Vampire Darcy's Desire (38 page)

Wickham forced the panic away, but he did not break their
gaze.“The light washes them out? It must be the red of the jacket, overpowering everything else.”

“I suppose,” she mumbled, but did not look away.

Wickham removed the fob and glanced at his watch.“Unfortunately, Miss Lucas, I must report back to the barracks. I hope you will excuse me.” He stood and offered her his hand. Charlotte rose, too. “I hope to see you and your family at some of the entertainments in the coming weeks.”

“I would expect so, Mr. Denny.”

“Until then.” Wickham executed a quick bow and strode purposefully away. He needed to find cover; the spell slipped as he walked.

Ducking into the stable, he darted behind some tackle, before leaning over at the waist and gasping for air.
What happened?
he wondered. Never before had the image faded until he was ready for it to do so. He had escaped just in time. The woman noted his eyes—the difference. He had counted on the ability to shape shift to dupe his prey. He might need to rethink his plan for the Bennets.

A few minutes later, from the protection of the corral, he watched Charlotte Lucas make her way towards the village center. The woman was very common—sharp intellectually—but never attractive. He suspected, however, she would make someone a good wife—the plain ones always did.They possessed no other hold on a man. Sometimes he regretted not having chosen a woman like Miss Lucas, but he had fallen in love with Ellender D’Arcy, a striking beauty like none other—a witty, sensual woman—indulged and pampered—elegant and arrogant. He loved her even now, but she had never returned his regard. Seorais Winchcombe lacked the breeding—lacked the name. Ellender D’Arcy had decided on Arawn Benning, a man with a title, and she had traded Wickham’s life to save her precious Lord Benning. It still pained him to remember how she had betrayed him. Ellender D’Arcy had doomed him to an endless life—one of fiendish desires—of a ghoulish hunger—a brutish monster.

Pushing the memories aside,Wickham turned in place twice
before disappearing in a rush of wind—it was time to call on the Bennets.

 

Although he watched the Longbourn estate for two days, the Bennet girls strayed no farther than the gravel walk that led to the copse. He decided on the youngest girl, Miss Lydia. Mary Bennet, a studious girl, even less comely than Miss Lucas, would never do, and the one they called Kitty, although mildly attractive, much along the lines of her sister Elizabeth, was too moody—too difficult to determine what might tempt her.

No, Lydia would be the one. Being the youngest, she was sure to be a favorite among the family, although he found her continuous chatter and flirtations annoying. But Lydia Bennet would make an easy mark—gullible—unsophisticated—foolish.

He noted with approval that Miss Lydia was friends with Colonel Forster’s new wife. Only that afternoon he had witnessed Lydia Bennet’s silliness. Lurking among the trees, disguised as a stray dog, he had eavesdropped on their conversation.

“Good heaven! What is to become of us? What are we to do?” she had exclaimed with girlish woe to Mrs. Forster.

“Whatever do you mean, my dear?” Mrs. Forster had captured Lydia’s hand and patted it in sympathy.

Lydia whined, “My sisters are still able to eat, drink, and sleep, and pursue the usual course of their employments, but I take no pleasure in such pursuits. I would prefer a ball every night for entertainment. Papa is so cruel!”

“Do not fret so, my friend, for I will send my husband, the colonel, to speak to Mr. Bennet. Surely he can convince your father to let you accompany me to the Christmas festivities. The colonel will vouch for your safety.”

Lydia collapsed on a bench next to her friend.“Oh, I do hope so!”

Wickham had withdrawn before they had spotted him. He had an outlet—a way to get to Lydia Bennet! He would call on her as himself, establish his interest in a relationship with her, and when he knew all the details of the military celebration, he would spring
the trap. Only a few more days, and the happy situation for the Darcys would change dramatically.

The tour of the house resumed as Darcy led Elizabeth into the dining parlor. It was a large, well-proportioned room, handsomely fitted up. Elizabeth, after surveying it, went to a window to enjoy its prospect. The hill, crowned with wood, which they descended, receiving increased abruptness from the distance, was a beautiful object. Every disposition of the ground was good, and she looked on the whole scene—the river, the trees scattered on its banks, and the winding of the valley, as far as she could trace it—with delight. As they passed into other rooms these objects were taking different positions; but from every window there were beauties to be seen. The rooms were lofty and handsome, and their furniture suitable to the fortune of their proprietor; and Elizabeth saw, with admiration of his taste, it was neither gaudy nor uselessly fine with less of splendor and more real elegance than she had anticipated.

Darcy came up behind her and wrapped her in his arms; they spoke not for several minutes. “Dare I ask your thoughts?” he inquired.

His voice—rumbling and masculine—stirred her, making her stomach fill with butterfly wings. Automatically, Elizabeth leaned back—sealing her spine to his chest—and Darcy hardened with her closeness.

“And of this place,” she spoke with disbelief, “I am to be mistress?” She turned in his arms, burying her face in his chest. “At Overton House, I stood a chance of being an acceptable wife, but how am I to be that here?”

Darcy tightened his hold on her.What could he say to allay her fears? He did not marry Elizabeth to make her mistress of his estate; he married her to protect her and because of the need he held for her.“I am away from Pemberley for months at a time, but the estate continues to function without my presence.”

“Then you have no need of me!” she wailed.

Darcy chuckled.“I did not consider whether you could run my household when I became obsessed with kissing your luscious lips.”To prove his point, he raised her chin and lowered his mouth to hers.

