Darkness Falls Upon Pemberley Read Online Free Page A

unfamiliar, flanked by several meters of hay with thick woods bordering either side. The trees within appeared dense and overgrown, littered with briars and dead brush; a veritable fortress that Darcy speculated could not be easily penetrated by humans unless they wielded torches, pitchforks, and sickles.
    A loud crack of thunder sounded, resonating through the countryside, shaking the very ground beneath his feet. Lightening followed swiftly on its heels—several great, blinding flashes that set the leaden sky ablaze. Darcy’s horse tossed his head with a terrified squeal, nostrils flared and eyes wide as the freezing rain assaulted them with renewed determination.
    For one wild moment, out of the corner of his eye Darcy imagined he saw an all-too-familiar set of eyes watching him intently from between the trees, as bewitching and dark as ever—as dark as the surrounding woods. But rather than lips the colour of pale rose petals on her beloved face, these lips were dyed a deep crimson; bright, and slick, and wet.
    A shock of fear shot through his breast before he realized the absurdity of such a thing and shook his head, irritated and angry with himself. At last, he thought darkly, the madness has set in. Grabbing hold of his horse’s mane, Darcy jammed his foot into the stirrup and mounted, more than willing to return to the warmth of Netherfield and the devil he knew.
     
     
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
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    In his absence, Jane Bennet had been invited to dine with Bingley’s sisters, a change in events that made Darcy dearly wish he’d heeded Bingley’s counsel and supped with the officers instead of galloping across the countryside in the midst of an electrical storm.
    Evening had fallen over Hertfordshire, and yet the rain continued unabated, pelting the windows and pounding against the roof with a vengeance. As Darcy was safely ensconced in Netherfield’s drawing room with a cup of hot tea in his hand, he ought to have been comfortable; but rather than enjoying the warmth of the roaring fire in the grate he was beginning to suffer the effects of a cold and was in no mood to put on pleasant airs for anyone, especially Caroline Bingley and her vapid sister.
    Not that Miss Bennet was fit for company herself at the moment. Her father, ever-vigilant and intent upon going to great lengths to protect his second daughter from Darcy’s attentions, had foolishly allowed his first to ride to Netherfield unaccompanied on horseback. To everyone’s horror she’d arrived nearly an hour later than expected—soaking wet and chilled to the bone—and had promptly fallen ill during the first course. She was currently lodged in a guest room above stairs with a headache, a sore throat, and a slight fever. While her condition was hardly favourable, at the moment Darcy felt his was little better. Though he wasn’t half as ill as Jane Bennet, Bingley had yet to return from Meryton, leaving him to pass the evening alone with Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
    “Tell me, Mr. Darcy,” Miss Bingley inquired as she laid aside her cards and proceeded to take a turn about the room, “why is it that you and my brother feel the need to bother with the Bennets? In my opinion, they possess nothing out of the ordinary; no superior qualities or talents to set them apart or distinguish them from the rest of their sex, unless, of course, you count the two youngest girls’ appetite for officers and Eliza’s penchant for scampering about the countryside. Jane Bennet, I grant you, is a sweet girl. It’s a shame her connexions are so low, otherwise, I wouldn’t mind knowing her better.”
    Mrs. Hurst hummed her agreement from the card table, abandoning her own cards to rearrange the elegant gold bangles upon her wrists.
    Darcy closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He was in no frame of mind to tolerate Caroline Bingley’s jealousy, yet , out of respect for Bingley, knew he must remain civil. He took a sip of tea, wincing as he swallowed, and