Page 86 of The Lost Prophecy

Chapter Thirteen: A Ball of Excellent Execution Part II

MR WICKHAM CALMLY CLOSED the study door.

Elizabeth faced him. “What did you do?”

“I removed an inconvenience.”

“You compelled him.”

“He will remember an urgent desire to return to Longbourn,” he said with a shrug. “By the time anyone notices his absence, our conversation will be finished.”

“You claimed you wished to protect my freedom.”

“I wish to protect it from Darcy. Your cousin’s freedom is of no consequence.”

The charm was absent now that he believed them alone. He walked to the fireplace, the flames sharpening the angles of his face while leaving no warmth in his skin.

“You are the True Blood.”

Elizabeth did not answer.

Fear wanted her heart, and she declined to surrender it. She breathed as though the room contained nothing more alarming than a long sermon, measuring each breath against the music beyond the wall. Let Mr Darcy hear a woman conducting a disagreement, nothing more.

“The instant I touched you, I recognised it.” He flexed the fingers which had held her hand at Mrs Philips’s. “There are vampires who have searched for you for years, and you were walking through Meryton accompanied by three foolish girls and a clergyman.”

“One of the foolish girls appears to have been me.”

“No. You have many qualities, Miss Elizabeth, but foolishness is not among them. That is why Darcy fears what I might tell you.”

“He told me what my blood can do.”

“His version of it.” He approached the chair nearest her but did not sit. “Give your blood willingly to a master vampire and he becomes human. You become master in his place, immortal, and subject to no authority but your own.”

“Darcy explained the exchange.”

“Did he describe the power? You could command every vampire in England. You could never age, never sicken, and never depend on a husband’s wealth, or a father’s estate. Your family will lose Longbourn to that creature carrying the stick, yet one act of consent would place you beyond every inheritance law written by men.”

Elizabeth kept her distance from him. “Your concern for the legal position of women is touching.”

“I understand what it is to have nothing while another man controls everything.”

“You also understand how to improve your position by deceiving a young woman.”

Mr Wickham’s face became still.

“So far, all you have told me means immense power for me,” she continued before caution could restrain her. “It is very interesting, but not as interesting as what Mr Darcy told me about Georgiana.”

The name stripped away the last of his performance.

“What did he tell you?”

“Can you not imagine, Mr Wickham?”

“He has discussed his sister with you,” he said, surprise written in his features.

“He discussed what you did to her.”

For the first time, he appeared less angry than wounded. Darcy had trusted Elizabeth with a history Mr Wickham considered his private weapon, and the confidence disturbed him.