Chapter Nine
HE DID NOT come to her every night, though she would have welcomed him if he had.
It was not even every other night, but it was easily every third night, and he came two nights in a row before the Netherfield Ball.
They always did the same thing. He came to her window and she went out to meet him and they walked in the darkness of the gardens around her house, and they kissed and then he drank from her, and then he sent her back to bed.
Their conversations were increasingly similar, also.
She pointed out the bond wasn’t fading. He had noticed.
She wondered what this meant for their future, especially now that she was becoming more and more used to his visits and his attentions.
She still craved him, and the craving was more intense.
She told him that she thought he had ruined her for anything else. “How could I manage a romance with a mortal man who does not wish to taste me the way you do?” she said.
“You could manage it,” he said. “You must manage it. I shall not dally with you forever. At some point, I shall set you free.”
She told him she did not think she could ever be free from him.
But then sometimes, she remembered that this was the way of it with stories about these sorts of fiends, the kinds that were enticing.
She had been tugged into it, and she might, even now, be begging him for her own demise.
Perhaps he was only killing her slowly, sucking away a bit of her at a time, and perhaps he was lying to her about everything.
She thought of what Mr. Wickham had said, and she knew it was foolish to believe the word of something monstrous.
On the other hand, there was Mr. Hurst, wasn’t there? It seemed they could keep a human with them, alive, for some time.
At the Netherfield Ball, more than one person commented she looked wan and a bit pale.
She wondered if this was the first sign that Mr. Darcy was sucking all of her life away.
Even if not, perhaps he was drinking too much from her.
Maybe that was the reason he did not come to her every night, because he was trying not to make her too weak.
She had expected Mr. Wickham to be there.
All of the other officers were there, after all.
Everyone in the nearby social circle was there.
But Mr. Wickham had not come, and she had not seen him since.
She wished to ask him about the accusations that Mr. Darcy had leveled at him, and she wished to see his reaction.
That was, apparently, not to be that evening.
She only danced with Mr. Darcy once at the ball. He said that they must be careful, for he did not wish to lose control in public. So, she spent most of the evening simply staring at him from across the room.
She saw Caroline a few times, but the other woman never even met Elizabeth’s gaze, and Elizabeth was not sure what to make of that, or of the possible threat of the woman, the fact she had attempted to harm Elizabeth in the past.
Mr. Darcy came to her that night, after the ball, and he was agitated as they walked.
“We have all decided to leave,” he told her.
“Leave?” She stopped short, gaping at him. “Whatever do you mean? Leave and go where?”
“To London.” He was still walking. “I feel as if I must go, for I am keeping my eye on Caroline, you see, and she should not be left to her own devices. It is not only about you at this point. I am worried that she may have very little scruples. She may be doing very awful things, you see. She seemed to have no qualms about killing you. There are vampires who kill, after all. We don’t need to, but some vampires enjoy being cruel and merciless. ”
Elizabeth thought that was noble, she supposed, but she also thought that he wished to be near her. “You won’t miss me?”
“Terribly,” said Mr. Darcy.
She ran to catch up with him. “Don’t leave, then.”
“I have told you, Elizabeth, I would set you free.”
“But how can I be free with this bond? You will go to London, and I shall still feel you. You will feel me. And then you’ll… you’ll bite someone else.” And she would feel that. She was too horrified to even think of such a thing happening.
“We have always known it would eventually be time for us to part,” he said. “I am doing this for your own good, you must see that.”
“No,” she said and she felt entirely as though she was going to burst into tears, “I do not see that, not at all.”
He reached down and entwined their fingers, squeezing her hand.
“Yes, I am sorry, for the bond means you can’t be charmed, you cannot be made to forget.
I know this is particularly painful for you.
You have never had any man pay you any mind before.
These were your first kisses, and I have quite turned your head.
It will be painful for you, but this is normal, you see, Elizabeth?
It is part of being human, your first heartbreak.
I am sorry that I was so inappropriate with you, of course.
I have touched you in all manner of ways I ought not have, but you are not truly compromised.
And I have not violated your maidenhead.
That is there for your husband. You will mourn, but you will forget me and move on the way all women do—”
“How?” she cried. “How when I shall feel you in the bond, sucking other women’s blood?”
“Elizabeth, it will not be that way. I have not felt anything romantic for any woman, human or vampire, for decades before you. It is likely there will be nothing for you to be jealous of, all right?”
She pulled her hand out of his.
“I, on the other hand, must experience you falling in love, which you will do,” he said, eyeing her sadly. “And soon, likely within the next year or two. You may not believe me, but you will forget me sooner than you think.”
She only shook her head.
“You have seen it, I think,” he said. “You have seen people heal from heartache.”
“Yes, but they were not bonded to the man who broke their hearts,” she said.
He sighed.
“Take me with you,” she said.
“I shall not do such a thing.”
“Please,” she said. “I cannot fathom never seeing you again.” Tears were streaming out of her eyes now, because she was begging him, because he was so set on it, because it was all madness.
“It does not please me either,” he said. “And I… I shall be quite jealous of the man who marries you, you know. It will be torment, feeling you in the bond with someone else.”
“Then don’t do it!” she cried.
“You are so very young, Elizabeth,” he said, shaking his head. “This thing with us is perverse. I cannot rob you of your very life.” He touched her face. “I have been at you too much as it is. You likely know that you are not as strong as you should be.”
“But Mr. Hurst,” said Elizabeth. “How often is his wife at him?”
“He gets weakened as well,” said Mr. Darcy. “It is a difficult path for a human with a vampire.”
“So, then… turn me.”
He shook his head.
She was sobbing at this point. “If you will not agree to take me with you, or to stay here with me, then I shan’t agree to let you taste me this last time.”
His expression went hungry.
“There,” she said. “You cannot bear to give me up either.”
“I…” He tugged her against him. “If I wish to taste you, Elizabeth, I shall, and you cannot stop me.”
She sagged against him, unable to protest, because it was true.
“But no, I won’t have it that way between us,” he breathed. “No, no, not by force.” He let go of her. “Very well. Goodbye, then, my sweet sirensong, my exquisite Elizabeth.”
She wavered, realizing she had denied herself one last time in his arms. She reached for him. “I take it back. You can do whatever you wish with me. You may drink as much as you want. Please.”
He shook his head one last time. His expression was pained as he leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I have loved you in my way,” he murmured into her skin. “I am sorry for the pain I have caused you.”
And then, he was gone.
She wandered in the garden for some time, and then she took off in the darkness and walked all the way to Netherfield, only to find that they were gone already, but she supposed that made sense because it wasn’t as if they could travel during the daylight, so, yes, they would have gone.
She went back home and crawled into bed just before the sun rose.
She had barely slept when she was roused in the morning, and she barely registered it when Mr. Collins asked if he could speak to her alone, acquiescing blankly.
Nothing mattered.
It was only after everyone else had cleared the room that she realized what it meant.
But she was numb.
He was odious. Mr. Collins was the last man in the world she wished to marry. However, she did not think it was likely she would ever get another offer of marriage. And she thought… she didn’t know… maybe it would pain Mr. Darcy to feel this through the bond, her surrendering her virtue to this.
Maybe it was all she had, some sick sense of revenge.
Or perhaps she was sleep deprived and brokenhearted and not thinking clearly.
But, whatever the case, she said yes.
She was engaged to be married to Mr. Collins.