He took her face in his hands and said, ‘I would gladly swap eternity for one moment with you.’

She gave a long, shuddering sigh, and then he kissed her, a slow lingering kiss, a honeyed meeting of mouths and hearts and spirits, and when he let her go she knew there was no turning back.

She stepped unwillingly out of his arms and went upstairs to fetch her cloak. As she did so, she caught sight of her writing table. She hesitated and then sat down and began writing quickly, in an uneven hand.

My dearest Jane,

I have written you many letters during the course of my honeymoon, expecting them all to be sent, and yet none of them were ever posted. This letter I write hoping it will never leave my writing desk, unless I throw it into the fire at last, but I am going into danger and I mean to give my maid instructions to post this letter if I do not return.

Oh, Jane! If I could only tell you half the things that have happened to me since leaving Longbourn. There have been many difficult and frightening things in my life, but there has been much of great beauty, too: the dread and aweful majesty of the Alps as Darcy and I rode over their snow-capped heights; the peaceful tranquillity of Piedmont; the great river Brenta with its weeping willows trailing their branches in the water; Venice rising like a dream from the lagoon, basking in the morning sunlight, ageless and timeless and serene. And the people: Philippe with his gallantry and Gustav with his irrepressible good humour, and Sophia with her ancient dresses and her love for her city. And her memories: the rise of the merchant princes; the building of the palaces; the creation of the sculptures; the paintings and the poetry; the journeys of the great explorers; the triumphs of Marco Polo with whom she spoke and danced. Yes, Jane, she knew him, and she still sings and dances, though he has long since turned to dust. She is a custodian of all things past, she and others like her, and my dear Darcy is a custodian too—a custodian, a guardian, and a protector: one of the timeless ones. My dearest Darcy is a vampyre. And yet he intends to rid himself of his curse and his blessing for me.

He is going on a dark and dangerous path and I am going with him. How long we will be away I do not know, nor if we will ever return. But I love him with all my heart and where he goes, I go. Think of me often if you never see me again, and call one of your children after me! Not your firstborn; she must be Jane like her mother, but the second, unless it is a boy and then Elizabeth will not do!

Oh, Jane, how good it is to talk to you, even though you are so far away. Even in a dark and dangerous time, I feel lighter of spirit just thinking of you.

I must go. I hear the horses below. But I could not leave without letting you know the truth of my life. If I return, I might never tell you. But if I die in some underground chamber then it will comfort me to think that you will know the truth, you who have always known everything about me, and that you will know the truth about my dearest Darcy, too.

And now, my dearest, most beloved sister,

Adieu.

She called for Annie and gave her the letter, which she had sealed and on which she had written Jane’s direction.

‘Annie, I must speak to you about a matter of great importance. Mr Darcy and I are going on a journey and there may be danger ahead. If we do not return within a week, I want you to post this letter to my sister. Post it with your own hand, Annie. Let no one else touch it.’

‘I will, Ma’am, I promise you,’ said Annie, taking the letter.

‘In the meantime, you must stay here and look after the lodge whilst we are away. If neither I nor Mr Darcy return, then you must take passage to England. There is money in the drawer of my dressing table and you are to have it all. Mr Darcy’s valet will go with you, and he will know how to make the arrangements. Go to my uncle in Gracechurch Street, you will find his direction in my writing desk, and he will help you.’

‘But what am I to tell him?’ asked Annie in concern.

‘Tell him…’ Elizabeth paused. ‘…tell him that we went on a journey and that we did not return. Tell him that the area was infested with bandits and that we must have met with an accident or violence in the hills.’ The sound of horses’ hooves and the wheels of a cart came up from below. ‘And now I must go.’

She put on her pelisse and cloak, changed into sturdy boots, and pulled on a pair of gloves, and then she ran downstairs. She went into the sitting room where she found Darcy.

He was dressed in outdoor clothes. His caped greatcoat was thrown over his tailcoat and breeches, and he wore riding boots on his feet. He was looking down at something he held in his hand and there was a look of unexpected pleasure on his face, his handsome features arranged in a smile.

On hearing her enter the room, he held his hand out to her and she saw that it contained a letter. Her heart jumped as she recognised it and she smiled all over her face. It was the letter she had written to Jane whilst she was being driven off in the Prince’s carriage.

‘The servants found it just where you threw it,’ said Darcy.

‘Thank goodness! Now Jane will not be burdened with those troubles, at least.’

‘No, those troubles are over,’ said Darcy.

‘It is a good omen!’ she said. ‘I thought I would never escape that perilous situation and yet I did, and if such a hopeless situation turned out so well, could not another less hopeless situation turn out well also?’

‘Indeed it could, it can, and it will!’ said Darcy. ‘Elizabeth, we were meant to be together. We will rid ourselves of this burden and we will be what we were always meant to be.’

She took his hands and her eyes danced.

‘Just think, before long, we may be walking together in the grounds at Pemberley, or visiting Jane and Bingley at Netherfield and walking in the lanes thereabouts, the four of us together, happy and safe, with a blossoming future to look forward to instead of one full of fear and dread.’

‘Then let us be on our way,’ he said.

They went outside to find that Nicolei was already in the back of the cart, whilst his son, Georgio, was sitting on the box ready to drive it. Darcy’s horse stood close by.

