Regina Jeffers - Vampire Darcy's Desire

“Could Wickham still have a home in Bakewell?” Darcy mused aloud.

“It is possible—or even in Northumberland.”

Yesterday in their readings, they felt they had uncovered the mystery of the dirt in Wickham’s bed. One text claimed a vampire could sleep only if he had his coffin. The account said the beast

“I am not sure, but I do know there have been enough border wars that at least part of Northumberland must consider itself to be part of Scotland. All I know of Northumberland is that our breakfast kippers come from Craster.What did you learn of it at the university?” Elizabeth walked in a circle, scraping the snow with the toes of her ankle boots.

Darcy tried to remember his history lessons. “The area came under English rule with King Edwin. Northumberland stretches from Newcastle upon Tyne to Tynemouth. It is quite undeveloped—sparse high moorlands. There were famous battles, such as when Malcolm II annihilated the Northumbrian army at Carham on the Tweed, but under James I and VI, the Scottish and English claims were united. However, even as late as the early 1700s, there was trouble during the Jacobite rebellion.” He recited the lines as if he were back in school and studying for an exam.

“A house in Northumberland would fit in with Wickham’s need for isolation,” Elizabeth reasoned. “Could we find out where Ellender and Lord Thomas lived? It would tell us from where Wickham originally came—where he was buried—from where he derives his home earth.”

“We can check Dugdale’s catalogue or Debrett’s Baronetage of England or even the Doomsday Book . Surely one of them lists Lord Arawn Benning.” Darcy’s excitement grew; it was their first real lead. “When we have a possible location, I will send out investigators before we make a move.”

“Fitzwilliam, do you realize what this means? Wickham’s hold on the family could be coming to an end.” In complete happiness, Elizabeth turned in a circle, arms spread wide and face raised to meet fresh flakes of newly fallen snow.“I have never felt freer!”

CHAPTER 19

Darcy watched her spin around and around, pure joy streaming from her face, and all at once his heart swelled, too. Suddenly, he felt the weight lift from his shoulders, and it was all because of her—because of his Elizabeth . He did the only thing he could under the circumstances.

“Elizabeth!” he called out.

She recognized the warning in his voice and turned to him. He stood playfully tossing a snowball into the air and catching it once again. Her light green eyes widened in disbelief, turning a forest green in recognition. “Fitzwilliam, you would not. ” She began to back away, a hand held out as protection.

“I would, my dear.” He lifted his arm as if to toss the snow at her, and she broke into a run, heading for the tree line.

Elizabeth heard Darcy’s laughter behind her and the sound of snow crunching under his pursuing feet—and then the snowball smacked her shoulder, spraying icy streams down her neck.

Without thinking, she bent as she ran, scooping up a handful of snow in her glove, squeezing the snow tightly. It was not a very big ball, but it was solid. Stopping suddenly, she turned and let it fly. Darcy, in his chase, did not expect the densely packed ball, which hit his ear and spattered across his cheek.“Why, you…!” he threatened, still advancing.

Catching her up in his arms, he swung Elizabeth around, both of them laughing helplessly. He pretended to drop her just to hear her cry of alarm, and when he sat her down again, he scooped up an armful of snow and dumped it over her head, covering her with frozen flakes.

Elizabeth flicked the cold away from her face with snow-covered gloves and came at him, bent on vengeance. Darcy sprinted to the

“Why is it I do not believe you, my love?” He switched directions several times to fool her, but each time Elizabeth responded accordingly.

“Fitzwilliam, I am getting cold,” she said at last, and dropped the snowballs to the ground in defeat.

Darcy came from behind the tree and enveloped her in his arms, opening his greatcoat to bring her closer to him.“I am sorry, Sweetling. I should have thought as such. I will warm you.” Darcy lowered his mouth to hers, tasting Elizabeth and snow and happiness. He sighed with desire. She loosened her grasp on him and stepped back.Then he felt it. Snow rained down on his bare head, sinking into his shirt and sliding down his back. He looked up to see the last of the flakes cascading from a low-hanging bough. Elizabeth’s laughter faded away as she sprinted from him.

“I will get you, Mrs. Darcy,” he warned and lunged after her, icy streams reaching the band of his breeches.

She knew she stood no chance. Darcy’s long legs and knee boots put her at a disadvantage, so she turned on him and started frantically throwing snow in the air, covering them both in a powdery spray of frosty crystals. Darcy fought his way through the snowy cloud, grabbing Elizabeth up by the waist and dumping her none-too-gingerly into a snowy heap. “You deserve this,” he asserted, as he unceremoniously fell on top of her, wrestling with her in the snow. His weight held her down, although she continued to squirm against him.The snow had nearly frozen his back muscles, but Elizabeth’s grinding hardened him instantly.

“Give up,” he said as he pressed harder.

“Never.” Elizabeth shoved a handful of snow into an opening in his shirt.

Darcy let out a gasp of surprise and a shudder before catching her wrists in his large palm, locking them above her head.“Should

“Only if you warm them for me afterwards.” Elizabeth arched forward, seeking his mouth for comfort.

