Vampire Darcy's Desire (3 page)

“I never knew a man who did not eat meat,” Mr. Bennet remarked in surprise.

Darcy pulled himself up to his full height, knowing it would give him an advantage. “We British seem to think a meal is not complete unless we gorge ourselves, but we are a society plagued by gluttony. How many men do you know who suffer from gout? Many civilizations thrive on a cuisine of grains, vegetables, and beans.Yet I am not a total cretin, Mr. Bennet. I am known to eat fish regularly. Since my twentieth year, I have never known a sick day, Sir. I do not know whether my life choice has anything to do with it or whether God blessed me with a strong constitution, but why should I change what works?”

Mr. Bennet stammered, “I—I would never expect you to change, Mr. Darcy.”

To emphasize his point and to escape the rest of the slaughter, Darcy turned on his heel and left the area after saying curtly,“Good afternoon, gentlemen.”

“He is an unusual man,” Mr. Bennet began his conjecture. “I
would not expect you and Mr. Darcy to have enough in common to be friends, Mr. Bingley.”

“Darcy is a true friend. One can never question his loyalty or his sense of responsibility.We all have our peculiarities, and I gladly tolerate Darcy’s, as he tolerates mine. It seems you, Mr. Bennet, have the proclivity for taking amusement in your books. Some might take you to be reclusive.” Bingley gave his neighbor a level look.

Mr. Bennet looked away in embarrassment. “Point taken, Mr. Bingley.”

 

Elizabeth Bennet put her Aunt Gardiner’s letter away.“So the infamous Mr. Darcy is in Hertfordshire and staying with our new Mr. Bingley,” she mused. “I wonder what he is really like. I suppose I will soon find out; it should be interesting to see if Aunt Gardiner’s opinions hold merit.”

 

The days passed quietly for the most part, but despite Darcy’s desire to keep in the background, Bingley’s obligations to his neighborhood required they make appearances at some of the local celebrations, the most important of these an assembly where Bingley and his sisters would meet the society in which they would dwell. Although he despised such gatherings, Darcy accompanied his friend.The public nature of village assemblies meant anyone with a ticket could attend. Darcy was sure every available young woman and girl straight from the schoolroom would await Bingley’s acquaintance. Bingley’s newfound wealth made him a worthy catch, especially for a country miss likely not to experience a season in London’s high society. As Bingley’s friend, Darcy expected a similar perusal, but he planned to put off any such overtures. He would remain alone tonight and every night.

When they entered the hall, the dancers made their turns and came face-to-face with their newest neighbors. Instantly, everyone froze in place, as if playing a childhood game of freeze tag and they had all been tagged as “it” at once. A stirring and a heightening of expectations spread across the room, and a number of more prominent
families nudged their daughters forward, the better to catch Mr. Bingley’s attention.

Sir William Lucas advanced to welcome them and to make appropriate introductions as the rest of those in attendance turned back to the dance, and the music began again. Darcy held himself stiffly as he followed Bingley, Caroline, Louisa Hurst, and Wayne Hurst into the room. Although the hall teemed with noise, he walked in silence; it echoed in the night; and for the first time in many years, Darcy felt the hair on his neck stand on end, as if Destiny walked beside him—something momentous was about to happen.The feeling moved him to his core. He looked around, half expecting to see George Wickham among the revelers, but only landed gentry and commoners dotted the crowd.A faint trembling shook him, but he forced his steps to follow Bingley to a raised dais at one end of the room.

Having exchanged pleasantries with those deemed by Sir William to be worthy of the introduction, Darcy took up a position along the rear of the dais, keeping his back to the wall so he might guard against any intrusions. For some reason he did not understand, something changed—something he could not pinpoint in the dimly lit hall.

Within a few minutes, a sturdy older woman stepped forward, dragging a half-dozen young women with her. Darcy heard Sir William introduce his daughter Charlotte Lucas, one of the brood, and then the unbelievably pretentious Mrs. Bennet. Darcy smiled at the thought of the easygoing man he knew as Mr. Bennet yoked in life to this woman.As soon as the introductions were uttered, she took over the conversation, imposing herself and her five daughters upon Bingley and his sisters.

