Page 73 of The Lost Prophecy

Elizabeth held Mr Darcy’s gaze. “Do you?”

He did not offer a comfortable denial. “I want to become human. I have wanted it for longer than Longbourn has belonged to your family.”

The honesty struck deeper than reassurance. “Then he believes correctly.”

“No.” Mr Darcy crossed the narrow band of sunlight. The weak autumn light touched his shoes, and the skin over his cheekbone tightened as he passed through it, before he stopped several feet from her. “He believes I value my humanity more than yours. I do not.”

“You scarcely know me.”

“I know enough to refuse a bargain which would restore my life by condemning you to mine.”

The room seemed to recede from Elizabeth. Mr Darcy wanted what her blood could give him, and he had chosen not to ask. The knowledge should have increased her fear. Instead, it exposed a restraint more dangerous to her composure than hunger.

“Then what do you want from me?” she asked.

“Your help trapping Wickham at the ball.”

Elizabeth pivoted to face him fully, her eyes searching his. “You want me to serve as bait.”

“Yes.”

Mr Bingley turned from the fire. “Darcy.”

“She requires the truth.” He did not soften the word. “Wickham will come because he believes Miss Elizabeth offers him power over me. He will approach her, attempt to gain her trust, and eventually try to remove her from the ballroom. We can apprehend him when he acts.”

“You cannot condemn him for approaching me.”

“No. We require evidence of compulsion, unlawful feeding, attempted abduction, or an attack. He must commit an offence recognised under our law.”

“So I am to wait until he commits it against me.”

“You will never be alone with him. I shall remain near you, Hurst will control the doors and grounds, Bingley will remain near your sister, and Miss Bingley and Mrs Hurst will watch the ballroom and withdrawing rooms. Fletcher will place trusted servants throughout the house. Collins will remain close enough to interfere through sheer persistence.”

Charlotte’s mouth moved despite the danger. “But Mr Collins does not know that he has been included in a plan to trap a vampire!”

“He knows that Wickham is dangerous and that he must protect Miss Elizabeth,” Mr Hurst supplied. “Further knowledge might encourage him to acquire a sword. Or holy water.”

“What prevents Wickham from harming someone else?” Elizabeth asked. “There will be hundreds of people in this house, half the officers in the county, and six vampires loose among them.”

“Loose is an unkind description,” Mr Hurst objected. “Five of us are properly housed.”

Charlotte ignored him. “Can you guarantee that no guest will be compelled, bitten, or carried into the grounds while you wait for Mr Wickham to act?”

Mr Darcy turned to her. “No guest will be harmed, on my honour.”

Mr Bingley left the fire. “I give you mine as well. Miss Bennet, her family, and every guest who enters this house will be protected.”

Mr Hurst inclined his head. “Wickham will not pass through a door I control, and he will not feed here.”

Mrs Hurst rose from the sofa, her pale figure appearing too delicate for the promise in her voice. “Do not mistake the appearance of the women of our kind for frailty. If Wickham approaches the ladies’ rooms or attempts to harm a guest, I shall stop him.”

Miss Bingley joined her sister. “No one will be attacked in my ballroom.”

“Your brother’s ballroom,” Mr Hurst corrected.

“I arranged it. Ownership is a mere formality.”

Elizabeth surveyed the five of them. “You cannot watch everyone at once.”