“Sleep was no temptation for him. He didn’t desire it. He didn’t even feel he needed it anymore. What he wanted was a little time in Her Ladyship’s study. Alone. Alone wouldn’t be so simple, however. Not with Anne roaming the house and grounds at all hours. That night, after a long game of piquet in the drawing room (the usual round of Crypts and Coffins being, under the circumstances, in poor taste), she’d asked if he’d accompany her on another of her nighttime strolls. He’d declined. Being... treated like a candy cane by a walking corpse had cured him of any desire to wander around out of doors, he explained. Perhaps tomorrow he’d be in the mood again. Anne had nodded and patted his hand and said, “I understand,” in a strangely patronizing kind of way, as if being licked by zombies was simply an acquired taste and she felt sad for—and a little superior to—those prudes who couldn’t yet appreciate it. Then they’d exchanged good-nights, and Darcy went to his room ... where he stood now, propped against the door, listening intently for any sound.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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