“Oh, Mr. Bingley, we are so pleased you came to Netherfield Park. Are we not, girls?” she gushed.“Let me introduce my daughters, if you please,” she continued, barely giving Bingley time to nod before she started the presentations. “This is my eldest, Jane. Then Elizabeth, Mary, Catherine, and Lydia.” Each girl made a curtsy as her mother announced her name.

“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet.” Bingley truly loved all the attention. “These are my sisters Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst, with her husband, my brother Mr. Hurst.” The women bobbed their curtsies, and then the group directed their attention to him as Bingley gestured to where he stood.“And this is my good friend Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”

The mother hen responded. “Welcome to Hertfordshire, Mr. Darcy,” she cooed.“I
do
hope you enjoy your stay.”

All eyes fell on him as he offered the group a proper bow.“Mrs. Bennet, you are most kind,” he murmured and resumed his place along the wall.

As the conversation shifted once again to Bingley and his sisters, Darcy, out of half boredom and half curiosity, began a closer observation of the Bennet sisters.The two youngest were insignificant schoolgirls, giggling masses of feminine silliness. He thanked his lucky stars Georgiana never went through such a phase. The middle girl held no true beauty; her strict angular lines took on boyish qualities, and she did nothing to soften the look.The oldest Miss Bennet was a striking beauty; he could easily envision her taking center stage at any of a dozen grand balls as the most beautiful woman in attendance.

Then he let his eyes fall on the second daughter. Although not as arrestingly beautiful as the eldest, Miss Elizabeth was alluring nonetheless—petite, small waist, dark hair with auburn highlights, almond-shaped eyes—a dark green, nearly black—full red lips and a slim, aristocratic nose. She simmered sensuality, and whether he liked it or not, his body reacted to her appearance. As he stared at her, their eyes met, and in amusement, she arched an eyebrow and gifted him with a beguiling smile, almost as if she knew he reacted to her. Her open teasing awakened a dangerous part of him, and he felt an almost visceral desire to possess her.Without wishing to do so, he fought a wildness coursing through his being. Darcy pulled himself upright, crossing his arms across his chest, symbolically sealing off his chance for communication, and then he pointedly looked away to end her hopes of connecting with him.

Bingley, following propriety, asked Miss Bennet for the next dance, and the group moved away en masse to join the assemblage. Darcy stood alone, purposely offering offense—closing himself off from contact with others—keeping himself apart—never allowing for the possibility of being with anyone else.Yet as the evening progressed, his eyes returned repeatedly to Elizabeth Bennet, and each time, with a slight shake of his head, Darcy forced his gaze to withdraw once again.

More frustrating, when her eyes met his, she did not look away, challenging him to do something to make her retreat. A shiver ran down his spine; it seemed as if she almost looked
past
him, scanning his soul instead. For a brief, fleeting second, Darcy wondered if she felt it, too, and then his pride pushed the thought aside.

“Come, Darcy,” Bingley called as he approached, “I must have you dance. I hate to see you standing about by yourself in this stupid manner.You had much better dance.”

For a moment the image of standing up with Elizabeth Bennet shot through his head, but Darcy forced it away. “I certainly shall not,” he declared. “You know how I detest it, unless I am particularly acquainted with my partner. At such an assembly as this, it would be insupportable.Your sisters are engaged, and there is not another woman in the room, with whom it would not be a punishment to me to stand up.”

“I would not be so fastidious as you are,” cried Bingley, “for a kingdom! Upon my honor, I never met with so many pleasant girls in my life, as I have this evening; and there are several of them you see uncommonly pretty.”

Darcy would not betray his interest in Elizabeth Bennet, nor would he succumb to the temptation to touch her hand. “You are dancing with the only handsome girl in the room.” As he said the words, his gut clenched in denial.

Bingley sighed audibly.“Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I ever beheld! But there is one of her sisters sitting down just behind you, who is very pretty, and I dare say, very agreeable. Do let me ask my partner to introduce you.”

Before he could think clearly, he inquired, “Which do you mean?” Following Bingley’s gesture, Darcy turned to look at Elizabeth. His heart jumped, but he withdrew his eyes and coldly said, “She is tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt
me;
and I am in no humor at present to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men.” Although he did not look at Elizabeth, he knew his words, literally, struck her. “You better return to your partner and enjoy her smiles, for you are wasting your time with me.” He determinedly walked off in the other direction, leaving Bingley to follow his advice. Darcy knew he left her with no real cordial sentiments towards him, but he could not allow any feelings between them to blossom.

