Regina Jeffers - Vampire Darcy's Desire

“It is finished, Darcy,” Damon assured him as he unbuttoned Darcy’s coat and waistcoat.“We will get you to a physician.”

“Thank you, Damon.” Darcy’s words were breathy and a bit slurred.“For everything.”

Damon ripped Darcy’s shirt to see the wound better. “No thanks are necessary.We have always been more than cousins.”The colonel touched Darcy’s side. “This one seems to be a surface wound.Anyplace else?”

“Just my arm.” He touched the colonel’s shoulder. “And you, Damon?”

“More bruises and lacerations than I care to know about, but I will be well.” Damon continued to check for other possible wounds.

Darcy’s voice asked for the truth:“How did Elizabeth fare?”

“Mrs. Darcy did what was asked. There were a few close calls, but I tried to spare Elizabeth the enormity of what we did. I feared for how it might affect her disposition.”

Darcy swallowed hard. He had never even considered how such destruction might affect his wife. Her personality always seemed larger than life; he had never thought that anything could put a dent in her armor.

“I could not have finished this without her.” Darcy ran his hand in frustration across his face. “Elizabeth is everything right in my world, Damon.”

“I know, Darcy.”

Elizabeth’s hurried footsteps ended the conversation. “I found some sashes in the priest’s quarters,” she said as she approached the bench, but then Elizabeth went rigid, staring off into the cemetery, and Darcy followed her gaze to see George Wickham standing ten feet away—a broken lance still embedded in his chest.

Realizing the contest still raged on, Darcy struggled to sit up, and as Damon supported his back, he whispered,“My right boot… gun…one shot…hit his heart.” Damon helped Darcy swing his legs around to a seated position and then backed away.

“I will not make the mistake again, Darcy, of changing into something you can control,” Wickham hissed. “Luckily, one of my powers is rejuvenation.A night’s sleep will heal these wounds.”

Darcy forced himself to his feet. “Your coffin is destroyed, Wickham.Where will you find such sleep?”

“I will sleep with Lady Ellender.” Wickham took a menacing step towards Darcy, and, immediately, both Elizabeth and Damon stood between them. “We do not have to do this again, do we, Darcy?”

“You will need to go through me, Sir, to reach my husband.” Elizabeth reached into her pocket for the small bottle of holy water the priest had left for Darcy in the back of the church. She had planned to use it to help clean his wounds. Now, she moved her thumb to uncork it.

“And through me, also,” the colonel contended as he carefully cocked the gun he palmed in his hand.

“As you see, Wickham, even humans have loyal followers.” Darcy smiled at the show of defiance.

Wickham bristled with anger. “I will not have this!” He strode forward, his right arm extended to bring forth his power, when, suddenly, in desperation, Elizabeth released the vial, showering Wickham with the blessed water.

A cry of alarm filled the air as the being now controlling Wickham’s body covered his face with his hands.The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the colonel lunged to bring Wickham directly in front of him. The shrieks continued, but, undaunted, Damon placed the short muzzle of the gun to Wickham’s chest and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gun momentarily drowned out the shrieks, and then total silence reigned. Gunpowder mixed with the stench of death surrounded them, and this time when he fell, none doubted that Wickham would not stand again. His body shriveled to skin and bones. No one spoke. Darcy, Elizabeth, and the colonel stood transfixed by the sight of the rotted corpse of the creature who had plagued them and theirs for two hundred years.

“Mr. Darcy?” the softly accented speech of Ellender D’Arcy shocked them all.“Is he gone forever?”

Darcy found his voice first. “Seorais Winchcombe is no more, Lady Ellender.”

“I am not sorry to hear it. It is time. I should never have traded Seorais’s life for Arawn’s, but I knew of no other way to save the man I loved.Yet nothing was the same after that. It affected my dear Arawn in ways to which I cannot put words.” Pure sadness crossed her face.

Elizabeth edged forward and spoke to Ellender as though she were a troubled child.“Lady Ellender, it is nearly dawn; you should return to your bed.”

Ellender looked about her, seeing the first streaks of light in the sky. “I wish to never spend another night without Arawn.You will see to that, Mr. Darcy?”

“I am your servant, Lady Benning.” Darcy offered a pain-ridden bow.

Ellender D’Arcy pivoted to return to the open vault.“I will follow her,” Elizabeth said as she handed Damon the bandages she held.

“Lady Ellender is still a vampire,” Damon warned under his breath.“Take the sword.”

Elizabeth nodded her head in understanding and then followed the apparition to the center of the cemetery, keeping a proper distance in case of a surprise attack.

At the crypt, Ellender D’Arcy turned to Elizabeth before entering. “Mrs. Darcy, what is your husband’s relationship to my family?”

Caught unawares by the question, Elizabeth stammered, “I—I am unsure, Lady Benning. We have been married for so short a time.You are at least ten generations apart.Yet it is uncanny how much Mr. Darcy’s sister looks like you.”

“Does your husband suffer from the curse?” The lilting roll of her accent softened the evilness of the word.

“Mr. Darcy was told that he does. He exhibits some of the powers.”

Ellender D’Arcy shook her head with concern. “He has not infected you?”

