Suggestions for the title of chapter 24 were:

"He Won't Bite" by Clara84,

"A Mystery Unravels" "Confessions" or "The Truth Will Set You Free" by Chica de Los Ojas Cafe,

"Smooth operator" by Dizzy Lizzy.60,

"Better alternatives; Bigger fish; Guesses and answers" by phyloxena,

"Cat out of the bag" by quickthorn,

"Getting to the Heart of the Matter" or "Heartfelt Revelations" by Deanna27,

"The Colonel Goes Fishing" or "Surprise, Surprise" by CG4me,

"Mysterious Bedfellows" by anita1788,

"Unexpected Shots in the Dark", "Ambushed", "Sharing Secrets", "Surprising Assignation" or "Nocturnal Confessions" by amamama,

"Secrets in the Dark" by Mariafae,

"Guess my secret" or "Nocturnal encounters" or "Surprising confessions" or "Stunning discoveries" by Laura Saintyves.

I thought of "You've got to be joking" to cover both of the colonel's conversations but decided to go with "Dark secrets" based on Mariafae's suggestion.

Remember, you need to be logged in to be in the running for a prize, otherwise I may not be able to contact you if you win.

Don't forget you can still read my first two published books Via Luton and Time's Up for free if you have an Kindle Unlimited subscription.

Chapter 25

If it had been Darcy's object to silence his cousin on the topic of marriage he succeeded admirably. For his part, Richard was ready to believe that Darcy had contracted a malady in Pest, but he was more inclined to think it was something that affected his cousin's mind rather than vampirism. Having lived many years of his adulthood in war zones, the colonel was well aware that one needed to humour the mentally unstable—at least until you could clap them in irons. So he pursued this course with his cousin, asking why he believed he was a vampire.

Darcy briefly described his encounters with Count Bàthory and went on to dutifully list his symptoms—the craving for blood, the aversion for light, the headaches. He described how he drank his bottled blood every night; showed Richard the recently emptied port wine bottles that had been filled with the blood of venesection and described his visits to the tenants' cottages afterwards to sate the final pangs.

"You bite the tenants?" asked the colonel, trying to stifle the note of incredulity that had crept into his voice.

"I must!" defended Darcy. "If one does not, the cravings become unbearable. I risk attacking my valet, Georgie or anyone else who is at hand. In my crazed state, I could easily kill them, or worse, turn them into such as I am."

"And just how does that occur?" asked the colonel politely.

"It happens if one draws blood from the donor too long. I keep a watch with a second hand to ensure I do not err—a minute is all that is safe."

Darcy pulled out the watch the count had given him. The colonel accepted this and appeared to examine it while asking Darcy to describe his meetings with Count Bàthory in more detail.

But once the questions started going in circles with more information being requested on each cycle, Darcy became frustrated. He got up and started pacing as Richard continued to quiz him. Finally he leapt at Richard suddenly, pinning him in his chair and baring his fangs at him.

"My God!" Richard yelped, the whites of his eyes showing.

The colonel made a spirited but unsuccessful attempt to fight his way from his cousin's grasp. It was his inability to break free just as much as the fangs and the wild look in his cousin's eye that convinced Richard that Darcy spoke nothing but the truth. They had wrestled each other playfully from a young age. Being three years younger than the colonel, Darcy's youth had always counted against him in their early bouts. But once Darcy reached Richard's height and even gained a few inches on him, they had been almost evenly matched for a short period. But then the colonel had put on weight and the combination of that and his constant training had given him the advantage once more. Now, it was clear that Darcy was the far superior combatant. His unnerving strength and lightening reflexes had effectively neutralised every move the colonel had made.

With a superhuman effort, for the combat had stirred some predatory instinct inside him, Darcy finally released his cousin to withdraw to the shadows. "Now do you believe me?" he asked from the gloom.

The colonel took a deep breath. "You are quite in control of yourself?" he asked tentatively, afraid he had unleashed a monster.

"Yes, I have fed," Darcy assured him quietly.

Richard tried to still his pounding heart. Glancing around, he noticed that Darcy's valet had come to the dressing room door, no doubt summoned by the noise of their tussle.

"Your valet knows then? Has known from the start?"

"Not from the start, but he began to suspect something when we were travelling to Zagreb—the way I kept disappearing at night. Apparently I was not as discreet as I might have been when we first arrived in the city. He followed me. I am more careful now. Finn kept his revelation to himself for a while, but there was an incident in London... which I will tell you about later... when I needed his help. He revealed his knowledge of my condition. If you have any doubts of my mental stability, he has witnessed things that will leave you in no doubt that I am what I say I am."

