an explanation and reassurances of her love.
“William,” Elizabeth said, unable to keep her voice from quaking, “I am so sorry. Mr. Collins did try to take liberties with me last night, but he did not succeed; and I certainly did not encourage it. You are the only man I have ever loved, and I could not bear to have you believe I would ever want to be with another.”
Tears trickled down her face, and for a moment neither of them spoke. Elizabeth feared for the barest moment that Darcy might not believe her. It was a shameful spark of doubt that was extinguished seconds later when he took her in his arms. She leaned into him, finally feeling safe.
Darcy wiped away her tears with his handkerchief.
“I too must apologize, my love. I should not have left as I did. I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am for causing you pain. I should have had more faith.”
Elizabeth cupped his cheek with her hand.
“Hear this now, Fitzwilliam Darcy. I love you, and nothing will ever change that. I want to begin our Eternal Lives together.” Then she kissed him, expressing all the sentiments that words could not. His arms tightened around her and she pressed herself against him, taking comfort in his presence and steadfastness.
“I love you more and more each day, Elizabeth,” Darcy said after they drew apart. “From now, until I am dust, that will never change.”
Elizabeth was deeply moved by his declaration, and she believed as long as they had each other, there was no challenge they could not overcome.
Their moment of bliss was interrupted by frantic knocks at the door. Amelia entered the sitting room, cheeks flushed, breathing hard.
“Aunt Catherine is coming, along with the Collinses and my brothers. There is no telling what she may have told them, or what they may do.”
Elizabeth turned to Amelia. “What do you mean?”
“I believe Lady Catherine has the ability to Enthrall others. Having heard Aunt Catherine’s take on the incident last night, I believe Mr. Collins was acting under the influence of her Thrall. She will be angry that her scheme was unsuccessful.”
“I can handle our aunt. By Enthralling other vampires, she has broken the Dictates. She tried to ruin the reputation of the lady I love, and that will not stand. If she does not repent, I will not hesitate to report her to the courts, and I will certainly report her to the clan.”
Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “Do not worry, my love. I will protect you. I will not allow my aunt to harm you.”
“I know, William. She can no longer come between us.”
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, I demand you renounce that fortune hunter! Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?” Lady Catherine shouted as she burst into the sitting room of the parsonage, followed by the Fitzwilliam brothers and the Collinses. Richard, James, and Mr. Collins all were glassy-eyed. Charlotte, however, moved to stand in front of Elizabeth.
“Lady Catherine, I must beg you be civil to my guests under my roof. Surely this must be some misunderstanding.”
Lady Catherine pushed Charlotte out of the way with alarming force.
“James, escort Mrs. Collins to the carriage. She will accompany Miss Bennet back into Hertfordshire.”
James followed his aunt’s bidding.
Darcy stepped between his aunt and Elizabeth. “Elizabeth is not returning to Hertfordshire. We are returning to Pemberley.”
“You will do no such thing. I know it all. Elizabeth Bennet is a little harlot who will ruin our clan forever. You will marry Anne, and Miss Bennet will have to rely upon the charity of relatives, for I will ensure her reputation is ruined. Richard, take the little whore to the carriage.”
Richard moved to follow his aunt’s orders, but was stopped by a new arrival.
“Mama, you will lift your Thrall or I will put a stake through your heart, with God as my witness.”
Anne de Bourgh, no longer appearing weak and submissive, entered the room bearing a large silver cross and a stake.
“Anne, you will return home. I am ensuring your future.”
“Your Thrall will not work on me any longer, Mama! I discovered the truth in a letter you had written to my uncle. You have been using your Thrall on him for years. You sought to ruin the life of an innocent young lady and your own nephew, all so he and I would be forced to marry and live out an unhappy eternity. And why? So, you could have Pemberley and Rosings. It is despicable and I will not stand for it. Lift your Thrall on these three or so help me, I will make use of this stake.”
“You would not stake your own mother,” Lady Catherine declared.
“You kept me from living my own life for twenty-eight years. I was never allowed to make my own choices. I only ever did what you bid me. Now all of that is over.”
Anne advanced towards her mother, holding the stake high.
Lady Catherine balked. Her scheme was discovered for now, but she could not get her own way if she were turned to dust. She waved her hand.
“Oh, very well. Now put that stake down.”
“Not until you promise me you will leave Fitzwilliam and Miss Bennet alone—and that you will move into the dower house.”
“I will not move into the dower house! You are not yet married. You have not endured the Rites. Until that has come to pass, I am still the mistress of Rosings.”
“Fitzwilliam, do you suppose the clan will allow my mother to be the mistress of Rosings once they learn of her treachery?”
Darcy, who had been watching the scene unfold with rapt attention, was startled to be addressed.
“They would cast her out. I am intent on reporting all that has happened here, even if you do not, Anne.”
Lady Catherine glowered at him. If looks could kill, Darcy felt certain he would be no more than a pile of ashes.
“So, you see, Mama, it will be much worse for you if you do not move into the dower house. I suggest you return to Rosings and have your things packed. It will be your staff’s last task, for tomorrow I will hire new servants that will be loyal to me. Go quietly, and I will see to it our clan does not report you to the courts.”
Anne folded her arms and glanced at Darcy. “Is that acceptable to you, Fitzwilliam?”
“Indeed. We shall not burden you in this time of transition, and will depart posthaste.”
Lady Catherine, recognizing she had been defeated, swept out of the room with Mr. Collins closely in tow—she had never needed a Thrall to coerce Mr. Collins.
Anne smiled. “Excellent, now that this is all settled, I would like to officially welcome Miss Bennet to our clan. It is strange, but if it were not for you, I never would have broken free of my mother. I believe you will be an excellent match for my cousin. He deserves to marry for love.”
Anne embraced Elizabeth who, although surprised by the gesture, was glad Anne did not have any attachment to Darcy, and there would be no bad blood between them.
“Thank you, Miss de Bourgh. I wish you good fortune in taking over Rosings.”
Anne bid adieu to each of her cousins in turn, all now free from her mother’s wretched Thrall.
“I will send your carriages to the parsonage. Georgiana is already prepared to depart, and awaits you.” Then, doing so happily for the first time in her life, she headed back to Rosings.
Charlotte returned to the sitting room a moment later and hastened over to her friend.
“Elizabeth, I hope you will forgive me for the misfortunes you have endured while under my roof. It is much to ask, I know. I will never forgive my husband for all he has done.”
“Charlotte, you have nothing to apologize for. You could not have known.”
“We do not blame you,” Darcy said. “And should it ever come to it, you are welcome at Pemberley if you feel you cannot reside in Kent.”
Elizabeth was touched by Darcy’s desire to protect her friend. He truly was the best man she knew. He was unfailingly generous, kind, and fiercely loyal to those he loved—and that loyalty extended to their loved ones as well. Elizabeth squeezed his hand.
“Truly, Charlotte. If your situation becomes untenable, write to me at Pemberley.”
“There is no need. My time in Kent is about to end. Mr. Collins has already written to my brother. I will return to Lucas Lodge, and Mr. Collins will have our marriage annulled. He declared he could not be married to someone associated with a lady his aunt despised. It is no great loss to me.”
Elizabeth could see her friend was truly accepting of her circumstances. Yet Elizabeth felt guilty all the same, for Charlotte had always wanted her own household above all else.
“Charlotte, I am so sorry for all you have lost.”
Charlotte glanced at Colonel Fitzwilliam with a peculiar expression on her face.
“Fear not, Lizzy. I have faith that all will be well in time. I will see you at Pemberley for your wedding.”
Elizabeth and Charlotte embraced, promising to be faithful correspondents.
***
The journey back to Pemberley was mostly uneventful. Georgiana was happy to focus on her book and sleep, giving Darcy and Elizabeth the opportunity to take comfort in each other.
“Your sister is not the best chaperone,” Elizabeth said, on the second day of the trip. Georgiana was asleep on the other bench of the carriage. Elizabeth was curled into Darcy’s side, feeling at peace.
Darcy chuckled and brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Thank goodness for that. I do not believe I could have tolerated the journey had I not been allowed to hold you and steal kisses.”
“Nor could I,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “I am happy we are returning home.”
Darcy gazed at her, a look of wonder in his dark eyes, then kissed her with unrestrained passion.
She clung to him as he explored her mouth and caressed her. When he drew away, she smiled at him, a little bemused.
“Not that I did not enjoy it, but what was that for?”
“You called Pemberley your home,” Darcy said.
Elizabeth kissed him lightly. “William, as long as I am with you, I am home.”
***
Darcy handed Elizabeth out of the carriage, and then his sister. Georgiana happily joined her cousins in entering the house, but Elizabeth and Darcy remained outdoors.
“What are you going to tell your father?” Elizabeth asked.
“The truth. He needs to be aware. I do not know if it will change his opinion on our union, but at the very least he will be civil.”
“Your father will come around. Do you think he orchestrated the scheme with Lady Catherine, as her letter implied? Do you truly believe he wants you to be unhappy?”
“I am not sure. We have a complicated relationship.”
Elizabeth took his hand. “I hope one day you will be able to share more of your past with me. I want to stand by your side, especially during difficult times.”
Darcy was warmed to the depth of his being to hear those words from Elizabeth.
“You should go to him now,” Elizabeth said.
Darcy knew she was right. “I love you, Elizabeth, and nothing my father might have to say will change that.”
“I know. I love you, too. Now go.”
***
George Darcy was quite surprised when his butler announced his son had returned early from Rosings. He had not yet heard from Lady Catherine, but could only guess her plan had been a success and his son had set Miss Bennet aside.
So when there was a knock on the door, George Darcy bade the visitor to enter.
“Ah, Fitzwilliam, you are here. You were to remain at Rosings until the end of the week.”
“I refuse to be a guest in the home of a person who tried to ruin my life. And now I must ask you—did you conspire with Aunt Catherine to separate me from Elizabeth?”
George Darcy was caught off-guard by the question, for Catherine had assured him his son would never learn of his part in the scheme. Indeed, he did not know the particulars of what his sister-in-law had done, but he did not suppose it was anything he would have objected to.
“I do not have the privilege of understanding you.”
His son glared at him, and removed a sheet of parchment from his pocket. “Perhaps this will refresh your memory, Father. I will not tolerate being lied to.”
George Darcy read the letter quickly before setting it on the desk.
“Do you deny you were complicit in this plot?”
“I do not,” George Darcy replied. “And perhaps you will not believe me, but I did not wish for Catherine to order her parson to assault Miss Bennet. She simply assured me she had a way to force you to marry your cousin.”
“Did you ever suspect Aunt Catherine of possessing a Thrall?”
“Of course not,” George Darcy declared. “Catherine is an imposing woman all on her own. She does not need a Thrall to get what she desires.”
His son handed him a second letter, this one from Anne de Bourgh. It was brief, and after reading it George crumpled the paper in his fist.
“I did not know, son. If I had, her Thrall would never have worked on me.”
“So that is your excuse for your behavior towards my fiancée? For your support of a marriage that I insisted for years would make me miserable?”
“Yes,” he said. “While I still remain unconvinced that Miss Bennet is worthy of joining our clan, I will own that I owe her a chance. Everyone else at Pemberley is charmed by her. Perhaps she will prove me wrong. Does this satisfy you?”
“It will do for the present, as I cannot Disinvite you from Pemberley as I did Aunt Catherine. But I swear to you, if you treat Elizabeth with anything less than respect from this day forward, I will never forgive you.” Then he turned and left the study.
George Darcy was appalled to learn he had been Enthralled for so many years. It was also not in his character to acknowledge his mistakes. However, he knew he was largely to blame for his poor relationship with his son, and perhaps it was time to change that.
***
Darcy left the interview with his father feeling largely unsatisfied. While Darcy supposed he ought to be grateful his father had admitted to his errors, even that victory had been slight. It was not something the man was in the habit of doing. Darcy was well aware of the evils of such a character trait. Before meeting Elizabeth, he had been much the same himself.
He found the rest of his family in the music room, listening as Georgiana played for them. Elizabeth was sitting beside his mother, their heads bent in a whispered conversation. His mother looked up as he approached.
“William, my dear boy, Elizabeth was sharing with me the details of your trip to Rosings. I am very sorry for what you had to endure, but worry not—when the rest of the clan is informed of Catherine’s actions, they will stand by you.”
Darcy gave his mother a grateful smile. He then took a seat by Elizabeth, and his mother generously allowed him to put his arm around his beloved as they listened to Georgiana’s performance.
At dinner, the story of Lady Catherine’s scheme was told to all. Lord and Lady Matlock were astonished. Lord Matlock quickly stated his intent to travel to Rosings to ensure Lady Catherine moved to the dower house, even going so far as to say he would Sire Anne de Bourgh himself if Lady Catherine would not.
“Father, are we obligated to involve the courts?” the colonel asked. “She did break the Dictates.”
Lord Matlock shook his head. “Her offences were against her own clan, and as such, we may choose her punishment. Other clan members will arrive in due time for the wedding, and George and I will consult with them, but my inclination is to make Catherine a pariah rather than sentence her to the stake. However, if she tries to use her Thrall again, I would consider further punishment. What say you, George? You were personally Enthralled.”
“I tend to agree. I believe I was susceptible to her Thrall because I already supported the marriage between my son and Anne de Bourgh. I now see that was a mistake—it would have been an unfortunate union.”
Lady Anne cleared her throat, and her husband looked at her and then turned to Elizabeth and said, “I owe you an apology, Miss Bennet. I do not condone the lengths my sister-in-law went to in order to separate you from my son, but I cannot deny my culpability. I owe you a second chance, although I understand if you feel incapable of granting the same to me.”
“Mr. Darcy, we are to be family; I do not see why we should spend the foreseeable future in conflict.”
“Well put, Elizabeth,” Lady Anne said. “Lady Matlock and I have been working tirelessly on the arrangements for the Eternal Rite and the ball that follows. Have you ever attended an Eternal Rite?”
“I have not had the privilege, madam,” Elizabeth owned.
“Oh, they are beautiful affairs, and I assure you yours will be the best of them all.”
The rest of the evening passed in a pleasant manner. Darcy was overjoyed by his family’s excitement about the upcoming Rite. His own anticipation was unmatched. In a few short weeks he would be Eternally Bonded to the lady he loved. It was a blessing after so much time spent doubting it would happen.
Shortly before midnight, the group dispersed.
Darcy took Elizabeth aside and said, “Would you join me in a Hunt, my love?”
“I would be delighted, so long as the primary objective behind the invitation is time alone with you. The Blood Wine at Pemberley is far more satisfying than what my father was able to acquire at Longbourn.”
“You have caught me, Elizabeth. All I ever wish is to be alone with you. How fortunate we have a proper excuse to do so.” He offered her his arm and the two set off.
Hours later, as daylight escaped the horizon, Elizabeth and Darcy returned to the main house.
“I do not believe I will ever tire of the exhilaration of Hunting with you, Elizabeth,” Darcy said, kissing her hand.
“You were very gracious when I outran you,” Elizabeth teased.
“I was quite happy to run behind you, my dearest.” His eyes glinted.
“Why, sir, I am shocked by your audacity,” Elizabeth cried with mock embarrassment. She loved Darcy all the more when he teased her. They had come so far since the day they first met, and Elizabeth felt blessed they had moved past their first impressions and fallen in love. Soon they would be Eternally Bonded. Elizabeth kissed him, eager to steal another moment of bliss before they had to part.
Darcy gave her a beguiling look.
“That, my love, is also something I shall never tire of.”
“It is fortunate for you, sir, that I never intend to stop showering you with affection.”
On that note, they each retired.
After the trials the couple had endured, it was a relief to be back at Pemberley, and looking forward to the bright future ahead of them.
Dear Fitzwilliam,
It has been only a week but so much has already changed for the better at Rosings Park. Our uncle has been a great help to me. Mama refused to move out until he arrived and threatened to report her to the courts. He helped me hire a new staff, and he is going to apply to the courts for special permission so that I may go through the Immortal Rite. Unlike you, I have not been so fortunate as to meet someone I love and want to marry. I hope you and Elizabeth are well, and I look forward to attending your wedding.
Anne de Bourgh
Mistress of Rosings Park
Darcy handed the letter to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “It appears your father has been quite productive.”
His cousin smiled as he read it. “I would have liked to be there to see my father force his own sister out of her home. I am sure there has never been such excitement at Rosings. I do hope the courts allow Anne to take the Immortal Rite as an unmarried lady. Rosings has been mismanaged for years, and she seems quite determined to ameliorate the situation. In fact, we may one day enjoy visiting Rosings.”
Darcy highly doubted that. He would be happy to never see his aunt again. Her efforts had failed, of course, but that did not diminish the pain she had caused, and Darcy did not think himself capable of forgiving her.
“You may indeed come to enjoy visiting Rosings,” Darcy told his cousin. “But I do not believe Elizabeth and I will be journeying to Kent in the near future.”
“I cannot say that I blame you,” the colonel said. “Fortunately, Lady Catherine’s efforts did not cause any significant damage. According to my mother, the plans for the ceremony are coming together beautifully. It is a wonder we have caught a glimpse of any of the ladies the past few days with how much work they have been putting into the planning. You must be going out of your mind.”
He was. Aside from brief meetings at breakfast and dinner, Darcy had scarcely seen Elizabeth the past three days, let alone spent any time alone with her. He glanced at his cousin and recognized the expression on his face—he was plotting something.
“As an engagement gift, I will speak with my mother and convince her to release Elizabeth from her obligations. You and Elizabeth will spend the day together tomorrow. And with so much work to be done, I do not see how any of us can be spared to chaperone.”
***
Elizabeth was thrilled when Lady Anne and Lady Matlock excused her from a day of wedding planning. With the rest of the clan soon to arrive, and the impending arrival of her own family, there would not be much opportunity for Elizabeth and Darcy to spend time alone. In truth, Elizabeth had little experience in planning elaborate affairs, and she trusted Lady Anne and Lady Matlock to take care of everything. All that mattered to Elizabeth was that in only a few short weeks, she would marry the love of her life. The details of the Rite or the ball following it did not overly concern her.
Once she was dressed, she hurried downstairs to find Darcy. For the first time, she employed her Sire Bond to find him. It was a strange sensation—akin to being pulled by the navel on an invisible rope. She had to admit that being able to find Darcy no matter where he may be was certainly useful. Especially considering Pemberley was such a large estate.
He smiled when she entered the library, and crossed the room to meet her.
“Elizabeth, I have missed you. Were it not for the fact that you have been closeted away with members of my own family and planning what will surely be the happiest day of my life, I would have been sorely tempted to expel them all from Pemberley out of the sheer desire to have you to myself.”
Elizabeth smiled. “William, would it shock you if I owned that my thoughts these past three days closely resembled your own?”
