Page 25 of Bitten By Mr. Darcy
He backed away, shaking his head, feeling unsteady.
“Why?” said Caroline, her voice full of tears.
“What?”
“What is it that’s wrong with me?” she said.
He looked up at her. “Nothing,” he said in disbelief.
“Well, there must be something or else you wouldn’t have—”
“No, sometimes you simply don’t feel it, that is all,” he said. “I did not feel that sort of feeling for you. I do notknowwhy, but it is just that.”
She drew back, stung.
He sighed heavily. “I am not leaving,” he said to Bingley. “Not unless I take her with me, away from Elizabeth.”
THAT NIGHT, ELIZABETHwoke to find Louisa Hurst in her bedroom, kneeling to look into Jane’s eyes, murmuring to her a set of directives.
When the vampire noticed Elizabeth was awake, she shrugged at her. “You are not charmable now that you have Darcy’s blood in you. Try not to cause a panic, if you please? We are not so easily killed, you see, so even if a mob of townspeople comes for us, we shall likely survive, and it will only be a lot of effort on everyone’s part for nothing.”
“I… I shan’t,” said Elizabeth. “What are you telling Jane?”
“Oh, just releasing her. Had she been going on about how she was supposed to stay with us, that she was ill, that sort of thing?”
“Yes, actually,” said Elizabeth.
“Turned all that off. She should be quite herself now, and she won’t remember any of it.” Louisa smiled at her. “I wish I could help you out in that same way, of course. Would if I could.”
But Elizabeth was glad to remember.
Perhaps glad was the wrong word, for it wasn’t a pleasure, but she would have been stricken to have it all gone, to never remember the way it felt to have Mr. Darcy’s lips on hers,his hands roaming possessively over her body, his teeth sunk decisively into her skin.
Thinking this, she felt a surge of longing go through her, and it was not her own. It was Mr. Darcy’s.
He had felt her longing for him, and he had longed for her in return.
She shut her eyes and lay back in the bed and she shuddered. They were connected in some odd way, were they not? What did that mean?
It took her a while to sleep that night, but when she did, she dreamed of Mr. Darcy again, dreamed of his dark and deep kiss.
The next day, there was a letter, news that they were having a guest coming. It was her father’s heir, a Mr. Collins, and the way his letter was worded, it seemed to indicate that he might be interested in marrying one of the Bennet sisters. It would make sense. The estate was entailed and would be passed to him, so it would be polite of him to marry one of the daughters and keep the estate in the family, after all.
It would likely be Jane, Elizabeth supposed, for Jane was the eldest.
However, though Mrs. Hurst had claimed Jane would be back to herself, she was not. Jane was no longer speaking about being ill or staying at Netherfield, that was true, but she was dreamy and quiet, humming softly to herself much of the time, gazing off blankly into space.
Her mother called her name incessantly one evening after dinner. Finally, Jane heard her.
“What is wrong with you, Lord, girl?” said Mrs. Bennet. “Can you not hear me speaking to you?”
“Sorry, Mama,” said Jane. “I was preoccupied with my thoughts, I suppose.”
“Whatever were you thinking of?”
Jane blushed. “Nothing, no one.”
“Was it Mr. Bingley?” said her mother, raising her eyebrows.