"Such as?" prompted the colonel.

Darcy sighed and regrouped. He felt Finn would be wasting his breath on Richard. As always, actions seemed to work louder than words with his cousin. "Finn, my razor," he requested.

The colonel was a little perturbed by this order and stood to keep his options for escape open. But upon being handed the razor, Darcy drew up his sleeve, and before Richard could protest, drew a thin line down his forearm from which blood immediately began to trickle. He showed it to Richard while mopping at the edges of the wound with a black silk handkerchief to ensure that his blood did not stain his aunt's Aubusson* carpet.

"It is not deep. But by the time I come down for breakfast at eleven it will not be there, Richard, as you will see. I have recovered from mortal wounds. Ask your mother if you do not believe me."

The invocation of the countess had a powerful effect on the colonel who knew his mother would never lie to him. "When did you sustain a mortal wound and why wasn't I told?"

Darcy bit his lip. He feared that Richard might do something rash if he discovered that Wickham and Georgie were involved. "I was shot one night in St Giles. I managed to get back to the townhouse afterwards."

"You attacked someone and they defended themselves with a pistol?"

"Yes. Dr Stevens said it pierced both my lung and my stomach. Out of my earshot—or so he thought, for that is something that has changed also—he told your father I would almost certainly die a slow and lingering death. But Finn was able to supply me with blood and within a day I was out of my bed. We fled to Bedfordshire to disguise my rapid recovery."

"One day?" asked the colonel, astonished.

"By the time Bingley visited me around midday the next day, the wound had completely closed over. Finn, was it not so?"

"Yes, sir. It was a gaping wound when they brought the master in near midnight—mortal bad. He was barely conscious. I thought it was the end. But when Mr Bingley came to call it was completely closed over; the flesh pink and new."

"I can assure you, it is very difficult to kill a vampire," said Darcy. "I have had to deal with one myself as per the count's instructions. It requires complete obliteration or beheading."

The colonel stared at his cousin in amazement. A veteran of war, Richard had not thought his gentle cousin had the killer instinct within him. He suddenly felt weak as his mind accepted the outlandish as the most likely explanation.

"Do you have any brandy?" Richard managed.

Despite his preference for mislabelled port, Darcy did indeed have brandy. The cousins sat back down in front of the hearth while Finn fetched the glasses.

"Are you still able to sire children?" asked the colonel, whose resilient mind had returned to the original problem.

"What need I of an heir?" said Darcy with grim irony. "According to the count, I am going to live forever."

Richard viewed him with scepticism. "Are you seriously telling me that this count has not aged since his transformation two hundred years ago?"

"He claimed he was in his late twenties when he was transformed and he does not look above thirty-five. He gave no proof of his antiquity but given the veracity of everything else about him—his fangs, his inordinate strength—why should I doubt him?"

"I suppose it is too early for you to have noticed any escape from the ravages of time in yourself. You are still in the prime of your life. God! I already look ten years older than you after my stint in the Peninsula!" said the colonel with some envy. "How the sun beats down in Spain!

"But be sensible, Darcy," chided the colonel. "You cannot continue as the master of Pemberley for ever. For a start, people would notice if you did not age."

"I know," said Darcy wearily. "I suppose I could pretend to age—Finn could powder my hair; do things with maquillage*. But eventually I would have to disappear; perhaps fake my own death. I intend to leave Pemberley to Georgie's eldest son or daughter." A tic beat briefly in the Darcy's jaw as his rage against Wickham flared again and was smothered. That was what had been so especially upsetting about Georgie's elopement—the thought that even if she married Bingley, it might be George's get* who inherited Pemberley.

"Perhaps that would work," Richard admitted consideringly. "Has the count any children? And are they vampires or that other thing I can't remember the name of."

"Dhampir*?" offered Darcy. "No, the count says dhampir don't exist. He believes that legend may have arisen from children whose parents were transformed imitating their behaviour. And yes to your first question—the count has a dozen or so children, but he only started fathering them in his second century. They are not vampires."

"Are you saying that vampires do not reach sexual maturity until they are one hundred?" asked Richard incredulously.

"I have no idea and neither does the count. For the first decades of his existence he lived with another vampire named Ursula. They did not think it was possible for them to conceive but finally Ursula realised she was with child. She was at first overjoyed but as the baby got larger she began to experience pain. It seemed her body was unable to adapt to the child growing inside her. As the pregnancy progressed, the pain became worse and eventually she was bleeding constantly. The count wanted to end it but Ursula would not agree—she thought she could endure it but it sent her mad. One night she jumped from a tower before he could stop her."

