The Transformation of Georgiana Darcy Page 14

  “Can you go anywhere you want?”

  Maris frowned and thought for a moment. “Now that you ask… No, I do seem to have some limitations. I cannot leave the grounds, nor can I seem to enter any bedchamber besides my old one. Strange…”

  Gareth chuckled, “Well that is a bit of a relief. It could be awkward for anyone to suddenly see you while taking a bath.”

  “Don’t be silly, I can control who sees me for the most part. I do look forward to meeting your Miss Darcy. Have you decided if you will marry her or not?”

  Gareth sighed. The vision of Georgiana Darcy was rarely far from his mind. He hoped that she would feel the same, perhaps if they spent more time together. He had no idea how she was progressing in her transformation. At least he had been born this way and had very experienced parents, but learning to control his need for blood had still been difficult, especially in his teen years. Tomorrow would not come soon enough.

  ~Twenty-one~

  A heavy fog had gathered while the Darcy’s slept and now, after breaking their fast with cold meats and biscuit, the carriage once again made its way along the road to Polwys. Just over the border to Wales, the landscape became more rugged, the fog only adding to the sense of wilderness. So slow was their progress that it was near evening when they arrived. A weak sun had managed to break through the thick pea soup and now its setting rays formed a halo around the fortress called Polwys Tor.

  Peering up at the visage before her, Georgiana fancied that it was the home to fairy folk, or possibly a lost isle of Avalon as the mist swirled about, obscuring the ground.

  “It is positively magical,” she whispered, as if it were taboo to voice her true thoughts.

  “Agreed, but it is probably filled with damp and drafty windows as well,” Anne said as she eagerly alighted from the carriage.

  It was wonderful to place ones feet on solid ground. It had felt as if weeks had been spent in transit instead of less than two days. An inner courtyard with an elaborately wrought gate barred further entry by carriage. The rest of the journey would be on foot. Just as they took stock of their belongings, the sound of booted feet crunching heavily on the gravel behind the portal alerted the travelers.

  “Greetings! Welcome to Polwys Tor and the forever balmy weather of North Wales,” rang the deep voice of their host, Gareth Devlin. In his wake, a number of servants, one dragging a small cart, were ready to assist the visitors. Gesturing to the Pemberley driver, a small man identified as Mr. Smidgens the groom, led the horses away through the fog.

  “Please forgive the unexpected fog, it does get rather thick sometimes. Smidgens will see to the horses and lodgings for your driver. The road actually circles the main house with regular openings in the wall for trade and such. However, as my honored guests, please follow me.”

  Leading the party into the mist, it was practically necessary to keep hold of one another to prevent becoming lost, but soon they arrived at the majestic double doors of the keep. Rising some fifteen feet in height, thick iron hasps and hinges gave credence to the medieval age of the structure. Peering closely, Georgiana could see ancient battle scars made by long ago weapons. However, once inside, all elements of the cold, damp and formidable exterior were gone. A short foyer opened into a grand central hall. Thick buttresses crisscrossed the lofty ceiling, broken by large windows set into the upper parts of the stone walls. A high gloss wood floor reflected the roaring fire now blazing in the chamber’s grandest feature. The fireplace was made of interlocking carved stones. Each piece carefully fitted to the next and depicting everything from pastoral to battle scenes. Seeing Darcy’s immediate interest, Gareth offered a short history.

  “The main hall and tower date from the ninth century, with the fireplace being added almost nearly two hundred years later. It is said that an ancestor, having gone blind, had the family history recreated in stone so he could feel what he could no longer read.”

  “That is both wonderful and sad at the same time,” said Georgiana as they warmed themselves with mulled cider before the fire.

  An assortment of deeply upholstered chairs and sofas circled the great hearth, making it a most comfortable space. It was here, that Gareth was able to more closely observe the changes in her person since they last were together. The alterations to her appearance were obvious, but not alarming to one not aware of the other concerns. To the addition of Anne de Bourgh to the house, he was the most gracious of hosts.

