Vampire Darcy's Desire

Darcy shifted uncomfortably. Hate? All he wanted now was to touch her.“You, Miss Elizabeth, willfully misunderstand me.”

“I will provide you the opportunity, Sir, to convince me otherwise,” she taunted.

Before he could respond again, Caroline cut them off with a call to her sister for some music. Darcy, reluctantly, returned to his book.

Elizabeth took up her embroidery again. His words shook her sense of well-being. Does Mr. Darcy really think that I misunderstand him? Elizabeth felt she truly knew the man.There was a time when she thought he might be the man who had killed three young women in and about Derbyshire, but no more. He could be

Elizabeth and Jane Bennet would return to Longbourn on the morrow. Darcy was loath to see his and Elizabeth’s time together end.

For their last evening, they took up residence on a settee in the alcove of Charles’s study.The household had been asleep for hours, but they chatted on. “Do you not see, Elizabeth, Wellesley must make a stand, or Napoleon will march right to King George’s door.”

“But the number of lives!” she protested.“So many men killed.”

“The numbers would be great,” he conceded.

They sat on either end of the furniture. Darcy stretched out his legs in front of him. Elizabeth, on the other hand, draped her legs over his lap, and he lightly massaged the arch of her foot. An outsider might think them to be an example of perfect marital harmony. After a long silence, he spoke the words that neither of them wanted to say:“You return to Longbourn tomorrow?”

“Jane is well, and we cannot intrude on Mr. Bingley’s kindness any longer.” Impulsively, she drew up her legs, tucking them under her and sitting up straighter, symbolically withdrawing from his touch.“We leave after services tomorrow.”

Darcy sat up also, straightening his waistcoat and jacket.“I see,” he mumbled.

“We knew it had to end.”The silence roared in her ears.

Darcy removed imaginary lint from his sleeve. “Of course. It was expected.”

Before they could say anything else, they heard someone in the hall. Elizabeth scrambled to her feet and plastered herself to the wall so no one would see her. Darcy stepped forward into the room and into the light.“Miss—Miss Bingley!” he stammered.

“Mr. Darcy!” she gasped. “I did not expect to find you here. I came down for a book, but saw the reflection of the candle and came to investigate.”

Darcy knew that she lied. First, Caroline Bingley never read unless someone made her; and, second, she could not see the reflected single candle under the closed door. However, he would not let her find Elizabeth here. “I hoped Charles had some of that excellent brandy we shared earlier.” He held up the glass he had left on the table to indicate the truth of his words. “As you can see, I found it; but now it is late.Why do you not let me show you back to your room, Miss Bingley?”

“We could sit and talk for awhile.” Caroline started for a chair. Out of the corner of his eye, Darcy saw Elizabeth cling closer to the wall, trying to become invisible.

He sprang forward and caught her arm, forcibly turning Caroline as he spoke. “Miss Bingley, you know that is not possible. It is too forward even for intimate friends, such as you and me, to spend time alone, and my breeding will not allow a lady to remain unescorted. I have the candle”—he reached for the one in her hand—“and I insist you let me see you upstairs.” He hustled her towards the door. Caroline nearly tripped, but he supported her.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy, you are most kind,” she said, simpering.

“Think nothing of it, Miss Bingley.”

Darcy hated to leave Elizabeth to find her own way to her room; he took great pleasure in kissing her good night. Her soft lips left a trail of fire over his; such thoughts brought a moan to his lips, but he stifled it. Leading Miss Bingley to her door, he bid her a pleasant night before heading for his own room. He could not turn around. Caroline Bingley would smudge Elizabeth’s reputation if she saw them together.

Elizabeth waited a quarter hour before she made her way to the servants’ staircase. She and Darcy normally returned to their rooms via the servants’ narrow stairway. He took Miss Bingley up the main staircase, some distance away from the stairs Elizabeth now climbed. She admired his sense of honor—the way he protected her. Elizabeth hoped they might continue to meet at the manor house as they planned, but they would have to be careful. It would not be as easy as the past few days. Slipping quietly into her room,

Darcy paced his room. Despising the way he left Elizabeth, he could think of nothing but her. “I wonder,” he said, running his fingers through his hair as if to clear his mind. He knew he could do it, but Darcy never tapped into his “powers,” those he inherited along with the curse. He could suspend time. No one would know he was there; he could transport himself to Elizabeth’s room without physically leaving the one he was in.Yet should he dare? Would she welcome me? Without dwelling any longer on the possibilities, Darcy cleared his mind and forced all his energies into moving through the hallways unseen. Like a vortex sucking in time and space, his mind projected a conjuration, beguiling those who slept in each of the rooms he mentally touched.

Silently, he entered where Elizabeth slept. He crept slowly to the bed’s edge—moving without sound. She was so innocently beautiful; his heart ached with a hunger he could never expect to fill. Lightly, Darcy traced the outline of her jaw—the chin, which she loved to raise in defiance. Enchanted by the moonlight streaming across her countenance, he bent to kiss her cheek.

His breath tickled Elizabeth’s skin, and she brushed at the touch of his lips, as if they were a butterfly’s wings flitting across her flesh. Darcy fought back a chuckle; she slept so soundly. Instead of touching her again, he pulled up a chair next to the bed and sat, watching her. He took great pleasure in watching Elizabeth sleep—the evenness of her breathing eased the anxiety he felt since leaving her in the study.

Her subconscious knew he was there; Elizabeth dreamed of him—dreamed of Darcy’s eyes on her.The image made her smile. What she would not give to open her eyes and find him in the room! Slits of fractured light brought her forward to meet wakefulness, although she fought to remain asleep and glory in his gaze. Yet something unknown called to her, and Elizabeth’s eyes