The colonel sipped his brandy and listened, trying to suspend his disbelief.

"The count said he did not have congress with a woman for a long time after that," continued Darcy, "partly because he mourned Ursula, but also because he could not discern the difference between blood lust and ordinary lust. Eventually he started an affair with an actress whom he had visited as a donor. She conceived a child within three months of the beginning of their physical relationship. The count told me he has been judicious in his amorous affairs. He keeps his loves as mistresses but does not visit them regularly, for to live with them would reveal his true nature. But he loves them as wives, only keeping one at a time and providing generously for the woman and any children. Over the past hundred years he has sired a dozen children. The eldest have grown old and died, never knowing their father was a vampire."

"My God! You don't contemplate such an existence for yourself do you? It sounds incredibly lonely—though I expect there are some men whom it would suit admirably, but not you. Surely if you are capable of siring children, you could at least live the first decades of your life in a semblance of normality?"

"What woman would have me? My nocturnal habits, the ruse with the port—she would likely deem me a drunkard!"

Richard could see that it would not be easy, but knowing the very separate existences his parents led, he did not think it impossible. The problem was that Darcy almost certainly had different notions of domestic bliss—his parents had been very close. Mr Darcy had pursued Lady Anne with ardency. His good looks, wealth and devotion had won her despite the difference in their stations. Their marriage had been one of true felicity. He had gone into a slow decline after her death when Darcy was twelve, that not even his love for his children could halt. Trying to direct his mind into more hopeful avenues, Richard grasped at the only straw he could think of.

"This lady you met in Hertfordshire, tell me about her."

"What is there to tell? From the instant I saw her I was powerfully attracted to her but I do not know why. I suspect it is her blood. I did not explain earlier, but not all blood tastes the same. In particular, the blood of some is unpalatable. The count and I have been arguing over this point for some months—he thinks there is only one group of unpalatables but I think there are at least two. That was how I was able to comfortably stay with the Bingleys—they are of the count's unpalatable group."

"So you think your lady is the opposite of unpalatable?"

"I do not even know if such a thing exists! The count thinks I am in love with her—that I am confusing lust and bloodlust in my mind. He seems to recall feeling the same for Ursula, but such has been the passage of time, he cannot be sure. He has recognised the two as distinct feelings for over a century and thinks that my youth and inexperience are not allowing me to make the distinction, as was the case for him in his youth. But as both he and Ursula were vampires, I am not sure I can rely on his advice at all."

"Perhaps I can help," mused the colonel, "even if it is just by getting you to describe your feelings aloud. Tell me more about this girl from Hertfordshire. What is her name?"

"Her name is Elizabeth Bennet. She is one of five daughters of the squire of Longbourn—the second eldest. The first time I saw her was at an assembly. I hardly noticed her at first. Her eldest sister is the beauty of the family—she has her mother's colouring, blonde hair and bright blue eyes like sapphires. Bingley was much taken with her—to my considerable dismay—for his infatuation threatened to ruin my plans for safeguarding Georgie's reputation. Elizabeth is beautiful but in a more subtle way—she has dark brown hair and eyes that speak of intelligence. When I encountered her in the progression, something seized me—I felt jolted."

"Lightning struck, eh?"

"I don't know if it was her scent or her touch. We were both gloved but I felt the jolt through the material. Such speaking eyes—it was like we recognised each other. It threw me. As soon as I withdrew from her presence, it started. I wanted to touch her again. My fangs ached. I began to imagine spiriting her away into the night, in flashes that seemed to goad me to do the deed. I was overcome. I had to leave the assembly room and go slake my bloodlust, even though I had already fed that night. I spent the rest of the night forcing myself further away from her, all the while fantasising about going back to find her."

"That seems a pretty normal infatuation to me," suggested Richard.

Darcy looked at his cousin incredulously. "Do you honestly tell me that your teeth ache?"

"May be the ache is a little lower down," conceded the colonel. "When did you next meet her?"

"Ah!" said Darcy. "That was also memorable! Bingley has two sisters. One day they invited the eldest Miss Bennet to Netherfield for lunch. She was caught in the rain on her journey over and was forced to stay overnight due to the weather. By morning she had fallen ill with a sick cold and was bedridden. By midday Miss Elizabeth arrived to visit her sister. I shall never forget her appearance as she walked through the door. Her hair was tousled by the wind, her colour high. I was so affected I sank my fangs into my lower lip."

