He made sure the garlands arrived in the afternoon. Darcy knew Elizabeth would anxiously open the packages, and she would know disappointment when she found no necklace. He promised to send it, but when the time came, he withdrew, afraid someone else might see it. He could not put Elizabeth in such a position.

Instead, he took it to her himself. Darcy sent the same trusted footman to the nearest township to find a competent jeweler and mercantile. He removed the crucifix he wore and gave it to the man with orders for the jeweler to duplicate it, creating a replacement for Darcy. Then he ordered an array of loose diamonds and emeralds set into the metal of the one he already owned. He would risk being without one for a few days to protect Elizabeth. The footman paid the merchant well to complete the work on the one

In the middle of the night, he paid her a visit. He did not wake Elizabeth, although his desire to kiss her ruled his body. He stood in the center of the room, staring down at her.When she rolled over and snuggled into a pillow, he smiled with remembrances of her wrapping her arms and legs around his.“You are beautiful,Vixen,” he murmured. “Now, let us see if this works.” He set the package holding the cloak and the necklace on the end of her bed, and then Darcy turned slowly in place three times, extending his arms level to his shoulders. “Forget…remember…forget…remember…forget…remember,” he chanted as an aura of blue light spread through the room, like fingers caressing every corner. “Forget the old.”The light continued to surge through the walls, filling each of the rooms in succession.“Remember the new.” The light turned in on itself and rolled back towards him, having touched all in the sleeping Bennet household. “Forget the old. Remember the new,” he repeated once more, turning counterclockwise to pull in his power. Like the swooshing crack of a whip, the energy balled itself into the pit of his stomach and disappeared within him. Darcy sank to his knees in exhaustion.

He remained slumped over for several minutes, devoid of feeling. Then he pushed himself to a standing position, although he held onto the bedpost for support.At last, he moved beside the bed to take in her image before he left. She had captured his eye—his imagination—from the beginning. Despite her tenacious spirit, her innocence moved him; oh, to be the man who won her heart! Elizabeth created in him a need to protect and shelter her, but also a desire to possess her completely. Under other circumstances, she would be his destiny—his wife. “Wear the gifts with pleasure, Vixen,” he murmured and then touched her auburn tresses before leaving her to the end of a dream.

Returning to Netherfield, he sat in his room for hours, staring into the fire, finishing off more than one glass of brandy. Since he had met Elizabeth Bennet, he had engaged in unseemly behavior,

His use of his supernatural abilities surprised even himself. Wickham had used such powers against Georgiana—enchanting her—making her know nothing but what the cad desired. Until recently, Darcy had considered his powers part of the evil he fought in himself every day. Then he had reconsidered that position. But the truth was that he had used the same powers Wickham had to control his victims.With a twisted grin, Darcy now wondered, How different am I from George Wickham?

Elizabeth woke to find the package at the end of her bed. He was here! In her sleep, she felt him in the room, watching over her. Fascinated, she sat up in bed and took the box upon her lap. She let her fingers caress the ribbon, imagining his tying it off, knowing no other hands had touched it but his. She brought her fingertips to her lips and sensed his kiss lightly on her mouth.

Then, very slowly, savoring each moment, Elizabeth untied the knot and peeled the ribbon back from the package. She would keep it in the drawer next to his handkerchief. Unfolding the paper, she gasped upon seeing the cloak. It was a deep forest green; she had never saw seen anything so fine. She stood up on the mattress, bouncing a bit in happiness as she swept it from the wrapping and draped it around her. For warmth, white rabbit fur trimmed the hood and cuffs. Elizabeth ran her fingers over it, enjoying the softness.

Immediately, she dropped to her knees on the bed, still wrapped in the cloak. She fished into the bottom of the layers of paper and found a jeweler’s box, along with a note. She unwrapped the small box slowly; she knew what it contained.The jeweler’s box cracked

She undid the chain and hooked it around her neck.The cool metal burned against her skin. She kissed the back of it and let it drop; it nestled between the rise of her breasts.The jewels disguised the base iron of the design, but Elizabeth knew Darcy sent it as protection from Wickham. The night she and Darcy discussed the curse, he told her the legend behind the Baobhan Síth—how they killed a group of men but one man escaped because he hid between the horses—the iron horseshoes protected him from their vampire attack. Elizabeth felt safer just putting it on—an amulet to protect her.

