what she must face, her body stiffened. Would Wickham pounce on her or approach more slowly? Out of the corner of her eye, she sought some sort of weapon—something that might penetrate Wickham’s heart, for nothing else seemed to affect him for long. She found nothing that could help—she saw a clothes tree and a broken umbrella stand in the corner next to a bench, which was likely used for muddy boots.A vase of flowers rested on a table to the left. She backed as far away from him as possible as Wickham’s gaze taunted her, playing with her fear.With all exits blocked, Elizabeth dreaded what was to come.
Patiently, Wickham waited for her survey, allowing time for
“You will deal with me first, Wickham.” Darcy’s voice echoed through the empty house.
Elizabeth gasped.
“Killing both of you on the same day will be a memorable occasion.” He turned slowly to face his greatest adversary, determined to gain the upper hand. Then, as if possessed, Wickham lunged forward, a maelstrom of power hitting Darcy full force and sending them both flying through the air, landing with a crash on the lower stairs.
Darcy answered with an energy of his own, propelling Wickham across the room, slamming the devil against the far wall.
The air filled with the smell of decay and death. Thus assured that Elizabeth’s fear would not quickly dissolve,Wickham purposefully righted himself and then dusted off his sleeves before making his next move. Elizabeth watched in horror as Darcy staggered to his feet, preparing for a new offensive. Elizabeth edged to the left, but a raised hand from both Darcy and Wickham stayed her movement. With a flair she could not have expected,Wickham snapped his fingers, and three pale figures appeared in various doorways. One of them looked vaguely like the woman from the alley. Elizabeth felt her body contract in response.
Before she could reason how that might be, everyone seemed to move at once. Elizabeth saw Darcy knocked to the floor as the three ghostly figures swarmed over him. Like wounded animals mad with rage and blood lust, she heard his cries and the sound of tearing flesh; yet she had her own problems. As Wickham advanced towards her, Elizabeth grabbed the nearest thing—the broken umbrella stand. Flipping it over, she heaved it at him, hoping to retard his progress. She had no time to assess the appalling futility of
“
Elizabeth’s heart raced as if still in the middle of a life-or-death fight, and her breath came in short, ragged bursts, but the reality of what he had said sank in, and she clung to him for reassurance. “I thought you were dying,” she whispered close to his ear.
Darcy caressed her cheek and clutched Elizabeth to his chest. “I will die of old age, my love.We will spend many years together.” He kissed the top of her head.“You dreamed of Wickham, did you not?”
“We went to Mrs. Younge’s house, and Wickham was there.” She still whispered, afraid to voice her fears aloud—afraid of making them real. “Mrs.Younge and two of Wickham’s followers attacked you. I saw it all.” Again, Elizabeth shivered with the image of Darcy’s bloody countenance.
A light tap at the door interrupted her words. Elizabeth sank back against the pillows.“I will see who it is,” Darcy assured her.“I shall be right back.” Elizabeth gave a quick nod, but she, intuitively, clung to him for as long as possible.
Cracking the door only a little, Darcy peered out into the candlelight. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley both stood there, wrapped in robes.“Yes, what is it, Georgiana?”
“We heard someone scream.” Mrs. Annesley moved closer. “Is Mrs. Darcy well?”
“It was a nightmare,” he said, attempting to assuage their concerns. “It makes sense after what happened today.”
“Of course,” Georgiana said, and she started back to her room. “Tell Elizabeth I will see her in the morning.”
Darcy started to close the door, but Mrs. Annesley’s hand shot out to stop him. “Find out about what Mrs. Darcy dreams,” she said.“Her dreams bear moments of truth.”
“How can you be so sure?” Darcy implored her. “Have you seen something else?”
“No, Mr. Darcy, I have not; but Mrs. Darcy has.”
“I do not understand. Does Elizabeth have the Sight also?”
The old woman paused for a long moment before answering. As if in a trance, she said,“Not in the traditional sense.Your wife is not just your future; she has the ability to
Darcy’s mind flashed to the many times he had considered the compelling effects of his wife’s eyes—how the depths of them amazed and enthralled him from the beginning. “Yes, they are, Mrs.Annesley.”
“Ask Mrs. Darcy to relate her recent dreams, especially ones of Mr.Wickham. Something in them is the key to this madness.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Annesley.” He watched as the elderly widow followed his sister back to the room they shared that evening.As he turned back to find Elizabeth curled up in their shared bed, he thought about what his sister’s companion claimed.Years of dealing with the unknown told him to listen to his intuition and to pay attention to Mrs. Annesley’s advice. He would find out about Elizabeth’s dreams and prepare himself for his future.
CHAPTER 16
The door to the Edward Street address stood ajar, and they slipped in unnoticed. Darcy had hired a hack rather than taking his private coach, and he and Elizabeth had dressed inconspicuously to avoid being noticed by Mrs.Younge’s neighbors. No one seemed to be about in the house. Elizabeth called out to servants, but none responded as they made their way from room to room.
In her dream, Mrs. Younge’s decor had demonstrated the woman’s good taste, but, in reality, the furnishings were shabby.The cushions showed threadbare sections, but the place was clean. No dust rested on the cheap
