Amanda Grange - Mr. Darcy, Vampyre

‘That is why you must get away,’ he said, his voice low and haunted. ‘We vampyres are compelling. If I lose control, you will have no choice but to surrender. If only—but of what use are if onlys now? I let her do this to me; it is done.’

‘You said something like it once before,’ said Elizabeth, remembering the time he had spoken in such a way, as they had been running from the Count’s castle. ‘Did someone turn you into a vampyre? Is that what you are speaking of? Do you mean that you were not always this way? That there was a time when you were once human?’

‘Yes, there was, long ago.’

‘How did it happen?’ she asked.

He said nothing.

‘I want to know,’ she said.

‘Very well. You deserve that much. But you are cold,’ he said as she shivered. ‘You need a hot meal.’ He rang the bell and one of the lodge servants answered. Darcy gave him some instructions and the man bowed and departed. ‘We will eat first, and then I will tell you everything.’

The servants returned at last to say that the meal was ready. Darcy led Elizabeth through to the dining room, where two places were laid. The silver cutlery sparkled against the dark wood of the table. Oddly assorted chairs were set on either side. There was a wood burning stove on one side of the room. A glow came from the grate and flames flickered fitfully there.

One of the servants held the chairs whilst Elizabeth and Darcy seated themselves and then carried a procession of silver platters into the room. It wasn’t until she saw them, and smelt the aromas of roast meat and vegetables, that Elizabeth realised how hungry she was. She had eaten nothing since breakfast that morning, and the time in between had been full of fear and foreboding. She picked up her knife and fork as a plate was set in front of her and Darcy bid her eat.

She needed no urging. Her hands were trembling with the after effects of the day and she felt new strength and energy flooding into her as she put the hot food into her mouth.

He watched her lovingly, tracing the rise and fall of the fork from her plate to her mouth, and each time she parted her lips, his eyes opened a little wider, as if to let more of the sight of her in.

He sat silently whilst she ate, and he did not speak until she had finished her glass of wine.

‘It was in the year 1665,’ he said, ‘the year of the Black Death. The plague was running riot through the streets of Europe, claiming millions of lives. Nowhere was safe. Towns, villages, and cities all felt its dread touch. There was panic on the streets and anyone with the signs of the plague on them was shunned. Doors were marked with crosses to show that they were plague houses, and in many cities the dead outnumbered the living.

‘I was in London when it started. My family were landed gentry, connected to the nobility without being noble themselves, and we had a house in town as well as a country estate. My father was looking for preferment and he decided that we would all move to the London house for a year. There was an outbreak of the plague shortly after we arrived, but it did not seem too alarming. It was in one of the poorer parts of London, and the rest of the city was untouched. But as the summer came, that began to change. It was one of the hottest summers I have ever known. The heat was trapped between the buildings, and in the hot and stifling conditions the plague flourished. It began to spread through the city. The Court moved to the palace at Hampton Court and the nobility began to leave for their country estates. My father stayed for as long as he could, but once his patron decided to retreat to Northumberland, he decided that our own country estate was where we belonged. There was a flurry of activity in the house. I can still remember it: the servants running up and down the stairs and my mother overseeing everything and Georgiana playing in the garden with her doll.

‘When everything was packed, we climbed into the coach and set off for the country. Unfortunately, everyone else had had the same idea. It seemed like the whole of London was on the move. The streets were jammed with carriages and we moved at a snail’s pace. And then we stopped moving altogether. The Lord Mayor had responded to the panic by closing the gates. The only people allowed out of the city were those who had a certificate to say they were in good health.

‘When it became clear that we could not go on, we went back. My father tried to procure a certificate for us to say that we were free of disease. He had friends in high places and after a day of beseeching them to come to his aid—no easy task since few of them were left in the city—he returned home well pleased. He had been promised a certificate and he told my mother that in a few days we would be able to travel.