When they separated, she said,“At your club, they will ask,
Mr. Darcy, how is your new wife?
And you will reply,
She is a terrible mistress of my estate, but Mrs. Darcy is the best kisser I have ever known.
”

Darcy smiled wickedly. “I did not say you were
the best I have ever known
.”

Elizabeth suddenly shoved against him, ready to escape his taunt, but Darcy clamped his hands together behind her back.“You are a cad, Sir—a true blackguard!” she retorted hotly.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” he joked, holding her tightly to him. Darcy took one hand to cup her face, turning it to him. “Elizabeth, I married you because I need you—beyond reason—I need you.” His breathing became shallow with desire.

“You
need
me—for what, Mr. Darcy?” Her lips took on a slight pout.

“I need you to…you are the one I turn to when I need reason…when I need courage. I need your kiss—your touch—your empathy. I need the excitement I see in your eyes when you practice fencing or riding Ceres or waltzing. I need to feel alive, and only you, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, can do that. I could hire someone to run the estate, but no one could take your place. Do you understand that?”

Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment.“Yes, Fitzwilliam, I understand,” she said meekly. She added wryly,“You do not need a mistress of your estate, but you do need a fencing partner, a riding mate, and someone with whom to dance.”

“Do not forget that I need someone to kiss.” Darcy gently brushed his lips across hers.

Elizabeth provocatively walked her fingers up his chest before grasping his lapels. “Then if I am to be your playmate, Mr. Darcy, play on.” She caught his hair and pulled his head closer.“Play on.”

Darcy took her mouth possessively, the hunger filling him, both a sexual desire and an animalistic need taking hold of him. “Elizabeth,” he murmured, “you are everything.” His fingers traced the indentation of her neck, caressing it before scraping his nail across his favorite spot. “It is the middle of the afternoon,” he whispered close to her ear before sucking the lobe with his lips and tongue, “and I can think of nothing but touching you.” His mouth trailed a line of fire down her neck.A moan escaped his lips before he kissed the spot between the swell of her breasts. He heard her quick intake of breath as he returned his head to suck gently on the side of her neck.

“Ah, you enjoy my
femininity
,” she whispered.

“Femininity?” Darcy barely got the word out; his hunger was driving him on.

Elizabeth leaned her head back to welcome his continued possession. “That is what my uncle calls it when he kisses Aunt Merry as such.”

The words she spoke invaded his passion-filled brain. “Your Aunt Merry?”

Elizabeth enjoyed taking him by surprise.“Aunt Merry wears a scarf to cover Uncle’s lovemaking.”

“And how, Mrs. Darcy, would you know that?” Darcy sounded both suspicious and amused.

“Aunt Merry noted how you judiciously covered my mark with the emerald necklace. She shared her diversionary techniques at the opera.”

Darcy smiled good-humoredly, suppressing the image. “I believe that I will never be able to look your aunt in the face again.”

“I feel the same about Uncle; Aunt told me too much and not enough, both at the same time.”

Realizing that the moment had passed, Darcy released his hold on her and straightened his waistcoat.“I suppose we need to think about this.”

Elizabeth looked down shyly.“I suppose.”

Before Darcy could respond, Mr. Lockwood tapped on the
door.“Enter,” Darcy called out.

“Mr. Darcy, a large box arrived for Mrs. Darcy from London. Shall I place it in her room?”

“It is the books, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said from behind him.

“The library will be more appropriate, Mr. Lockwood.”

“Yes, Sir.”The man began to back out of the room.

“Mr. Lockwood, would you place a small table, several straight-backed chairs, paper, and pens and ink in the library also. My wife and sister have studies they wish to pursue.”

“Certainly, Mr. Darcy.” The man exited immediately.

“Well, my love, shall we see what insights the books have brought? I will send for Mrs.Annesley and Georgiana to join us.”

“I can think of nothing I would enjoy more.” They moved towards the door. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, and turning to him, she blushed profusely.“Well, I can think of one thing, but it must wait.”

Wickham lounged leisurely in the corner of Mrs. Phillips’s drawing room. He held a glass of port, but he did not drink; it was all part of the illusion. The Bennet ladies had arrived five minutes earlier. Now, Wickham waited to greet them; he anticipated it taking at least a fortnight for him to maneuver Lydia Bennet, his intended target, away from her family. Discreet inquiries had told him that the Forsters planned to travel to London for a Christmas military ball, and Mrs. Forster wished Lydia Bennet to be her special friend and join the party. Wickham could simply take Lydia, but that would not serve his purpose. Instead, he wanted to spirit her away from her family, letting Elizabeth Darcy rue the day she aligned herself with Fitzwilliam Darcy. Because of her choice, Elizabeth’s sister would die. It would be enough to force the Darcys apart, leaving Fitzwilliam Darcy vulnerable once again.

“Mr.Wickham,” Lydia Bennet called out loudly when she spotted him,“it has been a lifetime since we last saw you.”

Mrs. Bennet allowed her youngest daughter too much freedom in her deportment, and this annoyed him. Wickham always preferred refined ladies to the “working” girls he often took on the street. His tastes had been established two centuries earlier with Lady Ellender D’Arcy.The image of his first love flickered momentarily in front of his eyes. He thought of her often of late—especially since seeing Georgiana Darcy—as if he were coming full circle, back to where it all began. Shaking off the image,Wickham pushed away from the wall and strode forward to meet them.“Miss Lydia,” he said, bowing before taking her hand and bringing it to his lips.“It is a pleasure to hear that you missed my company.”