Vampire Darcy's Desire

“We should.” Beneath it all, Elizabeth felt fearful, but she was unsure of the source of her apprehension. Part of it was the terror of the afternoon, but some of it also lay in her growing feelings for the man who sat next to her.

His apologetic manner spoke of his true feelings. “Elizabeth, I am deeply sorry I inadvertently placed you in danger.” His slightly husky voice was serious and passionate. “It will be on my conscience until the day I die. I hope someday you forgive me; you deserve so much better than the horror I brought into your life.” He caressed her hand, stroking her palm with his fingertips.

“Fitzwilliam, you did nothing. Nothing at all to harm me.”

His icy blue eyes remained fixed on hers.“Tell me what George Wickham said to you,” he said in a quiet, dangerous voice.

Through tear-filled eyes, she related her complete conversation with Wickham. “I was wrong to speak to him without your knowledge.” Darcy did not push further; he simply waited for her to continue.“Wickham spoke of your cruelty to your cottagers and to the villagers. I am ashamed to say there was a time when I would have believed him.The man has a way of playing on a person’s sensibilities. We need to do something, Fitzwilliam.”

Darcy knew she would reach this point eventually. He had the argument with himself often enough that he expected it from her. “And what would you suggest, my dear?”

“We tell the authorities.”

For years, Darcy had avoided emotional involvement with any woman. It was all in the past now, however; this woman looked How does Mr. Darcy come by this information? And you disclose that my family is cursed, thanks to our ancestors’ love affair, and I could be as evil as Wickham if I chose.We would be ruined. My reputation—Georgiana’s future—your future and your sisters’ futures—your entire family’s status in the neighborhood—some will believe the tale and believe I am also evil. Others will consider your words madness.”

She glanced at him, her thoughts scattered.“You are right,” she finally acknowledged,“but we cannot let him get away with killing that woman.”

“From what I know of Wickham’s pattern, he will not strike again for a week or more, other than the occasional animal—a dog or a sheep.”

“I cannot believe you speak so lightheartedly about this wickedness,” she said challengingly.

Darcy’s face reddened with anger. “You are mistaken if you think I find no contempt in this situation. I have lived with it longer than you. It has been my existence, and what I relay are the absolute facts. Forgive me if I am aware that evil corrupts absolutely.”

Elizabeth wondered momentarily what she would be doing right then if Darcy had not entered her life—certainly not considering how to kill a vampire before he struck again. “So we cannot go to the authorities.What do we do, then?”

“First, I need to lure Wickham from the area—get him away from you. His normal mode of operation means he comes looking for easy victims. He chooses very vulnerable targets; rarely does Wickham select a woman of circumstance. If he did, he might draw more notice from the local law officers. In most small villages and towns, the law is incompetent, at best. By the time someone makes a connection, he is gone.”

“That does not make these women not worth saving!” she

He spoke coldly and curtly.“I never meant to imply otherwise, Miss Elizabeth.” He belatedly realized his rudeness.

“Did Wickham kill Vivian Piccadilly?” she blurted out in frustration.

Darcy spoke unguardedly.“I always assumed he was the perpetrator. Miss Piccadilly’s body was found close to a stream. Her father was devastated by the condition in which he found her. I always felt the shame in my part of his pain.”

“Your part?” Elizabeth seized upon the words. “What part did you play inVivian’s death?”

Darcy seemed reconciled to his role in the murder. “Does it matter?”

“It matters to me, Fitzwilliam.” Elizabeth stood suddenly, staring at Darcy as if seeing him for the first time.

“If I tell you, you will turn away from me.”

Suddenly, she saw things in a sharper focus; she remembered her aunt’s description of Vivian’s body. In a voice of resigned contempt, she said,“You prevent them—Wickham’s victims—from following him, do you not?” She was acknowledging as much to herself.

“The only way I know to stop them from becoming one of the walking dead is to break the connection between the body and the soul…letting the soul out, so to speak, to make its way to heaven, rather than dwell in hell.” His words pierced the air, increasing the cold, which invaded their bodies.

“How can you do such a thing?” she insisted.

“It is the most responsible thing I do. I offer prayers of redemption for the victim’s soul and forgiveness for mine, and then I do what must be done.” His eyes were dark with anger at the injustice.

A frown creased across her forehead.“Did you do the responsible thing today?” she whispered.

“It is done.”

“Oh, Fitzwilliam!” She collapsed onto the seat beside him and took his hand in hers; he needed the comfort now.“You have been placed in the most tragic scenario. It is no wonder you try to withdraw

“I did not succeed where you are concerned,Vixen.”

“You simply like a challenge, Mr. Darcy.”

“I suppose you could be right. I want what I cannot have.”