Free A Touch of Night by Sarah A. Hoyt Page B

him no one else would?" asked Lydia. "Though, truth be told, I cannot understand what Charlotte sees in that ugly, mottled thing."
    "And his whiskers!" tittered Kitty. "Oh, shh! Here she comes now to tell you."
    Elizabeth did her best to keep her composure while talking to her friend. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Charlotte's feelings and alienate her, but the thought of Charlotte married to a were-ape was almost too much to bear. Not only was Mr. Collins boring and unattractive in his human form, his lack of control over his animal form was both disagreeable and dangerous.
    But Charlotte claimed to be happy with her engagement, and she knew that her friend had different expectations from marriage than she had herself. She knew she ought to, but she could not bring herself to tell Charlotte what she had discovered about Mr. Collins. It would ruin her happiness and make her a laughingstock in the neighborhood. Besides, with the were -hunters in town, it could be dangerous for Mr. Collins. And she didn't want his life on her hands.

    * * * *

    Far away in his London townhouse, Mr. Darcy brooded by the sitting room window. Behind him, Georgiana, his sixteen year old sister, played, softly. He'd been glad enough to see Georgiana again. Georgiana was still wounded from the events with Sevrin and more in need of his steadying arm and shoulder than Darcy had expected.
    They were now alone, the Bingleys having left after dinner. But how quiet and hapless Bingley had looked at dinner. Darcy very much feared that his attachment to the Bennet girl had been real and one of those from which one hardly recovered, or never completely. With Bingley's gentle nature, he was likely to fall in melancholy. The fact that Miss Bingley had babbled on no stop with more vitriol than sense hadn't made dinner any easier.
    He became aware the piano had stopped behind him, a second before Georgiana put her hand on his shoulder.
    "You are very quiet, brother."
    Darcy sighed. "I suppose," he said. "I'm still mourning for..." He wouldn't say Sevrin's name.
    Georgiana sighed. "We all are. But I seem to detect something else, some fresh grief."
    Darcy managed a quick, flashing smile. How perceptive Georgiana was, for her age. "Not grief, dear. Not exactly." With his larger hand, he patted her hand on his shoulder. "Not unless one can grieve for a future that could never be."
    Georgiana looked attentively at him, her dark blue eyes serious. "It is a girl, then? Like... Mr. Bingley?"
    Darcy looked over his shoulder at Georgiana. "What know you of Bingley's girl?"
    "Nothing, except that Miss Bingley was very spiteful about some nobody who tried to attach him. Was it the same girl you cared for?"
    Darcy laughed at the thought of his being interested in Jane Bennet. "Nothing so simple, no. It was... another girl. With eyes like the midnight sky. She..." He shook his head. "To be honest, I don't even know why she fascinates me."
    He looked out at the sky, lit by reflections of lights from the great city of London. And realized in his mind he was calculating how long it would take the dragon to fly to Hertfordshire and fly outside Elizabeth Bennet's window, looking into her bedchamber. But his rational self knew this was lunacy. He would have to be content with his memory of her, sleeping, her face beautiful and hopeful in repose. Like a fairy princess waiting the kiss of a charmed knight.
    Unfortunately, he was more cursed than charmed. And the kiss would never happen.

    * * * *

    Georgiana Darcy walked down the long hallways of the Darcy townhouse, frowning. It could be supposed, she thought, that after the recent and horrible events taking place in London, she would dread the city and the very sight of the townhouse. But it wasn't that way. Instead, their town home held what was to her the precious memory of her lost fiance.
    Here, she and Sevrin had sat. There, he had held her hand for the first time, shortly after speaking to her brother of their