“Far from it. In fact, I am delighted to hear it,” Darcy said, taking Elizabeth into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, feeling the strength of his love for her. It was one aspect of their Bond she was only beginning to embrace. When she and Darcy had first met, he had been so difficult to understand. But now, because of the Sire Bond, she could feel what he felt. She was given to understand that once they completed the Rite and were officially a Mated Pair, the Bond would intensify; they might even be able to communicate without speaking. It was an intimidating prospect, but she trusted Darcy completely. She knew he would never take advantage of their Bond.
Darcy, sensing her errant train of thought, looked down at her, his dark gaze probing her face. “Is anything the matter, my love?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I simply missed you is all. How shall we spend our day together?”
“I have had the phaeton brought out. I thought we might take a drive and then have a picnic by the lake.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Sharing a decanter of Blood Wine is hardly a picnic.”
“No, it is not. We shall have to find other ways to occupy ourselves,” Darcy said, smiling down at her in a knowing way.
Elizabeth lowered her gaze and, had Darcy said this before her Turning, her color would have been high and her pulses would have fluttered.
She took his hand and said, “Then let us not delay.”
***
Darcy handed Elizabeth into the phaeton and settled in beside her. As he drove along the road leading away from the main house, he would stop periodically to point out a view or a feature that Elizabeth might enjoy. That she approved of his ancestral home and had begun to refer to it as her own was eminently satisfying.
After half an hour they stopped at the lake. There was a shaded grove perfect for a respite. Elizabeth laid out the blanket, then removed the decanter and two glasses from the basket. Darcy sat beside her and poured the Blood Wine.
“May I propose a toast?” he asked. Then, raising his glass, he said “To you, Elizabeth. Words cannot begin to describe how grateful I am that you gave me a second chance. I cannot wait to begin our lives together as Eternal Partners.”
Elizabeth took his hand and raised her own glass.
“And now I will give my own toast. To you, William. I feel so blessed that you fell in love with me. You saved me so many times, even when I did not know I needed to be saved.”
After finishing the decanter, she lay entwined in Darcy’s arms.
“William, may I ask you something?”
“Anything,” Darcy assured her.
“Will you tell me about the conflict with your father?”
Darcy sat up, taking Elizabeth with him.
She turned to face him. “I know that conflict causes you pain. I can feel it, even now. I would like to share your burden. That is what it means to be partners in life.”
Darcy took an unnecessarily deep breath. “You already know George Wickham and I were childhood friends. He was the son of my father’s late steward, and his father named him after mine. I have never been particularly close to my father, perhaps because we are too similar in temperament. My father, though, loved George Wickham. He was drawn in by his engaging manners and charm. They spent hours together, and my father took him under his wing financially after his own father died. Not only that, but he applied to the courts so that he could put Wickham through the Immortal Rite. After the Rite, he gave him a generous allowance so he could study law at Oxford. As it turned out, Wickham did not have the dedication to finish his education, so he applied to my father for further pecuniary support. So my father granted him the living at Kympton, which is the rectory on our estate. You know from experience that Wickham was not meant to be a religious leader, but my father could not see it.”
Darcy paused for a moment before continuing, taking strength from Elizabeth’s comforting presence.
“I went to my father and begged him to disinherit Wickham, for I had kept track of him during his time at Oxford. He had squandered his money as well as his opportunity to better his position in life. He had broken so many of the Dictates. He had taken advantage of my family’s generosity. Sadly, my father did not believe me. He accused me of being jealous and trying to ruin Wickham’s life out of spite. I responded in kind, and we did not speak for weeks.
“Then, a month after Wickham’s return to Pemberley, he set his sights on Georgiana. He Enthralled her and convinced her to accept his hand in marriage. They went to my father and quickly secured his blessing. I tried to warn my parents that he was just after Georgiana’s dowry—a fortune of thirty thousand pounds—but I know now that my father was Enthralled by Wickham. My mother, who had always been immune to Wickham’s Thrall, was unwilling to go against her husband’s wishes.”
“As you know, Wickham threatened to kill Georgiana if I reported his Oxford activities to the courts, and I paid him to disappear. My sister was heartbroken, and my father was furious. He said I had deprived him of having the son he always wanted. He threatened to disinherit me. I expect he would have if not for my mother’s intervention. Afterwards, I could not tolerate life at Pemberley. I had no wish to ever see my father again—however unrealistic a wish that was—and I left Pemberley.”
Elizabeth cupped his face with her hands.
“I am so sorry for what you have suffered because of George Wickham and your father. You are better off without Wickham in your life, but do you think you will ever be able to mend your relationship with your father? He was Enthralled. While that cannot completely excuse his actions or the hurtful things he said, surely it means you can one day move past it. An eternity is a long time to be in conflict with your father.”
“I do not know,” Darcy said. “Perhaps too much has happened.”
“You said you and your father are perhaps too similar, and that is why you have never been close. I may not know your father well, but I do know you. You are a good man, and you are capable of forgiveness. Perhaps, if given the chance, your father will prove he is capable of forgiveness as well. I hope you will consider it; but if you do not, know that I will always be on your side.”
For the first time since his falling out with his father, Darcy felt liberated from the grief and agony that conflict had caused. He brushed a kiss across Elizabeth’s forehead.
“Thank you, my love. I will consider it.”
***
Elizabeth felt the relief radiating from the man beside her. Jane had always been there for her in times of strife or conflict. It broke her heart to know Darcy had had to deal with his distress all on his own. She was determined he would never have to face anything alone again.
Darcy pulled the phaeton to a stop near one of Pemberley’s many gardens.
“I want to show you a place I have avoided these past several years.”
He handed Elizabeth out of the carriage and led her under a rose-covered arbor. A giant oak tree stood several feet away, and beneath it Elizabeth spotted a small marble marker.
“What is this place?”
“This is where I was buried after I was Turned.”
Elizabeth slipped her fingers around Darcy’s, and suddenly was overwhelmed by a strange sensation. She could hear the sounds of digging, and felt the desperation to reach the surface. It only lasted a moment, but it left her feeling weak. She leaned against Darcy to steady herself.
He looked down at her, concern etched in his features.
“What is the matter?
“I felt your pain on the night you rose as a vampire, as real as if it were my own,” Elizabeth said, her voice shaking. “How is that possible?”
Darcy wrapped his arms around her, stroking a hand along her back in an attempt to soothe her.
“It is because of our Bond. I am sorry to have caused you pain, Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I am grateful you showed me this place. Thank you for allowing me to know you better.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, and Darcy was touched by the casual intimacy.
They walked through the expansive Pemberley gardens for the remainder of the daylight, fingers entwined and stealing kisses, both feeling at peace.
When they returned to the house, Elizabeth was whisked away by Lady Matlock and Georgiana, who had been waiting to consult with her on wedding details.
On the way to his bedroom, Darcy was intercepted by his mother.
“William,” she said, “may we speak in private?”
Darcy nodded and followed his mother to her private sitting room.
“Darling, I want to speak with you about your father. It is long past time for the two of you to reconcile. I do not wish you to begin married life while in conflict with him. When you are immortal, a few years of family strife may seem like nothing, but I know it has taken a toll on you. I can see it, even now. Furthermore, though he has never shown it, I have felt your father’s remorse these five years, deep in his heart. He did not say it as often as he should have, but your father loves you—more than you know.”
Darcy sighed. It was not that he disbelieved his mother’s claims, but the conflict with his father had begun long before his Turning. On further reflection, it had been over a decade since he had felt his father truly cared for him, or desired his happiness. Wickham and Lady Catherine had only caused them to drift further apart.
“He has not said it in a decade, Mother. Even so, I do want to forgive him.”
His mother smiled. “So you will speak in earnest with your father?”
Darcy nodded.
Lady Anne embraced him, and when she pulled away she said, “William, I am so incredibly happy you have found Elizabeth. That she is also helping you move on from your past is more than I could have hoped for.”
“Thank you, Mother.” And it was true. Elizabeth was helping him move on. Soon they would be able to build a beautiful future together, free from the pain of the past. But to do that, Darcy would have to truly forgive his father, which would be impossible without a real apology from the man.
Much as he dreaded it, Darcy chose to follow the advice of Elizabeth and his mother.
George Darcy was not a man who easily admitted being wrong. As it happened, he rarely was wrong, and so was quite unaccustomed to the situation. However, now that Lady Catherine’s Thrall was broken, he had to own that Elizabeth Bennet comported herself as a gentlewoman. She was witty and charming, the rest of the clan seemed to like her, and his son looked at her as if she were the moon and stars.
Lady Catherine’s Thrall had only put further strain on George’s already-fragile relationship with his son. He wished he could blame everything on that, but George knew in his heart that he deserved the lion’s share of the blame for the distance between his son and himself. He would have to take the first step in repairing the relationship. Making peace with Elizabeth Bennet seemed a good place to start.
He sent a note with her maid, requesting a meeting.
Elizabeth entered his study half an hour later, appearing slightly reticent. Her voice was soft when she said, “What can I do for you, Mr. Darcy?”
George keenly felt the awkwardness of the moment. Stiffly he said, “Please, sit.”
A peculiar glint sparked in Elizabeth’s eyes, and he wondered what could have caused such an expression.
“I realize, Miss Bennet, I have not been the most welcoming since you arrived at Pemberley.”
Again she smiled, as if holding back a laugh.
It was most perplexing, and if not for the openness of her expression, he might have mistaken it for a disregard of anything he might say.
“I would have to agree with you, sir. I suppose it cannot be helped. I have no Firstborn Son in my family, and I am not Anne de Bourgh. Had you not been Enthralled, you still would have objected to my engagement to your son.” There was no acrimony in her tone. She was merely stating a fact. “I do hope you will one day overcome your disappointment—but even if you do not, I will not step aside to please you. Fitzwilliam Darcy is the love of my life.”
It should have incensed him—being spoken to in such a frank manner—but oddly, George Darcy was touched by Elizabeth’s devotion to his son, and pleased with her candor.
“In other words, you are determined to have him. I have known ladies to say anything to ensure their own future.”
Elizabeth raised her chin. “I am not the sort to profess feelings I do not possess, and if you asked your son, he would say the same.”
“Would he, indeed?”
“Yes. It may shock you to hear it, but before the accident that led to my turning, I refused a proposal from your son.”
George Darcy’s jaw dropped to hear it.
Elizabeth continued. “I will own to previously not loving him as dearly as I do now, but I assure you nothing but the deepest love would have persuaded me to accept an offer of marriage from him. If you remain unconvinced of my motivations, I can only hope you will one day change your mind. I will not, however, allow your disapproval to deprive William and myself of a marriage built upon mutual admiration, respect, and love.”
George Darcy did not doubt the sincerity of her claim. Had he not felt the same devotion to Anne in his youth? The only difference between the situations was that no one had been against his own match. Now, standing face to face with the lady he had tried to rip away from his son, he knew he did not deserve forgiveness. Yet he would be foolish enough to ask for it in any case.
“I owe you an apology, Miss Bennet. I wish I could blame all my words and actions against you upon the Enthrallment but truth be told, even without it, it is as you said. I still would have opposed the match. I was wrong about you though. I can see plain as day that you love my son; and I also see—although I did not wish to at first—that he is now, with you at his side, the happiest he has ever been. I am deeply sorry for how I have treated you. You and William have my blessing.”
“I thank you, sir,” Elizabeth said.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
George Darcy was unsure how to continue. His hands fidgeted at his sides, and he was certain he wore an uncomfortable expression.
Then Elizabeth smiled again with an impish expression.
George Darcy might have turned red, had he been capable of that.
“What is it, Miss Bennet?”
She giggled. “Oh, sir, I am just humoring a bit of silliness. I take it you are unaccustomed to admitting when you are in the wrong. Forgive me for saying so, sir—I do not mean to offend—but I see so much of you in your son. He behaved the very same the first time he offered me an apology.” Elizabeth sobered before saying, “You and your son are more alike than either of you realize, and that is how I know you are a good man at heart, and why I can forgive your slights against me.”
“Truly?” he asked.
Elizabeth nodded and offered him her hand. “An eternity is a dreadfully long time to spend in conflict. I do not see the point of it.”
“You are very generous, Miss Bennet.”
“Mr. Darcy, as we will be family soon, I do not see the need for such formal address.”
He clasped her hand in his.
“I concede, Elizabeth.”
It was the first step he had taken towards familial harmony in years, and it came with a great sense of relief. After Elizabeth left his study, he took a sheet of paper and penned a letter to Lady Catherine, expressing in no uncertain terms that she was to leave Elizabeth alone.
***
“Mama, Papa, I want to go to Brighton! Why should I not be allowed to go? Mrs. Forster has invited me to join her.”
“You cannot go to Brighton,” Mr. Bennet declared, looking up from his book. “You are an unmarried vampire. Until you tell me the identity of your Sire, I cannot allow you to leave the house.”
“Lydia, my dear, I know you think all hope is lost where your Sire is concerned, but if you give your father a name, he will be able to find him, and then the two of you shall be married and all will be well.”
“I have not lost all hope, Mama. In fact, I am certain I shall see him again very soon. He will be in Brighton. I know it. When we are reunited, he will honor his promise to marry me. But I must go to Brighton. Mrs. Forster and Denny and Carter will be beside themselves if I do not,” Lydia declared.
She rushed to her father’s side and said, “Papa, I will behave, and no one will know I have been Turned until my Sire and I are married. After that, it will not matter. You allowed Lizzy to go north with her Sire and she is unmarried. Why should I not be allowed to go to Brighton?”
“Your sister is engaged, and we are heading to Pemberley in a fortnight for the wedding. The circumstances of your Turning and your sister’s Turning are entirely different, and you have insisted on withholding the truth. That sort of behavior does not gain my trust. If you tell me the name of your Sire, perhaps I might reconsider and allow you to spend some time in Brighton before Lizzy’s wedding. The militia departs tomorrow, so I suggest you not tarry in making your decision.”
“You are the worst father in the world,” Lydia cried before storming off.
She ran to her room and began throwing her possessions in her trunk. Since her ogre of a father would not give his permission for her to go to Brighton, she would have to leave in the middle of the night. Denny and Carter would escort her, she was sure of it. They were her beloved’s closest companions. Her mother and sisters had not failed to notice her melancholy—and more importantly her anger—after Wickham’s departure, but she had still concealed the truth from them. After all, Wickham had forbidden her from telling the secret of her Turning. As much as she would have liked to confide in Kitty, her Sire had given her a direct order, and it was impossible for her to disobey—she did not have the constitution or strength of will to do so.
After her trunk was packed, she snuck away from the house and went to Meryton to speak to Denny and Carter. She spotted them on the main street.
“Miss Lydia,” Denney greeted her. “Will you be joining us in Brighton? A mutual acquaintance would certainly be glad to see you.”
Lydia made her reply, taking delight in the words. “Soon you will be able to address me as Mrs. Wickham.”
“Of course,” Carter agreed. “But will you be journeying to Brighton? It is no Gretna Green, to be sure, but I imagine there would be someone willing to perform the Eternal Rite.”
“My father has not given me permission to go, but I shall go nevertheless. I no longer wish to be Miss Lydia Bennet. Will you and Denny escort me tonight?”
The two men exchanged a look, and neither of them spoke.
“I have information for my intended, and it cannot be delivered in a letter. Should it fall into the wrong hands, he would be reported to the courts.”
Denny paled. “It would be an honor to escort you. We will come for you at midnight, and I shall inform Colonel Forster that Denny and I will ride ahead of the Militia. I am sure Mrs. Forster will gladly take you in, once we are in Brighton.”
Lydia smiled widely, allowing her fangs to show. “Perhaps she may; but I fully intend to stay with my future husband in Brighton.” Then she waved and returned to Longbourn.
Soon she would see her beloved again and tell him all she had learned in his absence. He would be so grateful—a proposal and a wedding would be sure to follow.
***
“Please, sir, I will give you anything you want. All I want is to return home.”
George Wickham smiled down at the quivering young lady in his arms. She was the daughter of a captain. The captain had beaten him at cards the previous evening and stolen away what should have been his. In Wickham’s mind, it was only right to pay him back in kind.
“Oh, my dear, the only thing I want is the blood coursing through your veins. I cannot drink my fill if I allow you to return home now, can I?”
“Please, sir, have mercy. My father can pay you, he—”
Bored of her words, Wickham snapped the girl’s neck. He sank his teeth into the tender flesh of her neck and drained her, then deposited her body in the sea and returned to his dwelling.
He was unsatisfied with life in Brighton, and had half a mind to desert England in favor of the Continent. France would be ideal. Vampires in French society led far less restrictive lives. Or perhaps he would go further still—to America. Now that the country was independent, he suspected the vampires overseas would want to break from English laws and traditions. It was likely he could feed, Enthrall, and kill as he pleased. Yes. He would go to America. The only impediment to the plan was his lack of funds. Since he had resigned from Colonel Forster’s regiment, he had lived on stolen money. He would find a way to increase his fortune, like he always had.
He spent the following day in a tavern, cheating at cards and flirting with young ladies of less than reputable status. He was surprised when Denny, Carter, and a young lady in a hooded cloak arrived.
“If you are here on behalf of Colonel Forster, do not bother. I find the life of a soldier is not for me. I have no wish to rejoin the regiment.”
“We did not come on behalf of the colonel, but rather on behalf of Miss Lydia,” Denny said.
Wickham turned to the lady who now removed her cloak. He scanned her body, and with a lecherous smile said, “My dear Lydia, you are looking well. Perhaps I was wrong to leave Hertfordshire without you. I hope you will forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive, my love. I have some news to share with you, but it is for only you to hear.”
Wickham waved his hand at Denny and Carter. “Leave us.”
The two men bowed and left the establishment.
Lydia settled into a chair.
Wickham placed his hand on her thigh.
“You have news? Or did you simply miss being in the company of your Sire?”
Lydia looked up at him through her eyelashes. “I did miss you. What other man could satisfy me in the way you have? But that is not the sole reason I came. A week ago, my father received a letter from Pemberley. My sister Elizabeth is to marry Mr. Darcy in three weeks. It appears your attempt at vengeance failed.”
Damn his eyes. Would he ever be free of Fitzwilliam Darcy?
“Are you certain? Absolutely certain?”
“Of course. Why else would my sister be in Derbyshire? I had so hoped to beat her down the aisle—and the victory would be significant, for the dreadful Mr. Darcy is nothing compared to you.”
Lydia’s flirtation was completely lost on Wickham. He could not leave for America while Darcy was alive. He would not know peace until Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet were ashes.
“Are you angry, my love? Truly, you need not concern yourself with their affairs. We could run away together. We could go to Gretna Green, or anywhere else.”
Wickham was tempted to snap at Lydia, but he held his temper in check. He looked at her, moved his hand to her waist.
“You are right, my dear, and I wish I could follow my heart. But I am penniless because of Darcy, and I cannot yet afford a wife, as much as I desire to make you mine.”