Finally, she unfolded the note and read—her fingertips followed along as if the letters rose up and touched her:

Vixen,

You would tempt a sane man with your beauty, and considering what I am doing is far from sane, I admit to being enthralled by the mere thought of you. If you knew what great joy I felt in being with you, you would blush.

I used a special power to protect you from censure upon accepting these gifts. No one will remember what you owned before.You may wear the cloak and the necklace without fear.As far as your family knows, they were in your possession for years.The riding habit will be seen the same way.

How I wish I could see your face right now—see the luminousness of your eyes and be lost in the depths of them. How I wish I could kiss your lips and give myself up to the world we create when we are together!

The memory of you will stay with me forever.

F. D.

Elizabeth refolded the note.Without thinking, she brought it to her face and inhaled. It smelled of him—of sandalwood and maleness.

CHAPTER 8

“Lizzy, I cannot wait for the ball this evening. Just three short hours away, Sister! It will be so glorious to dance at Netherfield. Do you not think so?” Kitty twirled around the room, holding her dress to her as she did.

Elizabeth looked forward to the evening, for she would see Darcy again, but she dreaded it also, for after tonight, he would be gone from Hertfordshire—and from her life. How would she bear it? “It is to be hoped that Mr. Bingley continues his preference for our dear Jane, and that you and Lydia have numerous partners to satisfy your tastes,” Elizabeth said sadly.

“And what of you, Lizzy? Do you want a special dance partner to sweep you off your feet?” Elizabeth immediately thought of Darcy, but she forced images of waltzing with him away.“Maybe Mr.Wickham has returned from London. Do you wish him as a partner?” Kitty collapsed in a heap of silken material at Elizabeth’s feet.

“I assure you, Kitty, I have no desire to dance with Mr.Wickham,” Elizabeth asserted while busying herself with cleaning her shoes.

Kitty looked about nervously, as if fearing someone might overhear. “I am pleased to hear it, Lizzy. Aunt Philips says he paid his attentions to Miss King on the evening of your attack and then again two days later, right before he left for London, at Colonel Forster’s evening of cards. I suppose it has to do with her recent inheritance.”

“Let us trust Miss King’s dowry is safe from Mr. Wickham.” Elizabeth hoped Miss King was safe—period; she would tell Darcy this evening of Wickham’s interest in the girl. He would know what to do about it.

Standing in the receiving line, Elizabeth made eye contact with Darcy, who stood next to Wayne Hurst. Darcy’s eyes lit up, him. Without preamble, she dropped to a deep curtsy, allowing him a peek at the swell of her breasts and his gift resting between them.“Mr. Darcy,” she purred.

“Miss Elizabeth.” He bowed over her hand and brought it to his lips. Her eyes flashed with a need he recognized. “I am sure Mr. Bingley is pleased your family is here. May I inquire as to your continued recovery?”

“It is steady, Mr. Darcy. Of late, I feel safer.Thank you once again for your gallantry.” She could say no more because the line formed behind her, so Elizabeth made a quick curtsy and followed Jane into the main parlor.

Darcy, unwillingly, followed her with his eyes. Elizabeth Bennet set his heart pounding in his chest. Her tempting way of displaying the jeweled crucifix he had given her shot straight to his groin. If she held any idea of his desire—his dreams of her—she would never speak to him again. Drawing a steadying breath to release the tension, Darcy stopped the images that were creeping into his mind. If he were normal, he would apply to her immediately and satisfy himself in her body. But he would never know such pleasure; and to continue their entanglement would not be fair to Elizabeth. He had already involved her enough in this quagmire. Tomorrow, he would return to Pemberley, leaving Elizabeth behind to find a husband and to have children of her own—children not cursed by a Scottish vampire two hundred years old.

As the number of party-goers in the receiving line dwindled to a trickle, Darcy excused himself.“I will check the service, Charles. Mr. Hurst is headed towards the game room.” Charles Bingley nodded his agreement.

Caroline Bingley reminded him of her earlier request: “You will keep your promise and stand up with me for the first set, Mr. Darcy?”