Darcy brushed his lips across hers. “Woman, what are you trying to do to me? Such words!” His pulse raced.

“I am trying to make you love me, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth blurted out without thinking. Her words brought their struggle to a standstill.

Darcy gazed into her eyes, heavy-lidded with desire, and he lost all sense of reason. “Cease trying, Mrs. Darcy,” he whispered. “I loved you from the beginning.” He wondered about the sanity of admitting his true feelings. What if she does not share my love? He kissed her, parting her lips with his tongue. Coming to himself, he whispered,“What am I doing?”

“Kissing your wife. In public.” Her voice was breathy with desire and raspy with pent-up emotion.

Darcy chuckled with the realization. “I suppose we will be the talk of the servants’ quarters tonight.”

“So much for my hopes of being a model of decorum,” Elizabeth observed.“Do you think we should return to the house now?”

“We have done enough damage to our reputations.” He rolled from her and rose swiftly to stand before her. Extending his hand, he waited for her to join him, but Elizabeth continued to lie in the snow, staring up at him. “Come, Elizabeth,” he demanded, reaching for her.

“No.” She did not move.

“No?” He looked confused. “Why ever not?” He let his hand drop to his side.

Elizabeth licked her lips; surprisingly, she felt nervous.“Because I did not get the chance to tell my husband that I am completely and hopelessly in love with him.”

Darcy’s heart leapt in his chest. He extended his hand again, and this time Elizabeth took it.They walked silently back to the house,

Elizabeth kissed him back and wondered, Could I really be married to this magnificent man? A man to whom I give my heart—my body—my soul?

If the young master had scandalized his staff by kissing his new wife on the south lawn during a snowstorm, the next few days kept the gossips even busier. Darcy and Elizabeth resumed their fencing lessons, using the ballroom as the arena for the activity; and if that was not outrageous enough, Mr. Darcy procured a pair of breeches, a shirt, and a waistcoat from one of the young groomsmen for Mrs. Darcy’s use. The lady dressed as a gentleman, tying her long hair back with several ribbons.

“What do you believe Mrs. Darcy will do next? ” one of the chambermaids asked as she slid into her place along a bench in the kitchen.

“That is enough, Milly,” Mrs. Reynolds warned her. “It is not our place to judge the Darcys.”

“But Mrs. Reynolds,” the girl retorted, “even you must think this beyond reason.”

Mrs. Reynolds gazed firmly at the girl, but everyone in the kitchen knew it was meant for all.“Reason means knowledge, so I will tell you, Milly, what I know of the man who is our master. I have never known a cross word from Mr. Darcy in my life, and I have known him since he was four years old. If I were to go through the world, I could not meet with a better. I observed that they who are good-natured when children are good-natured when they grow up, and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most generous-hearted boy in the world. His father was an excellent man, and his son will be just like him—just as affable to the poor. He is the best landlord and the best master that ever lived. Not like wild young men nowadays, who think of nothing but themselves.”

Mr. Lockwood joined the conversation, “Mrs. Reynolds is correct. servants but what will give him a good name. Some people call him proud, but I am sure I never saw anything of it. To my fancy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young men.”

“Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her.” Mrs. Reynolds set down her teacup. “And just as with his sister, Mr. Darcy gives his wife freedom to be who she chooses to be. I do not believe every woman should pick up a sword, but Mrs. Darcy wishes to, and she does so with her husband’s permission and his participation.And as far as Mrs. Darcy is concerned, she treats each of us with kindness. I am impressed with her civility.”

“That she is, Ma’am,” one of the footmen added. “Mrs. Darcy was all apologies when we moved furniture for the Master.”

Mrs. Reynolds nodded in agreement. “He is exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, most suits her, and she him. The man is happy—at last, after all these years of loneliness, he is happy, and I would tolerate the worst harpy to see him such. Thank the heavens that all I have to do is look the other way when the Master playfully shows affection for his wife. When Mr. Darcy is contented, so are the members of his staff.”

Milly blushed with the reprimand.“Of course, Mrs. Reynolds. I meant nothing by my remark.”

“Then it is best not mentioned.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

He sat in the Bennets’ parlor, paying homage to Lydia Bennet while other officers from the troop flirted with Kitty and Mary Bennet, along with Charlotte and Maria Lucas. Wickham hated such dalliances; he preferred the feast to the hunt.Yet he wanted no one suspicious until he reeled in his prey—until it was too late for the Bennets or the Darcys.

“Will you travel with the Forsters, Miss Lydia?” As usual, he

Lydia frowned in response.“Papa has not relented.”

“I do so hope you attend the ball, Miss Lydia, and I wish to claim the first set.”Wickham gave her one of his best smiles.

Lydia batted her eyelashes at him and fanned her face.“You will be in London, Mr.Wickham?”

Now ,Wickham thought, now , she is ready . As if to entice her, he lowered his voice.“ I will be in London if you will, Miss Lydia, and it would give me great pleasure if I might take you to see the sights. Of course, none of the beauties of the city will be able to compete with your beauty. If I might be so bold, I would like to take you riding in Hyde Park or to the theatre while you are in town. Anything you wish, Miss Lydia.”