Lydia ran a finger along his cheek.
“I will find a way to improve our circumstances. But for now, let us Hunt. There are many people in Brighton who are unprotected.”
His lips curled into a sinister smile.
“My love, you are wicked.”
Elizabeth’s head tossed and turned on her pillow.
Georgiana’s face was pale as she spoke, a glint of fear in her light eyes; fear that the man beside her would abandon her merely for speaking the truth. “I love you, George, but I do not want to disappoint my family by making a hasty decision.”
Wickham laid a hand on her thigh. “The only family member you will disappoint is that selfish prig of a brother. We have received your father’s blessing. Let us not delay. I cannot wait another day to make you my Eternal Partner.”
“Will it hurt?” Georgiana’s voice quivered.
Wickham shook his head. “I hear it can be quite pleasurable. I promise to make it so.” He took her in his arms, fangs descending, and was about to bite her when he was suddenly pulled off her.
“If you lay a hand on my sister again, I will see to it you are nothing but dust in the wind.”
“William!” Georgiana cried, springing to her feet. “It is fine. Father gave us his blessing. Please, let him go. I love him.”
“I know you believe you are in love, Georgiana, but George Wickham cares only for your fortune. I will not allow him to ruin your life. Return to the house.”
Georgiana attempted to stifle a sob, but was not entirely successful. She froze in indecision for a moment before finally obeying her brother.
Darcy threw Wickham to the ground and slammed his foot into his chest.
“You will leave England tonight. And you will never return, or so help me, I will put a stake through your heart.”
“You will do no such thing,” another voice called.
George Darcy had suddenly arrived. “Let him go, Fitzwilliam.”
Darcy complied only because the order came from his Sire.
“What is the meaning of this?” George Darcy cried as he helped Wickham to his feet.
“He was about to Turn my sister. Did you truly sanction this?”
“Of course. They are well suited. George will make Georgiana happy, and will treat her with care. I have bequeathed him the living at Kympton. I know you have had your squabbles in the past, but they mean nothing. Soon you will be brothers by law—you will have to put it all behind you for the sake of clan harmony.”
Wickham’s voice was haughty as he added, “Your sister will make a very devoted wife. You need not have any concerns.”
George Darcy ignored the comment and gave his son a severe look. “You will not interfere with this match. Perhaps George was impulsive to attempt to Turn Georgiana a night early, but love compels people to behave in strange ways. The Eternal Rite will take place tomorrow, and I will hear no word against it.”
“George, you will return to the house. I need to speak to Fitzwilliam in private.”
Wickham bowed before speeding off towards Pemberley house.
“Fitzwilliam, if you attempt to harm George Wickham in any manner, I will cast you out of our clan. I will not allow you to deprive me of the son I always wanted.”
Darcy valiantly ignored the pain this assertion caused him.
“You are marrying your only daughter off to a murderous bastard who has broken the Dictates time and time again. You are a blind fool.”
“And you have always been jealous of George, Fitzwilliam. Do not deny it. Now get out of my sight. If you cannot attend the Rite peacefully, you will not be welcome at all.”
Darcy turned and ran off in the opposite direction of the house. He could sense Wickham was near, waiting to gloat over his victory. A moment later, the devil appeared before him. Anger pulsed through Darcy’s entire being.
“Perhaps you should be the one to leave England and never return,” Wickham said with a malicious grin.
“How much will it take to convince you to leave?” Darcy hissed.
“Ten thousand pounds. You may be heir to Pemberley, but I doubt you have access to that much money.”
“Done,” Darcy said through clenched teeth.
Wickham’s brows shot up. “Is your chit of a sister really worth that much? I was not under the impression you cared about anyone.”
“I will send the money to you at Lambton tomorrow. You will leave this instant, and if I ever see you on this estate again, you will not live long enough to regret it.”
Wickham grinned. “A pleasure doing business with you.” Then he turned on his heel and departed.
The following evening, Georgiana stood on the steps of the Pemberley chapel in her pale silk gown with her parents, the Matlocks, and Mrs. Reynolds. Darcy arrived late, but not as late as the prospective groom.
Darcy went to his sister. “Georgiana, I am so sorry. George has disappeared. I could find no trace of him anywhere on the estate or in Lambton.”
Georgiana collapsed into his arms. Darcy felt her heartbreak almost as if it was his own. He half carried his baby sister down the chapel steps and instructed Mrs. Reynolds to bring her back to the waiting carriage.
Then George Darcy rounded on his son. “You dusted him.”
Darcy shook his head. “I did not. It was his choice to leave, and he will never darken our lives again.” And in that moment, he truly believed that.
“You stole your sister’s happiness, and that of a man I looked upon as a son. You have betrayed your clan and Sire. You will pay for this.”
Lady Anne stepped up and laid a hand on her husband’s shoulder.
“Our clan is better off without that man, and so is our daughter. You will see the truth once you have calmed down.”
Darcy did not remain to witness the rest of the conversation. Instead, he returned to his quarters, packed a single bag and departed that night for London. The Darcy townhouse was rarely occupied; members of his clan preferred to remain in the North. Before departing, he looked back one final time at the home he loved.
Elizabeth sat up in bed, not quite understanding what she had just witnessed in her sleep. Darcy’s sorrow pierced her heart like a stake. In that moment, she longed to comfort Darcy and assure him Pemberley was his home once more; and that his clan had recovered from the destruction Wickham had caused.
But a traitorous part of her mind whispered she should retreat. It was too much to experience first-hand all that her future partner had suffered. She wondered what private memories of hers he had accessed through their connection. It was one thing to be completely honest with each other, but to leave every aspect of her life open for Darcy to experience was daunting. The Bond between a Firstborn Son and his chosen partner remained largely a mystery to her; yet the more she learned, the more she secretly longed to return to the simplicity of the life she had lived before meeting Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Elizabeth drew the counterpane over her head and burrowed into the featherbed, as if doing so could protect her from the complexities of her new existence. Instead of confronting difficulties head on—as she always had done—in this moment of doubt, Elizabeth tried to deny them, to push them out of her mind.
It was a choice destined to lead to trouble.
***
Elizabeth Hunted on her own the following three nights, and hid away in her bedchamber during the day. She could not face Darcy after experiencing his past through the Sire Bond. Perhaps he would not forgive her for doing so; or even worse, he would reveal he had witnessed as much of her own past. In any case, Elizabeth had no desire to find out. The only inhabitants at Pemberley to see her those three days were Mrs. Reynolds and Lucy, and then only to deliver Blood Wine and draw her baths.
On the fourth day after her dream, that solitude came to an end.
Without ceremony, Lady Anne entered her room. “Elizabeth, you look frightful. Whatever is the matter? No one has seen you in days.”
“There is nothing much wrong with me, your ladyship,” Elizabeth said, avoiding eye contact. Lady Anne was far too perceptive, and Elizabeth had a feeling the older lady would be able to determine the cause of her withdrawal if given the opportunity.
“Oh, come now Elizabeth. If you tell me that bouts of melancholy and a desire for isolation are a common occurrence for you, I shall not believe it. My son is much more suited to that sort of behavior. Something is troubling you, and I shall not leave until I have discovered it.”
Lady Anne’s tone brooked no argument, and Elizabeth recognized the stubborn set in the lady’s jaw. She had seen it before—on her son’s face.
Elizabeth heaved an unnecessary sigh and sank to the settee.
Lady Anne settled in beside her and laid a hand on hers.
“You can confide in me, Elizabeth, and I will do whatever I can to help.”
Elizabeth was silent for several moments before finally speaking softly. “Is it common to experience glimpses of the past of your Eternal Partner?”
“Not very common. It only happens to those with the strongest of Bonds. After a few decades of marriage, it will start to happen. Sometimes such a phenomenon will occur directly after the Eternal Rite. The Bond between vampires, however, varies between each Mated Pair. Such things are not often discussed in polite society; it is far too intimate a subject.”
It was not the answer Elizabeth had hoped for.
Lady Anne gave her a shrewd look. “It happened to you, did it not?”
Elizabeth nodded and related the dream she had experienced.
“Remarkable. I have never heard of such an occurrence before the Eternal Rite. My husband and I completed the Rite thirty years ago and have only just begun to experience it. It is incredible to know one’s partner in life so completely.”
Lady Anne noticed Elizabeth’s crestfallen expression.
“It is overwhelming, no doubt, but you must look at it as a blessing. I advise you to share your burden with William—it will bring the two of you closer together.”
“I never wanted to be an Eternal Partner,” Elizabeth confessed. “Spending centuries with one person, being so irrevocably connected, seemed a burden. I always imagined living, loving, and resting. Or perhaps not marrying at all, for I did not imagine I would ever love anyone enough to walk down the aisle, let alone go through the Rites. I am afraid. What if I am not capable of living with such a deep connection, even to someone I have come to love with all my heart?”
Lady Anne drew Elizabeth into her arms. “It will become easier with time. You and William have a bright future ahead of you. It is natural to experience doubt before marriage, and even more so before the Rite, but all will be well. You must trust in the love you and William share.”
Elizabeth wanted to believe this, but in her heart of hearts a part of her remained unsure.
***
Darcy paced his study like a caged tiger. It had been days since he had seen Elizabeth. As much as he wanted to keep himself from using their Bond to divine what was wrong with her, he could not. He felt her fear and her sorrow, and it broke him to know he might be the reason. Perhaps he had shared too much of himself that day touring the grounds. Perhaps he had frightened her away.
A knock on the door disrupted his tormented thoughts. “Enter,” he called, hoping against hope it would be Elizabeth. He had never been more disappointed to see his mother.
“William, we need to speak about Elizabeth,” his mother said, concern evident in her soft voice.
Darcy willed himself to remain composed as he invited his mother to sit across from him. However, he proved unequal to the task, as his desperation seeped into his tone.
“Is she unhappy here at Pemberley? Is she reevaluating her decision to accept my hand?” He could not bear to lose her. The dishonorable notion that he could compromise her into staying with him entered his mind. He despised himself for it and quickly banished the despicable thought. No. Elizabeth loved him, of that he was certain. Then why did he have the sickly feeling he was about to have his heart crushed?
“It is nothing so serious as that,” Lady Anne reassured him. “But Elizabeth seems to be overwhelmed by the strength of your connection. Mrs. Reynolds believes Elizabeth has been Hunting on her own these past three nights. Go to her. She needs your support, even if she is not willing to ask for it.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Darcy rose and was about to leave the study.
“And William?”
“Yes?”
“Be gentle. I know how protective you are of Elizabeth; but this is a delicate matter, and should be treated as such.”
Darcy nodded and went to find Elizabeth.
***
Lady Anne had convinced Elizabeth to allow Lucy to help make herself presentable. She still felt unequal to the task of confiding in her future partner. As much as she loved and trusted him, the experiences she had because of the Bond were foreign to her and she had not yet learned how to deal with them, let alone speak about them with Darcy. Speaking to his mother had been difficult enough.
However, fortune was not on her side. There was a knock on the door accompanied by Darcy saying, “Elizabeth, please open the door. We need to speak.”
Oddly enough, she felt relieved he had come to her, but the larger part of her was still reluctant to open the door. She did so anyway and took comfort when he gathered her in his arms.
“Oh, my love, why have you been locking yourself away in these rooms?”
Elizabeth took a bracing deep breath. She supposed it was better to say it outright, however difficult it may be.
“I witnessed your last two nights before you left Pemberley. I did not know how you would take the violation of your most painful memories. I worried you might be angry with me,” she admitted.
“Elizabeth, it pleases me beyond measure that our Bond is so strong. It means we are meant for each other. I am only sorry my recollections caused you pain.”
He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer. He could feel her relief. For a moment he was saddened that she still did not trust him enough to immediately confide in him, but he knew such a feeling was nonsensical. He knew instinctively that the strength of her love for him could survive any test the fates might throw at them.
“I am thankful to hear it. I should not have hidden myself away,” Elizabeth said, silently adding and I should not have gone off on my own. The words were a secret she meant to protect. But one look at Darcy’s face told her he already knew of her recklessness.
For an impossibly long moment, Darcy was silent, and that was forbidding—even more so when he walked away and crossed the room to stare out the window. She saw the tension in his shoulders and could sense his perturbation. At length, he turned around and spoke, his voice quiet.
“Elizabeth, you should take better care. It is not wise to Hunt alone. You could become lost or get injured.”
That he believed her to be so helpless annoyed her, to say the least. Without thinking, she said, “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I would thank you to remember it in the future.”
Darcy inhaled slowly in an attempt to remain calm.
“You will never Hunt on your own again.” It was an indisputable command. As her Sire, Darcy knew she would be compelled to obey. He felt the sheer force of her ire as she glowered at him and faltered back a few steps.
Elizabeth fought against the primal instinct of their Bond to swear to Darcy she would not venture out alone. That he would use his authority as her Sire against her was a betrayal, and she had no desire to remain in his presence.
“I will not be ordered around, not even by my Sire.” It caused her physical pain to turn away from him, and she felt as if she were being pricked by thousands of needles all at once. But turn away she did, and employed her full speed to escape through the doors of Pemberley. She heard his voice demanding that she return, but she did not heed it. The blood pulsed in her veins, screaming at her to return to her Sire. Again, she ignored it, and ran harder towards the Pemberley woods.
The wind whistled in her ears as she ran. It was a moonless night. Elizabeth cut a path through the trees, not knowing where her feet were carrying her. All she knew was she wanted to be far away from Darcy. Her rage at his use of the Bond blinded her to the fact that he was merely trying to keep her safe.
The Pemberley woods were as black as pitch and the thick trees obscured the faint starlight. During her time at Pemberley she had not yet explored the woods much. She could hear the sound of the stream a short distance away and tried to follow the sounds of the water. At last she broke through a line of trees and spied a hint of blue in the darkness.
Looking forward instead of below was her downfall, and she slipped off the edge of a rocky outcropping. Her body hit the bed of jagged rocks below with a shattering force. It was a miracle she did not crack her skull open. She lay there on the bed of stones, limbs askew, blood seeping out of the injuries sustained by the fall. Her head, though largely intact, was thrumming. She could not find the strength to move.
Her world fell into complete darkness.
“Elizabeth!” Darcy shouted, falling to his knees. A visceral pain unlike anything he had experienced enveloped his entire being. It was as if his other half had been ripped away from him.
Lady Anne sped into the study and helped him to his feet.
“William, what is the matter?”
For a moment, Darcy could not speak. Fear seized his every impulse, overwhelming him into temporary paralysis. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on their Bond, but he felt nothing.
Finally he rasped, “Elizabeth is in danger. We must find her.” He tried to push past his mother but was held back.
“Wait,” Lady Anne said, “how can she be in danger? Is she not just upstairs?”
“We quarreled and she ran off. I should have gone after her. If serious harm has befallen her, I will have only myself to blame. I must gather the footmen, my father’s steward, and any others we can find to search the grounds. There is no time to lose.”
“Have you any sense of where she may be? Perhaps you can trace her through your Bond.”
Darcy shook his head. “She is still unfamiliar with the grounds, and the moon is fully waned. I must not delay.”
“Go. I will take care of everything, and our doctor will be ready to tend her when you return.” Lady Anne embraced her son and pressed a kiss to his brow. “You must have faith, my dear.”
Darcy ran as fast as his feet could carry him, bolting blindly into the night.
An hour passed, and then another, with no success. Elizabeth was not in the gardens or hothouses. Darcy and the others then focused on Pemberley’s considerable wood. Darcy tried once more to reach out through their Bond, hoping for a glimpse of her surroundings, but he saw nothing. He thought at first she might be blocking their connection after their argument, but now a primal instinct told him she was weak and in peril.
He scanned the dark forest inch by inch and soon approached a break in the trees where the stream flowed around a rocky edge with a thirty-foot drop. That was when the rich aroma hit him—Elizabeth’s blood, and a considerable amount of it. He raced to the edge of the cliff and looked down. Fear gripped his unbeating heart when he saw Elizabeth’s mangled body lying in a pool of blood.
Darcy ran along the sloping cliff side that bordered the river until he reached the riverbank. He then hurried to Elizabeth’s body. He took her unconscious form in his arms, hoping against hope she had not already lost too much blood. She had certainly broken several bones. Her vampiric healing would take care of that in a day or two, provided she drank fresh blood often. He worried about moving her back to Pemberley in this weakened state; in his haste to find her, he had not brought along any Blood Wine.
Her face was eerily serene in her state of unconsciousness—but the longer she remained so, the more danger she was in.
“Elizabeth,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “you must wake up.” He laid a hand on her cheek, and was relieved when he felt the pressure of her hand upon his.
“William?” Elizabeth said, in bleary confusion.
“You have lost a lot of blood, my love, and you must replenish it. Do you trust me?”
***
“Do you trust me?” Darcy’s voice sounded a million miles away.
Did she? He had erred greatly by taking advantage of his position as her Sire, but lying on the ground, her body broken, she now saw the wisdom in his command. Did one misstep erase the fact that he had saved her, protected her, and loved her from the first day they met? No, she acknowledged to herself. It did not.
Elizabeth nodded, but only just. She felt herself beginning to slip away again.
Darcy extended his wrist to her. “You need to drink.”
“I cannot,” Elizabeth said.
“Elizabeth, please. You are weak from your fall and if you do not have fresh blood, your recovery will be far more difficult.”
“I do not wish to take anything from you.”
“You are not taking anything, Elizabeth. I am giving it to you. Please. You will not harm me.”
Elizabeth felt his fear and worry. She had to alleviate them. Her fangs descended as she brought his wrist to her lips. She sank her teeth into his soft flesh and drank deep. His blood rushed through her system—almost instantly her entire body felt alive. The flavor was sweet and tangy, unlike anything she had tasted before. It was a gift given to her by the man she loved. The strength of that love had frightened her, but now it pulsed through every inch of her body. His devotion washed over her, enveloping her in a delicious warmth. After several moments, she tried to pull back, not wanting to take too much; his hand at the back of her head kept her in place, encouraging her to take more. Already some of her pain was fading. She broke the contact between them.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said, looking down at her, his dark eyes shining with concern.
“William, I will recover. Please, take me home.”
Darcy gingerly lifted her and they made the return to Pemberley at a moderate pace.
***
Lady Anne awaited them, along with Mrs. Reynolds and the family doctor, Mr. Hudson. Darcy placed Elizabeth on a stretcher and made to follow the group as two of the footmen carried Elizabeth away.
His mother placed a hand on his arm.
“Mr. Hudson needs to examine her injuries in private. I have already sent two bottles of Blood Wine to ease her recovery. Now tell me what happened.”
Darcy explained how Elizabeth came to be injured and his culpability in the incident. However, he could hardly tell his mother he had allowed Elizabeth to feed from him. While it did not strictly violate the Dictates, doing such a thing before the Eternal Rite was akin to anticipating the marriage vows.