However, later in the evening, he indulged in a perverted torture when he danced with Louisa Hurst, setting her in the same quadrille as Elizabeth Bennet and her partner. He circled Louisa and came face-to-face with Miss Elizabeth. At first, she refused to look at him, but within the dance she placed her hand in his.A jolt of intimacy shot up his arm, and intuitively he tightened his hold, requiring her to finally meet his eyes. As they stepped around each other, their gaze remained locked.Then they parted, but each time they came together, they dueled for supremacy. Without realizing she did so, Elizabeth bit her bottom lip, and Darcy watched the moisture form on the inner lobe, trying to decipher what it would be like to taste her.They spoke no words, but he knew her nerves soared as tautly as his.

As he passed her for the last time, he imagined roughly grabbing Elizabeth and pulling her into his embrace. She would fit nicely under his chin, and her lithe curves would be hard to ignore. He watched her head turn and how her neck elongated with the movement. Darcy smiled with the thought.

Her voice brought him back to reality. “I assume, Mr. Darcy, you find our simple assemblage amusing.”

Darcy looked down to see a veil drawn over her expression.“A man may take pleasure in many things, Miss Elizabeth.” He did not expect the fathomless darkness of her eyes, and subconsciously his
fists tightened by his sides in anger—in confusion. She looked ready to respond, but then she turned away to her partner, and the dance ended on a sour note.

 

That evening, back at Netherfield, he dreamed of Elizabeth Bennet, and they were not the terrifying dreams he often experienced when he met an attractive woman. Normally, his dreams, when he allowed himself to dream, held images of terror—blood dripping from open wounds and his inner animal overcoming him. Such horror shook his being, and he often smothered his cries of abhorrence with a pillow. But tonight, his dreams took on different overtones. He pushed a strand of hair away from Elizabeth’s face while his lips brushed hers fleetingly. She looked deeply into his eyes, and Darcy wanted the security he saw there. Then he kissed her more passionately, his tongue invading her mouth and claiming Elizabeth as his.The scene went no further, but a half-awake Darcy replayed it many times until it felt right—felt the kiss—felt the heat.“Mmm, that is
nice,
” he murmured as he rolled to his left side to allow slumber to overtake him again. Surprisingly, he felt alive—felt strong—when he imagined holding Elizabeth Bennet in his arms. It was an exquisite torment; something he could desire, but something he could never do.

 

Elizabeth Bennet held no such fascinations for Fitzwilliam Darcy, at least, not on the surface. She had observed him all evening, watching his air of superiority—the ultimate master of Pemberley, just as her Aunt Gardiner described him. Mr. Darcy, obviously, thought his actions were above reproof—maybe even above the law.

After that evening, the word of how he snubbed her spread through the neighborhood, and her pride clouded any feelings of attraction she might hold for him.

Her mother lamented her daughter’s treatment, much to Elizabeth’s embarrassment. “But I can assure you Lizzy does not lose much by not suiting
his
fancy; for he is a most disagreeable, horrid man, not at all worth pleasing. So high and so conceited—he
walked here and there, fancying himself so very great!”

Her father shared his surprise at the two men even being friends, in consideration of the great opposition of character. “Bingley is open and easy, and he swears by Darcy’s strength of regard and his judgment. In meeting both, I agree; Darcy is the superior. Bingley is by no means deficient, but Darcy is clever. He is also at the same time haughty, reserved, and fastidious, and his manners, although well bred, are not inviting. In that respect Mr. Bingley has greatly the advantage.”

Elizabeth agreed: “I could easily forgive
Mr. Darcy’s
pride if he had not mortified
mine
.”

Over the next fortnight, Bingley’s party, including Darcy, found themselves five times in the company of the Bennets. One evening over brandy, Bingley noted how often Darcy spent time with Miss Bennet: danced four times at Meryton, saw her one morning at his own house, and dined in her company four times. However, he did not need to tell Darcy how often they saw the Bennets; Darcy knew exactly. Despite his need to remain alone, he indulged in observing
his Elizabeth,
as he now thought of her. Purposely, he found things to say to her to provoke a response, just to enjoy the natural huskiness of Elizabeth’s voice.What he began to notice was how he felt after each of their exchanges. It seemed the more he irritated her, the stronger he grew—each retort increasing his vitality—and he took a twisted delight in annoying her.