  “Any friend of Georgiana’s is always welcome here. In a way, we are distantly connected. The Darcy and Devlin families share a common ancestor.”

  Anne smiled and was about to return the compliment when the outer door was heard slamming shut, accompanied by an equally loud voice.

  “Gareth! Where the hell are you man?” rang the unwelcome shouts of Ewan Devlin as he strode into the hall.

  Stopping at the sight of the Darcy’s, Ewan bowed to the group and arched a brow in his cousin’s direction. “A party without inviting me? Truly cousin… I am hurt.” He stated with mock sincerity as his gaze washed over the younger ladies.

  Gareth’s breath slowly exhaled. This was not how he wanted things to go. Ewan would do everything in his power to be a nuisance, but he could not refuse him. After all, it was also his family home. After casting an apologetic look in the older Darcy’s direction, he extended his hospitality.

  “Ewan... don’t be silly, this is your home as much as mine,” he corrected and introduced Anne to Ewan.

  “Miss de Bourgh… a pleasure,” Ewan replied with a husky tone as he grazed his lips on the back of her hand.

  Anne did her best to demonstrate the manners of her upbringing, but it was difficult. Something about Ewan Devlin had made her take an instant dislike to him. The touch of his mouth on her flesh was reminiscent of the time she had been dared to hold a snake. Her skin crawled at the memory as a shiver went up her spine. Seeing her chill, Ewan offered to take them to their prepared chambers, promising a full tour of the house and grounds in the morning.

  “Dinner should be ready in about an hour or so. I cannot promise anything as grand as that served at Pemberley, but we do have a fine cook, well versed in a variety of tastes.”

  His eyes had gone directly to Georgiana as he said this, with a hope to have her realize that he was aware of her unique needs. However, she focused her own gaze on the floor. It was and awkward situation which he hoped to right as soon as possible. Deciding to not pursue her yet, he led the way above.

  Ewan Devlin, already situated with his regular accommodations at Polwys, chose not to follow. Instead, he remained below and watched the party make their way up the curved stone stair. Who was this Anne de Bourgh? Any acquaintance of the Darcy’s must be socially acceptable. Perhaps she would be the solution he needed to acquire Polwys legally. If not… well there were other means available, but he would eventually need a bride in either case. She was lovely. While he would hate to see her chestnut hair turn as white as his, it may be necessary to turn her first. Downing the remains of his cider, he sat facing the fire, booted feet propped up on a polished table, unmindful of the mud falling from his soles. With fingers propped together in thought, he planned his next move. A seduction was definitely in order, but until then he may as well get used to having the place, for it would be his… and soon.

  As Ewan pondered his plan for acquisition, he was not aware of the shadowy form looming above. Appearing to rest on a thick beam, Maris frowned down at her nephew. What a fool she had been to include him in her will, but it had to be done to preserve the family. If she had only known the means to which he would be willing to go. She could still feel the push of his hands sending her over the cliff path to her death. If only her spectral form could take such action. She had tried. Over the past few months she had spent hours attempting to move small objects. The best she could manage was a brief puff of wind, hardly enough to move a curtain. Whoever had made up stories of ghosts causing all sorts of noise and tossing large pieces of furniture w
as indeed mistaken. Gareth simply had to marry first, if only Georgiana was willing. After seeing the girl, she did indeed possess the family curse, but would that be enough? Not everyone married out of convenience. Some fools actually believed in love. Resolving to only interfere with good intentions, Maris’ form faded away. She needed to conserve her energy.

  ~Twenty-Two~

  Dinner the previous evening, had indeed satisfied the palate of all in attendance. Gareth had thoughtfully replaced Georgiana’s wine with a sweet blood mixture. Her surprise at the taste had sent a smile of pleasure in his direction as he nodded in return. Deciding to forgo coffee and port, the group consensus suggested an early night and meet for the promised tour in the morning. Now, as they gathered refreshed, Gareth offered each of his arms to Georgiana and Anne as they began with Lizzie and Darcy making up the rear. Of Ewan, there was thankfully no sign. Never an early riser, Gareth hoped his cousin would leave them with some hours of peace before intruding again.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I have taken the liberty of inviting a few local families for an informal dinner this Saturday. I should like to introduce them to my extended family. A small affair really, but they are all wanting to meet you.”