“Is there something else?” Lady Anne asked, giving her son a probing gaze.
Darcy shook his head. “Please just make sure he takes good care of her.”
“I will. Get some rest, William. You will be no good to Elizabeth if you do not also take care of yourself.”
***
“Lady Anne, may I speak to you in private?” Mr. Hudson asked. He had just finished bandaging Elizabeth’s wounds, setting her broken bones, and had given her a strong dose of blood-infused laudanum. Elizabeth was now sleeping comfortably.
Lady Anne gestured to the sitting room attached to Elizabeth’s bedchamber.
He closed the door behind him, looking wary.
“It is a delicate matter, madam, and I would be a disgrace to my profession if I did not disclose my findings to you.” The man was clearly embarrassed.
“I will not take offense to whatever you have to say, Mr. Hudson. What did you discover?”
“You said the young lady suffered a fall from thirty feet, correct?”
Lady Anne nodded.
Mr. Hudson fidgeted with his spectacles for a moment before continuing.
“Her healing is already much further along than it ought to be. The amount of blood loss from such a fall should have been as close to fatal as a vampire can come. Forgive me for saying so, your ladyship, but I believe the only explanation is that your son and Miss Bennet have anticipated the Rite.”
Lady Anne was silent for a moment. The reason for her son’s reticent demeanor suddenly became all too clear.
“Thank you for your services, Mr. Hudson. I trust you will return in two days to see that Miss Bennet has fully recovered.”
“Of course, your ladyship. Begging your pardon.” He bowed low, grabbed his medical bag, and left her presence.
Lady Anne, still in shock from this news, had no choice but to confide in her husband.
***
Elizabeth’s head was thrumming. She tried to sit up, but heard Lucy say, “Not yet, miss, you are not strong enough.” Her maid brought her what must have been a fourth glass of Blood Wine and assisted her in drinking it.
“You must rest, miss. You have several broken bones, and have suffered a significant blood loss. The doctor said your recovery will take another two days at least, perhaps more.”
“Has the doctor departed?”
Lucy nodded.
“What did he give me? I feel strange.”
“Blood-infused laudanum, miss. I have some more if you need it.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. I do not like the way it makes me feel. I would rather recover without it.”
“Very well, miss. I will not give it to you again.”
There was a light knock on the door. Lucy spoke to the person on the other side for a moment before closing the door and turning to her mistress.
“It is Master Fitzwilliam. Shall I let him in?”
Elizabeth was unsure if she could face his disappointment, not with her head pounding as it was. Still, they needed to speak. There was little use in putting it off.
“Yes, let him in, Lucy; but first, help me sit up.”
Lucy reluctantly followed the order.
“I will be just outside the door should you need anything.” Then she turned and left Elizabeth and Darcy alone.
Darcy immediately came to her bedside. His voice was low as he spoke.
“Elizabeth, are you feeling any better?”
“It sounds as if I am well on my way to recovery,” Elizabeth answered. “But William, we do need to resolve our quarrel. I need to know you will not abuse our Bond. There is nothing I dislike more than being compelled to do something I do not wish to do.”
Darcy frowned at her. “I was trying to protect you; and clearly, I was correct in doing so.”
It was a harsh truth, and it incensed Elizabeth to have her impulsivity thrown back in her face in such a manner. Her head was still cloudy from the laudanum; for a moment, she felt it might be better to postpone the conversation. But she had never been one to refrain from speaking her mind.
Elizabeth glared at Darcy and folded her arms across her chest, her eyes flashing dangerously.
“I would not have gone off on my own had you had not tried to forbid me from doing so. I trusted you to never take advantage of me like Wickham did. You failed me. We have not even said our vows yet. How are we to be Eternal Partners if you do not apologize and promise to do better in the future?”
She knew comparing him to Wickham would wound him, but how else would he realize the severity of his mistake?
“And this is what you truly think of me?” Darcy asked, his expression dark. “That I would use our Bond to control you? That I would bend you to my will at every turn? If so, then I have failed in every conceivable way. If this is how you feel, we have nothing more to say to each other.” He turned and left the room.
Elizabeth felt his heartbreak. But she stood by what she had said. If they could not work through this, then perhaps they were not meant to spend eternity together.
Only two weeks ago, they had been happy together—blissfully so. How could their relationship have fallen apart so quickly? After all they had been through, he would not allow her to slip away. They were meant to be Eternal Partners, of that he was certain. But that she could accuse him of manipulating her—like Wickham had—was heart-wrenching. By God, he had only been trying to protect her.
Darcy rode his favorite horse to the village of Lambton to lick his wounds. It was a cowardly decision, to be sure, but it required all his strength to not to drag Elizabeth to the church and complete the Rite in private so they could never be divided again. She would not forgive him for such a course of action, nor would he forgive himself. He refused to seriously consider that Elizabeth might no longer want to marry him. He would face that possibility only if it became reality.
Even five miles away, he could feel Elizabeth’s pain from her many injuries. He closed his eyes and a picture of Elizabeth formed in his mind. Her cheeks were tear-stained and she refused the blood-infused laudanum that her maid offered her. It is not that sort of pain that troubles me, Lucy.
Darcy opened his eyes with a start. His use of their Bond—however accidental—had created this mess. He now willed his mind and heart to block Elizabeth, though it was very much akin to denying himself blood. Seeking solitude in a grove of willows behind the inn, he leaned against the tree, feeling the rough bark through his thin coat. He sat in silence for an hour at least before the sound of footfalls alerted him to a new arrival.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, what on earth are you doing here? If you abandon Miss Bennet after what you have done, the clan will never forgive you, nor will I.”
His father was the last person Darcy wanted to see.
“And what exactly have I done to Elizabeth that would trouble you, Father? You have never cared for my happiness or concerned yourself with my affairs. Nor have you been particularly kind to Elizabeth since I brought her to Pemberley. I do not see why that would suddenly change.”
Darcy was surprised to see a trace of pain on his father’s face before his expression hardened.
In a voice barely above a whisper, George Darcy said, “I know you allowed her to drink your blood.”
Darcy scowled. “And what would you have had me do, Father? Allow her to suffer when there was something I could do to alleviate a small part of her pain? I will not justify my actions to you. I have long given up the desire for your approval.”
“And are you prepared to walk down the aisle sooner than expected because of your decision?”
“I am; but whether Elizabeth will still have me remains to be seen.”
George Darcy frowned at his son. “What on earth do you mean? Of course, she will still have you. She swore to me that nothing could keep you apart.”
“Pardon me?” Darcy asked.
“She and I spoke a few days ago. Did she not tell you?”
Darcy shook his head.
“I cannot claim to understand what quarrel passed between you and Miss Bennet, but whatever it is, own up to your mistakes and make it right. That is what you do when you truly love someone.”
The irony of those words coming from his father was not lost on Darcy. That his father could stand there and tell him to go back to Elizabeth—after making several attempts to divide them—must mean his father truly regretted his interference. While Darcy dared not hope for direct confirmation, he did get to his feet.
“Why do you suddenly wish for Elizabeth and me to complete the Eternal Rite?”
“I have come to realize how good she is for you. You are truly happy for the first time in your life. After all I have done to ensure the opposite, I would be a poor father if I tried to keep you apart.”
“Do you truly mean that?” Darcy asked, unaccustomed to hearing his father admit his mistakes.
His father looked affronted. “If I did not mean it, I would not have said it. Now go apologize to Miss Bennet.” He clapped his son on the back.
Darcy was stunned by this exchange, but secretly pleased.
Perhaps there was hope to salvage the trust he had broken with Elizabeth.
***
Elizabeth sat in her bed, the laudanum finally out of her system. Her head still throbbed, but the pain from her injuries was fading. The doctor had come and gone, insisting she remain in bed for another day.
Lady Anne had come as well. Her visit was short. After ensuring Elizabeth’s recovery was well under way, she had remained only long enough to ask if her son had called on her.
Elizabeth was reluctant to speak about Darcy, especially to his mother. She answered in the affirmative and said little else, but Lady Anne seemed to know something was amiss.
Elizabeth idly sipped a glass of Blood Wine, knowing the more she drank the shorter her recovery would be. It tasted bitter, especially after drinking from William. She made a valiant effort to avoid the feelings stirred in her from that feeding. It was shameful and wanton. If she had chased away any love Darcy might feel for her after their latest quarrel at her bedside, what good was it to dwell on the deepening of their Bond?
Elizabeth suspected she would be cast out of Pemberley as soon as she was well enough. Her reputation would be ruined—along with that of her family—and she would live out her days as a governess for Jane and Bingley’s children until she journeyed to France for a bit of direct sunlight. Darcy would be free to marry someone who deserved him—someone who did not push him away when life became difficult.
That would kill her as surely as a stake through the heart, but she would bear it, knowing it had been her choice to push him away.
A knock on the door interrupted her morose thoughts. Her traitorous heart hoped it was Darcy coming to make amends. But surely, she had pushed him too far.
“Elizabeth.” Darcy’s voice through the door was rough with emotion.
She knew his pain. But just as surely, she also knew she could not bear to face him only to be set aside. She sank deeper into the featherbed and drew the counterpane over her head. She could not be certain how long Darcy remained at her door. When she finally gathered the courage to rise and open it, the hallway was empty, and it was well past midnight.
Elizabeth knew she was a coward. Her actions only confirmed her belief that she did not deserve him.
***
Colonel Fitzwilliam was deeply disturbed by the discord rampant at Pemberley when he returned from surveying the Matlock estate. He enquired after his cousin.
Mrs. Reynolds said, “Master Fitzwilliam rode away yesterday. He did not return until very late, and has locked himself in his study with orders not to be disturbed.”
“And my uncle and aunt? My mother?”
“They are at the chapel overseeing the preparations for the Eternal Rite, sir.” But Mrs. Reynolds appeared to have more to say.
“Pray, what has been going on while I was away?”
“I do not know if it is my place to say, sir.”
“I must know. How else am I to assist? When I left here a week ago, the house was bustling with happy activity. What has changed?”
Mrs. Reynolds asked the colonel to join her in the library.
“In truth, there seems to be conflict between Master Fitzwilliam and Miss Bennet. Miss Bennet fled the house in the middle of the night, three nights ago. When Master Fitzwilliam found her, she was severely injured. My mistress, Mr. Hudson, and I have personally overseen Miss Bennet’s recovery, and yet Master Fitzwilliam has been mysteriously absent.”
This was disturbing news indeed, but Colonel Fitzwilliam would do what he could to reunite Elizabeth and Darcy. It was plain to see they were better together. Since Darcy had locked himself away, he would begin with Elizabeth.
“Thank you for the intelligence, Mrs. Reynolds. Is Miss Bennet well enough to receive visitors?”
Mrs. Reynolds nodded. “Whether she will admit you is less certain.”
There was little the colonel loved more than a challenge.
He found himself in front of Elizabeth’s door moments later and was surprised when her maid opened the door within seconds of his knocking. The maid’s face fell when she saw the wrong Fitzwilliam at the door.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam, my mistress will see you in her sitting room.”
When Elizabeth looked up as he entered the room, he saw the disappointment in her features. He took it in stride.
“It appears I am destined to disappoint everyone today for the simple fact I am not my cousin.”
Embarrassment colored Elizabeth’s face as she rose to greet him.
“Pray, forgive me Colonel. I am happy to see you, truly.”
“You are not very good at lying, Miss Elizabeth,” he said lightly. That earned him the barest hint of a smile.
“No. I am not.” She sank onto the chaise.
The colonel settled in across from her.
“I understand there has been some trouble of late. I have been told I am an excellent confidante.”
Elizabeth was quiet for a moment, but concluded he would not go away until she spoke with him.
“I am at odds with Darcy. I fear I have pushed him too far this time.”
“And what, pray, could have occurred to make you think my cousin would ever abandon you?” It was a preposterous thought, but the colonel could see Elizabeth truly believed her own outlandish claim.
She explained the events of the past three days, and by the end she was in tears.
“I know it was cruel of me to speak as I did. I broke his heart. But he could not see he had broken mine as well. Perhaps too much has happened. Perhaps we are not meant for each other.”
The colonel was alarmed by her desolate tone.
“Do you still love him?”
Elizabeth nodded. “More than I have ever loved anyone.”
“And can you find it in your heart to forgive his errors?”
Again, she nodded.
“I have never experienced such a love that you and my cousin share, but would you ever forgive yourself if you did not fight for that love? I feel certain Darcy will not. He will not walk away from you over words spoken in pain and anger. He is the most loyal and steadfast man I know. I will find him. You know what you must do.”
Elizabeth was tempted to embrace him. Instead she clasped his and in hers and said, “Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Bring him back to me, please.”
“You have my word.”
Having failed in his attempt to reconcile with Elizabeth, Darcy had initially hidden away in his study. In the early morning, he had slipped away from his study, avoiding meeting with anyone, and made his way towards the lake. Now, Darcy idly tossed the stake in the air, catching it deftly and repeating the action again and again. Elizabeth did not want to be his Eternal Partner. She clearly thought he was little better than Wickham. Perhaps it would be easier to end it all. Then Elizabeth would at least have a chance to find an Eternal Partner worthy of her. Her reputation would not be ruined; she would simply be an unfortunate widow, free to marry again after an appropriate waiting period. The thought of Elizabeth spending an eternity with another man was soul-crushing, but if he simply used the implement in his hand, he would not be around to witness that. He would be nothing more than dust in the wind.
And he would do it, if not for his glaring shortcoming: his selfish desire to be with the lady he loved no matter the cost. He would take anything she would give him, even if she would only have him because he had compromised her. Even if she insisted on having a separate establishment and only appearing at his side for the sake of society. At least he could still see her. She may never love him as she once had, before he destroyed the trust they had built. Someday she may even cease to despise him, as he was sure she presently must. That would be enough. And with that thought, he knew he was incapable of using the stake. He was too weak.
“Darcy, what in God’s name are you doing with that?” Colonel Fitzwilliam’s voice bellowed from behind him. In an instant his cousin was at his side, ripping the wooden stake from his hand. He tossed it into the lake for good measure.
“I was not going to use it. I am far too selfish to do so, which makes me even more unworthy of her,” Darcy said bitterly.
“Do you have any idea of the consequences had you acted so impulsively?” his cousin demanded.
Darcy shook his head. “The clan now has you, Richard. Elizabeth would no doubt be glad to be free of me. Perhaps she could marry you. At least she could be happy then.”
“Do you have any idea how insane you sound? Losing you would destroy Elizabeth, and if you had remained at her door instead of running off you would know that.” The colonel refused to dignify Darcy’s outrageous claim with a response.
It was too much for Darcy to bear. His cousin knew nothing of his quarrels with Elizabeth.
“You act as if you know everything about my relationship with her. But you have not been here this past week. You have not witnessed the agony I have endured.”
“Perhaps not, but I have witnessed hers, and she was the one who was broken. If you had any sense at all, you would not be here arguing with me. You would be throwing yourself before Elizabeth and begging her forgiveness. But perhaps you have too much pride. Perhaps you do not deserve her.”
If looks could kill, Colonel Fitzwilliam would not have needed the discarded stake. He turned and left in a huff.
Broken. That was how his cousin had described Elizabeth. It was how Darcy felt as well. The only difference was he had not fallen from a cliff. And that had happened to Elizabeth because of his misguided words. Suddenly he realized his intent to protect her did not matter as much as the impact she had endured. He should be the one to beg forgiveness. He cursed himself for his blindness. Would Elizabeth would give him one more chance?
Then, in the recesses of his mind he heard: William, please come back to me. He was unsure if his desperate mind was playing tricks on him, but he took it as a sign that not all hope was lost.
***
William, please come back to me.
Elizabeth sat in Darcy’s darkened bedchamber, concentrating on the Sire Bond she shared with him. Darcy’s mother had told her it was possible for Mated Pairs of vampires to silently communicate with one another after enduring the Eternal Rite. Although they had not undergone the ritual, by feeding on him three nights ago she had essentially anticipated the Rite. It was the very strengthening of that bond that had indirectly led to their conflict.
In truth, her faith in him had faltered when he had bid her not to leave. Seeing their Bond strengthened, she had grown more fearful he might abuse their connection—however irrational that thought was. Speaking with the colonel had soothed her fears, but only speaking with Darcy himself could quell them completely. She needed to look into his eyes and see the deep love reflected in them to reinforce her belief that he would never misuse her.
Warmth crept over every inch of her and a moment later, the door opened. She ran into Darcy’s arms and clutched him to her, fearing he might disappear. With his arms around her, she instinctively knew that if their hearts could still beat, they would beat as one.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said, his voice raw with need. He very much wanted to kiss her as she looked up at him, her dark eyes shining with love. But first he had to make amends. He took her hands in his and guided her to the chaise. She sat and he sank to his knees before her and pressed a kiss into each palm.
“I have been an unforgiveable fool. I failed to protect you, I put you in danger, and through my misguided actions I have lost your trust. Yet I kneel here before you, hoping against hope you will still have me. Hoping you will defy all reason and become my Eternal Partner. I cannot promise I will be perfect in the future. But I can promise I will own my mistakes and strive to do better. I will never intentionally abuse our Bond. I will love and honor you as you deserve, and I will spend every day of our eternal lives doing all I can to ensure your happiness. Please, Elizabeth, will you grant me your forgiveness?”
Elizabeth felt his sincerity and love in the very core of her being. She took his beloved face in her hands.
“Oh, my love, of course I can forgive you. And I must apologize as well. In a moment of weakness, I lost faith in you. I wish more than anything I could take back the words I said.”
“That does not matter now. Let us not look back on bitter words said in moments of anger. Let us vow to do better and not turn away from each other ever again.”
“That is a vow easily made,” Elizabeth said, feeling his utter euphoria in her breast as he took her in his arms and covered her lips in a soul-searing kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, knowing she would be unable to stand without him.
He soon placed kisses along the column of her neck. Unbidden, his fangs descended, scraping her delicate flesh.
Elizabeth moaned at the new contact.
Darcy was overwhelmed with desire. He could sense her blood flowing beneath her ivory skin and guided her towards his bed. They tumbled onto it together.
Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes dark with desire. She trembled in his arms as he caressed her neck.
“William, please,” she mewled.
His primal urges took over. He knew what she was asking him to do. His fangs pierced her flesh and his mouth was soon flooded with her blood, like fine wine. It fueled their intimacy and their bodies pressed together until it was impossible to tell where he ended and she began. Her blood coursed through his being, setting every inch of him ablaze. After a moment he drew away, not wanting to take more than she was willing to give.
Elizabeth’s face was the very picture of bliss and the sight entranced him. As he gazed at her, a question blurted out before he realized he was asking it.
“Elizabeth, my love, are you well?”