"Does that happen often?" asked the colonel in mock solicitude. He was beginning to feel a little silly—that slightly giddy feeling in his stomach. The combination of the brandy on top of the champagne and an increasing sense of unreality were beginning to play on him. He felt that at any moment he might burst out laughing hysterically, as he had often done with comrades over morbid war jokes. He reined the feeling in.

"No!" replied Darcy in all earnestness. "But perhaps there were extenuating circumstances. I was not used to my fangs then. They had only just grown long enough to injure me and I did not have perfect control over them..."

"So they did not just appear when you were transformed? They grew over a period of time?"

"Yes! And ached intermittently all the while. Thank God that has stopped now," said Darcy before resuming his story. "Elizabeth left to go upstairs to her sister. I could hardly think a cogent thought. She was in Bingley's house! With me! I would have to sit by her at dinner when all I wanted to do was have her for dinner! I was beside myself. But it got worse—she was invited to stay overnight. Despite going off early to sate my thirst and distract myself, and getting Finn to tie me to the bed so that I did not wander during the night, I woke up in her bed."

"Lord, Darcy! You didn't...?"

"No, but after waking up and realising my situation, I do not think that I breathed for the entire next minute—at least until I had established that her body was not in the room. It turned out that I had likely not encountered her at all—she moved to her sister's room before retiring for the night. Sometime during the early hours of the morning, I had chewed through the bandages Finn had bound me with and wandered into her room, though I have no memory of it. Subsequently Finn chained me to the bed every night."

The colonel raised his eyebrows at this but said nothing. He thought it sounded like something they got up to at the Hellfire Club*.

"The next day she walked into the study—a room I had particularly claimed as my own at Netherfield. The impulse to close the door upon her was strong but I resisted. I spoke with her for the first time. She was interested in the chemistry set I had left out on a table."

"Lud!" smirked the colonel. "A gal after your own heart!"

"She spoke well," said Darcy, ignoring his cousin's teasing. "Her father is a scholar. I discovered later that she actually performs alchemical experiments, although she only dabbles in it. The chief of her time in her still room is spent brewing perfectly innocuous things like small beer."

Darcy suddenly became pensive as his mind drifted to his next alchemical encounter with Miss Elizabeth on the balcony at the Netherfield Ball—the way her eyes had seemed to sparkle as he lit the match.

"So that is it?" the colonel prompted. "The entirety of your extraordinary romance?"

"No!" protested Darcy, retrieving his place in his narrative. "Thanks to Finn I kept away from her during the rest of her stay at Netherfield. But once she went back to Longbourn, I found myself running over there every night, staring at the windows of the upper floor, hoping for a glimpse of her. I had been doing this for about a week before she shot me."

"I beg your pardon," interjected Richard, whose comic vision of Darcy as Romeo had been severely jolted by his last utterance. "I thought you said she shot you?"

"You heard correctly," said Darcy, then swiftly explained upon seeing Richard's shocked look. "I did not attack her. I merely made the mistake of standing too near the chicken coop."

"Now I am completely flummoxed*," admitted Richard.

"There was a chicken thief in the area around that time, although there was some dispute as to whether it was a fox. Most of the depredations were in the vicinity of Meryton but clearly they had heard of the news at Longbourn. I had taken to standing next to the coop because it was in the shadow of a large oak. The hens had cackled once or twice, for they were a little nervous of my presence. But one night they got into a grand fuss. I had been trying to use mesmerism to bring her to the window. As I told you, it is how the count subdues his donors. Lord! I wonder if the chickens were objecting to that? I had not made the connection before..."

"You see!" said the colonel with a smirk. "Enlightenment already! Chickens are unsettled by mesmerism! Perhaps they are chicken-hearted?"

"Do you really want to hear this or not?" asked Darcy tartly.

"Forgive me," begged the colonel.

"The front door of the manor house opened and Elizabeth stepped out. At first I thought I had been successful in drawing her out. Then I realised she had a fowling piece* in her hand. I suppose I must have been the one who was mesmerised, for she lowered it and gave me both barrels before I could dodge out of the way. Perhaps there were extenuating circumstances, I seem to recall tripping on something."

"Peppered you in the leg did she?"

"No, she caught me square in the chest. The gun she was carrying was no toy. Finn was plucking the lead pellets out of me for an hour once I got home."