‘But before it was granted, my father fell ill. We knew at once what it was and my mother summoned the physician, and although he prescribed various remedies, none of them had any effect. In the end, we knew we could do nothing but watch and wait. My mother tended my father faithfully until she too caught the plague, and Georgiana and I watched as they sickened and died. I knew that soon it would be my turn, and then there would be no one left to look after Georgiana. This thought spurred me on. I packed a few belongings and some food and I set out with my sister, in the hope that we would be able to slip through the gates and find safety in the countryside.

‘London was empty as we made our way through the streets, and when we arrived at the gates, we hid until a noble procession of carriages pulled up before it. As the guards examined the papers, Georgiana and I jumped onto the back of the middle carriage and managed to pass through the gate as part of the noble’s entourage. Once safely in the country, we jumped down and ran into a field where we ate some of our food, and then we set off to walk to our estate in the north.

‘I knew we would have to travel slowly, but I thought that we would reach the estate before winter set in. I caught fish for us in the rivers and we found fruit and berries growing in the fields and hedgerows. We slept in the open, avoiding towns, for we did not know how far the plague had spread nor did we know if we, ourselves, might already be infected and so be a danger to others. When it rained we sought shelter in barns. On one stormy night, with no barn in sight, we came to the drive of a fine house. My sister was weary and cold, and we had not eaten all day. I decided to take the risk of approaching the house, for we were many miles out of London, and seeing if they would give us something to eat.

‘As we turned the corner of the drive I saw that the windows were dark. At first I was downhearted, but then I thought it might be better after all if the house was empty. I found an open window at the back of the house where a catch had broken and we were soon inside. There was a little food in the pantry, some cheese and apples, and I collected eggs from the hen house outside. We ate our fill and then went upstairs, and for the first time in weeks I watched Georgiana sleep in a bed.

‘The following morning I wanted to go on, but Georgiana was very young, and she was weary with all her exertions and cried often for our parents. We needed to move on so that we could reach our own estate, but I decided that we would stay in the house for a few days until Georgiana was rested. I caught rabbits, pigeons, and fish, and Georgiana picked fruit and herbs, and together with the remains of the cheese and the plentiful eggs, we survived.

‘I tempted Georgiana with thoughts of seeing our own dear nurse. She expressed herself willing to travel and we decided to set out on the morrow.

‘But when the morrow came, Georgiana was ill and I saw with alarm that she had the signs of the plague on her body.

‘It was a terrible moment. I had thought she had escaped, but there was no mistaking the boils. I looked after her as best I could, but she was sinking fast, and to make matters worse, the owner of the house returned.

‘I heard the carriage late one afternoon. It was so long since I had heard the sound of any human endeavour that for a moment I did not know what it was, but as soon as I remembered, I hid. I crouched beneath the window sill and peered over it to see how many people were approaching.

‘The carriage stopped in front of the house and a woman climbed out. She was splendidly dressed, evidently a woman of rank and fashion, and she was accompanied by a thin and sickly little girl. She was soon lost to view as she walked under the portico and I knew she was entering the house. I was filled with panic. I darted towards the door, meaning to go upstairs and protect Georgiana, but there were voices in the hall and so I hid behind the sofa, hoping the woman would not come into the room. But I was not quick enough and she saw me.

‘“Well, well, what do we have here?” she asked, coming into the room.

‘If I had been alone I would have run, but Georgiana was upstairs and so I could not leave. I stood up and told the woman that I didn’t mean any harm. I said that I had sheltered in the house for a night and that I was moving on.

‘“Are you alone?” she asked me.

‘I said that I was, but my eyes betrayed me and she followed their direction upstairs. Catching hold of my wrist she swept through the hall, up the stairs, and along the landing, taking me with her, whilst the pale girl followed close behind. She had no need to ask where my sister was, for Georgiana’s moans could by now be heard.

‘The woman went into Georgiana’s room and, taking one look at her as she tossed and turned on the bed, saw that her end was near. I expected the woman pull back, but instead she stayed where she was, and she made no move to stop her daughter from going over to Georgiana and holding her hand. Georgiana stopped tossing and turning at once and she opened her eyes and gave a weak smile. There was an instant connection between the two girls.