She opened her eyes and favored him with a dazzling smile.
“Perfectly so, William.”
For a moment she seemed flustered. Then, in an impossibly low voice she said, “I had no notion being bitten could be so euphoric.” Regretting her bold statement, she hid her face in the pillow.
Darcy found that impossibly adorable. “You have no need to be embarrassed. Soon we will be Eternal Partners. There is no shame in what we have done.”
That was not strictly true. What they had shared was akin to anticipating their vows, but that hardly mattered to him. As he held Elizabeth in his arms, he felt as if they had completed the Rite long ago. It did not matter that they had not stood before a minister. She was his and he was hers, irrevocably.
Elizabeth turned her face back to him, relieved he did not think less of her for such wanton behavior.
“I do not want to leave you tonight,” she said. “Or any night.”
He kissed her again. “Do you have any idea how happy I am to hear such a declaration?”
“I have an inkling, yes,” she teased.
They lay curled together for several blissful moments. Elizabeth’s hand unconsciously slipped to the punctures on her neck, already nearly healed.
Darcy looked at her with concern. “Did I hurt you?”
“No,” she said softly. “Quite the opposite.”
“Soon we will not have to stop at kisses and bites, and when that time comes I assure you I will take every care to satisfy you.”
Elizabeth laughed. “I have no concerns in that regard, William. I feel certain our first night as man and wife will be utterly perfect. I only wish we did not have to wait. Soon our families will arrive and we will not have the luxury of time alone together. Is it selfish of me to want you all to myself?”
“If it is, then I am guilty of the same,” Darcy said. He pressed a kiss against her forehead and pulled her tighter against him. He felt her exhaustion. “Sleep well, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.”
Elizabeth laid her head upon his chest and allowed her eyes to close. Within a moment, sleep claimed her.
Darcy remained awake for several hours, grateful she had forgiven him. That she trusted him enough to allow him such liberties was a beautiful gift, one he would treasure from this day to his last. How he had ever been fortunate enough to find her, he would never know, but he thanked God he had. In the past he had imagined a loveless Eternal Partnership born out of duty. But now, holding Elizabeth in his arms, he knew he could live centuries with her and his love for her would only grow. It was a blessing he would never again take for granted.
***
You will make no further attempt to ruin Elizabeth’s reputation. She and Fitzwilliam will soon be married. If you do anything to interfere, I swear on my life I will report your misconduct to the courts. I assure you such action will result in the loss of your life, which I know you value above all else.
Lady Catherine crumpled the letter from her brother-in-law. For two weeks, she had read it each day— it never failed to infuriate her. She cursed the little whore that had not only interfered in the match between her daughter and her nephew, but had led to the discovery of her own previously hidden abilities.
For years, Lady Catherine always had her own way. That was the reason she had disposed of Sir Lewis—he had been discourteous enough to become immune to her Thrall. She felt no guilt for breaking the Dictates by using her secret ability. Her daughter was an empty-headed weakling who needed her guidance, as was everyone she employed. Keeping her brother-in-law Enthralled had been the true challenge—and now all those years of effort had crumbled into dust. She had lost her home and her family—although the latter did not matter. She was banished to the desolate dower house, all because of that wretched country upstart Elizabeth Bennet.
Even now, Lady Catherine contemplated how to ruin Elizabeth without implicating herself. She threw the letter into the fire and watched it burn. Then an idea occurred to her, and she was ashamed of herself for not thinking of it sooner. She knew a person who would do anything for money—the very namesake of the man who had written the infuriating note.
Lady Catherine spent the day preparing for departure to Brighton. Mr. Collins was at her beck and call from the moment she summoned him, and handled the majority of the preparations. He was the only man in the neighborhood who remained loyal to her; her daughter had dismissed the rest of her staff. Anne allowed Mr. Collins to remain because she did not view him as a threat. Disgraceful, wretched girl!
Mr. Collins apprised his patroness of the gossip in Hertfordshire that Mr. George Wickham had long ago departed for Brighton. Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins quitted the dower house early the following morning, eager to reach Brighton later that evening.
When Lady Catherine arrived at the seaside town, she immediately sent Mr. Collins off to arrange lodgings for her at one of the highly fashionable resorts. George Wickham, she knew, would reside near the military encampment, close to the gaming hells and taverns. No doubt he was dependent upon his friends in the regiment and on his card winnings. That was how he had survived after losing the patronage of George Darcy.
After making several inquiries to people who would ordinarily be beneath her notice, she had a good idea of where she would find him.
***
“Dearest George, I am terribly bored. Can we not go to London? I thought Brighton would be so thrilling, but you have not even taken me to a dance or to the theater. Without society I will waste away!” Lydia Bennet—as she was still called, much to her frustration—began to sob in earnest.
“Stop. Tears bore me. We will go to the Americas when I have procured the funds. In case you have forgotten, the fact that you chose to run off to Brighton means you have been ruined. There is no future for us in England.”
Lydia bit back a sob. “But we have not been saving anything. Even I can see that! Can you just not Enthrall Colonel Forster and force him to give you the funds?”
Wickham glowered at Lydia. “You are very stupid. If I did that, everyone in the regiment would be looking for me. We would not be able to escape on a ship soon enough.”
“Forgive my stupidity, my love. I am simply eager to begin our lives together. It is as you have always said—I know nothing.”
Wickham favored her with a small smile. “Soon, my pet, I shall depart for Derbyshire, and then soon after, I will return to you and we shall journey across the sea. But first I must seize my moment of glory, one that will ensure our future.” He would dust Elizabeth right before Darcy’s eyes. Unfortunately, he needed funding to take a trip to the North.
There was pounding on the door of the small room. Wickham rose from the spindly chair to open it.
“George Wickham, I expect you remember me,” Lady Catherine said with an imperious tone. In her fine gown, she looked completely out of place in the dingy room. She brushed past Wickham and took the chair he had just vacated.
Lydia was quite in awe of the grand lady before her, and completely unabashed by her own state of near undress. She rose and curtsied.
Lady Catherine eyed her distastefully. “It appears I have interrupted a liaison. If you will excuse your trollop while we converse, I would be grateful. What I have to say is of the utmost urgency and must be kept secret.”
Lydia was affronted. “Pardon me, but I am no common trollop. I am the future Mrs. Wickham, and I am cousin to your parson. He has told us so much about you. It is impossible for me to not recognize you.”
Lady Catherine was surprised to come across anyone of relation to Mr. Collins, especially this far from Hertfordshire. However, the fact that Wickham still lived in sin made him the perfect candidate for the task she was about to give him.
“You are a Bennet? Then you must leave at once.”
She would not have this girl write to her family and spoil her machinations.
“You need not worry about Lydia, Lady Catherine. She is completely loyal to me, and would never speak a word to anyone if I forbid it. I Sired her months ago, and in truth she has been rather useful.”
Lydia beamed with pride, too foolish to realize her lover’s words were hardly a compliment.
“Oh yes, Lady Catherine, you can trust me to be discreet.”
Wickham might have laughed at the remark were he not so eager to learn what had brought Darcy’s aunt to see him in Brighton. Whatever the reason, he sensed a windfall.
“Wickham, if you do not want to lose a significant amount of money, you will dismiss the girl.”
“Lydia, my pet, leave us.”
Lydia dressed quickly, and left them in peace.
“You may trust the girl, but in my experience, Bennet girls tend to spoil my plans. I shall take no risks.”
“I do not trust her. I have Enthralled her. There is a difference. What is it that you want?”
“You really are a fool. If you were willing to break the Dictates, you should have done so on a person who could increase your circumstances. But that is no matter. Hopefully you will be wise enough to accept my proposition. I expect you still hold feelings of resentment towards my nephew?”
“That is putting it lightly.”
“Well, so do I. He has forsaken my daughter and has broken an engagement I have been planning for nearly three decades—all for the elder sister of your tart. The foolish boy allowed himself to be ensnared by her scheme to elevate her position in life. I will not allow her insolence to stand.”
“And what do you expect me to do about that? Your troubles are not mine.”
“I will pay you well to make them yours,” Lady Catherine countered. “Your task is simple. Darcy and the Bennet girl will take the Eternal Rite in a fortnight. I cannot allow that to happen. But my very life has been threatened by my brother-in-law if I interfere, so I cannot dispose of Elizabeth myself. You will journey north and turn her to dust. If you accomplish the deed without discovery, I will pay you ten thousand pounds. You and your own Miss Bennet can leave England and start a new life. Do we have an accord?” Lady Catherine extended her hand.
“You will pay me first,” Wickham said. “From what I gather, your circumstances have been greatly reduced. How am I to know you will actually be able to pay me such an extravagant sum? Bring me the money within the week, and I shall see Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet divided forever.”
They exchanged wicked smiles.
“Done,” Lady Catherine declared, clasping his hand in hers.
A thin beam of light cut through the darkened room. Elizabeth awakened. Darcy’s arms held her fast against him, and she had no desire to leave the embrace. However, she knew her position was highly improper—to be discovered in Darcy’s bedchamber before the Eternal Rite would cause a scandal. Although after the events of the past week, she could not help but feel they were already Eternally Bonded. They may not have consummated their relationship as man and wife, but they had certainly anticipated the sacred vampiric Rite. They were Eternal Partners, regardless.
Unbidden, Elizabeth’s hand went to the place on her neck where Darcy had bitten her. The marks were nearly healed, but she suspected they would still be visible, and quite difficult to disguise. If she abandoned her wish to complete the Rite with her family present, she could ask Darcy to flout the traditions of his clan and beg they complete the Rite in private. Tonight.
Darcy suddenly stirred, as if sensing her inner conflict. Dark eyes looked up at her, eyes replete with a love that would last forever.
“Elizabeth, the house is still abed; you need not worry about discovery.”
Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the mantel—it was early yet. Still, she felt torn between propriety and a longing to throw caution to the wind. She may have remained in conflict longer, had a knock on the door not pierced the silence of the room.
Elizabeth looked at Darcy, her eyes wide with panic.
Darcy calmly rose from the bed, only in his shirtsleeves.
“I do not require your services at the moment, Mr. Stoker.”
It was not his valet on the other side of the door. Rather a female voice said, “Forgive me, sir, but your father wishes to speak with you, and has already asked I escort my mistress back to her room.”
Darcy turned to find a mortified Elizabeth rising from the bed. She fled out the door and joined Lucy. He began to dress, silently cursing his father for ruining what could have been a perfect morning.
***
George Darcy had once been young and impulsive, which is why he could not completely fault his son’s actions. However, Fitzwilliam Darcy was the future of the Greater Fitzwilliam Vampire Clan and needed to learn that breaking with tradition had consequences.
His son soon appeared before him, a stormy expression clouding his features.
“Shall I be forced to send you away until the Rite, Fitzwilliam? I know you are violently in love with Miss Bennet, but that is no reason to anticipate your vows. What are a few days of waiting when you will have an eternity with her?”
“We did not consummate our relationship, Father. I am a man of honor.” However, he did not look his father directly in the eye.
“Your mortal marriage may remain unconsummated, but the truth is that you and Miss Bennet have bitten each other before undergoing the Eternal Rite. The Blood Magic that exists between a Mated Pair has an undeniable presence. I sensed the truth as soon as I awakened this morning, as did your mother. Honor and tradition demand I send you away since you seem incapable of controlling your baser instincts.”
“That is completely unnecessary. I can control myself.”
“I realize you and Miss Bennet have had an unusual courtship, but clan traditions are not to be taken lightly. If you will not depart willingly, are you prepared to endure the Rite by sundown?”
“I have wanted Elizabeth as my Eternal Partner almost from the moment we met. I would have undergone the Rite weeks ago. Whether she feels the same is less certain. I have taken away her choices before, and I will never do so again. I would rather part from her than force her down the aisle before she is ready.”
“That is noble of you. We shall not be in the dark about her choice for long. Your mother awaits her in her chambers.”
***
Elizabeth was beyond mortified to have been discovered in Darcy’s bedchamber. However, a traitorous part of her heart felt relieved as she walked with Lucy down the dim corridor to her own apartment. After all the misunderstandings and trials she and Darcy had faced since they met, Elizabeth was ready to lay all to rest and begin their eternal lives together. Immediately. If that meant undergoing the Rite in a private ceremony, then so be it. She was resolute in her opinion, and remained so until she and Lucy entered her room and faced Lady Anne Darcy.
Lucy quickly excused herself.
Lady Anne was a formidable woman. Causing her disappointment would be painful as she had supported Elizabeth’s relationship with Darcy from the start. Still, if she was honest with herself, Elizabeth could not claim to regret her actions.
Elizabeth sat, with some apprehension, across from Lady Anne, and was surprised when the older lady rested her hand upon her own. Lady Anne was smiling.
“Elizabeth, I can feel your nerves, but rest assured I did not come here to chastise you. All I have ever wanted for my son was for him to find a true partner, someone who would love him for exactly who he is. He has found that in you—and that is only made clearer by the mark upon your neck.”
“Pardon me, Lady Anne, but I must admit to being surprised by your approval of our impulsivity. Though I will not say I regret what we did, I acknowledge it was highly improper. I would not blame you for being disappointed.”
“Oh, my dear girl, you quite mistake me. You have had such an unusual courtship with William that I hardly expected it to follow the traditional path. What matters is you have found each other, have overcome your misunderstandings, and have come together with an even stronger Bond than before.” Then the smile Lady Anne wore began to fade. “Still, in the name of honor, duty, and tradition, there are now certain steps that must be taken quickly. Are you prepared to endure the Rite without the presence of your family? For the Rite can now no longer be delayed.”
“I am,” Elizabeth declared without hesitation.
Lady Anne’s smile returned.
***
George Wickham slid off his horse and handed the reins to the stable boy.
“Aren’t you Mr. Wickham from Pemberley? My papa has worked there for years, and I used to play in the gardens. Welcome back! I’ll take good care of yer horse, sir.”
Wickham silenced him with a glare. “You will tell no one you saw me here, boy.”
He almost left the boy to go in peace, but then thought better of it, dragged the boy into the alley between the inn and a shop, and snapped his neck. Wickham could not risk being discovered before his opportune moment.
He skulked off towards the main route out of Lambton to Pemberley. Nightfall was several hours away and he still had to gain access to the estate. He was quite certain Darcy had Disinvited him after sending him away with that pitiful sum five years earlier. The saddlebag over his shoulder was filled with Lady Catherine’s money, along with several stakes. He had left a wailing Lydia Bennet behind in Brighton, with no intention of going back for her. His future was in America, after Darcy and Elizabeth were both destroyed.
***
Lord Matlock said, bursting into George Darcy’s study. “Are you out of your senses, George? It would be an insult to the clan to complete the Rite without their presence.”
“It would be an insult to the clan to allow Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth to remain unwed after they have anticipated the ritual,” George Darcy countered.
“Ah, so that is how the land lies? Ah, to be newly in love again. And you always declared your boy would never defy propriety. Very well. In a case such as this, I believe the clan will be forgiving. Of course, the ball will have to be all the more extravagant. The Darcy and Fitzwilliam vampires are loath to travel for anything less than a grand spectacle.”
“Believe me, I am well aware. Our wives are revising the plans for the occasion as we speak.”
“And I am confident they will exceed all expectations. I can almost find it in my heart to pity William—he has always hated being on display.” Lord Matlock laughed heartily. “So it will be an intimate ritual at midnight then?”
George Darcy nodded. “Please write to the rest of the invited members of our clan. I do not have the time.”
***
Darcy paced the billiard room, once again cursing his father’s insistence on following tradition. It meant he could not see Elizabeth before the Rite. Midnight was hours away. It was difficult not to envy his mother, cousin, and sister—they would have the privilege of preparing Elizabeth for the ritual. They would be with her until the moment his aunt and uncle—standing in for the Bennets—gave Elizabeth away.
Colonel Fitzwilliam entered the room suddenly and declared, “So this is where you have chosen to spend your final hours of bachelordom. As the man who is standing up with you, it is my duty to distract you from the woeful separation from your beloved.” The colonel poured two snifters of brandy.
Darcy turned his back to his cousin, not in the mood for humor. He wanted to see Elizabeth. His mother had assured him Elizabeth had no qualms about completing the Rite tonight; but he could not banish the dark thought lurking in the recesses of his mind that she might disappear before they could complete the ritual. Losing her now would break him. He knew it was irrational, but he could not banish the voice. Only being in Elizabeth’s soothing presence would calm him, but alas, that was impossible. This time, he cursed all of English vampire society, for they were responsible for the ridiculous tradition of separating a vampire from his future partner in the final hours before the Eternal Rite. Perhaps none of them, since Henry VIII himself, had ever truly been in love with their partners.
***
Elizabeth perched on the stool in front of the dressing table as Lucy styled her hair into an elaborate coiffure. Amelia and Georgiana were swooning over her dress, hairpins, and silk flowers that had been gathered together at the last minute. The flowers and gown were a deep crimson, which was sensible considering what was involved in the Eternal Rite.
“Oh, Elizabeth, you will be a vision! I only wish the rest of the clan could witness the event. But I am beyond honored to stand up with you.” Georgiana said, beaming.
Elizabeth agreed. It hurt that Jane would not stand up with her and that her family would not be present, especially considering that the events following the Yule Ball had prevented her from attending Jane’s Eternal Rite, but that was the price for her impulsivity. Still, she could not bring herself to regret her actions. In a few hours’ time, she would be bound to Darcy forever, by blood. After the uncertainty that had overshadowed their time together, it gave her comfort to know the waiting would very soon be over.
As Lucy, Georgiana, and Amelia helped her prepare for the life-changing event, Elizabeth was assured all was happening as it should. After Lady Matlock and Lady Anne joined them and added their own congratulations and words of wisdom, Elizabeth suddenly desired a moment of solitude. Of course, what she truly wanted was to be alone with her beloved; but as that was forbidden, she asked the rest of the women to leave her in peace. Midnight was still three hours away.
***
George Wickham allowed the limp body of the chambermaid to fall to the grass before slipping through the servants’ entrance of Pemberley. Everyone was bustling around the grounds preparing for the Eternal Rite. It was miraculous Wickham had made it to the house at all. But stealth had always been one of his greatest skills. He crept up the narrow staircase and carefully made his way towards the family wing. The fallen chambermaid had given him the location of Elizabeth’s room before her demise. The rest of the wing that housed the family rooms was deserted—the occupants were below toasting the soon-to-be-wed couple.
Those hopes would soon be dashed. Wickham held a stake for the bride and the groom.
Wickham pushed open the door to Elizabeth’s suite and there he found the bride, clad in red, gazing out the window, completely unaware of the intrusion. He took a heavy vase from the table, prepared to catch his prey unawares.
She turned and her eyes widened with terror. “What in God’s name are you doing here?” Before she could scream, Wickham crashed the vase into her skull and she tumbled to the floor.
