Read Online Vampire Darcy's Desire by Regina Jeffers - Free Book Online
Authors: Regina Jeffers
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looking freshly scrubbed and ready for the day.“Miss Elizabeth,” he said and bowed to her.“I hope the morning brings your sister better health.”
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said as she laid her fork on her plate.“I believe it does.”
He moved to the side bar to pour himself some tea. He carried the cup back to the table and took up the place across from her. Darcy tried to ignore the jolt of desire in his groin and his preoccupation with the point on her neck where Elizabeth’s pulse throbbed visibly beneath the skin. To compensate, he addressed his friend.“What say you, Charles? What are your plans for the day?”
Bingley fidgeted in his seat, but his voice did not waver.“Darcy, if you do not mind, I would like to stay close to the house. Mr. Jones is to call to administer to Miss Bennet. I wish to assure myself of her recovery.”
“Of course, Bingley.” Then, with an unanticipated pleasure, Darcy turned his eyes back to Elizabeth. “It seems, Miss Elizabeth, my friend releases me from my obligation. If you are of the persuasion, I could give you that riding lesson after all.”
She went very still, and Darcy watched as shock played across her face, but Elizabeth recovered quickly. “Mr. Darcy, I could not intrude on your time,” she began to protest.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley jumped into the conversation,“if you want to learn from the best, Mr. Darcy is your man. I watched him teach Miss Darcy, and she is a superb horsewoman. It is an excellent
idea, Darcy. Which horse do you suppose best fits Miss Elizabeth? Ceres, perhaps?”
“Out of your current choices, Ceres is a good one—gentle but a spark of adventurousness .” He looked at Elizabeth to see if she picked up on his words. “If I were at Pemberley, I would choose a gelding—maybe Apollo—but we will make do with what we have.”
“Mr. Darcy,” her protest returned,“I have no riding habit.”
Darcy smiled as he moved to the sideboard to fill a plate. His eyes told her to follow him.“We will send to Longbourn for it,” he said matter-of-factly.
Bingley turned his attention to the entrance of his brother-in-law Wayne Hurst. Elizabeth stepped next to Darcy, standing closer than propriety allowed. “Mr. Darcy, I have no riding habit,” she hissed under her breath.
Her breast touched his upper arm, and Darcy shrugged his shoulders to rub against her. His flirtation was out of control, but Darcy never experienced such freedom—never allowed himself to be reminded of what his life could be. He turned his head and spoke to her hair:“You do now, Miss Elizabeth. It will be here by two.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she avowed,“I cannot accept gifts from you.”
“Another scandalous proposition,” he whispered as he placed a bun on her plate. “Would you like chocolate, Miss Elizabeth?” he said, loud enough for the others to hear.
Elizabeth glared at him. “I do not think so, Mr. Darcy,” she said meaningfully.
Darcy leaned across her to choose a hard-boiled egg because it put him even closer to her. “What would Bingley say if he knew what happened last night?”
“Mr. Darcy, I do not like being blackmailed,” she said huskily.
“I will not blackmail you, Miss Elizabeth. I just want to spend time with you.” His voice pleaded for acquiescence. She stared at him—held his gaze with the most luminous eyes he ever beheld—before nodding her assent.“Thank you,” he mouthed as he turned back to the table. When he left her the previous evening, he sent one of his footmen to London with specific instructions for
Madame Lucinda, a renowned modiste, for a plainly cut riding habit in a dark green or gray. Darcy did not want anything ostentatious because it would not be his Elizabeth . He could not imagine how he reached this point, but surprisingly, he enjoyed it. He felt more alive than he ever had. For some reason, Elizabeth Bennet made him stronger.
He sent a note he would meet her at the stable at three.
“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she said as she laid her fork on her plate.“I believe it does.”
He moved to the side bar to pour himself some tea. He carried the cup back to the table and took up the place across from her. Darcy tried to ignore the jolt of desire in his groin and his preoccupation with the point on her neck where Elizabeth’s pulse throbbed visibly beneath the skin. To compensate, he addressed his friend.“What say you, Charles? What are your plans for the day?”
Bingley fidgeted in his seat, but his voice did not waver.“Darcy, if you do not mind, I would like to stay close to the house. Mr. Jones is to call to administer to Miss Bennet. I wish to assure myself of her recovery.”
“Of course, Bingley.” Then, with an unanticipated pleasure, Darcy turned his eyes back to Elizabeth. “It seems, Miss Elizabeth, my friend releases me from my obligation. If you are of the persuasion, I could give you that riding lesson after all.”
She went very still, and Darcy watched as shock played across her face, but Elizabeth recovered quickly. “Mr. Darcy, I could not intrude on your time,” she began to protest.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Bingley jumped into the conversation,“if you want to learn from the best, Mr. Darcy is your man. I watched him teach Miss Darcy, and she is a superb horsewoman. It is an excellent
idea, Darcy. Which horse do you suppose best fits Miss Elizabeth? Ceres, perhaps?”
“Out of your current choices, Ceres is a good one—gentle but a spark of adventurousness .” He looked at Elizabeth to see if she picked up on his words. “If I were at Pemberley, I would choose a gelding—maybe Apollo—but we will make do with what we have.”
“Mr. Darcy,” her protest returned,“I have no riding habit.”
Darcy smiled as he moved to the sideboard to fill a plate. His eyes told her to follow him.“We will send to Longbourn for it,” he said matter-of-factly.
Bingley turned his attention to the entrance of his brother-in-law Wayne Hurst. Elizabeth stepped next to Darcy, standing closer than propriety allowed. “Mr. Darcy, I have no riding habit,” she hissed under her breath.
Her breast touched his upper arm, and Darcy shrugged his shoulders to rub against her. His flirtation was out of control, but Darcy never experienced such freedom—never allowed himself to be reminded of what his life could be. He turned his head and spoke to her hair:“You do now, Miss Elizabeth. It will be here by two.”
“Mr. Darcy,” she avowed,“I cannot accept gifts from you.”
“Another scandalous proposition,” he whispered as he placed a bun on her plate. “Would you like chocolate, Miss Elizabeth?” he said, loud enough for the others to hear.
Elizabeth glared at him. “I do not think so, Mr. Darcy,” she said meaningfully.
Darcy leaned across her to choose a hard-boiled egg because it put him even closer to her. “What would Bingley say if he knew what happened last night?”
“Mr. Darcy, I do not like being blackmailed,” she said huskily.
“I will not blackmail you, Miss Elizabeth. I just want to spend time with you.” His voice pleaded for acquiescence. She stared at him—held his gaze with the most luminous eyes he ever beheld—before nodding her assent.“Thank you,” he mouthed as he turned back to the table. When he left her the previous evening, he sent one of his footmen to London with specific instructions for
Madame Lucinda, a renowned modiste, for a plainly cut riding habit in a dark green or gray. Darcy did not want anything ostentatious because it would not be his Elizabeth . He could not imagine how he reached this point, but surprisingly, he enjoyed it. He felt more alive than he ever had. For some reason, Elizabeth Bennet made him stronger.
He sent a note he would meet her at the stable at three.
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