Monday, September 28, 2009
Mr. Darcy, Vampyre by Amanda Grange
My dearest Jane,
Be not alarmed by this quick correspondence, my new, dearly married sister, I just wanted to keep you well-informed of the going's on of the new Darcy household. I hear Pemberly's beautiful this time of year, but I, of course, have yet to see it! Darcy has drug me off to France and Italy on our "honeymoon tour" and yes I didn't know what that meant either. Apparently it means we get to travel to distant lands and castles and meet strange people with pale skin.
He's quit changed, my Mr. Darcy is, in fact I would say he's been a completely different person from our wedding day on. I hardly know what to make of him, all this brooding and melancholy. And yes, I know he was that way before, but we're married now. It's supposed to be different, isn't it? He leaves me quite unattended in the evenings, until I have no idea what he's about. I find his room empty with nothing but bats lingering outside his windows. Jane, bats! I have no idea what to make of it. Could he be a bat whisperer?
As far as our marriage bed is concerned, he has yet to know me in the traditional sense, instead when he touches me he looks pained and pale, and dark red blood trickles down his mouth in such a way I can hardly control my wanting to thrust the nearest wooden chair leg through his chest. Yet he doesn't yield. I don't know, but I'm sensing that's not a good sign. Perhaps there is a waiting period I know not of. Will you consult with your Bingley on the matter?
Care not though, Jane, I've met a variety of interesting people on our journey. Counts, and princes, and people so longing to woo me and kiss my neck, and I've only been chased by an angry mob with dogs and horses once, so you need not fear for my safety as you know what a fast runner I am in a long flowing dress.
When we shall be returning, I know not, but one of us needs to change and soon or I fear this marriage is doomed from the start. I'd hate to spend eternity with a man such as this. I will come to you as quickly as I can, but who knows Jane, when I return to England I might not be the sister you once loved for so many years. I may be quite changed.
I may be...dead.
See ya soon sis.
Your beloved Elizabeth (sort of) Darcy
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