Regina Jeffers - Vampire Darcy's Desire

“Was there anything else in the books we should note?” Darcy leaned over the desk, as caught up in the possibility as she.

“I do not know,” Elizabeth confessed. “I sent the majority of them to Pemberley.We will have more time to study them there.”

“Fewer prying eyes.” Darcy recognized the sensibility of her action. “Right now, we should spend our time making lists of what we know of the ballad—of the curse—of Wickham’s habits. Then we can compare them with the folklore. Perhaps a pattern will appear.”

“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth interrupted, “who was that woman today?” Although it pained her to recall her part in the woman’s demise, Elizabeth had to know why she had the sense that Darcy was acquainted with the woman.

He glanced quickly at his sister.“It was Mrs.Younge.”

“Mrs.Younge?” Georgiana was on her feet also. “Are you sure, Fitzwilliam?”

“Who is Mrs.Younge?” Elizabeth demanded.

“Yes, Georgiana, I am positive the woman I fought today was Mrs.Younge.”The girl gasped in disbelief and sank into the nearest chair. Darcy returned his attention to Elizabeth. “Mrs.Younge was once Georgiana’s governess. I believe it was through her that Wickham was able to exact his revenge on my sister.”

Georgiana’s head snapped up in attention.“You told her?”

“Elizabeth is my wife, Georgiana.” Darcy understood his sister’s embarrassment, but he had no time for such propriety. “If she knows of Wickham, how could I keep anything from her? I trust her with my secrets and with my life.”

“What do we know of Mrs.Younge since Wickham’s attack at Ramsgate?”

“She lets lodgings in a less-than-desirable area of London,” he impulsively blurted out, before adding quickly, “I had her investigated after Georgiana’s attack. I thought Wickham might follow the woman to London, so I hired some Bow Street runners to find her.Wickham never appeared, however.”

“Do you know where this Mrs. Younge lives?” Elizabeth needed to know every detail.

“I do not recall the exact address, but it is in the report,” Darcy assured her.“Do you think Wickham is there? ”

“Wickham likely took shelter with Mrs.Younge after your last battle. I suspect you injured him seriously. I doubt he is there now. He disappeared as we ran away today. He was bending over the woman’s body when I looked back—and then he was gone. He probably would be afraid to return there, but he might if your bullet hit him as I suspect it did. He must know you would make the connection; however, we should check it out just the same. Do you not think?”

“It is too late to safely enter that section of London this evening,” Darcy reasoned. “We will pay a visit to Mrs. Younge’s address tomorrow.”

A small voice came from behind them.“Fitzwilliam, when may we return to Pemberley?”

Darcy sought his new wife’s counsel.“When might you wish to leave, Elizabeth?”

“We have commitments to family in the next few days. Plus, if you whisk me away to the country so soon, it might appear you wish to hide me from the ton . I want no rumors to follow our union.”

“I agree. If we withdraw after two days, gossip will run unchecked.”

Elizabeth noted Georgiana’s dissatisfaction with her brother’s response.

“Could I?” Georgiana begged. “I do not wish to be here if Wickham is about.”

“I will arrange it,” Darcy assured her. “Now, we will go down to supper, and then we will return here to finish our discussion. I asked Mrs. Annesley to join us this evening. The two of you will stay here tonight, Georgiana.”

“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”

“I will send to Steventon House to have your things packed. His Lordship plans to depart tomorrow, as soon as our aunt sees fit to leave Bond Street.” Darcy helped his sister to her feet.“You will be safe with Damon at Matlock.”

“And you and Elizabeth will be safe here together?”

Darcy glanced at Elizabeth.“We will…most definitely, we will.”

She opened the door to a seedy-looking house on a nearly deserted street. Darcy circled towards the back of the building as she pushed the door wide, fearing someone might lurk behind it.The sound of the frame banging against the wall reverberated through the empty entrance hall. They came had come to find Wickham. Clutching the iron crucifix in her fist, Elizabeth moved cautiously.

She peered into each room, surprised by the tasteful décor.The dining room, for example, held fine china on a table set for twelve. Elizabeth wondered how anyone who might stay in this neighborhood would react if he saw such elegance. Such a disparity in economic situations must make for fine dinner conversation. Plus, if Mrs.Younge could afford such furnishings, why would she take up residence in the recesses of filth? Wickham. When Elizabeth considered what Wickham’s deviance had done to the woman, the situation made more sense.

Finding no one on the lower level, Elizabeth began making her way slowly up the staircase. Odd that no one, not even a servant, has Her eyes searched the shadows for any movement. Where is Darcy ? she thought.They had agreed he would come through the servants’ entrance.

Elizabeth paused on a landing, debating whether to proceed without him. She looked anxiously at the way she had come in, expecting him to turn the corner at any second, and then she felt it—Wickham stood at the top of the stairs. His steel grey eyes devoured her as he stood in the shadows.

“Mrs. Darcy.” Wickham’s voice sent a cold shiver down her spine, and automatically Elizabeth began to edge her way back down the staircase.

“Mr. Wickham,” she answered, taking note that he kept pace with her retreat. It was one of his favorite cat-and-mouse games; for her every step, he took a matching one, keeping the distance between them constant.

Wickham’s satisfaction showed on his face. His smile increased, and for the first time, Elizabeth noticed his protruding, fanglike teeth. How is it that I never took note of them before? They were exactly like those in the drawings she saw in the books found in the bookstore. All her senses on alert, Elizabeth watched him, anticipating a cobra-like assault. He took each step that she did—challenging her—testing her—preparing to tame her.

Wickham tormented her by lowering his foot ever so slowly before letting it come to rest on the hardwood of the staircase while leaving his other on the previous step. Elizabeth never looked away from Wickham’s stare, allowing her foot to seek the depth of the next stair on its own.

“Do not tell me you plan to run away?” Wickham asked smoothly, and he smiled. He narrowed his gaze and edged forward. “Really, Mrs. Darcy, you should know by now that I prefer my conquests with a little more spirit; I prefer when they fight for their lives. It is so much more satisfying that way.”

“I will fight you,” Elizabeth declared,“but you will find no satisfaction in the results.”

With Elizabeth’s threat, Wickham now took two steps to each

At last, Elizabeth felt her foot touch the floor of the hallway, and, intuitively, she turned towards the still-open front door, hiking up her dress and sprinting away with all her might. She heard Wickham’s footsteps quicken behind her, first on the last of the stairs and then in the hallway.A few more steps to the outside—for her, everything seemed to move in slow motion except Wickham’s advance. She felt him so close to her that she was sure it was his breath on her neck. Then, to her horror, a gust of wind slammed the door closed just as she reached it. Frantically calling Darcy’s name, she pounded on the frame, pulling and twisting the knob, but it did not give.