Page 70 of Midnight at Pemberley

“Aunt noted how you judiciously covered my mark with the emerald necklace. She shared her diversionary techniques with me at the opera.”

Her husband smiled good-humoredly. “I believe I will never be able to look your aunt in the face again.”

“I feel the same about my uncle. Aunt told me too much and not enough, both at the same time.”

Disappointment claiming him, Darcy released his hold on her and straightened his waistcoat. “I suppose we must think about this.”

Elizabeth looked down shyly. “I suppose.”

Before Darcy could respond, Mr. Nathan tapped on the door. “Enter.” “Mr. Darcy, a box arrived for Mrs. Darcy from London. Shall I place it in her room?”

“It is the books, William,” Elizabeth said from behind him, where she tucked a few loose strands into her chignon.

“The library will be more appropriate, Mr. Nathan.”

“Yes, Sir.” The man began to back out of the room.

“Mr. Nathan, would you place a small table, several straight-backed chairs, paper, and pens and ink in the library also. My wife and sister have studies they wish to pursue.”

“Assuredly, Mr. Darcy.” The man exited immediately.

“Well, my love, shall we see what insights the books bring us?”

Wickham lounged leisurely in the corner of Mrs. Philips’s drawing room. He held a glass of port, but he did not drink. It was all part of the illusion. The Bennet ladies had arrived five minutes prior. He anticipated it taking at least a fortnight for him to maneuver Lydia Bennet from her family. Discreet inquiries told him the Forsters planned to travel to London for a Christmas military ball, and Mrs. Forster wished Miss Lydia to be her special friend and join the party. In reality, he could simply whisk Miss Lydia away, placing her under his spell, but he wished a dramatic statement that only the Darcys would understand.

“Mr. Wickham,” Lydia called out loudly when she spotted him, “it has been a lifetime since we last saw you.”

Mrs. Bennet allowed her youngest daughter too much freedom in her deportment, and this annoyed him. He always preferred refined ladies to those displaying no “class.” He was top-lofty in his tastes, which were established two centuries prior with Lady Ellender. The image of his first love flickered momentarily before his eyes. He thought of her often of late, especially after viewing Georgiana Darcy. It was as if he were coming full circle, returning to where it began. Distinctions existed between those he destroyed immediately and those he kept close as part of his inner sanctum. He gritted his teeth in displeasure, but responded, “Miss Lydia, it is a pleasure to hear you missed my company.”

“You are a tease!” She playfully struck his arm with her fan. “You remember my sisters, Mr. Wickham.”

Wickham offered Misses Mary and Kitty Bennet an abbreviated bow.

“How could I forget such beautiful ladies?”

Lydia pulled him after her. “You will sit with me, Mr. Wickham.”

Over the next hour, much to Wickham’s chagrin, Lydia talked incessantly of lottery tickets and of the fish she lost and the fish she won. Although her immaturity irritated him, he took great care that his manners recommended him to everybody. He did not leave Lydia’s side, not even during supper. Throughout the excruciating evening, he took pleasure in visualizing her end. It will be satisfying finally to silence her.

“Miss Lydia,” he said as he prepared to take his leave, “may I call on you the day after tomorrow?” If he meant to stay in the area, he would require some means to replenish his hunger for blood. He would take his desires to London, away from the local officials.

“I look forward to it, Mr. Wickham.”

“William.” Elizabeth kissed his ear to wake him. Darcy knew he should open his eyes, but having Elizabeth seek his affection was exhilarating. He slowed his breathing. She pulled on the lobe with her lips, sucking, the way he taught her. His shaft grew as she blew lightly upon his ear. “William.” This time she slid her tongue in his ear. A jolt of desire shot through him. He had not taught her that! Unable to withstand her seduction, Darcy pulled her atop him and captured her lips with his.

When he finally released her, she giggled. “Good! You are awake.”

“Did you think I could sleep through such an enticing good morning?” he protested.

“It is snowing,” she declared. “There are several inches on the ground.”

“Welcome to Derbyshire winters.” Darcy pulled the blankets tighter to keep them both warm.

Elizabeth pushed the hair from his eyes. “I love it when it snows. It rarely snows this early in Hertfordshire.” She rolled from his embrace. “Shall we go for a walk in the snow?”

“We have not yet broken our fast, Elizabeth,” Darcy grumbled.

“I do not want breakfast.”