Darcy answered with an energy of his own, propelling Wickham across the room, slamming the devil against the far wall.
The air filled with the smell of decay and death. Thus assured that Elizabeth’s fear would not quickly dissolve,Wickham purposefully righted himself and then dusted off his sleeves before making his next move. Elizabeth watched in horror as Darcy staggered to his feet, preparing for a new offensive. Elizabeth edged to the left, but a raised hand from both Darcy and Wickham stayed her movement. With a flair she could not have expected,Wickham snapped his fingers, and three pale figures appeared in various doorways. One of them looked vaguely like the woman from the alley. Elizabeth felt her body contract in response. Is not Mrs.Younge dead? Then she realized, They are all dead! How does one kill something already dead?
Before she could reason how that might be, everyone seemed to move at once. Elizabeth saw Darcy knocked to the floor as the three ghostly figures swarmed over him. Like wounded animals mad with rage and blood lust, she heard his cries and the sound of tearing flesh; yet she had her own problems. As Wickham advanced towards her, Elizabeth grabbed the nearest thing—the broken umbrella stand. Flipping it over, she heaved it at him, hoping to retard his progress. She had no time to assess the appalling futility of
“Elizabeth!” Darcy shook her shoulder lightly. “It is all right; I am here. I will not leave you.” He moved the hair draped across her face.“It was only a dream, Sweetheart.”
Elizabeth’s heart raced as if still in the middle of a life-or-death fight, and her breath came in short, ragged bursts, but the reality of what he had said sank in, and she clung to him for reassurance. “I thought you were dying,” she whispered close to his ear.
Darcy caressed her cheek and clutched Elizabeth to his chest. “I will die of old age, my love.We will spend many years together.” He kissed the top of her head.“You dreamed of Wickham, did you not?”
“We went to Mrs. Younge’s house, and Wickham was there.” She still whispered, afraid to voice her fears aloud—afraid of making them real. “Mrs.Younge and two of Wickham’s followers attacked you. I saw it all.” Again, Elizabeth shivered with the image of Darcy’s bloody countenance.
A light tap at the door interrupted her words. Elizabeth sank back against the pillows.“I will see who it is,” Darcy assured her.“I shall be right back.” Elizabeth gave a quick nod, but she, intuitively, clung to him for as long as possible.
Cracking the door only a little, Darcy peered out into the candlelight. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley both stood there, wrapped in robes.“Yes, what is it, Georgiana?”
“We heard someone scream.” Mrs. Annesley moved closer. “Is Mrs. Darcy well?”
“It was a nightmare,” he said, attempting to assuage their concerns. “It makes sense after what happened today.”
“Of course,” Georgiana said, and she started back to her room. “Tell Elizabeth I will see her in the morning.”
Darcy started to close the door, but Mrs. Annesley’s hand shot out to stop him. “Find out about what Mrs. Darcy dreams,” she said.“Her dreams bear moments of truth.”
“How can you be so sure?” Darcy implored her. “Have you seen something else?”
“No, Mr. Darcy, I have not; but Mrs. Darcy has.”
“I do not understand. Does Elizabeth have the Sight also?”
The old woman paused for a long moment before answering. As if in a trance, she said,“Not in the traditional sense.Your wife is not just your future; she has the ability to see the future. Look at her eyes. Nearly catlike at times, are they not?”
Darcy’s mind flashed to the many times he had considered the compelling effects of his wife’s eyes—how the depths of them amazed and enthralled him from the beginning. “Yes, they are, Mrs.Annesley.”
“Ask Mrs. Darcy to relate her recent dreams, especially ones of Mr.Wickham. Something in them is the key to this madness.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Annesley.” He watched as the elderly widow followed his sister back to the room they shared that evening.As he turned back to find Elizabeth curled up in their shared bed, he thought about what his sister’s companion claimed.Years of dealing with the unknown told him to listen to his intuition and to pay attention to Mrs. Annesley’s advice. He would find out about Elizabeth’s dreams and prepare himself for his future.
CHAPTER 16
The door to the Edward Street address stood ajar, and they slipped in unnoticed. Darcy had hired a hack rather than taking his private coach, and he and Elizabeth had dressed inconspicuously to avoid being noticed by Mrs.Younge’s neighbors. No one seemed to be about in the house. Elizabeth called out to servants, but none responded as they made their way from room to room.
In her dream, Mrs. Younge’s décor had demonstrated the woman’s good taste, but, in reality, the furnishings were shabby.The cushions showed threadbare sections, but the place was clean. No dust rested on the cheap figurines nor were there spots on the carpeting. Looking at the economy with which the woman lived made Elizabeth pity the late Mrs. Younge. The woman’s descent into hell had started with Wickham’s seduction.
“Someone is in the kitchen,” Darcy whispered into her hair. “Let us see who.”
He pushed open the door, and the smell of porridge filled the air. An old woman with white hair stood with her back to them, fussing over the food preparation. Darcy cleared his throat to get her attention. She turned quickly and was surprised to see Darcy and Elizabeth occupying the doorway.“Oh, goodness gracious me.”The woman wiped her hands on her apron.“He’p you, Sir? Ma’am?”
“We are friends of Mrs.Younge. Might she be about?” Darcy tried to keep his tone amiable. He had no idea whether the woman was a vampire. He would take no chances with Elizabeth here. He moved to shield his wife from a possible attack. Elizabeth had shared part of her dream with him, and after Mrs.Annesley’s words of advice, Darcy knew not which “reality” to trust.
“Have yet to see her, Sir. Mrs. Younge come and go as she please. I hep out here couple days a week with cleanin’ and cookin’.”
“Are there guests in the house now?” Elizabeth ventured from off Darcy’s right shoulder.
“Mr. George left hours ago. He be it.”
Darcy shot a quick glance at Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye.“Mr. George?”
“He be an ole friend of ’Melia’s, too. My, Mr. George kin sleep—sleep for two days stright, he did.” She chuckled as she bent over and pulled two loaves of bread from the oven.“You be stayin’ tonight, Sir? Ma’am? I fix mighty fine soup.”
“We are considering it.” He took Elizabeth’s hand to edge her back through the door.“Would you mind if we looked around?”
The woman looked up suspiciously.“How be you know ’Melia?”
Elizabeth responded casually, “She and I worked together before she was governess for the Darcy family. I taught school for a year before I hooked up with my mister.”
“This be yer mister?”The old woman eyed Darcy appreciatively.
“Yes, he is.We just came to London to make our way. I thought Amelia might have a place we could afford until we got a nest egg of our own.” Elizabeth snuggled into Darcy’s arm in a possessive way.
“Well, seein’ as how you know ’Melia, I be supposin’ you could choose yer room of those empty ones.All be clean ’ceptin’ Mr. George’s.”
“We will not bother anything,” Elizabeth assured her, “just look around.”
“That be fine, Ma’am.” The woman turned back to her work.
Darcy and Elizabeth slipped from the room and headed towards the main staircase. “Does this resemble your dream?” Darcy wondered aloud as they ascended the hardwood steps.