Page 105 of The Lost Prophecy

Chapter Fifteen: Letters and Judgements

ON THE DAY SHE WAS to marry a man who had been immortal for more than three centuries, Elizabeth awoke to the discovery that matrimony still required stockings.

Six pairs lay on the foot of her bed, selected by her mother according to principles which had altered three times since breakfast. Two more had been rejected because their embroidery was insufficiently bridal, although Elizabeth could not imagine how anyone at the ceremony might inspect her ankles without creating a scandal more memorable than the wedding.

Jane sat on the floor beside the travelling trunk, folding a chemise with absolute serenity, having survived her mother’s instructions by ceasing to hear them. A small sapphire ring gleamed on her left hand whenever she smoothed the linen.

“You are putting that in the wrong trunk,” Elizabeth said.

Jane blinked. “This is the trunk marked for Pemberley.”

“That one is intended to remain at Longbourn.”

“But the label says Derbyshire.”

“Mamma changed her mind after Hill packed it. She believes a married woman requires separate trunks for the north and south of England.”

Jane removed the chemise and held it in her hands. “Then I am grateful Mr Darcy does not own another estate in the west. We should require another room for the trunks alone.”

Elizabeth abandoned the stockings and joined her sister on the carpet. Jane’s ring caught the morning light again, and Elizabeth touched it with one finger.

“Have you grown accustomed to it?”

“To the ring?”

“To being engaged to a vampire.”

Jane’s hands smoothed the linen. During the three weeks since Netherfield’s ball, she had spoken of Mr Bingley’s revelation only in fragments, never concealing her decision but protecting the private difficulty of reaching it. Her happiness had returned, quiet and unmistakable, yet it now carried knowledge which had not existed when she first smiled at him at the Meryton assembly.

“I have grown accustomed to being engaged to Mr Bingley.” Jane resumed folding the chemise, although she took greater care than the garment required. “The other part remains less familiar.”

“Does it frighten you?”

“Yes.”

The simple admission unsettled Elizabeth. Jane rarely denied fear, but she had always softened it to spare others.

“The first night after he told me, I could not sleep.” Jane placed the folded linen inside the correct trunk and sat back. “I remembered every hour at Netherfield. He worried for me while I was ill. I slept while he was in the same house, and all that time he knew the scent of my blood.”

Elizabeth closed her hand over Jane’s. “He would rather have destroyed himself than harmed you.”

“I know that now. He told me precisely what he had felt, though I do not think Mr Darcy wished him to be so precise.” Jane’s mouth softened. “Mr Bingley considered accuracy essential to my consent. He described his hunger, his control, and the number of times he left to chase venison in the park because remaining near me had become difficult. Then he offered to leave Hertfordshire before I could respond.”

“That sounds like him. His principal solution to causing distress is to remove himself and suffer alone elsewhere.”

“He had already instructed his servants to begin packing.”

“Of course he had,” Elizabeth said, smiling affectionately.

“I persuaded him to unpack before accepting his proposal. It seemed unreasonable to become engaged while his shirts were ready to travel.”

Elizabeth rested her shoulder against the bed. “And the question of conversion?”

Jane turned the sapphire ring around her finger. “He will never raise it. That was his promise.”

“But you may?”

“If I choose to do so. I must express the wish twice, at least one month apart, and you and Papa must witness both occasions.”