Vampire Darcy's Desire

“Mr. Bingley is gone? Jane will be devastated!” Elizabeth realized that Darcy really was gone if Bingley no longer was in residence at Netherfield. He certainly could not be there without his friend.

“The man should return in the spring, I would suspect. Mr. Bingley’s sisters left Jane a note. It is on the table in the foyer.They left one for you also, Lizzy.” Her father shifted his attention back to the book he read. “You take Jane’s to her, Child. She might need you when she reads it.”

Elizabeth’s heart jumped to her throat when he mentioned the note from the Bingley sisters. She knew it was from Darcy; Caroline Bingley would never bid her farewell. “Yes, Papa.” Elizabeth started towards the door.“Do you suppose I might ride Ceres occasionally?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.You mentioned Mr. Darcy gave you lessons. I imagine that could be arranged.”

“Thank you, Papa.” Elizabeth slipped from the room. Darcy had brought her the horse; she was sure of it. Somehow he had manipulated his friend into sending Ceres there. Elizabeth hurried to the entranceway to retrieve the notes before someone else found them.

Grabbing the sealed missives, Elizabeth felt a sense of anticipation, recognizing his distinctive script. Once she read the directions, she slid hers into the pocket of her dressing gown before bounding up the steps to her room. She would not give Jane’s to her immediately; she doubted her sister was even awake. She would read hers first. Slipping in the door and locking it behind her, she scrambled to her bed and tore at the seal, anxious to read Darcy’s farewell:

My dearest Elizabeth,

As I write this, I believe myself perfectly calm and cool, but I am convinced it is written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit. By the time you read this, I will be miles from Longbourn, but my thoughts will be with you, today and forever.You brought me a joy I never knew existed and gave me acceptance even though you knew the worst of me. How might a man explain how unique that is?

Ceres is yours; Bingley sold him to me, and I give the beauty to you. Continue your lessons, and learn to ride with the wind. In my old age, I will imagine you riding breakneck across the rolling hills of Hertfordshire, shocking the neighborhood with your “scandalous” behavior.A saddle is in the barn; it is well worn, but you will find it serviceable.The swords are still hidden in the manor house; they are yours also. Horrify your nieces and nephews with your sleight of hand. No one handles a rapier as you do,Vixen.

Someday I hope you will think fondly of the time we spent together. I will cherish each of the moments as the best of my life.

F. D.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Elizabeth wanted to be with him more than she had ever wanted anything, but even being with Darcy would not be enough. She wanted all the things every woman wants: a husband who loved her and children they shared. Elizabeth could never have that with Darcy, and—as much as she desired him —she knew he could offer her no future. He was right; their separation was for the best.

Wiping her tears away, she picked up the note for Jane. Her sister would feel the loneliness of departure as much as she did. Elizabeth wished she could share her feelings with Jane, but Jane and Bingley courted openly. Darcy had acknowledged her only with a dance—and that was because he was leaving and because she begged it of him. No one would ever know how she would compare every other man with him.

Caroline Bingley’s letter to Jane said she and her sister, Louisa, demanded their brother return to London. It was too dangerous in Hertfordshire; they were terribly frightened. Elizabeth suspected otherwise. “Although some truth obviously exists as to their fear, I am more inclined to believe Miss Bingley sees her brother is in love with you,” she asserted as Jane tried to hide her disappointment.

“Listen to this.” Jane Bennet took up the letter and read. “Unable to feel safe in Hertfordshire at this time, we believe this provides us an opportunity to renew relationships with friends and family in town. Besides, Mr. Darcy is impatient to see his sister, and to confess the truth, we are scarcely less eager to meet her again. I really do not think Georgiana Darcy has her equal for beauty, elegance, and accomplishments; and the affection she inspires in Louisa and me, is heightened into something still more interesting, from the hope we dare to entertain of her being here after our sister. I do not know whether I ever before mentioned to you my feelings on this subject, but I will not leave the country without confiding them, and I trust you will not esteem them unreasonable. My brother admires her greatly already; and by leaving for London, he will have frequent opportunity now of seeing her on the most intimate footing; her relations all wish the connection as much as his own, and a sister’s partiality is not misleading me, I think, when I call Charles most capable of engaging any woman’s heart.With all these circumstances to favor an attachment and nothing to prevent it, am I wrong, my dearest Jane, in indulging the hope of an event which will secure the happiness of so many?” Jane handed the

“Indeed, Jane, you ought to believe me.” Elizabeth knew Darcy, and she could not imagine he had such aspirations for his sister. As much as he esteemed Charles Bingley, it was likely Mr. Darcy planned a more auspicious match for his sister, especially if her heirs would inherit Pemberley.They were, after all, the children of Lady Anne Darcy, the sister of the Earl of Matlock, and the Bingleys were rich only through trade. However, Elizabeth spoke not her thoughts; instead, she tossed the letter into the nearest drawer and slammed it closed.“No one who ever saw you together can doubt his affection. Miss Bingley, I am sure, cannot. She is not such a simpleton. Could she have seen half as much love in Mr. Darcy for herself, she would have ordered her wedding clothes.” Elizabeth smiled with the knowledge that Caroline Bingley would never know Darcy in that way. “We are not rich enough, or grand enough, for them; and she is the more anxious to get Miss Darcy for her brother, from the notion that when there has been one intermarriage, she may have less trouble in achieving a second. But my dearest Jane, you cannot seriously imagine because Miss Bingley tells you her brother greatly admires Miss Darcy, he is in the smallest degree less sensible of your merit than when he took leave of you last evening, or it will be in her power to persuade him that instead of being in love with you, he is very much in love with her friend.”

Jane Bennet continued to believe Caroline Bingley to be honest in her words; Elizabeth knew better, but she did not trust herself to discuss it at length without confessing how distraught she was about Darcy’s departure. Little could be done, however, either way. Mr. Bingley had left the country, and Jane had no recourse except to pray he would return soon. Elizabeth realized Mrs. Bennet would lament the bad luck of losing such a prime catch as Mr. Bingley. She would not soon let her daughter forget her loss. For that reason, Elizabeth was happy her mother knew nothing of Darcy’s attentions.

The morning slipped by as the household began to stir after the long evening. Elizabeth roamed from room to room, driven by an unbearable restlessness and unsettled by the feeling of loneliness and the question of whether Wickham would actually follow Darcy. What if he did not and chose another victim? What could she do then? Could she tell the colonel what she knew? How could she keep Darcy out of it? Elizabeth knew she could not stand idly by and allow Wickham to leisurely choose victim after victim. And what of the victims? Unless someone helped to free their souls, they were damned for all time. Elizabeth did not believe she could do what Darcy did.

In the early afternoon, she stole away to her room to read each of Darcy’s notes again, overwhelmed by the void he had left in her life. Once more, she drifted to the window, thinking to watch the horse he had left her, a way