“Of course, Miss Bingley. I shall not be long.” He made a polite bow before heading towards the service entrance. Darcy intended to stay out of sight as much as possible this evening. He would stay on the periphery and watch for Wickham’s appearance. Although unsure Wickham would come, Darcy intended to take no chances. If luck were on Darcy’s side, his enemy would remain in London.

It took only moments to check on the serving staff and the food presentations, but the task was a good excuse to be away from the crowd, where he could think. However, only one thought consumed him: his Elizabeth was in the house once again. He caught a glimpse of her talking to Charlotte Lucas in the drawing room; he stayed behind her as she made her way to the refreshment table for lemonade; he delighted in watching her provoke some of the military officers and then spin away from them. She captivated everyone with whom she came in touch—including him. Darcy swallowed hard, forcing the increasing hunger away.

Strains of a melody played by musicians tuning their instruments brought him out of his reverie. Dutifully, he found Caroline Bingley and escorted her onto the dance floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth accept Mr. Denny as a partner, and irrational jealousy coursed through him. She was his; her attentions belonged to him. When the music finally started, he counted the steps and the changes in partners until he came to her. He would have only two chances to speak to her during this form, and he would make the most of each.As he took Elizabeth’s hand in his for the first time, he gave a little tug to pull her closer, and then he murmured, “Vixen, I am happy to see you hold me close to your heart.”

She reddened with his boldness, but recovered quickly enough to challenge him. “Your eyes take liberties, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth heard his laughter as he moved on to the next woman in line.That woman and Caroline Bingley both probably thought he enjoyed their company. But he called no one Vixen except her.

As they wove their way towards each other for the second time, she prepared for his teasing, but this time all he did was lick his lips slowly, as if tasting her. Impulsively, she pursed hers in a pretend

Afterwards, he returned Caroline to her place of honor while keeping track of Elizabeth’s presence. Seeing her head towards the ladies’ retiring room, Darcy slipped out a side servant entrance, making his way to the upper floors.

When Elizabeth came through the dimly lit hallway, she thought of nothing but Darcy. Consumed with thoughts of him, when a hand clamped over her mouth to stifle her scream and another wrapped around her waist to pull her backwards, a heartbeat passed before she began to fight. Kicking his legs and biting the hand that smothered her, it took a few more heartbeats before she heard his voice next to her ear:“It is I,Vixen.”

Immediately, she relaxed into him and allowed Darcy to pull her into the nearest empty room. Inspecting his hand for puncture wounds, he growled, “I should have known you would put up a fight.”

“Oh, Fitzwilliam,” she said as she caressed his face. “I am sorry. Did I hurt you?”

She leaned against the door, and Darcy pinned her between his arms, fencing her in. Wolflike, he leaned down to speak to her lips: “I might forgive you if you kissed me,” he taunted her.

Elizabeth slid her arms about his waist and intuitively massaged the firm muscles of his back. “I might forgive you for frightening me if you kissed me.”

Darcy grinned, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “You missed me,Vixen?” His warm breath caressed the side of her neck, lingering over the spot he most desired.

“No more than you missed me,” she said and giggled as she stroked his chin line.

“Then you have had a powerful void in your soul.”The depth of his admission made her shiver, and Elizabeth moved in closer to feel his warmth. His head lowered, and Darcy dissolved into her. Nothing else mattered at this moment except holding Elizabeth to

When they parted, Elizabeth rested her head on his chest, breathing as heavily as he did. “Fitzwilliam, I do not want you to leave,” she whispered.

“I must, Sweetling. It is the only way to protect you. I can offer you nothing, Elizabeth—nothing but darkness. If things were different.…

Elizabeth balled her hands into fists as she stepped away in an act of defiance. “If things were different, you would be married to some lady of the ton by now, but you and I both know she would be your wife in name only.You would take her to your bed to produce the required heir.Yet you cannot tell me you want that kind of life, Fitzwilliam, any more than you want the kind of life you have now. I do not believe you dream of nothing more than that.”

“I dream of you, Elizabeth. Are you satisfied? I dream of you every night. I will always dream of you.” He turned away from her in defeat.

“Fitzwilliam,” her voice came softly behind him. He heard the tears in her words. “I will not mention it again. I know you must go; you must do the responsible thing. I will stay here.You can fight better without me.”

“Nothing is right without you, Elizabeth.” His words soothed the hurt she felt knowing he would do what he said—he would leave her behind.

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