Page 120 of The Diary of the Vam'pir Jacques

“You made Elizabeth’s choice?” James said, his whole posture showing tension—and a strongly controlled hatred.

I nodded.

“Have you come to gloat?” I asked bitterly.

“No. I have just spent the last two hours listening to Eliza rant. Eliza loves you as much as me. God knows why. I can’t see what she or Caroline saw in you. But there must be something. You can’t be completely shallow like I believed.”

“Everybody sees different things in people,” I answered, sitting down.

My body was tense and stiff, mirroring James’s own body language.

“I’m prepared to allow Eliza to visit you, however much that goes against my feelings. I cannot stop Eliza, and to do so would be very wrong. Elizabeth is a grown woman, and I fear she might end up hating me. If you become her lover, I do not wish to know about it. Do youunderstand?”

I nodded, too afraid to say anything in case James took his offer back.

He turned and left without a backward glance. That very night I searched Elizabeth out and, making sure she was alone, I visited her. We made love in a fever, and she clutched me as if she would never let go.

I wasn’t Elizabeth’s first—I imagine James was—but it didn’t matter.

I indeed watched Elizabeth grow old, and I enjoyed life with her. Elizabeth broke off the engagement to James, but it was clear that they remained lovers, as well as friends. Elizabeth accepted Julia’s inheritance and received several marriageproposals over time but refused them all. She became quite a scandal over the years with her two lovers. Barrington stated countless times that he couldn’t understand her.

In order to spare Barrington embarrassment, Elizabeth moved into Julia’s townhouse and hired Lilly as a companion. Barrington informed me he had ordered Elizabeth to pick one or the other.

While not angry, Barrington was confused as to our intentions. I once informed him I had released Elizabeth from any hold my love held on her and sent her into James’s arms. But Elizabeth’s heart had broken, and James had discovered a resolution.

Elizabeth loved both of us and we were happy to share her life. Barrington wasn’t, and he told her to make a choice. In response, Elizabeth moved into Julia’s house. That angered Barrington even further, and he claimed we had made him the laughingstock of London. I fought several duels over snide comments concerning Elizabeth and him.

In the end, people shut up, or they found themselves confronting me. I wasn’t afraid of them or public opinion.

Finally, the gossip died down and Elizabeth and Barrington were invited to places again. The invites caused me to laugh; they were often addressed to ‘Elizabeth and Guest.’

Nobody quite knew what to put, and so they allowed Elizabeth to answer with which one of us was coming.

To put facts bluntly, a woman couldn’t act the way Elizabeth did, not in our society. There was enough power between the Barringtons, Barrington’s young wife, and our friends that it was soon overlooked. If you included the influence of the Hamiltons and me, people decided Elizabeth wasn’t worth shunning.

Elizabeth did receive snide and nasty comments, mainly from those who had fancied James or me as husband material. She shrugged and ignored them. Elizabeth had made her decision,and now she must stand by it. She’d told James and I that repeatedly whenever we got fired up on her behalf.

Deep down, though, I think Elizabeth enjoyed becoming a scandal and still keeping her popularity. After the initial excitement died down, we settled into a system where I would see her for three nights and James for the next three. James and I never actually rubbed it in people’s faces that we shared the same woman.

We were very discreet about our comings and goings, for Elizabeth’s sake.

I even managed to hold on to my friendship with Barrington after a few arguments. It wasn’t easy at first. Eventually, we overcame it and got back on good terms with each other.

I made it clear I loved Elizabeth and would not harm a hair on her head. Barrington became resigned to the situation. Even so, Barrington would have been happy for Elizabeth to decide between the two of us.

Over the years, we shared laughter and tears. Elizabeth grew older, and yet I never did make the offer to change her again. She knew the offer remained but never once brought it up.

Then, one night in 1915, I walked to her house and was surprised to see James there. James waved for me to enter as I went to leave.

I approached Elizabeth’s bed in fear, and there was a cold shaking within me. I couldn’t say how, but I guessed Elizabeth was seriously sick.

“Elizabeth has pneumonia,” James said as an explanation of his being present.

Anxiously gazing down, I saw her pale, sleeping face and knew Elizabeth wouldn’t recover. I sank to my knees beside the bed and took her hand. Elizabeth stirred faintly and then settled back into sleep.

“How long has Elizabeth had it?” I whispered.

“Four nights. She had a cold but neglected it.”

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