Mr. Darcy, Vampyre - By Amanda Grange Page 0,27

our marriage, but I never thought she would pursue us on our wedding tour. Why did she do it? And why did she say all those terrible things?’

‘Lady Catherine is old,’ he said by way of explanation.

‘Not so old that she doesn’t know how to behave, and not so old that age excuses her for behaving in such a manner,’ said Elizabeth.

‘Things are not so simple,’ he said.

‘They seem simple to me,’ she said.

He looked at her with a wistful smile.

‘You’re very young,’ he said.

‘I am only seven years younger than you.’

His eyes held hers for long moments, then he said, ‘You break my heart.’

He sounded so sad that Elizabeth felt a catch in her throat and she reached out her hand to him, but he had already turned away, and a moment later, he was out in the corridor, issuing instructions to his valet.

Elizabeth felt low in spirits. Lady Catherine’s tirade had unsettled her and Darcy’s strange demeanour had unsettled her even more, so that she longed for someone to talk to. A cheerful conversation about ordinary things was just what she needed to dispel her gloom. She thought at once of Mrs Cedarbrook, knowing that a few minutes talking about Mr Cedarbrook and his botany would soon put a smile on her face. She wrote a short note requesting Mrs Cedarbrook’s comp

any, and when Annie returned with her drink, Elizabeth asked her to take it.

‘I’m sorry, Ma’am, but they’ve left,’ said Annie. ‘They were off an hour since. Mr Cedarbrook wanted to get on with his plant collecting.’

Elizabeth was disappointed but there was nothing to be done about it, so she finished her drink and then started a letter to Jane.

My dearest Jane,

I wish you were here. How I long to talk to you. So much has happened that I scarcely know where to begin. We left Paris a few days ago and we are now in the Alps. Things are changing so rapidly that my head is starting to spin. First Dover, then the sea crossing, then Paris, and now the mountains—my dearest Jane, I woke up this morning and wondered where I was. But then I saw Darcy from the window, swimming in the lake, and things began to change. I went to join him and for the first time, married life started to be what I thought it would be. We were close, body, mind, and spirit, and I longed for him as he longed for me. Everything else was forgotten, until the moment was broken by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Can you believe it?

She followed us here. Are you plagued by Bingley’s relatives? Do they pursue you?

I am beginning to think we will never be free of Darcy’s family. Perhaps Lady Catherine was right. Perhaps their at titude does matter to me after all.

But no! What am I saying? How can it matter when I have Darcy? For a few short minutes in the lake we were so close, and if it happened once it can happen again. To be sure, he has retreated again, withdrawing into a cold world and gone where I cannot follow, and yet it cannot be for long. He wants me, I know he does, it is only his family and his concerns, perhaps, for my feelings—or what he thinks my feelings must be when everything is so new to me—that keep him aloof.

Writing to you is doing me good. I was despondent at the start of the letter but now things are wearing a rosier aspect. We are going further into the mountains to visit Darcy’s uncle, and there, perhaps, we may grow close again. Darcy respects his uncle and wants to seek his advice, about what I am not quite sure. I only hope it sets his mind at rest and leaves him free to follow his heart which I know, Jane, leads to me.

I must go now, but I will write to you again when we reach the castle. For the moment, adieu.

She sanded the letter then put it away in her writing desk to be finished later.

Annie, in the meantime, had been packing her things. ‘Master’s orders are that we’ll be moving on as soon as we’re ready,’ she said.

‘Yes,’ said Elizabeth. ‘He wants us to reach the castle before dark.’

She dressed in warmer clothes than previously, for she was still cold. She chose a dress with long sleeves and she wore a long pelisse instead of her shorter coat. She dismissed a bonnet which perched

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