Vampire Darcy's Desire [Regina Jeffers] (fb2) читать постранично, страница - 94


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class="book">“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.”1 Elizabeth 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.

“If you must do something, take some of the village women who came out to help their husbands to the house. Gather the ashes from the fire and spread them about in the woods and on the hill. Wickham’s coffin is buried among those ashes; we want no chance of his ever finding peace there again.”

Elizabeth knew not to argue when her husband used that tone. “Yes, Fitzwilliam. May I, at least, join you when you address Lady Ellender?”

Darcy paused, considering her request.“If you wish.”

“Gordy is here, Darcy. I just heard the wagon. I will take one of the horses into the village and make arrangements to take Wickham’s remains to the coast. Possibly, someone in town knows of a

“Thank you, Damon.” Darcy stood to put on his own coat. “Elizabeth, if you will assist me.”

“I will return soon and help with the graves until the wagon is ready to take away the remains.” With that, the colonel left the church and headed for Stanwick.

Darcy watched him go. “He does not understand how this haunts me.” He turned to his wife.“Am I being unreasonable?”

Elizabeth helped him into the coat. His injuries made each of his movements stiff and restrained.“Probably.Yet if it gives you your own serenity, then celebrate it. Additional safeguards cannot be called foolish in that case.”


Less than an hour later, Damon returned with the wagon and a makeshift coffin. He and Peter wrapped Wickham’s remains in two blankets and loaded them into the box. Nailing it shut, they prepared to leave.“It is an hour to the shore and more than an hour to the island. I sent a man ahead to arrange for a boat of which he knew. I am afraid it will be near dark when I return.” Damon pulled Darcy to the side, where they might speak privately.“I asked the innkeeper to provide meals for everyone throughout the day. He was happy for the extra business. That way, the men will not have to