  “We would be delighted,” Lizzie answered for the group.

  Everyone else nodded in agreement, especially Anne. She did not want to be paired up with Ewan for the entire visit. After she and Georgiana retired for the evening, Anne had made her feelings known.

  “Something about him is simply not right. It is not his unusual condition. After meeting Gareth, and of course witnessing your challenges, I don’t feel that it is all that strange. A bit much to get used to so soon, but now, I don’t give it much thought. However, he seems so cold… as if he is somehow touched by evil. I know that sounds uncharitable, having just been introduced, but I would prefer to limit my time around him.”

  Georgiana’s response took Anne by surprise. So visible was Georgiana’s relief, the fine hairs on Anne’s neck stood up. Were her apprehensions valid?

  “Oh I am glad to hear that, he is not the charmer that he appears. Yes, he is just as handsome as Gareth, but he is also dangerous and not just when hungry.”

  Georgiana went on to relay the encounter between Kitty Bennet and Ewan Devlin. She had promised to keep it a secret, but fearing for Anne’s safety was paramount.

  “I became what you see, purely by chance… and as Gareth reminds me… out of kindness. To take another by force… well that is unpardonable.”

  Anne noticed the way a very becoming pink flush overtook Georgiana each time she mentioned Gareth. Was her cousin falling in love? Anne truly hoped so, they seemed a perfect match from the moment she saw them together. Perhaps all Georgiana needed was a bit of encouragement.

  Now, as they wound their way through the innumerable passages inside the main keep, Anne tried to think of a way for the pair to be alone. Unfortunately, the opportunity she sought had unwelcome repercussions on her own person. Entering the gallery that led to the parapets, Ewan Devlin emerged from the very door they sought.

  “Oh how fortunate! It appears you are in need of another to round out numbers… Please, Miss de Bourgh, allow me the honor.” He offered his arm with a slight bow. With manners impeccable, it would seem rude for her to refuse as he joined them for the final ascent. Inside the ancient wooden door, a narrow stair circled its way upwards. Small landings broke the climb, with archer’s windows allowing a thin view of the courtyard below. It was indeed a well-designed defense.

  “Oh that is nothing, wait until we are out on the walk,” Gareth promised, and he pushed open the portal leading to the roof top.

  Surrounded by a crenelated wall, some three feet in height, the flat stone surface of the roof was nearly twenty feet square. An area that was once used for dumping boiling oil and the like on intruders, now bore an assortment of chairs to allow those who braved the climb to enjoy a spectacular view. A clear blue sky, devoid of any traces of yesterday’s fog, now stretched on for miles. A low haze of mountains framed the village settled in a knoll some two miles from the tor.

  “Oh I wish I had my sketchbook!” exclaimed Georgiana as she clung to Gareth’s arm and leaned out over the wall.

  “Careful… many a person has fallen to their death from such folly. Bewitched by the scenery... We can return whenever you like with some paper and charcoal… or perhaps paints. My mother was quite the painter, I am sure she would want them to be of use.”

  Georgiana blushed at the offer and nodded happily. It was obvious that there was a growing affection.

  “And what do you think?” queried Ewan of Anne as she too gazed off across the fields.

  “It is beautiful, but I am afraid that I don’t care much for great heights.”

  The Darcy’s too had not chosen to venture close to the wall. Its sheer age made any rational person cautious. They had taken seats nearby and simply watched the younger couples without comment. Elizabeth Darcy passed her husband an amused smile when she noticed him observing his sister’s actions. It was entertaining to see his discomfort at the possibility of the young woman he helped raise cling to another. It was as if she were watching a parent lose a child… bittersweet.

