Vampire Darcy's Desire

“The day of the attack at the manor house.”

“Why did you not tell me before?”

“I suppose it just slipped my mind.”

Mrs.Annesley interrupted,“What do you remember, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Well, …I was running through the woods, trying to escape. Wickham did not run, but he kept pace with me.The wind carried him forward or perhaps he floated.” Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, ashamed of the next part.“Wickham bade me to come to him, and I could do nothing else.Then it began to rain, but only on me; only I was tormented by the wind and the rain.”

Darcy sat down beside her.“Go on.”

“The mud was pulling at my feet and legs, but I kept trying to reach where Wickham stood, waiting for me. My body moved on its own. Finally, a gigantic deer stepped from the shadows. He had your eyes, Fitzwilliam, so I trusted him implicitly. Then he lowered his head, and I took hold of his antlers. Easily removing them, I charged at Wickham, and the horns pierced his chest.

Georgiana leaned forward, anxious to hear the rest.“Then?”

“Then nothing.” Elizabeth looked around sheepishly. “Then I woke up.”

Georgiana wrinkled her nose in disappointment. “What could such a silly dream mean?”

Mrs. Annesley’s gentle eyes told them she had her own opinions. “It seems to me that Mrs. Darcy’s dream tells us that the legends of vampires not tolerating running water might have some merit, as well as what we read yesterday about driving an ash or white thorn stake through the heart with a single strike to destroy them. We just need to figure out the deer and the many-colored blood. All the answers are there; I am sure of it.We just need to ask the right questions.”

It was Christmas Eve, and Wickham knew that he need not spend it in Meryton, trying to woo the youngest Bennet sister. Miss Jane Bennet and the aunt and uncle from London had arrived several days earlier, along with a houseful of nieces and nephews. He would make little progress in his quest, so he took himself off to one of the gaming halls peppering the London back streets. Even with the religious holiday on the next day, patrons packed the place. He supposed it was because the Black Ghost served as both a tavern and a gaming establishment. The tavern, with its locals and its lowlifes, was filled with boisterous drunks, while the three private rooms in the back burst with some of the ton’s finest. Men won and lost fortunes while laborers and sailors pissed away their hard-earned money on a tankard of watered-down ale.The owner of the Black Ghost thought of everything.

Wickham did not gamble—just as he did not eat or drink. He had no need for such activities, but he took a jaunt through the gaming rooms, seeing if anyone interested him. It did not matter consummate lover.

However, if no woman was available, a man or a boy would do, and it was more an issue of brute force.The feasting became an act of base survival, like an animal overcoming its prey. Actually, he hated it when he took someone simply because he hungered for him like a lion claiming a gazelle as food in the wild.Wickham preferred a woman.With a woman, he considered himself an artist.

Finding no one whom he thought might consider leaving with him, he returned to the public rooms. Laying on a good one for the holidays, probably to cover their loneliness, drunken louts spoke loudly and shoved each other.Aware of the alcohol-induced happiness circulating around him, Wickham found a small table in a darkened corner, where he could watch the goings-on. As he settled himself, he took on the image of James Denny. He could not be seen leaving the bar as himself.

In a few minutes, a busty bar maid, no longer young, came to the table, swiping at it with a none-too-clean rag. “Need some Christmas cheer, Guv’nor?” she asked as she circled the table a second time with the cloth.

“A tankard of ale, if you please.”Wickham’s eyes found hers. She was not what he would normally choose, but as he knew the Christian holiday kept many people at home, he would make do. The woman’s breasts swelled from the tight-fitting bodice of an equally

The woman took full note of his appearance, and Wickham offered up a lonely smile, playing on her pity. He usually took more time with his seduction, but after what had happened in Meryton, the possibility of his disguise fading played on his mind.

The chaos swirled behind her as she made the mistake of looking deeply into his eyes to judge his character. He changed instantly from affable gentleman to supreme seducer. “I might be persuaded, Dearie, if ye be interested.” Her voice cleared away the inebriated din of the room.

Wickham’s hand lightly stroked her bare forearm. “May I ask your name, Sweet Lady?”

Enthralled by the gleam in the swirling grey of his eyes, the woman did not move. “Me mama named me Lucinda. Most call me Lucy.”

“I will call you Lucy or Love or my Heart.” The words made little difference because she could not withdraw even if she wished to do so. “When do you leave work, my lovely Lucy?” His voice was sweet.

“Me thinks it be mighty soon. I come in early today.” She leaned into his light touch.

Wickham winked at her, solidifying his hold.“You have a place we might visit?”

“It be just a sleeping room.”

“I have no desire to sleep.”Wickham leaned back in the chair to release his hold on her.“Say we will not sleep, my lovely Lucy.”

The woman shook her head, trying to clear it. “No, Guv’nor, we will take no sleep.” She gave him a smile, showing one missing tooth.“I will bring ye the tankard. I be askin’ Harry about leavin’.”

“That would be capital, Lucy.”

The woman disappeared into the crowded room.As she departed, Wickham visualized what he would do to her. Getting her to a room, he would make her submit to him with a twitch of his eyes.

Surprisingly, Lucy appeared at the table in less than a quarter hour.“Ye be ready, Guv’nor?” She extended a