"Another example of the master's regenerative abilities, sir," offered Finn, as if in chorus. "Some of the lead was embedded so deeply in the master's flesh, I thought I would have to cut it out with a scalpel. The master would not let me, wishing to get his rest, but by the next morning his body had expulsed most of the pellets."

"Interesting," said the colonel pensively before adding flippantly: "The things you do for love! I do hope that cured you of stalking your Amazon?"

"She is not an Amazon!" protested Darcy hotly. "She is quite petite but with the courage of a lion! As to deterring me, pooh! what do you think I am made of, butter? I went back the next night."

"I can definitely see you are obsessed," observed the colonel wryly.

Darcy did not deny it and Finn was glad to see that his master was now openly admitting he had been stalking Miss Elizabeth rather than maintaining his visits were to check on her welfare. Darcy skipped his brief interlude with Miss Elizabeth at the Lucases' soirée, which had been marred by the advent of George Wickham.

"There was an incident a couple of nights later that made me begin to suspect that my interest in Miss Elizabeth might not be totally vampiric," he continued. "Longbourn was at that time being visited by Aunt's parson, Mr Collins, who is a cousin of Miss Elizabeth's. The estate is entailed and he is the heir. You will meet him tomorrow, for he visits almost every morning. A more infuriating person you are not likely to meet. His stupidity and grovelling are almost too much to bear. I cannot witness it without wishing to squeeze his head between my hands like Tipu Sultan*."

The colonel raised his eyebrows at his cousin's unusual vehemence. "As bad as old Comfrey?"

"Far worse," Darcy assured him. "I did not know Collins then, which is just as well, for on my nightly visit to Longbourn I witnessed him proposing to Miss Elizabeth. I was outraged. I know it is ridiculous, but I felt such an overwhelming sense that she belonged to me and only me. I could see she did not welcome his advances. I tried to call to her with my powers of mesmerism and to my delight she came to me—for I was not confident in my abilities then. Imagine my chagrin when I discovered she was not mesmerised at all. She had fled from her cousin by her own free will. I touched her neck. It was different to the first time—not a jolt, almost the opposite. I did not want to take my hand away; almost as if she was a lodestone*. I think she felt it too—she invited me inside."

"Is that not dangerous? Does it not then allow you to cross the threshold whenever you wish?"

That is rubbish," said Darcy dismissively. "As the count says, we are still men and can cross a threshold like any gentleman. In retrospect, I realise she probably wanted to avoid being alone with her cousin."

"I gather she did not end up marrying the dreaded Mr Collins?" observed the Colonel.

"No. I thought he would likely marry one of the younger Bennet sisters after her rejection. I was quite surprised to discover he married Miss Elizabeth's best friend. Still, there appear to be no hard feelings between them—Mrs Collins' father and sister came to visit her recently and Miss Elizabeth came with them. She is currently staying at the parsonage."

"Ah!" replied the colonel, who thought he now understood the reason for Darcy's early visit to Kent.

"Still," said Darcy, returning to his narrative, "the incident gave me pause. I realised I was tempting fate by constantly returning to Longbourn. You may think I have not learnt my lesson, for I have visited the parsonage every night since discovering she is currently staying with her cousin, but I have better control over my impulses now. Nonetheless, I did the sensible at the time and the next night I convinced one of Longbourn's tenants to act as a keeper and went there no more."

"Now you have lost me," complained the colonel. "What the hell is a keeper?"

Darcy explained about the anomalous vampires and the count's method for keeping them in check.

"So that was what you were referring to when you said vampires are difficult to kill? It was a vampire you had unintentionally spawned rather than another you had just encountered?"

"Yes," said Darcy, shuddering. "I have only had to deal with one such but it was truly horrible. I give my keepers two sets of birds—one group homes to Mayfair, the other to Pemberley. They are to release one from each cage if there is trouble. As I was residing in London, I was able to return to St Giles where the birds were released on the evening of the same day. There were runners from Bow St milling about in pairs, gone there to investigate after the discovery of several corpses that day. They had already dubbed their quarry 'The Ripper' based on the injuries to the bodies. I set off over the rooftops so that I could quickly cover as much ground as possible."

"You can fly?" asked the colonel incredulously.

"No!" replied Darcy scornfully, "but I can jump. The houses are so squashed together in the rookeries, the lanes so narrow, that one need hardly touch the ground. I was able to locate him quickly when I heard a woman scream. He was no match for me. I quickly hauled him to the rooftops before the runners could descend on us. He was quite feral, completely out of his mind and trying to gnash at me with his teeth. May God forgive me, but that was the end of him"

"You saved many by your quick action!" assured the colonel. "I doubt the runners were prepared to deal with something like that! And if it bit them but did not kill them, I suppose they too would have turned into vampires?"

