Chapter Thirteen #3
“Assuredly. What did you have in mind?”
“New riding boots.” Elizabeth sparkled with excitement. “Do you not think it an excellent idea, Georgiana?”
The girl glowed with delight. “Yes, I do. And I could purchase a new riding crop. It is a perfect idea, and Darcy’s boot maker has a shop the next street over. Let us hurry before my brother returns.”
The boot maker assured them he would have the new boots and riding crop finished before the festive days.
He would deliver them to Pemberley well before Christmas.
Next, they found gifts for the Gardiners’ children and Elizabeth’s family.
Georgiana assisted in locating the newest piano music for Mary, a stylish bonnet for Kitty, and a shawl for Jane.
For Lydia, white lace gloves seemed appropriate, and a lace fichu was perfect for her mother.
Only her father remained on Elizabeth’s list. “Could we return to the bookstore I patronized previously? If I am correct, it is just down this street and to the left.”
“I could purchase a book for Lord Matlock,” Georgiana reasoned.
They hurried along the street, knowing time was short before they met Darcy. When they entered, the bell tinkled, and the same clerk hustled in from the back room.
“Yes, ladies,” the man said, “may I be of service?” He took note of Elizabeth. “Ah, my lady, did you return for another book of poetry?”
“You remembered, Sir?”
The old man bowed respectfully, but his tone held humor. “I have an eye for a fine book or a fine lady.”
Elizabeth blushed. “I am Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy of Darcy House.” It was the first time she said those words. “My husband’s sister and I wish to make several purchases. You will send the bill to Mr. Darcy’s attention.”
It was a statement rather than a question, and the man nodded. “I knew you to be a fine lady from the first moment I saw you. I am Mr. Thompson.”
“I assume that means you will honor my request,” Elizabeth responded good-humoredly.
“Naturally, Mrs. Darcy. May I show you something, or would you prefer to browse?”
“I would like a piece on Nelson and the British navy,” Georgiana declared.
“Certainly, Miss Darcy. Follow me.”
The man led the way through the narrow aisles. Georgiana whispered to Elizabeth, “My uncle loves to harass my cousin, the colonel, with the victories of the navy. It makes for good dinner banter.”
“Oh, this is the section where I found books on spiritualism,” Elizabeth observed aloud. The man removed three books for Georgiana’s perusal, ignoring Elizabeth’s comment.
Her new sister rejected two right away as being ones his lordship owned. She retained the last one as a possibility, but she asked to see others.
As if they held a great power, Elizabeth turned to the books directly over her right shoulder.
One title seemed most compelling. Vampire Burials called to her.
She pulled it from the shelf to page through it.
She silently read, “A corpse swells with gas, making the body appear to be full of blood. Believers in vampirism often stake the decomposing body, releasing the blood left in the corpse. The escaping air makes a sound often associated with a groan, causing believers to assume the vampire is still alive.”
“Obviously, the author of this book never met a real vampire,” she mumbled.
Unimpressed, she carefully returned the book to its place.
Next, she selected Tales of the Vampire, containing the poem “Der Vampir” by Heinrich August Ossenfelder and Goethe’s ballad “Die Braut von Korinth.” Elizabeth slipped that book under her arm.
Now on a mission, she selected others. She removed one on pagan worship of the upyri, adding it to her growing stack.
Vampires: Folklore and Myth became her next choice because it included a chapter on how to prevent the corpse from turning into an undead revenant.
Maybe something other than removing the head, she thought.
Having made her selection, Georgiana rejoined her. “Elizabeth, what are you doing?” Georgiana hissed, seeing the subject of her choices.
Elizabeth eyeballed the seller, who was close by. “If you would choose a book of poems by Sir Walter Scott, I will bring our other choices to the counter.”
“Certainly, Mrs. Darcy.” The man disappeared into the store’s depths.
When he was from earshot, Elizabeth took Georgiana by the arm.
“I need to know more of this situation with your brother. This may sound eccentric, but I believe we must confront Mr. Wickham, not wait for him to come to us. However, we know little about vampires. For example, how does this iron crucifix work? When Wickham kidnapped me, I wore this cross. It slowed his efforts, but it did not drive him away. Why? These books are filled perhaps with facts, perhaps with myths and legends. We should learn which is which. When we arrive at Pemberley, I plan to compile all the specifics we know of Wickham. Maybe from the compilation and from these books, we will possess a better idea of how to rid ourselves of the curse.”