‘Will you ride with me?’ he asked Elizabeth.

Elizabeth gladly mounted in front of him, feeling safe with him at her back despite the horse’s restiveness, and they set off for the ruin.

Chapter 17

The way to the ruin lay along sleepy lanes bordered by olive groves and vineyards. Despite the circumstances, Elizabeth took pleasure in her surroundings and in the steady trot of the horse and in the feel of Darcy’s arms around her as he held the reins. He rode well, with an experience born of a lifetime in the saddle, and guided his horse with no more than a gentle pressure of the heel every now and again or a slight movement of the reins. Elizabeth, who was an indifferent horsewoman, thought how different it was to see the world from horseback when she did not have to guide the animal herself.

They passed citrus trees and red-roofed houses and always, on their left hand side, lay the calm blue waters of the sea.

After awhile Darcy turned inland and the cart followed as they traversed a narrow country lane. Some twenty minutes later they left the lane and turned off onto a rough track. It climbed a hill, and once at its summit, Elizabeth could look down to see a ruin far below. It was set in a grassy hollow and it was flanked to the east by the cliff wall and to the west by a further steep drop to the sea. Stretching great branches over it was an old and gnarled tree.

The light was fading as the horse picked its way down the hill and the cart rumbled along behind. As they drew closer she could see that the ruin was large with arched doorways that had fallen in and a collapsed roof. Partial walls still stood, and beneath them lay the stones which had fallen. Long grasses grew between the stones and wildflowers ran riot through them.

Darcy brought his horse to a halt by the side of the ruin and dismounted, then lifted Elizabeth from the saddle, and beside them the cart too rolled to a halt. He tethered the horse to the lower branches of the tree and it began to nibble the grass.

Darcy looked with some apprehension towards the horizon. The sun was beginning to set, spreading bands of red across the sky. He walked briskly towards the ruin, stepping over its tumbled stone walls and striding across its broken floor until he reached a point beyond one of the door arches and stood looking about him, as if trying to recall a distant memory. He walked a few steps further forwards and then knelt down, parting the long grasses that had grown through the tumbled stones in an effort to find the way down.

Elizabeth watched him, and as the sun’s colours became more vibrant and more splendid, he started to change. He was no longer entirely solid. His outline was shimmering in the evening light, giving him an ethereal quality, and as she watched in fear and wonderment she saw him becoming transparent. As he faded, she had a sudden urge to reach out and touch him. To her relief, he felt real. She could rest her hand on his shoulder and feel the muscle beneath, but she had the uncanny feeling that if he lost any more form, her hand could slip straight through.

He gave a sudden cry, saying, ‘Here!’ and she pulled her hand back as he began to tug more vigorously at the grasses, ripping them up in huge handfuls to reveal the dark passage into the earth that lay beneath.

Georgio left the cart, where he had been seeing to the horse, and went to help him, his large brawny muscles making quick work of the debris that was clogging the opening. Once it had been cleared, Elizabeth saw a ramp leading down into the bowels of the earth. It was very dark, and the end of the ramp could not be seen. Georgio went back to the cart and returned with torches. He lit them, first one for Elizabeth and then one for Darcy, and then he went over to his father and helped him out of the cart. Nicolei leaned on his arm and together the four of them proceeded cautiously down the ramp, with Darcy leading the way.

They found themselves in an underground passage with a low roof. Strange shadows flickered on the walls and the drip, drip of water could be heard. Down went the ramp. Down and down. Then, just as Elizabeth thought she could stand the confined space no longer, the ramp led into the cellar, where a few bottles of wine were still lying on a wooden rack, coated thickly with dust.

Darcy went forwards slowly, motioning her to stay back. The reason for this soon became clear. In the floor towards the end of the cellar was a gaping black hole where the floor had caved in.

‘There must have been a disturbance of the earth some time ago which damaged the foundations and brought the building down,’ said Darcy. He looked down into the hole, holding his torch low the better to see. ‘This bit will not be easy,’ he said to Elizabeth and Nicolei. ‘Are you still determined to come?’

‘I am,’ said Elizabeth.

‘I too,’ said Nicolei.

Darcy gave a reluctant nod. Then, handing his torch to Georgio, he lowered himself into the hole.

There was silence, with only the steady drip, drip to mark the passage of time. Then Darcy’s voice called up, ‘It’s all right, you can come down.’

Elizabeth sat on the side of the hole and then gingerly lowered herself down, with Darcy catching hold of her and helping her to finish her descent.

She found herself in an underground cavern which was lit by a weird green light, and she felt a sense of awe as she looked about her, taking in the sublime remnant of antiquity. The temple was large and circular. Roman columns, grooved and topped with elaborate scrollwork, could dimly be seen in the shadows, ringing the temple at the eight points of the compass. Most of them were still standing, but two had fallen and lay broken on the floor. Within that ring, six statues were set, all made of marble, standing on plinths that made them some twelve feet high. She walked round, holding her torch aloft, and upon examining them, she found that they were similar to the statues she had seen in museums when visiting her aunt and uncle in London, portraying as they did the old Roman gods. Behind her, Darcy and Georgio, with great difficulty, managed to lower Nicolei through the hole.