He laid a sheet of parchment on her bed that he had penned earlier, took Elizabeth up in his arms, and jumped from the window, hastily making his way to the rectory at Kympton.
***
Georgiana knocked on Elizabeth’s door. Her mother had sent her to fetch the bride. There was no answer. She knocked again before deciding to enter without permission. The room was as still as a graveyard. A cool breeze wafted in from the open window. Georgiana’s blood ran cold at the thought of Elizabeth abandoning her brother. Reason, however, quickly reasserted itself. There had to be an explanation. Georgiana knew in her heart of hearts that Elizabeth would not abandon her brother by choice.
Then she spotted it—a sheet of parchment on the bed. The sense of dread returned as she grasped it.
Darcy will come to Kympton alone and unarmed at midnight with ten thousand pounds. If he does not comply, I will plunge a stake through the heart of Elizabeth Bennet and burn the ashes.
Georgiana clutched the note to her chest and ran to find her father.
The rectory at Kympton was bathed in shadows. The only sound heard was the unladylike invective uttered by Elizabeth, who had been suddenly awakened when her kidnapper had thrown her to the flagstones.
“You will never get away with this,” she said, as Wickham bound her hands behind her. He pressed a silver cross into her hands. She refused to give him the satisfaction of crying out in pain, but she could feel blood trickling from the wound. He then removed her blood-soaked engagement ring and shoved her to the cold stone floor of the sanctuary.
He held the ring up to examine it. The rich scent of Elizabeth’s blood filled him with carnal desire. He leered at the lady lying at his feet. “I wonder, does your blood taste as delicious as it smells? Is that what drove Darcy to abandon years of pride and tradition to offer his hand to an impertinent country nobody?”
Elizabeth glowered at him.
“I suppose the reason does not matter. Seeing you turn to dust before his very eyes will be punishment enough. I should thank you, Miss Bennet. For I am about to get everything I have ever wanted because of you: my vengeance, Darcy’s demise, and a great fortune.”
***
Without ceremony, Georgiana burst into her brother’s room. William, her father, and Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to her in unison. Darcy, immediately alarmed by the look of devastation on his sister’s face, ran to her side.
“Georgiana, what on earth is the matter?”
“Elizabeth …” Georgiana barely managed to speak through her sobs “…she is gone.” With quaking hands, Georgiana handed her brother the note.
Darcy read it and scowled.
“Georgiana, go and tell our mother. I will deal with this.”
Georgiana fled the room.
The colonel and George Darcy stood, mouths agape, as Darcy broke off one of the legs of the chair, creating a crude stake.
“I am going to Kympton. Do not follow me.”
The other two men read the note in quick succession.
“Are you out of your senses, cousin? If you go to the rectory, you will never return. Do you truly think Wickham will be true to his word?”
“What do you expect me to do, Richard? He has Elizabeth. She is the love of my life. If there is even the smallest chance to save her, I will do what I must.”
“You will not do it alone,” George Darcy declared, and seized the stake from his son.
“If I do not, she will die. I will not allow that to happen. You cannot stop me, Father.”
“No. I will not allow you to break the Dictates again. If you do this, a member of our clan may feel compelled to report you to the courts. I am the one who Turned George Wickham. I am the one who will dispose of him. You go, and Richard and I will follow at a close distance. Rest assured, when the time comes, my aim will be true.”
***
Darcy ran to the rectory, faster than he had ever run in his life. Haunting him the entire way were all the previous moments he could have killed George Wickham. Had he the courage to rid the world of that demon, Elizabeth would not have been prejudiced against him, would not have been shot, and would not have been kidnapped now, just before their wedding. He could have saved her so much pain. He could have saved his sister from a devastating first heartbreak. But he had been too honorable; too concerned with society’s rules and maintaining his clan’s pristine reputation. He had been proud and foolish, and now he might have to pay the ultimate price.
If he lost Elizabeth, he could not live with himself. He would journey to France and step into the sunlight.
At long last he stood before the chapel door at Kympton. A glint near the handle caught his eye—Elizabeth’s engagement ring, stained with blood, hanging from a chain nailed into the wood. He prayed this meant she was still alive. He pocketed the ring and pushed open the door. His father and his cousin were only minutes behind him.
A high-pitched scream pierced the silence, and Darcy hastened to the sanctuary. He arrived in time to witness Wickham burning Elizabeth with a cross.
“Let her go!” Darcy cried, throwing a fistful of bills at the scoundrel’s feet.
“Ah, Darcy, I am glad you had the good sense to come. It would have been a pity to stake your precious Miss Bennet without a witness.”
“I brought the money, Wickham. Release her.”
“I am afraid I cannot do that. You see, I made a promise to a very grand lady that Elizabeth Bennet would never make it to the altar. My patroness is a vengeful, wicked creature. I cannot disappoint her.”
“Do you mean to say you are not acting alone out of misguided vengeance?” Darcy growled.
“My vengeance is far from misguided. But I would be remiss if I failed to mention that Lady Catherine would never forgive me if I allowed Elizabeth to go free.” He forced Elizabeth to her feet and drew into his arms. “If you have any last words, my dear, say them now.”
“Unhand her, George,” a voice boomed from the front of the sanctuary.
Wickham turned to see his Sire, George Darcy, wielding a crossbow. Wickham looked unfazed, and even had the audacity to smirk.
“You would not do it. I am the son you always wanted. Is that not what you always said?”
Wickham pressed the point of the stake against Elizabeth’s breast.
George Darcy did not hesitate. A wooden bolt whizzed through the air, down the aisle of the church, and landed true.
George Wickham disintegrated into ashes.
Elizabeth cried out and collapsed in a heap.
Darcy ran to her side and removed the ropes that were cutting into her flesh.
“Elizabeth, I have failed yet again to protect you. Can you forgive me?”
Elizabeth threw herself into his arms.
“We are free of that monster forever. All I want now is to begin our eternal lives together. Please, take me home.”
Darcy lifted her beloved form and held her close.
“As you wish, my love.”
“Fitzwilliam,” George Darcy said, halting their retreat. “You heard what Wickham said. The clan will have to be notified, and Lady Catherine will need to be dealt with before the Rite can happen.”
“We will deal with that tomorrow. Elizabeth has gone through enough tonight. I am taking her home.” Before his father could utter another word, Darcy left the church.
Colonel Fitzwilliam remained. Seeing the guilt on his uncle’s face he said, “You did what had to be done. You protected our clan.”
“I should never have Turned him in the first place. And I should have handed my sister over to the courts as soon as her Thrall was discovered. None of this would have happened.” George Darcy looked at the pile of ashes on the ground—all that remained of the man he had once valued over his only son. The elder Darcy felt he did not deserve absolution.
“Do not torture yourself with contemplating what could have been. All you can do now is try to do better. I will inform our family of all that has happened, and we will assemble the clan. Take the time you need to grieve.”
The colonel left George Darcy standing beside Wickham’s remains.
And there he stood for the remainder of the night, full of regret and remorse, but he shed no tears for the monster he had created. At dawn, he swept the remains out of the church, and watched as the wind scattered the ashes of his steward’s son.
Anne de Bourgh set the letter on her desk and immediately rang for her butler. “How can I be of service, Mistress?”
“Send four of the footmen to collect my mother from the dower house. We will be making the journey to Pemberley earlier than planned.”
“Forgive me, madam, but I was given to understand that your mother was forbidden from attending the Rite.”
“And she is; but before the Rite there shall be a trial. Tell Mrs. Stevenson to have my trunks packed immediately. We must set off to Pemberley within the hour.”
Anne never imagined her mother would go so far as to conspire to murder an innocent lady to ensure her own fortune and future. Anne was determined to convince the clan to treat her mother and her vile actions with extreme prejudice. In truth, it would be a pleasure to witness her horrid mother crumble into dust.
***
Pemberley was alive with activity. Every staff member was preparing for the expedited arrival of the Greater Fitzwilliam Clan, as well as the Bennets and the Bingleys. Elizabeth and Darcy were disheartened to have their Rite once again delayed, but Elizabeth took comfort in the fact that she would be able to marry the man she loved in the presence of her family, and without the threat of George Wickham or Lady Catherine de Bourgh looming over them.
Three days after the events at Kympton, clan members began to arrive in Derbyshire. They came from all over England, Scotland, Ireland, and even from the Continent. So many Fitzwilliams and Darcys had not been seen in Derbyshire since the Rite of George Darcy and Lady Anne Fitzwilliam.
Elizabeth felt certain she would never remember the names of so many, and mentioned this to Darcy the morning they were all due.
“I cannot help but feel lost in a veritable sea of Fitzwilliams and Darcys. In Meryton, we were rarely in the company of more than two Firstborn Sons.”
Darcy chuckled. “You will charm each and every one of them, my love; and if you do not, it is unlikely there will be another large gathering of the clan until our own son is grown and ready to claim an Eternal Partner. So you need not worry. I am meeting many of these clan members for the first time myself.”
Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “The customs of Firstborn Sons are still so strange to me. I was never so fortunate as to meet my grandparents. Both of yours are alive but you have yet to meet them?”
“As you once said, those in my family prefer to be unsociable and taciturn. They leave their estates as soon as they are ready to retreat and seek a quieter life,” Darcy explained. “Some clans do not divide as the Fitzwilliam Clan has, but I believe it is quite common for Firstborn Sons and their partners to mainly associate with others of their own generation.”
Elizabeth stuck out her chin. “William, I will tell you now that I intend to remain at Pemberley and watch our family grow. I have no desire to retire to Scotland or Ireland, or any other place.”
“If that is what will make you happiest, then that is what we shall do,” Darcy promised. “Perhaps tradition is not always correct.”
“Darcy, I pray you will not say that to our esteemed ancestors. You may cause a conniption.” Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed heartily as he came down the stairs. “Have my parents arrived?”
“They are coming with their parents,” Darcy said. “My father’s parents are expected soon as well.”
Within the hour, the immediate family party at Pemberley joined them. They gathered in front of the house to receive their guests.
Elizabeth was overwhelmed at the sheer number of Darcy and Fitzwilliam cousins that had traveled to Derbyshire. Only the Firstborn Sons and their partners were invited to stay at Pemberley; altogether the party was comprised of forty vampires, spanning several generations. Beyond that, at least another fifty relatives had come to witness the Rite, and that was only on Darcy’s side. Elizabeth’s family party would be far more modest in number, but in total, the wedding assembly would be a large and elaborate affair—not only attended by family but the surrounding neighbors as well.
Also among the clan members were the younger sons and daughters of the Darcys and Fitzwilliams, along with their children. Although they would have nothing to do with Lady Catherine’s trial, the opportunity to gather a few days before the Rite could not be missed. It was rare that the greater Fitzwilliam Clan had such an opportunity to gather.
Elizabeth was presented to each of the clan members in turn, and in large part, she was greeted with civility. There were some whose manners and demeanors were similar to Lady Catherine’s. After all, it went against the values of some of the elders to see their distinguished descendent wed to a lady who had no connections to Firstborn Sons. Despite that, no one was blatantly rude. Though their felicitations were delivered with insincerity, Elizabeth comported herself with all the grace and charm of a lady of the ton. She was every inch the future Mistress of Pemberley.
Among the last to arrive were Darcy’s paternal grandmother and grandfather, Robert and Abigail Darcy, who had moved to Scotland after their son inherited Pemberley. Edward and Cecilia Fitzwilliam came soon after from Brighton, accompanied by the Earl and Countess of Matlock. Lady Anne’s parents dearly loved the sea and were happily retired at one of the Matlocks’ seaside properties.
The elder clan members quickly dispersed to settle into Pemberley’s guestrooms, but the most immediate members of the generation before Darcy’s parents, and the Matlocks, remained and took refreshments in the parlor.
“Now how did you meet Miss Bennet, Fitzwilliam?” asked Abigail Darcy, peering at the young couple over her teacup.
“Mr. Darcy traveled to my neighborhood with his friend, Mr. Bingley. We first met at an assembly where my future husband did not dance a single dance, even when Mr. Bingley insisted he should stand up with me,” Elizabeth said, smiling fondly at Darcy. She still dearly loved to tease him about the early days of their acquaintance.
“That reminds me of your parents’ first assembly together,” declared Robert. “My son was a fastidious young man and would not dance with any of the young ladies after he was first Turned. He claimed doing so would cause them to hope for his hand, and that to have any of them as his Eternal Partner would be a punishment of the cruelest kind! Can you imagine? In my day, I danced with every lady in turn. How else was I to find the perfect partner?” The elderly man favored his wife with a loving gaze.
“Too true,” added Lady Anne’s father Edward, “but I shall never forget when he deigned to dance with my beloved daughter Anne—and only a month later, he begged me for permission to claim her as his Eternal Partner. Catherine was beside herself that her younger sister received an offer first.”
All sense of merriment in the room died at the mention of Lady Catherine. Lord Edward, however, continued. “Sir Lewis de Bourgh was the only man foolish enough to marry her, and it ended with an early stake through the heart. Tell me, George, when is my daughter due to arrive?”
“At first light. Anne de Bourgh wrote to me from a posting inn informing me Catherine has tried to run away twice.”
Lady Cecelia looked towards Elizabeth.
“Miss Bennet, I know it must be overwhelming to have met so many who had reservations about your union with William, but I assure you there are some of us in the clan who value familial harmony and love over tradition, and we do not approve of what Lady Catherine tried to do.”
“I thank you, madam,” Elizabeth said. “Although your son-in-law will tell you William and I would have been stubborn enough to defy clan tradition in any case.”
Lady Cecilia raised a brow at her grandson. “Is that true, William?”
“Irrevocably. Elizabeth Bennet is my match in every way. There is nothing I want more than to put the trial behind us so I can finally claim her as my partner.”
If any of the elder Darcys or Fitzwilliams had doubted the genuine love between the couple, they certainly did not after this. They spent the rest of the afternoon speaking on behalf of the bride and groom to other members of the clan who remained unconvinced.
***
The following morning Anne de Bourgh arrived with her infamous mother in tow.
“You ungrateful little chit!” Lady Catherine cried as several footmen escorted her into the house. “Everything I have ever done was for you, and you repay me by dragging me north against my will.”
“You were summoned to Pemberley by the clan to answer for your crimes—none of which would have benefitted me in any way. Justice will be served, as it should have been years ago.” Anne’s voice was cool and collected. She ignored the deluge of insults her mother continued to shout as they headed towards the ballroom.
The footmen led Lady Catherine to a raised platform surrounded by rows of chairs. It was a far cry from the courtrooms at Old Bailey, but it was where Lady Catherine’s sentence would be passed. Elizabeth and Darcy sat in front of the assemblage of clan members, and the sight was enough to send Lady Catherine into another bout of hysterics. She spoke to the clan at large now, as her own daughter had turned her back on her.
“How dare any of you allow that filthy little fortune hunter to sit amongst the most esteemed clan in all of England. She has no connections! Her aunts and uncles are tradesmen, her cousin is my own parson, her family home is entailed away! She has nothing, and that is why she set her sights on our very own Fitzwilliam Darcy! Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted? Will you allow the next generation of a clan that descends from the court of Henry VIII to become little more than ill-bred gentry?”
“Enough,” Lord Matlock declared in a booming voice. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh, you were brought here to appear before the clan to answer for your crimes. For years you have violated the Dictates. You have Enthralled your family and members of our clan, including your late husband, your daughter, and George Darcy. You attempted to disgrace my nephew’s reputation and ordered your own parson to violate an innocent lady. And, after the clan showed mercy and allowed you to reside in the dower house at Rosings, you conspired to murder Elizabeth Bennet by paying George Wickham to commit the atrocious act. Do you dare to justify your actions?”
Catherine glowered over the room at large and after a tense moment said, “My only regret is that I failed to dispose of Elizabeth Bennet. She had the gall to come between a union nearly three decades in the making. She sought to use the Fitzwilliam Clan to elevate her status and that of her family. Everything I did was done to protect the future of my clan.”
Anne de Bourgh crossed the room to stand beside her mother.
“In the face of this declaration, I implore you to give justice to my mother. She has violated the Dictates for decades, and I have reason to believe she murdered my father in cold blood after her Thrall began to fail. To allow her to live out her days in exile is too merciful.”
Crack! The crowd gasped after Lady Catherine struck her daughter.
“How dare you, impudent child. You will never be the true Mistress of Rosings, and no Firstborn Son will ever have you.”
Anne only smiled. “I believe I will have no trouble finding an Eternal Partner, Mother. But I do have faith you will not live to see it.” She moved to stand between her uncles.
Lord Matlock resumed his address of the clan. “In light of all we have heard today, I do believe there is only one suitable punishment. Who is in favor of Lady Catherine receiving a stake through the heart?”
Anne de Bourgh was the first to raise her hand, and was soon joined by all the other clan members.
“Miss Bennet, do you agree with the sentence?”
Elizabeth was stunned to be consulted—she was not yet a true member of the clan.
“Had Lady Catherine shown any remorse for her actions, I may have implored this gathering to be merciful. But she has not. I accept the sentence.”
“Then we are all in agreement,” Lord Matlock announced. He took a mahogany stake from his pocket and handed it to Anne de Bourgh. “You are her heir. We shall follow the Crown’s example.”
Anne stood in front of her mother, resolute.
“In your way, I believe you loved your family, but had your love been true, you would never have acted against the Dictates. Goodbye, Mother.”
Anne de Bourgh plunged the stake through her mother’s heart and watched as her oppressor crumbled to dust. Then she left the room with no regrets.
“My dear Harriet, Mr. Wickham said he would return in five days with enough money for us to marry and journey to America. Yet it has now been a week! What am I to do?” Lydia threw herself onto the settee in Mrs. Forster’s bedroom, her pale face streaked with tears.
“Go to Derbyshire for your sister’s wedding, and beg for your family to take you back. It is all that remains to be done. I fear Mr. Wickham will not return.”
“I would rather die than face my family again while I remain unwed to my one true love. I should have been married months ago. I—” That was when Lydia felt a piercing sensation in her breast. In her mind, a clear picture began to form: her sister’s ashen face; a dark church; her beloved Wickham crumbling to dust. Suddenly, with absolute certainty, Lydia knew her Sire was lost to her forever. The Bond between them was severed.
“Harriet, write to my family, and tell them I died as Lydia Wickham.”
“Lydia, have you lost your senses? No man is worth the cost of your life.”
“He was my future, and now he is gone. I know it is because of Elizabeth. Tell my family she is to blame. Goodbye, Harriet.”
Lydia left the cottage and walked to a nearby wood, a short distance from the shore. She broke a thick branch off one of the trees, satisfied with the jagged point at one end. It would do well enough. She spoke aloud the vows she had longed to say to her beloved Wickham and once finished, she plunged her crude stake into her heart and disintegrated.
