Regina Jeffers - Vampire Darcy's Desire

The air rushed from him in relief.“Thank God.”

Then Darcy quickly untied Georgiana’s hands, and both he and Elizabeth helped her to a seat between them. “Are you hurt?” he asked as he massaged her wrists.

“I am well, dear brother,” she responded. “Thanks to you.”

Darcy cupped Elizabeth’s chin with his palm and, leaning across his sister, kissed his wife’s lips tenderly. “Thank you for saving both of us. ”

Tears misted Elizabeth’s eyes as he pulled back to gaze at her. Georgiana sobbed, but Elizabeth raised her chin in defiance. “I could not become a widow so soon after my marriage,” she declared.“Nor could I lose a sister I had so recently gained.”

Georgiana released her hold on Elizabeth and sat back quietly in her seat. By and by, Elizabeth picked up Georgiana’s right hand and Fitzwilliam her left. All three held hands in silence—united as one, with one purpose—for the rest of the trip.

Arriving at Overton House, Darcy sent servants scrambling for the ladies’ pelisses and his overcoat before they departed the carriage. It was a façade of normalcy, played out for the benefit of the neighbors. What each of them wore under their outer garments might be tattered and torn—might be smudged with dirt and blood—but no one else would know.

He helped first his wife and then his sister depart the coach, and, leisurely, Darcy followed them into the interior of the house. They would deal with this together and in their own time. “Mr. Frasser, please have tea and some brandy sent up to Mrs. Darcy’s sitting room. And each of us would like a warm bath.” Elizabeth and Georgiana did not stop in the foyer. Instead, they ascended the main staircase, heading towards the personal quarters.We will need privacy after that. I will ring when we wish supper.” Both women turned towards Elizabeth’s suite of rooms.

“Certainly, Mr. Darcy.” The butler bowed as Darcy followed the women.

Elizabeth waited patiently for Darcy’s staff to set up the tub before the fireplace and bring in the water. Then she helped Georgiana undress for a bath. Neither woman wanted a maid’s service on that

As Elizabeth slid into the warm water laced with lavender oil, the realization of what she had done finally hit her. She submerged herself in the water, needing to wash away the horror, trying to make herself clean again. How long? she wondered. How long will it take before the mental images of this ghastly incident fade?Will they ever go away? The water washed over her, caressing every inch—invading every crevice; and she wanted to stay there forever—under the water—where purity still lived.

She counted. How long could she hold her breath? What would happen when she ran out of air? Would she shrivel up like the woman in the alley? Yet no matter how much she wanted to stay under the warm water—stay where sins were washed away—Elizabeth’s body forced her to come up, gulping for air, sputtering water. She pulled her hair away from her face and wiped the water from her eyes, trying to clear her thoughts, attempting to obliterate the images lodged behind her lids.

Then Elizabeth sat quietly in the lukewarm water, fingertips stroking her lips, seeing herself from a distant vantage point, stabbing the woman—again and again.

Painstakingly, Darcy completed his own ablutions.This evening he would go without the customary cravat and jacket, and opt instead for a loose-fitting shirt and waistcoat. His appearance was the least of his worries.

He, Elizabeth, and Georgiana had survived. Needing to reassure himself, Darcy moved towards his wife’s room. The thought of what had happened that day compelled him to be where she was—confirming she was safe.

Georgiana sat sipping tea in Elizabeth’s sitting room.“Where is she?” he demanded, too consumed by his fears to be his normally polite self.

“Elizabeth is bathing.” Georgiana did not look up, and he noted that she shivered.

Her distress pained him, and Darcy leaned over to caress her face and kiss the top of his sister’s head.“I am sorry,” he whispered before he moved on to find his wife. His need to see Elizabeth immediately outweighed even his duty to comfort his sister.

The screen blocked his view, but nothing moved in the water, and Darcy momentarily wondered if she was finished and dressed. Then he heard Elizabeth break the water’s surface. A quick intake of air and a choking gulp frightened him. He rushed forward, expecting to have to pull her from the tub. But as he reached the screen’s edge, Darcy held back. Elizabeth swept her hair from her face. Ringlets of auburn curls streamed down her back, but his wife did not move. Elizabeth sat in the cooling water, lost in thought.

Darcy could not disturb her. Instead, he enjoyed the view of Elizabeth’s nude body—the curve of her spine and the perfect swell of her hips.

Then Elizabeth began to sob.At first, he thought to let her have her cry—but then she purposefully submerged herself again. Her limbs twitched as Elizabeth mourned for someone she had not known, and she opened her mouth to let the sorrow out. Water rushed in, and Darcy moved immediately to halt her madness.

Hands reached into the tub, lifting her from a watery grave. She choked, coughed violently, and spit water. Darcy firmly pounded on her back, forcing her to spew the last of the liquid. Then he pulled her to her feet, and, immediately, Elizabeth felt the warmth of a large towel surround her before Darcy lifted her from the tub.

Elizabeth tried to swallow—to clear the burn from her throat—to say something to him—but all she could do was to cough again before leaning against his chest—into his love—into his protection.

“I have you,” he murmured as he took another towel to help dry her.“I will never let you go.”

Elizabeth nodded, unable to speak, but thankful for the strength of his arms.

“Do not leave me, Elizabeth,” Darcy whispered close to her ear. “I cannot live without you.” Elizabeth nodded mutely. Darcy sat in

“Never,” she said as she kissed his lips, eager to be a part of him.

CHAPTER 15

Darcy lost track of how long he held her to him.The damp towel slid away from her back, and he knew nothing but the feel of Elizabeth’s skin on his fingertips. He caressed the smoothness of her spine, leaving a trail of fire along the curve of her back. “ Fitzwilliam, ” she whispered as she showered feathery kisses along his chin line.

Darcy’s hands searched her body, needing desperately to possess her in every way. “You are exquisite,” he murmured as her body arched into his hand. The back of his hand brushed against her breast, and her nipple hardened instantly. “I want to make you mine,” he groaned.

“I want to be yours, Fitzwilliam,” she breathed.

Elizabeth’s surrender was a red flag. Darcy loosened his embrace, but he did not withdraw.“How—how could I?” he stammered. “How could I take the chance of turning my darling …my darling Elizabeth into the kind of beast we met today?” He lightly stroked her chin as he spoke, captivated by her nearness and appalled at what he desired.

“There is no way…no way our passion could produce evil,” she declared.

“My loveliest Elizabeth,” Darcy whispered. He traced her lips, wishing to return to them and to drink his fill.“What we possess is pure, so pure I cannot destroy it to satisfy my hunger.”

Darcy read the disappointment written on her face. He wondered for a moment if Elizabeth might actually love him. They never spoke of love—at least, not between them. Their story to everyone else was one of undying love for each other, but he and Elizabeth had never said such words. Did he love Elizabeth? Since he had met her, Darcy could not breathe unless she was close. his Elizabeth . Even though it was selfish of him,—for she deserved better—Darcy had never been happier since the day Elizabeth had appeared before him at the Meryton assembly. Aloud, he said,“It is time to dress for dinner, Elizabeth.”