  Soon, a brisk wind began to blow, sending them all back inside. They had been some hours wandering the historical architecture and were now in need of some refreshment. Taking another route back to the main hall, Gareth stopped in front of the great library.

  “I had almost forgotten. Pemberley boasts a considerable collection of books and manuscripts, but I must say, I have always held Polwys to be one of the finest in the country. It must be a Darcy trait we share,” he boasted slightly as he opened the double doors.

  Inside, even Fitzwilliam Darcy had to honestly admit to a pang of jealousy. Two stories of books, surrounded by a wraparound catwalk, displayed the enormous volume of leather-bound treasures. It must have taken centuries to acquire.

  Seeing his guest’s admiration, Gareth volunteered a short history and its unlimited use. “Some of the oldest are hand copied by monks from the tenth century. Those are kept in special wrappings to preserve the dyes, but I would be pleased to show them to you.”

  “I should be delighted… and envious!” Darcy replied honestly.

  Georgiana had wandered about the room, her hand running absently across tables and chairs as if she were trying to find something. A strange sense of being watched had overcome her the moment they entered. It was as if the room had a life of its own. Peering up at the large mural that graced the ceiling, she squinted slightly and then shook her head. She must be needing to eat again, for she could have sworn that she saw a pair of eyes looking down on her. Shaking it off, she returned to the others and made her request.

  “I’m starving… and you know what that means…” she said with a mischievous grin.

  Darcy and Elizabeth were glad to see that Georgiana was now able to laugh about her new situation. Perhaps it was simply being around those who understood?

  “Indeed I do…. We must teach you to hunt while you are here, to prevent any unfortunate situations,” Gareth offered and led her from the room. He too had seen Maris watching them from the rafters and was grateful that she had not deemed it necessary to materialize in front of everyone. He was not sure how he’d explain it. As it was, the Darcy’s and Miss de Bourgh had been very accepting… a ghost may simply be too much.

  *****

  Anne de Bourgh suffered through the attentions of Ewan Devlin for as long as she could before pleading fatigue after luncheon and escaping to her bed.

  “I want to be fresh for tonight’s dinner,” she said with a sincere tone, but in reality the idea of tolerating one more forward squeeze of her hand by Ewan was giving her indigestion. Unfortunately, he insisted on claiming a seat next to her before he would allow her to go. After giving her promise, she practically ran up the stairs once she was out of sight. Locking her door, she realized that she was indeed tired, after all it h
ad been a most unusual few days and was soon sound asleep.

  Elizabeth and Darcy also made their excuses, but more so to give Georgiana and Gareth some time alone as well as themselves. It had been overly long since they had no pressing responsibilities. A few hours in each other’s company was enticingly appealing. With promises to come down well before dinner, the elder Darcy’s left Georgiana and Gareth to their own devices.

  “Well, I shall not be a third wheel!” smirked Ewan as he too left them alone to take care of some unknown business.

  Once alone, Gareth grinned and grabbed Georgiana’s hand. “Unless you too are tired, I have someone who is wanting to meet you. But… be prepared for something most unusual.”

  Georgiana, always energized for a few hours once she had consumed blood, was not in the least sleepy. “I cannot imagine anything more strange than what I have already experienced… lead on!” she ordered and followed him back into the cavernous library.

  This time, without the need to attend to others, Gareth showed Georgiana every nook and cranny in the space, before pressing a carved plate set into one of the larger glassed cases. A creaking sound was heard as the wall of books easily slid to one side, exposing an inner chamber completely hidden from the main room. It was in here that Maris waited, shimmering in the filtered light from a single mullioned window. At first, Georgiana could hardly see her as dust motes combined with the twinkling outline. It was not until the sparkling eyes, very much like what hers now were, combined with a musical voice and addressed her.

  “Well, it took long enough for someone to bring you about. Manners seem to be in short supply around here,” joked the shimmer as it floated slowly in Georgiana’s direction so that the younger woman could actually see the outline of facial features in the apparition.

  Taken aback, Georgiana jerked her head in surprise and looked to Gareth as if to confirm what her eyes told her was real.