A soft sea breeze scattered her ashes towards the sea, towards the bright future in America that she had envisioned.
***
Elizabeth was awakened by a knock on her door. She wrapped a robe around herself and opened it to find Darcy on the other side.
“It is very bold of you to come to my chamber door before the sun even rises. Have you no concern for my reputation?” she asked, her eyes gleaming as she took his hand and pulled him inside.
“I would be happy to walk you down the aisle tonight, and should anyone catch me, I will tell them the same.”
“You are many things, William, but I never thought impatient was one of them.”
“You know perfectly well I was prepared to marry you within weeks of meeting you,” Darcy said, pulling her tightly against him. “The fates are cruel to have delayed our marriage so long.”
“It is only one more day of waiting, my love. What is a day compared to an eternity?”
“I shall endeavor to adopt this perspective, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. I also confess I want to steal a bit more time with you before your family arrives this afternoon.”
“Very wise of you, sir. For once my mother arrives, I doubt I shall be able to escape her company. There is no occupation she loves more than preparing a daughter for her wedding.”
“When the clan leaves, and your family departs, I would like to take you away somewhere. Tell me, Elizabeth, where have you always longed to go?”
“Italy, I think, would be divine.”
“Then we shall travel to Italy. I will have my secretary make the arrangements.”
***
“Charles, when will we arrive at Pemberley?” Jane asked.
“In an hour or two,” Mr. Bingley answered. “I know you are eager to see your sister. I cannot blame you.”
“The post has not been kind to our family of late,” Jane said sadly, glancing down at the newest message they had received before departing Hertfordshire for the Rite in Derbyshire.
“Pray, Jane, do not mention it,” Mrs. Bennet cried, “for every time I think of my dear Lydia’s untimely demise, I cannot stop sobbing for an hour at least.”
“I just do not understand how she could have been fooled so completely by Mr. Wickham,” Kitty wailed.
“The man is a demon!” Mrs. Bennet said with a sob. “I always said how despicable he was! I am glad we are free of him, but I shall never forgive him for corrupting my darling Lydia. Oh, Jane, had your father permitted us all to go to Brighton, she would have been properly looked after, and this would not have happened.”
“We lost our daughter long ago,” Mr. Bennet said coldly to his wife. “I do not want to hear of it anymore. It will be difficult enough to break the news to Lizzy.”
Mrs. Bennet looked as if she had more to say on the subject, but she fell silent. Kitty sniffled into her handkerchief, and Mary remained studiously reading her copy of Fordyce’s Sermons. Each of the Bennets were grieving the loss of Lydia in their own manner, or—in the case of Mr. Bennet—trying, and failing, to ignore it altogether.
***
The Darcys and Fitzwilliams stood in front of Pemberley awaiting the arrival of the Bennets. At long last, two carriages came down the road that led to the main house. Elizabeth felt as though a lifetime had passed since she had seen her family, though it had been only a few months. After introductions were made, and the new arrivals led into the house, Elizabeth embraced each of her parents and siblings in turn, as well as Mr. Bingley, whom she could now greet as a brother.
Elizabeth looked around. “Where is Lydia?”
The shadows that fell over their faces informed her that some sort of tragedy had befallen her youngest sister.
“It will be impossible to conceal for long, but perhaps we can speak in private,” Mr. Bennet said gravely. “I would not wish to trouble those I have just met. Mrs. Bennet, Mary, and Kitty will remain here, for they have discussed the matter enough. Mr. Bingley, you will look after them?”
“Upon my word,” Bingley said. “Come, let us adjourn to the sitting room. Lady Anne always serves the finest refreshments to company.”
Mrs. Bennet, who was suddenly very pale, gratefully took her son-in-law’s arm. Kitty and Mary followed.
Elizabeth offered to show her father and sister to her bedroom, so that they would have privacy. Darcy moved to follow.
Mr. Bennet was about to stop him, but Jane said softly, “He deserves to know the truth, Papa.”
Mr. Bennet did not seem to agree, but relented.
Elizabeth caught Darcy’s hand in hers. Whatever ill tidings her family had brought, she knew she could face them with William at her side.
Once they were gathered in her sitting room, Elizabeth closed the door. She turned to face her family, hands on her hips. “Well?”
“Lydia is lost to us. We received this from Colonel Forster,” Jane said, handing her a letter.
Elizabeth snatched the missive. Upon reading it, tears filled her eyes.
“Is it certain, absolutely certain?” she asked, her voice quavering. She handed to the letter to Darcy, who read it in turn.
“Quite so. Lydia stated her intentions to Mrs. Forster upon realizing Mr. Wickham had abandoned her,” Mr. Bennet confirmed.
“To think that I may have prevented it,” Elizabeth cried. “I knew what he truly was, and I kept it from my own family.”
“No, Elizabeth,” Darcy said, “it was I who allowed that man to walk free on multiple occasions. It was I who remained silent. Had I been more forthright upon his first coming into Hertfordshire, no one would have trusted the man.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head.
“Mr. Darcy, it is very gallant of you to try and take responsibility for this tragedy, but I did not share this news with you to absolve me of blame. I shared it because it could not be contained. Lydia was lost to us long before now, and in light of the present circumstances we must move on and not let this tragedy cast a pall on the festivities.”
Mr. Bennet then turned to Elizabeth.
“My dear Lizzy, that you thought you could protect your wayward sister is admirable, but pray, do not let this ruin what should be a joyous occasion. No one in the family blames you—or Mr. Darcy, for that matter. All of the blame lies with Mr. Wickham, and he will trouble us no longer.”
Much as she wanted to follow her father’s advice, Elizabeth was unsure that was possible.
Jane took her sister’s hand in hers. “Truly, Lizzy. There was nothing any of us could have done to save our poor Lydia. We must trust she is now at peace.”
Jane turned to Darcy. “I thank you, sir, for saving Lizzy from Mr. Wickham. You have done our family an incredible service.”
“I trust you will continue to protect my daughter for the rest of your days,” Mr. Bennet said.
“I will,” Darcy promised. “I am only sorry I could not extend the courtesy to the rest of your daughters.”
“What is done is done,” Mr. Bennet said gravely. “I wished to speak of it in private in hopes of never speaking of it again once we leave this room. Jane and I will leave Lizzy to mourn. Come, Jane.”
Darcy was surprised by Mr. Bennet’s willingness to leave him alone with Elizabeth in her bedchamber.
Before leaving the room, Mr. Bennet turned and said, “We will see you both downstairs in ten minutes.”
As soon as the door closed again, Elizabeth took solace in Darcy’s embrace.
“Will this man ever stop haunting our lives?”
“He is dead, Elizabeth,” Darcy said. He wiped her tears with his handkerchief and kissed her forehead. “He will never darken our lives again.”
Darcy wished more than anything that he could relieve Elizabeth of her guilt, but he knew better than most the pain of failing to protect one’s sister. He felt Elizabeth’s sorrow in his heart and longed to banish it forever.
“Elizabeth, it was not your fault; and to continue to believe that was will only cause you further pain.”
“Have you ever forgiven yourself for failing your sister?” Elizabeth asked earnestly.
No. He had not; but Georgiana had forgiven him. Aloud he said, “No, but of this I am certain—we will shoulder our burdens together, and in time we will learn to forgive ourselves, as others have already done.”
The promise of an unburdened future was enough. Tomorrow, her life with the man beside her would begin, and she intended it to be a happy one, free from the ghosts and sorrows of the past.
Elizabeth was awakened, unceremoniously, by her mother and sisters at sunrise the following morning. Lucy had already drawn a hot bath and was preparing a more elaborate toilette than usual. Within an hour, Elizabeth was bathed and in her wedding gown. Lucy began to style her hair.
Mrs. Bennet hovered nearby. “Oh, my dear Lizzy, how clever you were to catch the eye of Mr. Darcy. You will have such jewels, such pin money, and you will spend the rest of your days in style and comfort. I could not have asked for more than having two daughters so well matched.”
“Mama, I am not marrying him for his wealth,” Elizabeth said disapprovingly. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Lucy smile at that. Despite his poor first impressions in Hertfordshire, Darcy was well liked, admired, and respected by everyone at Pemberley, and Elizabeth imagined if she had not already loved him before having arrived here, seeing him in his ancestral home surrounded by people who loved him would have gone a long way to convince her of his worth.
“Of course not, my dear, but it must certainly make living with the man more pleasant. If only he was as amiable as his friend, but I suppose no husband is perfect.”
“Mama!” Elizabeth and Jane cried in unison.
To her credit, Mrs. Bennet seemed to realize she had erred.
“I will not hear a word against Mr. Darcy, Mama. He is the love of my life and, despite what you may think, he is the best man I have ever known.”
“Forgive me, Lizzy. I misspoke. I will not do so again.” And she was true to her word.
The Bennet women, as well as Georgiana and Amelia, spent the entire day closeted away with the bride. An hour before the Rite was to begin, Lizzy asked to speak privately with Jane. The rest of the women made their way downstairs and on to the church.
“Jane, you are the only person I could think of to ask about such a subject. I would not dare to speak of such a thing with Lady Anne or Lady Matlock.”
Her sister smiled. “You are wondering, I suppose, about the Rite and what it entails. Charles and I were unable to have a public ceremony in the wake of the burning of Netherfield. Our ceremony was private and only attended by the minister and our family. I wish you could have come.”
Jane took an unnecessary breath. “In many ways, the Rite is much like any other marriage ceremony. Where it differs is the exchange of blood. The priest will cut each of your hands and you will drink from each other before your hands are fasted and your blood is joined. It is oddly exhilarating and intimate when your husband drinks from you for the first time. The Bond between a Firstborn Son and his partner deepens immeasurably. I sometimes can even hear Charles’ thoughts, and I can always feel what he feels. Oh, Lizzy, I am so grateful you have found the right person to share such an experience with. Truly, there is no need to be nervous.”
Elizabeth smiled. Her sister truly was an angel.
“Jane, would it offend you if I made a shocking confession?”
“Nothing you could say would offend me, Lizzy.”
“In truth, William has already drunk from me, and I from him.”
Jane gasped, but did nothing more to express her discomfort or surprise. After Elizabeth explained herself, Jane said, “Your love must be true if you were willing to anticipate the Rite. Lizzy, you and Mr. Darcy will do very well for each other.”
“My happiness would be complete if you and Mr. Bingley would move to Derbyshire,” Elizabeth said, grasping her sister’s hand.
“I was going to wait until after your wedding … it was supposed to be a surprise. Truthfully, Bingley and I are considering moving north. Netherfield is beyond repair, and Bingley wrote to Darcy a fortnight ago asking him to make enquiries about any estates that may be for sale. Your future husband and his steward are very efficient and have already given us a list of properties. We will begin touring them after your wedding ball.”
Elizabeth embraced her sister. “You have given me the best wedding gift, my dearest Jane. It will be wonderful to raise our families together.”
“Yes, it will. And did you know, Kitty confided in me her interest in the younger Fitzwilliam cousin. Apparently, they happened upon each other in the rose garden yesterday and she was quite taken with him.”
“I shall put in a good word,” Elizabeth said. “James is a sweet young man.”
Mrs. Bennet’s voice sounded through the door.
“Elizabeth. Jane. We must get to the church!”
The sisters rose and hastened to join their mother.
“Really, Elizabeth, you cannot be late for the most important night of your life,” Mrs. Bennet scolded.
Elizabeth bit back her laughter as her mother practically dragged her towards the entrance hall. Jane and Elizabeth, accompanied by Mr. and Mrs. Bennet, rode in a carriage to the church. The midnight sky was clear and bright under the light of the full moon.
At the church, Mr. Bennet handed his daughters out of the carriage and took his place beside the bride. The rest of the Fitzwilliam Clan, the Darcys, the Bingleys, Charlotte, Mary, and Kitty were already seated in the church. Mrs. Bennet and Jane went in first, and Jane—as she was standing up with her sister—took her place beside Colonel Fitzwilliam.
The guests all rose when Elizabeth and her father made their entrance. Truthfully, Elizabeth had no attention to spare for any of them. Her gaze was immediately ensnared by her beloved William, who stood at the end of the aisle, awaiting her. She would have taken his breath away had he not been a Firstborn Son. And he would have had the same effect on her.
Before releasing her hand, Mr. Bennet leaned in and said in a heartfelt voice, “I could not have parted with you for anyone less worthy, my Lizzy. God bless you both.” He dropped her hand and Elizabeth kissed his cheek before moving to take her place across from Mr. Darcy.
The parson cleared his throat and began the ceremony. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Firstborn Son and this Woman in Holy Matrimony, which is an honorable estate; and therefore, is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy man's carnal lusts and appetites; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God. We are here today to join this Man and this Woman with the Eternal Rite, so they may spend the rest of their days in the service of God and the honorable legacy and traditions of His Majesty Henry VIII and the first generation of Firstborn Sons. Into this Holy Estate these two persons present come now to be joined.”
The parson turned and took a small knife in hand. “Will the bride present her hand?”
Elizabeth offered her hand to the minister and he sliced the fleshy part of her palm.
“Will the groom offer his hand?”
Darcy did the same.
“And now the congregation shall witness the first exchange of blood.”
Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. He kissed her palm before sampling her life’s blood.
A thrill pulsed through Elizabeth to the very core of her being. Then it was her turn. She brought his beloved hand to her mouth and drank; and as she did, she could feel his love for her.
The spell of the moment was broken when the minister spoke again.
“The bride and groom shall now join hands for the hand fasting and exchange of vows.”
He took a strip of silk from the altar and wound it about their hands.
“There is nothing more sacred than the combining of blood before the eyes of God. I, in the name of our Lord, bind this Woman to this Man for all of eternity. From this day onward, they shall never be parted, and will stand by one another in times of peace, and in times of adversity.” The minister tied off the cloth.
“Wilt thou have this Woman to thy Wedded Wife and Eternal Partner, to live together after God's ordinance in the Holy Estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, from this day to your last?”
“I will.” Darcy had never sounded so sure of anything in his life.
“Wilt thou have this Man to thy Wedded Husband and Eternal Partner, to live together after God's ordinance in the Holy Estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, from this day to your last?”
“I will,” Elizabeth said.
The minister unbound their hands and presented Darcy with a silver wedding band.
Darcy and Elizabeth locked eyes as Darcy slid the ring onto her finger and said the Holy words.
“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”
“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. You may kiss your Eternal Partner.”
Darcy swept Elizabeth into his arms and kissed her longer than strictly appropriate. The guests were rather indulgent, but it was the parson who broke them apart when he cleared his throat.
“I present to this congregation Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, the future of the Fitzwilliam Clan. May they uphold the traditions of this noble family.”
The church erupted into applause and Darcy and Elizabeth walked down the aisle, now eternally bound.
After all the trials and tribulations they had endured, Darcy could hardly believe he was walking down the aisle with his wife and Eternal Partner. As they exited the church, they were pelted with scarlet rose petals. Outside the church, all the tenant families from Pemberley, as well as those from the nearby Matlock estate awaited them, praising Elizabeth for her beauty, and congratulating Darcy himself for being so fortunate to have found such a bride. He still found it incredible that God had gifted him with such a lady. He could feel her love for him, and now that they had completed the Rite, their Bond was stronger than ever. With great pleasure Darcy handed his wife into the carriage—which was bound for Pemberley House—where they would open the wedding ball that would last until sunrise. In general, the ball was the thing he dreaded the most about matrimony. He would much rather whisk his beloved away and ravage her.
Elizabeth squeezed his hand. “My love, you are beginning to look as you did the day we first met. Have you already grown tired of married life? If so, I shall have to redouble my efforts to remind you that taking me as your Eternal Partner was the right decision.” Her eyes were glimmering and, in truth, she had sensed the reason for his dour expression.
“That is a foolish question,” Darcy said. “Taking you as my wife was the happiest moment of my life. I only wish I did not have to share you for the next six hours. It is a cruel tradition to force a Firstborn Son and his bride to delay their wedding night.”
“I believe, when Henry VIII married each of his wives after Catherine of Aragon, he took his bride in front of his entire court. It was part of the festivities. I am grateful society has moved away from that tradition! I could not bear to have any other female look upon you during such an act.”
“Nor could I. You are the only lady whose attention I shall ever desire.”
“Then, Husband, let us make the most of these precious minutes of privacy, before we are forced to share each other with the rest of our clan. Perhaps I may be as bold as to suggest that we take a meandering path back to Pemberley house.”
“As you wish, Mrs. Darcy.” Darcy rapped the roof of the carriage with his walking stick, signaling the driver to stop. He left his wife only for a moment to change the road they were to take home. When he returned to her side, Darcy kissed Elizabeth deeply, then he lowered his mouth to her neck, and bit down gently.
Elizabeth gasped and collapsed into her husband’s arms, waves of wanton pleasure coursing through her. She clung to him as he trailed kisses and nibbles upon every inch of exposed flesh. His hands began to wander towards the ruby hairpins he had gifted her.
Elizabeth had the forethought to stop his hand, saying, “William, a disheveled appearance would only betray our activities—and without Lucy, I am powerless to repair that.”
“Your point is well made, my love, however much I may resent it.” He kissed her tenderly, and then adjusted her sleeves into their correct position.
“My first vow to you as your husband is to whisk you away before sunrise.”
“That is a risky endeavor indeed. Your new mother-in-law will not thank you for taking away the bride before the festivities end.”
“Perhaps not, but I do believe receiving a grandchild as soon as possible would allay her ire.”
Elizabeth would have flushed deeply had she been capable. Instead, she smiled.
“Your assessment is quite accurate. Though bold of me to say, I would rather it take some time to give my mother a grandchild, as I am looking forward to multiple attempts.”
“Your boldness is endearing, Mrs. Darcy, and I give you permission to be so bold whenever you wish.” He gave her a roguish smile and kissed her once more.
When the carriage finally came to a halt in the front of the house, Darcy handed Elizabeth out and the newly married couple proceeded inside.
They were greeted by a rather large crowd, and Elizabeth felt her husband stiffen slightly beside her. Likely he would never be completely comfortable around large crowds. After they opened the ball and dozens of acquaintances came to offer felicitations, she watched Darcy receive them with a new warmth, quite unlike how he had initially behaved in Hertfordshire. She knew, without having to hear it, that he was drawing strength from her natural outgoing and vivacious attitude. It was an hour at least before the couple could break free from the crowd of well-wishers.
They first sought out Jane and Bingley.
Bingley smiled broadly and clasped Darcy’s hand. “Congratulations, Darcy—now we are brothers. Did you ever imagine it would be so?”
“I had hoped it would be so, Bingley,” Darcy said, as they both turned upon their wives. “Shall I tell my wife your good news?”
Elizabeth turned to Darcy and said, “You have been very sneaky, my dear husband, but sisters do not keep secrets from each other, and Jane shared the happy news with me a few hours ago.”