“My husband does the honorable thing and protects me.”

“Once Seorais took his revenge, I refused Lord Benning. I would not take the chance that in a moment of passion that I would destroy the one thing I most cherished. I could not bring myself to hurt him any more than I already had.” She straightened the bodice of her gown.

“Did you ever love Seorais, Lady Benning?”

Ellender looked off, as if remembering. “Seorais Winchcombe’s father served as an overseer on the D’Arcy land. My father would never have tolerated such an alliance. I found him most pleasing in his demeanor, but from the first moment I saw Arawn Benning, I could consider no other. Surely you understand, Mrs. Darcy. Two men fight for your favor.”

Elizabeth looked around to make sure no one would hear her respond.“I love the colonel, but I am in love with my husband. If I never knew Mr. Darcy, I could live a comfortable, loving life with the colonel, but I do know Mr. Darcy. Fitzwilliam is my reason to go on living; I cannot breathe without him.”

Ellender smiled and looked lovingly at the Benning crypt.“It is as I suspected.Arawn will be pleased when I join him in heaven and when I convey how our families are joined again.” Ellender turned and entered the vault. Elizabeth closed the inner door of the tomb and then closed the iron gate. The lock was not important. Lady Ellender would go nowhere; she was ready to know peace.

The three of them sat in the church, waiting for the first of the workers whom Gordy had promised to take to the graveyard. Damon and Elizabeth had concocted elaborate plans as to what would happen that day. By count, one and twenty graves needed to be addressed. From each, the coffin would be exhumed and opened; a coin would be placed under the deceased’s tongue and a stake driven through the heart. Darcy and the colonel would see to that personally, trying to shield the town’s folk from experiencing the mutilation of a loved one’s corpse. And then the coffin would be replaced.Although highly unusual, the local priests agreed to last rites and to consecrating the land again, as those needing to be reburied were counterfeit in that manner.

They promised each of the twenty workers a month’s pay if all the work was completed in one day. It would be hard, back-breaking work in the frozen soil of January, but the pay assured their diligence.

The physician arrived early. Each of the three of them anticipated the need for one. Both Elizabeth and the colonel insisted he attend to Darcy first. The back wound, as they expected, was the worst; but miraculously, no internal damage seemed apparent. Bandaged and cleaned by the doctor and Elizabeth, Darcy looked very much the perfect country gentleman when they finished.

Elizabeth bathed in the small bowl provided by the priest and donned a simple day dress. She would not shock the locals by appearing in men’s breeches.A bruise shadowed her cheek, and the

The colonel, too, showed wear and tear.The concussion he had suffered was of most concern. Exhaustion—the natural letdown after such a battle—slowed his step, but his mind still raced.“Darcy, what do we do with Wickham’s remains? Obviously, he cannot be buried anywhere around here.”

“I think I have just the place.”

Elizabeth joined the two of them in the front pews. “Of what do we discuss?”

Darcy took her hand; Elizabeth leaned over the back of the pew upon which he rested.The physician had ordered him not to move for fear of opening the back wound again. “What to do with Wickham.”

“And?”

“There is an island less than two miles out called Lindisfarne. Have you heard of it?”

“The one from Scott’s poem?” Damon seemed surprised by the reference. “It curled not Tweed alone, that breeze/ For, far upon Northumbrian seas/ It freshly blew, and strong/ Where from high Whitby’s cloistered pile/ Bound to St. Cuthbert’s holy isle/ It bore a barque along.” 1Elizabeth repeated the lines. “I never made the connection with how close we are to Berwick on Tweed.”

Sitting up to address them, Darcy continued his reasoning.“The island is nearly deserted, and is called the Holy Isle as it was the base of Christian evangelizing in northern England and southern Scotland. About the time that this madness started, the parliamentarians took the castle on the island for the king during the Civil Wars. For me, though, the monastery and the holy relics associated with Lindisfarne will serve as a deterrent for this evil to ever resurface. Plus, an island serves another purpose. A vampire cannot cross running water. We can put Wickham by one of the springs or even by the lake.”

“This is absolutely amazing,” the colonel fumed as he paced across the front of the church. “You burn Wickham’s house to the god, throw holy water on him, and shoot him through the heart with a silver bullet. How many ways will you protect yourself from this madness? Let us simply take him to the woods and burn what is left of Wickham’s body!”

“Damon, you have not lived with this fear night and day for the past twelve years! I have!You will excuse me if I am overcautious! ”

The two men stared at each other in a battle of wills. Finally, the colonel gave way.“Then I will do it.You cannot make a round trip by boat, trek across an island, and bury a corpse.Your injury will not allow it. Can you take care of this; I mean, get up and down in the graves and drive the stake through the heart of each of those Elizabeth and I vanquished?”

“I will help Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth added innocently.

“No!” Both men ordered in unison. Darcy continued while the colonel looked away. “You will not do this, Elizabeth. It is too gruesome.”

“But, Fitzwilliam—” she began; however, when he raised his hand, she fell silent. Although she disagreed with his assessment of her “delicate nature,” for once Elizabeth allowed Darcy his moment. She could only challenge his masculinity so many times without destroying it completely.