Vampire Darcy's Desire

“Well, as long as we are clear on that.” Reluctantly, she allowed him his ambiguous logic. Offering him a full smile, Elizabeth added,“I am happy you see it my way.”

Darcy laughed again as he set her on her feet. “I did no such thing, and you well know it, Sweetling.”

“But I will use all my arts and allurements to win you over,” she warned.

“I will enjoy the battle.” Darcy reached for the bell cord to summon the servants. “I will meet you downstairs for breakfast.” He left her standing in the middle of her room as he crossed to the adjoining dressing rooms. Reaching his suite, he waited patiently for Morris to attend his needs. He replayed the past few minutes, as well as their confrontation the previous evening—his wedding night. Elizabeth was right about one thing—he would protect her reputation as his wife.The Darcy staff would soon know that Sally had found him in Elizabeth’s bed; by midafternoon, neighboring household staffs would know.

Then a horrible thought struck him, and Darcy quickly returned

Elizabeth clasped the garment to her and gasped,“Fitzwilliam!”

“My apologies, but we have only a moment.” He stood immobile, his thoughts distracted by his nearly naked wife’s proximity. “The servants believe we spent our wedding night in that bed.” He gestured towards the rumpled bed linens.

“Yes?”

“They will assume you were no maiden.” He stumbled through his thoughts, which were divided by his need to hurry—his need to act—and his need to touch her.

Elizabeth smiled, realizing perfectly where his thoughts lay. “I took care of it. Actually, I did so last night before you joined me.” She indicated a reddish brown stain on the linens—only a few droplets, but, obviously, proof of their night together.

“How?” Darcy’s thoughts returned to her semiclad body, and his groin swelled. He wondered—almost idly— whether he would spend the rest of his life in a perpetual state of arousal.

“A simple prick of the finger, Mr. Darcy.” She held up her left index finger. “Aunt Gardiner kindly regaled me with details of what to expect on the wedding night. She thought to protect my sensibilities, but I found her tale quite enticing. She cautioned me about the pain and the blood.” She, too, gestured towards the linens.“It creates a nice effect, does it not?” She sat on the bed, still holding the gown to her breasts.

Darcy took in the perfect curvature of her hips and how Elizabeth’s hair streamed down her back and draped over her shoulders. He prayed for her to drop the gown so that he might see all of her. It seemed for a moment that she might do just that, but a light tap on the door told them Sally had returned.

He motioned for her to wait before claiming her maid’s services. Then he bowed and disappeared quickly into her dressing room. Elizabeth smiled at his retreating form.Then she called out, “Come.”

Wickham followed Darcy and Elizabeth to Hyde Park, watching them ride side by side while he hid in a copse of trees near the Serpentine. He noted Darcy’s attentiveness to the woman and Elizabeth’s devotion to the man. Even he, although he was loath to admit it, saw they made a charming couple.

Wickham’s finely honed intuition told him Darcy loved Elizabeth. The rules of the game were now altered. Elizabeth would become another source for revenge against the Darcy dynasty, but his opponent’s love for the woman—the first true affection Wickham had noted between a descendant of Ellender D’Arcy and another human being—the first in nearly two hundred years—created dangerous complications. If Darcy were alone in the world, he might gladly die, but Elizabeth Darcy provided him with reasons to live and to fight.

Wickham had questioned a new footman of the Darcy household earlier in the day, learning exactly the nature of Darcy’s plans and where each of the players would be later and at what time. Wickham had paid the servant handsomely for the intelligence, and then journeyed away from the Darcys’ scene of domesticity.At the entrance to Rotten Row he met up with Mrs.Younge, who waited patiently on one of the park benches. “We have some time before we make an appearance. Let us return to Edward Street and set our plans for the day.” He took her hand on his arm and led Amelia Younge away, as if they were a real couple. Wickham enjoyed playing the role; it gave him a sense of what he missed in life, which reinforced his resolve to deny Darcy the same pleasures.

Darcy and Elizabeth called for Georgiana at her residence. He escorted both ladies on a shopping excursion— last-minute details before they left for Pemberley.The changes in the family dynamics demanded they search for special gifts to commemorate Christmas.

Darcy dutifully led the ladies from shop to shop. Elizabeth, who at twenty was not much older than Darcy’s sixteen-year-old sister, understood what Georgiana experienced as a girl, giving them a natural, easy, and lighthearted connection. Darcy complimented himself for choosing a younger wife. Or did she choose me? No matter. Many men chose a younger wife because childbirth was long, difficult, and sometimes fatal, and the choice of a younger bride meant the woman stood a better chance of producing the required heir. For intensely personal reasons, that factor had in no way affected his decision to marry Elizabeth Bennet. He had chosen Elizabeth because he cared deeply for her, plus, she needed his protection. The fact that she could serve as counsel for his sister had not occurred to him at the time. Instead, it was a wonderful revelation.

“You look smug, Mr. Darcy,” his wife whispered as he held the door of the next shop they entered.

“Just thinking how lucky I am, Sweetling.” His smile showed his sense of contentment.

Elizabeth laughed. “Why should you not feel lucky?” she taunted him.“Two women idolize you—your dear sister and Caroline Bingley.” She swatted his arm with her fan before following Georgiana into the well-lit store.

She paused at the counter and waited for his approach. When Darcy stepped up behind her, Elizabeth’s body reacted to him as it always did. Her breath came more quickly and her cheeks flushed. Darcy spoke close to her ear.“Does my wife not idolize me?”

Elizabeth answered softly, delivering the lines without turning around. “Your wife, Mr. Darcy, is of a practical nature. Idols are for schoolgirls and desperate women. I prefer the flesh-and-blood man, someone who strives for perfection and often falls short, but someone who stirs my very soul.”

“Then I am not just lucky, but blessed.”

Elizabeth stayed at the counter, counting to ten before she, too, moved. She walked around the displays, but