Darcy was so pleased by Elizabeth’s happiness at the prospect of having her sister closer, he could not be unhappy about being unable to surprise her.
“My dear Jane and I are very excited to tour the properties, although it seems likely I may choose the first estate we view. We passed by River Run on the way to Pemberley, and I think it charming. I pointed it out to Jane on our way here.”
“I was equally delighted and it is but twenty miles from Pemberley. I would love to be so close to my sister and future nieces and nephews.” Jane looked around before adding, “And raising our own child there would be delightful.”
Elizabeth’s eyes lit up. “Truly?” she said.
“Yes! It is early, but you will soon be an aunt!”
Elizabeth embraced her sister once again. “I cannot imagine being any happier than I am today, my dear sister.” Then she congratulated Bingley as well.
Affable as ever, Bingley said, “I believe that is a challenge my friend Darcy must rise to, Lizzy. How do you think he shall fare?”
“I look forward to finding out,” Elizabeth said. “Now if you will excuse us, I have yet to dance with my new husband, and it looks as though the guests are eager for the dancing to begin.”
The couples divided and took their places on the dance floor. The orchestra began to play a waltz, and Elizabeth was pleased to recognize it as the song to which she and Darcy had first danced. She smiled brightly at him. “I did not realize you were so sentimental, William,” she said, squeezing his hand.
He whirled her around and said, “That was the first day I was able to take you in my arms. For those few precious moments I felt complete, and when the dance ended, I felt as though a part of me had been ripped away.”
“You felt so deeply even then? I never would have guessed. You did not say a word during the entire dance.”
“I was far too occupied by your hammering pulse and your intoxicating scent to say anything at all. Had I spoken, I surely would have made a misstep and frightened you away.”
His hand tightened around her, and he spun her around in time to the melody.
“It is just as well you did not speak. Now I will make an admission that will shock you. During that waltz, I forgot about my determination to not like you. I was enraptured, and secretly thrilled to be in your arms. When the music stopped, the spell broke, and I was determined to put as much distance as possible between us to regain my perspective.”
Darcy smiled. “And will you run away again when this waltz ends?”
“If I ever run away, I would only do so with you by my side,” Elizabeth declared. When the song ended, they walked off the dance floor together, fingers entwined.
Colonel Fitzwilliam found them. As the second set began, he pointed to a blossoming new couple.
“Elizabeth, it would appear you and your sisters are very adept at charming the men associated with your husband. Ever since those two were introduced, my brother James has been quite taken with Miss Kitty.”
Elizabeth turned to observe James and Kitty in the middle of the line of couples. Their joy partnering together as the dance began was undeniable.
“How clever of you to play matchmaker, Richard,” Elizabeth said.
“It is a role I will happily take on in the service of my family.”
“But when will you find your own partner?” Elizabeth asked.
He was about to answer that he had no intention of marrying any time soon when he spotted Charlotte Lucas walking across the room. His blood pulsed and he felt the Call.
Elizabeth followed his gaze and smiled.
“Charlotte is most advantageously unattached, and may I say I am most grateful for that, as no lady could be satisfied living an eternity with Mr. Collins.”
“Oh, I would not dream of pursuing Miss Lucas. Her marriage was only just annulled,” he said, even as his very instinct rebelled at the sentiment.
“Richard, I can assure you Charlotte is not grieving that loss.” Elizabeth then turned to her husband. “William, I believe we will need to invite Charlotte to Pemberley in the very near future. Richard helped bring us together. Should we not repay his kindness?”
Darcy favored his wife with an indulgent smile.
“It would be a novelty to meddle in Richard’s affairs. Perhaps there may be another wedding very soon. Or even two. Lady Matlock would be much obliged to see both her sons settled.”
The colonel, although pleased with the idea of spending more time with Miss Lucas in the future, suddenly understood why Darcy did not always appreciate his meddling and, searching to change the subject said, “I can already see that the festivities are wearing upon you, Darcy. I imagine you would be much happier in the sole company of your new wife.”
“A simpleton could deduce that, Richard,” Darcy said. “If she and I could successfully disappear without notice, we would do so. But my father would never forgive me if we missed his toast.”
“Nor would my mother if she were unable to spend the whole of the evening boasting of her triumph to the guests from Hertfordshire.” Lizzy laughed at that idea.
Like clockwork, they heard Mrs. Bennet’s voice cut through the noise of the crush.
“This is the happiest day of my life! Two daughters well married. My dear Mrs. Gardiner, I do not know how I could be any happier—unless my dear Kitty manages to gain a proposal from young Mr. Fitzwilliam. Oh, if that were so, I could die happy.”
Elizabeth smiled and, to her delight, Darcy did not cringe as he used to whenever her mother boasted or voiced her wishes. However, she did take pity and whisked him away from her mother and the small grouping of neighborhood friends and family gathered around her. She guided him to a secluded corner of the room and kissed him lightly.
“Not that I am displeased, but what did I do to gain such a favor?”
“You bore my mother’s silliness with grace,” Elizabeth said. “I know it is not an easy task, and I know how it used to grate upon you.”
“She is now my mother as well, and I have learned the importance of tolerating the flaws of one’s family. She is not malicious. In any case, some of my family members have proven to be far worse.”
Elizabeth laughed and kissed him again. “I believe that is the most charitable thing ever uttered about my mother in high society.”
They stole another moment together before rejoining the festivities.
The bride and groom passed the next hour dancing with other family members. Darcy danced with each of his new sisters in turn, as well as Georgiana and Amelia. Elizabeth danced with Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley, her father, and even her father-in-law.
“I must thank you, Elizabeth. You have made my son incredibly happy, and I am ashamed it took me so long to see it.”
“Let us not speak of past errors, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said. “We are family now, and all is forgiven.”
“You are no doubt the most generous lady in England when it comes to your capacity for forgiveness,” George Darcy said. “I am honored to have you as my daughter.”
“And I am honored to have joined the Fitzwilliam Clan,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you for your blessing.”
After the dancing ended, it was at last time for the wedding toast and then the evening would come to a close.
Everyone gathered in the ballroom and looked towards George and Lady Anne Darcy and the new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.
The Bennets, Darcys, and Fitzwilliams gathered together at the front of the crowd.
“As one of the members of the esteemed Fitzwilliam Clan and the father of the groom, it is my pleasure to toast the new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy. I will own to initially being opposed to the match, but since my son brought Elizabeth home to Pemberley, it has become obvious how very much in love he is. Elizabeth, though unfamiliar with the Fitzwilliam Clan, did not fail to quickly charm everyone she met, and convinced all of us that her love for my son was true. In our clan we value tradition—and while that should largely continue—I am grateful for the new perspective Elizabeth brings to our family. The love Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth share is unmatched, and their Bond as Eternal Partners shall never be broken. Let us all raise our glasses to the future of our clan.”
Glasses were raised in unison, and for the first time in years, Darcy truly felt loved and valued by his father. It was an incredible gift to receive on this auspicious day. Darcy took Elizabeth’s hand in his and kissed it.
The ballroom erupted into applause as the guests toasted to the couple’s future.
Soon after that the guests began to depart, much to Darcy’s relief. At long last only the bride and groom, and their immediate families remained in the ballroom. Elizabeth embraced each of them in turn and accepted their felicitations.
Darcy received a final round of congratulations, the last from his father.
“Fitzwilliam, I have never said this, but I truly am proud of you and the man you have become. I hope you will be very happy with Elizabeth.”
“I will. Thank you, Father.”
Lady Anne Darcy took her place in front of the newlyweds.
“I wish you all the best, my dears. Your father and I will depart with the rest of the clan tomorrow, so you can enjoy your privacy.”
Elizabeth took her mother-in-law’s hands.
“In the name of defying tradition, I hope you will return soon, and stay until your grandchildren are grown. William missed out on so much time with you and his father.”
“If you wish it, it shall be done,” Lady Anne said, smiling at the prospect of seeing her son and his bride flourish and begin their family. It went against the tradition of the clan. Lady Anne had been resigned to leaving the home she loved so that it could truly become a new home for William and Elizabeth. Now she would not have to leave, and could help Elizabeth become a wonderful Mistress of Pemberley. It was all she could have wished for.
Elizabeth and Darcy bid adieu to the Bennets, who would also depart the following morning and return into Hertfordshire.
“Elizabeth, I wish you and Mr. Darcy all the best. And I trust you to take care of my daughter,” said Mr. Bennet.
“I will do everything in my power to make her happy, sir,” Darcy said.
“Yes, I believe you will.”
Mrs. Bennet was too overcome with joy to say anything. Or perhaps she had exhausted all her joyous raptures through the course of the evening. In lieu of words she embraced and kissed each of them and allowed her husband and daughters to escort her to the guest wing. It was the best wedding gift she could have given the new couple.
Darcy wasted no time before escorting Elizabeth to his bedchamber. He stopped in front of the door and scooped her into his arms.
“William, what on earth are you doing?”
“I did not carry you over the threshold of Pemberley itself, so this threshold will have to suffice.”
Elizabeth giggled as he carried her into the room and over to the bed. He laid her down on the plush mattress and bestowed upon her a lingering kiss.
“Alone at last, Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered against her flesh. “What am I to do with you now?”
“I have several ideas,” Elizabeth said, as she began to divest him of his jacket and waistcoat.
Darcy, however, was more eager to remove those hairpins—as he had wished to do in the carriage—and in moments Elizabeth’s silken locks cascaded down her back. A whiff of lavender filled his senses. The heady scent compelled him to kiss her deeply. Elizabeth moaned as he pressed her back into the mattress. Her hair fanned out across his pillow, just as he had dreamed it would, almost since their first meeting. He could wait no longer to consummate their marriage. There would be time enough later to take it slowly.
“I must have you now, Elizabeth Darcy, or perish.”
“William,” Elizabeth gasped, overcome with longing, “make me your wife.”
Darcy happily consented to her plea. He rucked up the folds of scarlet silk and velvet. “Elizabeth Darcy, I love you more than anything.” He kissed her again, and took his place as her husband. They came together in a blissful union. Darcy lowered his mouth to her neck, and bit down, her blood filling his mouth. Soon both were carried away on a cresting wave of passion, now more deeply Bound than ever before. When they parted, their hands remained joined, and Elizabeth marked Darcy as her own. They lay together, spent; but they would make love well into the afternoon, until their obligation to farewell their families took them from the bedroom.
“Elizabeth,” Darcy said, his voice thick.
Elizabeth felt his nervous energy, and longed to soothe any unspoken fear.
“What is it?”
“I hope this will not seem too forward, but it is my wish that we share this room. It can be redesigned to your tastes, but I could not bear to have you in the mistress’ chambers. I very much wish for you to awaken in my arms each morning.”
“Is that all? William, I have no desire to sleep anywhere but in your arms. As for this room, it is perfect. And I have already stated my intentions to defy tradition.” She kissed him and then snuggled closer to his side.
He wrapped his arms more tightly around her.
“Good,” he rumbled.
Elizabeth could sense Darcy was resisting sleep.
“Sleep, my love, we have all the time in the world.” And soon, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were asleep in each other’s arms.
August 1814
“Charlotte, I am very happy for you. Richard is a fortunate man.”
The former Colonel Fitzwilliam, now the new Earl of Matlock, grasped Elizabeth’s hand. “Indeed, I am fortunate. Fate is full of surprises. As a second son, I never imagined being able to afford a wife, let alone being able to marry for love. It appears Mr. Collins did something right after all.” He was, of course, referring to Charlotte’s expulsion from Hunsford.
“Never has such genuine praise been given to Mr. Collins, my dear.” Charlotte beamed at her new husband. She had never dreamed she would be given a second chance. In fact, she had never imagined happiness in marriage at all.
“I must thank you both for inviting me to Pemberley; otherwise, my beloved Richard and I may have never come together.”
Elizabeth and Darcy smiled at the new couple, happy that their dearest friends in the world had found each other, and gratified that their attempt at matchmaking had been successful.
February 1815
“Master Fitzwilliam, you should be elsewhere,” Mrs. Norris, the midwife, tutted. “Mrs. Darcy is in no state to be seen.”
“Mrs. Norris, it is my wish that my husband stay beside me as I deliver our child into this world,” Elizabeth said, breathing heavily, not out of necessity but to dispel her pains.
Mrs. Norris had been warned Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were quite untraditional in many ways, but she had not expected Mr. Darcy to be present in the birthing room. However, she could recognize a losing battle.
“Very well, but you must not get in my way. It is a delicate procedure. You may sit at her bedside and hold her hand.”
Four hours later, Thomas Fitzwilliam Darcy entered the world. He was a precious infant with chubby cheeks and ivory skin. Mrs. Norris cleaned and swaddled the infant and presented him to his proud parents.
“He looks like you,” Darcy said, looking down at the sleeping infant.
“Perhaps, but in temperament, he appears to favor his father. He is calm and serene in my arms.”
September 1818
“She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld,” Georgiana said, as Elizabeth handed her the baby.
Thomas Darcy, now a young man of three, came over to his mother and aunt. “Auntie Gigi, I want my sister!”
Elizabeth smiled at her son. “Thomas, you played with her all morning. Aunt Georgiana has just returned from London and has yet to spend time with dear Anna.”
Thomas was unhappy, but accepted his mother’s words and resumed his play.
Georgiana cooed over her new niece, now nine months old. “She truly is a beauty. She looks just like you. Thomas seems to favor his father.”
Elizabeth nodded. “In looks and in temperament,” she said. “Now tell me, dear Georgiana, when will your brother and I be able to congratulate you on a happy union?”
“Can you keep a secret?” Georgiana asked with a conspiratorial grin.
“Better than most in our family, I would imagine.”
“Mr. Hawkins is going to ask my father for permission while on their hunting trip!”
“Oh, Georgiana, Mr. Hawkins will do very well for you. I am so happy—and he is not ten miles from here! Anna and Thomas will be so happy to have their Aunt Gigi nearby.”
Georgiana smiled. Spending eternity with someone she truly loved was all she had ever wanted. Years ago, she had been tricked into believing herself in love. Falling in love as an older, wiser lady had certainly benefitted her courtship with Mr. Hawkins, a well-to-do Firstborn Son and heir of an estate slightly smaller than Pemberley. To be happily settled so close to her dear brother and sister only completed the perfect picture that was her future.
August 1820
The Darcys, the Hawkins, the Bingleys, and both of the Fitzwilliam brothers and their wives all gathered on Pemberley’s lawn for a picnic.
“My dear Kitty, I am so glad you finally put James out of his misery and accepted his hand. I would never have heard the end of it, had you not,” Richard declared. “I swear, over the past five years, he has composed an entire book of sonnets on the subject of your many charms.”
Kitty laughed and James turned rather red.
The children—Thomas Darcy, Eliza and Elinor Bingley, and Lucas Fitzwilliam, all jumped into the lake in unison. Anna Darcy, dismayed that she was too little to join them, sat beside her mother and father. “Mama, Papa, when can I swim?”
“Soon, my dear. You are as adventurous as your mother.”
“I am always too little to play with the others,” Anna complained.
“You will not be the youngest for much longer, my love,” Elizabeth said, placing a hand on her increasing middle.
Anna’s expression brightened. “Oh yes, soon I will have a baby sister.”
“What makes you so certain?” Darcy asked.
“Mama has so many sisters. I want one as well.”
And three months later, Anna Darcy’s wish came true.
February 1836
Darcy, Elizabeth, Anna, young Jane and little Henry, all stood in a semi-circle around the unmarked grave.
Lady Anne and George Darcy stood slightly behind them, still confounded by Elizabeth and William’s choice to have all of their children present for the emerging of Thomas. However, if the past two decades had taught them anything, it was that their son and daughter-in-law delighted in defying tradition.
“Mama, will Thomas come soon?” asked Henry, feeling frightened.
His older sisters glanced at him. “Of course he will; have you not paid attention to your lessons?”
“Girls, it is natural to worry,” Elizabeth said. She was worried herself, although Darcy had assured her all would be well. One could hardly blame Elizabeth’s concern after her own disastrous Turning.
Darcy, sensing his wife’s nerves, wrapped his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her temple. “He will emerge soon, perfectly well.”
Then the dirt began to shift.
Darcy instructed his children to step back and took the flagon of Blood Wine in hand.
The grave began to open and Thomas Darcy soon emerged as a fledgling vampire. Darcy and Elizabeth immediately offered their son the Blood Wine. Thomas finished it quickly and, hunger sated, was well enough himself to greet his family.
October 1845
Darcy and Elizabeth were lying together in what was now their new bedchamber. Their girls were grown and married. Thomas and his new bride were expecting their first child. George and Lady Anne Darcy had removed to Pemberley’s newly-built dower house so they could be near enough to see their great grandchildren grow up. Elizabeth and Darcy had now taken up residence in their children’s former rooms.
“Are you happy, my love?”
“Incandescently so,” Elizabeth answered.
Darcy kissed her, immeasurably pleased with her answer. “I am glad we have defied tradition. I could not imagine leaving Pemberley—not when it has been the perfect home for us for three decades.”
“If Thomas had chosen not to follow our example, I would still be perfectly content so long as we were together. You are my home, William.”
“And you are mine, Elizabeth,” Darcy said, “But will it not please you to watch our grandchildren grow up at Pemberley?
“It will, although I am grateful that Thomas and Margaret are touring the Continent. It has been forever since you and I have had Pemberley to ourselves.”
“And now that we are alone at last, Mrs. Darcy, what shall I do with you?”
Elizabeth smiled. “I have several ideas.”
***
And so, Darcy and Elizabeth lived happily ever after as Eternal Partners, falling more deeply in love with each passing year. They lived at Pemberley until their children and grandchildren were grown and married. Then they retired to Scotland with the Bingleys, the Fitzwilliams, and the Hawkinses. After their relocation, they visited Pemberley twice a year. To this day, they are still as blissfully happy as they were the day they made their vows, even after two centuries of marriage.
The End
Lari Ann O'Dell first discovered her love of Pride & Prejudice when she was eighteen. After reading a Pride & Prejudice variation she found in a closing sale at a bookstore, she said, "This is what I want to do." She published her first novel, Mr. Darcy’s Kiss, two years later.
Born and raised in Colorado, she attended the University of Colorado in Boulder and earned a bachelor's degree in History and Creative Writing. After graduating college, she wrote and published her second novel, Mr. Darcy’s Ship. Her third novel, Mr. Darcy’s Clan, is her first supernatural variation, and she is working on two more fantasy variations. She is now back at school and pursuing a degree in Nursing. She adores her two beautiful nephews, Hudson and Dean. She currently works at a middle school, and writes whenever she can.
Also by Lari Ann O’Dell
Mr. Darcy’s Kiss (A Pride & Prejudice Variation)
Mr. Darcy’s Ship: Pride & Prejudice Reimagined