Page 75 of The Lost Prophecy

“Bowls should understand hierarchy.”

Mr Darcy approached Elizabeth and the bowl with equal caution. “It is an ancient relic belonging to my family. It was used in ceremonies of law and binding long before anyone in this room was born.”

“How old is it?”

“We do not know. It was dormant for centuries.”

“Until it met me.”

“Yes. We believe it recognised the True Blood.”

Elizabeth ran one finger along the rim. “It carried a knife to my room.”

Mr Darcy’s mouth tightened. “I am aware.”

“Why?”

“We have not discovered that.”

“It may have decided that she was the only one at Netherfield insufficiently armed,” Mr Hurst guessed.

“It also followed me through the corridor and attempted to hide in Jane’s room.”

“It has developed preferences,” Mrs Hurst observed.

Miss Bingley folded her arms. “It has developed insolence.”

The bowl leaned closer to Elizabeth, apparently seeking protection from criticism. She held it more securely and felt the absurdity of finding comfort in an enchanted vessel while surrounded by confessed vampires.

Charlotte touched its outer curve with one cautious finger. The bowl permitted the contact but offered no joy. “It is sentient.”

“To a limited and inconvenient degree,” Mr Darcy confirmed.

“Does it drink blood?”

The bowl vibrated against Elizabeth’s arms.

“No,” Mr Darcy responded quickly. “At least, it has not done so within living memory.”

“That qualification was unnecessary,” Mr Bingley complained.

“It was accurate, though.”

Elizabeth lowered the bowl to the carpet. It remained against her skirts rather than rolling away.

“I shall help you.” She addressed Mr Darcy, but every vampire in the room stilled. “I shall attend the ball, permit Mr Wickham to approach me, and assist you in obtaining the evidence you require, but I will not do so blindly.”

Mr Darcy stepped closer. “State your conditions.”

“You will tell me the complete plan before the first guest arrives. No one will use compulsion against me, my family, Charlotte, or any other guest. No vampire will drink my blood, however freely anyone claims I offered it in a moment I cannot remember. Mr Wickham will not be permitted near Jane, Lydia, Kitty or Mary, and if I order the plan stopped, you will remove me and my family from Netherfield.”

“Agreed.”

“I require more than your agreement. You have all offered your honour. I accept it only if it binds you to everyone who enters this house, not merely to those you value.”

Mr Darcy placed one hand over his chest. “On my honour, no guest will be sacrificed to this plan. If Wickham threatens anyone, the trap ends and we act.”

Mr Bingley repeated the promise without hesitation. Mr Hurst followed, his customary mockery absent. Mrs Hurst and Miss Bingley offered the same oath, standing side by side before the sofa.