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Elizabeth, her aunt and uncle all rubbed their sated tummies while they exited the back of the orphanage. Elizabeth smiled as she thought of her good fortune. Her aunt was right. This truly was a large orphanage, and with the adjoining workhouse, she could feed off the townsfolk for several seasons. Oh, how she envied the Derbyshire vampires. If only Elizabeth could find a rich suitable husband in Derbyshire. She could vary her time between Derbyshire and London, filling up on street rats and whores during spring and fall and then gorging on countryside orphans during the off seasons. What a privileged life it would be!
“Isn’t Derbyshire beautiful, Lizzy?” Aunt Gardner said as they walked side-by-side beneath the moonlight.
With Elizabeth’s keen vampire senses, she took in the ethereal beauty of rolling hills dotted with copses of oak trees and verdant grass.
Then she scowled. She didn’t give a fig about trees. “Yes, yes.” She dismissed her aunt with a flick of the wrist. “But I especially love the rather large and filling orphanage.”
“I say, I’m stuffed,” her uncle said as he strode alongside his wife. “I couldn’t possibly eat another orphan.”
Mrs. Gardner turned to Elizabeth with a wink. “Wouldn’t it be nice to take up permanent residence in Derbyshire?”
Elizabeth heaved a wistful sigh. “I should like to live in Derbyshire. I should like it very much.” Then she pointed to a rather large and impressive manor. “Who lives there?”
“That’s Pemberley Manor dear,” Aunt Gardner said, “owned by the rather prideful yet rich and handsome, Mr. Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Elizabeth gasped. Shit. She should have listened to her mother and done a better job trying to secure him as a husband.
Aunt Gardner arched an inquisitive brow. “Do you know him?”
Elizabeth felt the blush creep into her cheeks. Not because she was embarrassed that her aunt might think she had a crush, but because she felt like a dolt for letting a rich bachelor slip through her grasp. “I’m acquainted with him, yes.”
“Well then.” Aunt Gardner giggled beneath a pale hand before fixing Elizabeth with a knowing grin. “We should visit.”
Mr. Gardner groaned. “I swear, I cannot eat another bite.”
Mrs. Gardner laughed as she elbowed him in the ribcage. “Not to eat, but to look around.”
Elizabeth looked at her aunt as if she’d just smoked an opium pipe. They were just supposed to walk into Pemberley Manor and take a tour? Without an invite from the owner? How weird. Was that even legal?
Though many traditions held that vampires could never enter a home uninvited, that would be inconvenient for the plot, so Elizabeth decided to go along with her aunt and uncle.
“Okay.” She shrugged. “We can visit.” Then she turned to her aunt and uncle and wagged a finger in their faces. “But nobody kill Mr. Darcy. I need him to marry me.”
* * *
“Well, what do you think?” Aunt Gardner asked as she spun around the large sitting parlor and maniacally laughed.
Elizabeth walked toward one of the many large bay windows and leaned her forehead against the windowpane. The view before her nearly took her breath away. The orphanage was in plain sight. “I don’t think I’ve seen a place so happily situated.”
At that moment she wanted to bash her skull through the window for letting Mr. Darcy slip through her grasp.
“Indeed.” Her uncle walked up behind her. “Right next to the orphanage.”
“And not far from that big tree,” Aunt Gardner added.
Elizabeth groaned. “Oh, stuff the damn tree, Aunt.”
“Who are you? What are you doing in my master’s house?”
Elizabeth gasped and they all spun around. An elderly woman in housekeeper’s garb was standing inside the large entryway. She carried a candle in one hand and a fireplace poker in the other. Both were visibly shaking.
Elizabeth licked her lips at the sight of the woman’s weapon. Oh, how she loved a good fight before a meal. Nothing made her more voracious than the rush of adrenaline right before a dangerous kill.
“Oh, we’re just looking around,” her aunt said beside her.
Elizabeth could feel the hunger in her aunt’s voice, too.
Her uncle remained silent, but the puddle of drool at his feet spoke volumes.
“It’s past midnight,” the old woman croaked as her limbs shook harder.
“So it is,” Elizabeth purred. “Is your master at home?”
“No.” The old woman shook her head. “But he’ll be arriving with a large party tomorrow.” Then the old maid’s eyes bugged out as she must have realized she’d said too much.
“I see,” Elizabeth growled before turning to her aunt and uncle. “Anyone up for a midnight snack?”