"Only if it drank from them long enough. As the young ones do not have proper fangs, they tend to kill their victims by tearing at their flesh, as the count described his mother doing. The rumour in St Giles was of a werewolf on the loose."

"So I suppose most 'vampire outbreaks' are self-limiting," mused the colonel. "The truly dangerous ones are the vampires tutored by their makers."

"If you are thinking of finishing me off, then I urge you to be thorough," said Darcy. "Take me by surprise when I am sleeping during the day and make sure to obliterate me."

"I see a perfectly rational and controlled creature in front of me," replied the colonel. "I begin to think this count knew what he was doing."

As the cousins sat by the hearth, each immersed in their own thoughts, the first light of dawn showed at the window. Before the sun's rays could disturb his master, Finn drew the curtains.

"The master should sleep now before breakfast," suggested Finn gently.

So the colonel had gone off, much troubled, absentmindedly leaving his empty champagne bottle behind. Although he had repaired to his bedchamber, he was too rattled to sleep. Instead of donning his nightshirt, Richard pulled on his old uniform and set off to the tranquility of the lake, to fish and think.

The colonel was stone cold sober by the time he sat on the pier. His mind wandered to some very dark places over the next hour. The jokester fuelled by drink and incredulity had completely disappeared. Richard realised he had been struggling to accept his cousin's revelation. Worse still, his mind, bent on marriage after his tryst with Anne, had then proceeded according to his initial plans, trying to thrust Darcy into matrimony before him. He had been trying to bang a square peg into a round hole*. Now Richard examined the situation with more perspective. Was his cousin a fit groom for any lady? Was he indeed a fit heir for Pemberley?

Richard's thoughts reached their nadir when he seriously considered carrying out his cousin's request to do away with him. Being a cavalryman, Richard's first instinct was to decapitate the monster his cousin had become with his sword, though it would not do to botch it. If Darcy could jump from rooftops without injury, it was likely that his body was made of sterner stuff than the average man. Still, Darcy said he had been seriously injured by a pistol in the rookeries. Perhaps blood loss would be enough to incapacitate him? He would have to work quickly after that. Clearly Richard could not set upon Darcy in his aunt's house without drugging her first. More complication. It would be better to do the deed elsewhere. Nor would Darcy's servants ever let Richard get away with murdering their master in either of his households, so it would have to be on the road—perhaps when Darcy was travelling between London and Derbyshire...

Struggling with these morbid thoughts, the colonel yet heard the squelch of someone stepping on the plank near the hut—his military training served him well. And when that someone unexpectedly burst into a cheery song, Richard was ready with the next line, for it was a song after his own heart, one he had whistled many a time.

Richard was more than intrigued when the pretty lady who had peered around the reeds confirmed she was indeed Elizabeth Bennet. So Darcy's love had sat on the pier with him for a short time and Richard had found it easy to temporarily forget his cares and light-heartedly flirt with such a pretty lass. He judged her to be about twenty.

After Elizabeth left, Richard's heart paradoxically felt incomparably lighter. Darcy's obsession was a lady who bore no resemblance to a hapless female in a novel, harassed by a fiend and pining for her hero to set her free. Bright, witty—Miss Elizabeth Bennet was everything that was free-spirited and lovely. Should he have expected anything less from a lady interested in alchemy? Suddenly Richard felt less like he was caught up in some tragedy. The cloud suddenly disappeared from the colonel's horizon.

Footnotes

*Aubusson—a fine tapestry or carpet made in the French town of Aubusson, very expensive and popular during the Georgian period.

*get—progeny

*Dhampir—originating in Balkan folklore, dhampir refers to any hybrid of one human and one vampire parent. They are not vampires themselves, but a half-breed of both.

*Hellfire Club—Hellfire Clubs were exclusive clubs for high society rakes established in Britain and Ireland in the 18th century, where they indulged in immoral acts.

*flummoxed—confused, northern dialect

*fowling piece—a shot gun

*Tipu Sultan—a southern Indian king, with the assistance of the French Republic, resisted British colonialism in the Anglo-Mysore War. Tipu's executioners were strongmen who could crush a man's skull with their bare hands. For a fictionalised account see Sharpe's Tiger.

*lodestone—a natural magnet

*to bang a round peg into a square hole—to force something to conform that does not, often used to refer to misfits.