| |
The carriage followed the bend in the River Thames that would bring Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy to the last stage of their journey. It was nearing sundown, and the river was flowing in golden ripples. Darcy roused himself reluctantly from his lethargy and kissed the top of Elizabeth’s head. In response, she snuggled closer to him with a little murmur. She was sleeping so sweetly, and she felt so soft against his chest, so warm, he did not have the heart to wake her up.
Their precious time alone together was coming to an end, and they had not even started discussing any of the urgent matters that needed to be dealt with. The trip from Longbourn had passed far too quickly. Not that he could complain. They had used the time well. Elizabeth looked delightfully ruffled, her lips swollen with kisses. A languid contentment spread through him. For the moment, he did not feel frustrated, but being alone with Elizabeth had tested his ability to restrain himself to the extreme.
If only they were not in the middle of a war, he would have spent the time very differently. But then, if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. It was no use dwelling on the impossible.
And there were practical matters to attend to. It was too risky to use magic along this stretch of the river, so close to the Mage’s Hall. There would be spies, and, like hounds, they would scent the slightest whiff of magic coming from the carriage.
Trying not to disturb Elizabeth, Darcy cautiously reached for his cane and knocked at the roof to signal the coachman to stop. He may as well have saved himself the trouble. Elizabeth immediately sat up straight, eyes wide open, fully alert.
“Are we under attack?”
“No, my sweet. It is nothing. I just need to set the carriage down.”
Reassured, she stretched with the grace of a cat. Unable to resist, he leaned forward and kissed her on the nose.
“Are we almost there?”
“Not quite, but too close for comfort. I am sorry for waking you, sweetest Elizabeth, but I need to undo the spell.”
“Which spell?” said Elizabeth, her lip curving upwards seductively, “the one you cast on me to make me fall in love with you?”
“I can never undo that spell,” said Darcy, smiling in response. “And I believe it was you who bewitched me. I did nothing.”
“I seem to recall being dragged back to life by a spell you cast.”
“Oh, that? That was nothing.”
She laughed. “It was hardly nothing. Not for me. You saved me.”
He was embarrassed to acknowledge it. Those few days were like a nightmare to him, best forgotten. She had never asked what he had done to bring her out of her protective cocoon. He hoped he would never have to confess that he had made everything up, on the spot. He would never hear the end of it.
He cleared his throat. “Yes, well. That was then. But now we must take care Napoleon’s mages do not notice us. I would rather arrive at the Hall in one piece.”
Her eyes clouded and she nodded.
Swiftly, he uttered the words to undo the spell and sat back as he felt the spell unravel.
“Be prepared to be hideously jolted,” he said, ordering the coachman to set off again. “We are no longer floating.”
As if to prove his words, the carriage gave a teeth-shattering lurch.
“Oh, I am not worried,” said Elizabeth, her eyes twinkling. “You shall act as my cushion and protect me from the caprices of the road.”
“It will be my pleasure.”
She settled back into her former position. He wrapped his arms around her and leaned backwards against the squabs, treasuring these last moments alone together. Once they reached their destination, the residence of the Royal Mages, they would have little time to themselves. They would have to return to their own training, and Elizabeth would be fully occupied teaching all the other mages her new magical method. They would all be driven to exhaustion.
He set these reflections aside. Time enough to think of these things when they reached Founder’s Hall.
“You told me you have learned the whole of The Compendium of Spells during your absence. Did you memorize the spell I just did?”
“No.” Elizabeth’s brow wrinkled. “I do not recall it being in The Compendium.”
She was remarkable. How did she learn it all so quickly?
“Quite right. It is not in The Compendium.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Are you testing me again, Fitzwilliam Darcy? Do you still want to prove that I have not had a proper education? You will not catch me out, you know.”
“Of course not. I have no intention of trying.”
She sat up and stared at him in disbelief. “But you just did.”
“That was just—”
“—a test.” Her eyes defied him to deny it.
Did he still suspect her abilities? It was possible, but why must she always push and prod and demand answers?
“Very well. I admit it. It was a test, but a very small one.”
“You may as well confess, sir, that you still do not fully trust my abilities.”
“I do not doubt them,” he said, striving to be honest. “But since I do not understand them, I do not know what to make of them. You are an extremely powerful mage. That much is certain.”
She had proven it when it mattered. He had nearly lost her because she had risked everything to save the Hall. He could never let anything like that happen to her again. A surge of fierce tenderness rose up in him. He would protect her with his life.
“Regardless of how I feel about your magic, I hope you can trust me never to let you down. Ever.”
“I know,” she said. There was that smile again, dancing deep within her eyes.
Her faith in him was humbling.
He shuddered. So many things could go wrong. He only hoped his promise would be enough to keep her safe.
***
IT WAS GROWING COOLER as the sun began to set, spreading a cloak of orange across the sky. These were the last days of summer. She was glad she had spent some of the summer in Longbourn, out in the country. It seemed fitting that she was returning to Founder’s Hall as they made the transition to Autumn. She would be indoors most of the time now. She was prepared for it, especially now that Darcy was at her side, but as they drew closer, a prickle of apprehension nagged at her. Mama would no doubt call it her nerves, but Elizabeth had a more common word for it: cold feet. She was not quite ready to step into that brooding Hall.
Oh, Founder’s Hall was beautiful, with its cloisters and old tapestries and the ancient traces of magic that spoke to her, but she had not been happy there. She would be lying if she said she was looking forward to her arrival.
She pushed the somber moment aside. There would be time enough to deal with it when she got there.
“Are you looking forward to your arrival?”
She stared at him. How had Darcy plucked that thought from her mind?
“Must we talk about it? Let us just enjoy the here and now.”
He answered her with a kiss that melted away any uncertainty. He was with her now. They would face the future together.
The landscape was starting to become more familiar. Elizabeth could see the outline of the Richmond Bridge in the distance. That was the patch of woodlands she used to gaze at from her bedchamber. Soon, they would reach the clearing where the deer liked to graze. And here was the area where the river turned again, where Darcy had brought her because she desperately needed to leave the confining walls of Founder’s Hall.
There was a boat on the river now, with a young gentleman rowing while a young lady was reading to him from a book.
“Do you remember our night out on the river?”
He raised his brow. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of the haughty, distant gentleman he had been then.
“How could I forget? You drilled me about Pemberley and shamed me for having so many servants.”
“But you told me about Cuthbert, your Twin, and I began to see there was more to you than the condescending, powerful mage who wanted me to fail.”
He shook his head. “The recollection of my conduct is painful to me. I cannot think of it without abhorrence. You taught me that even good principles can sometimes be twisted by pride and conceit.”
She wished she had not raised the issue. She did not want their time together overshadowed by the past.
“These recollections will not do at all. I can think of other, more pleasant matters to dwell on.”
In response, he drew her more tightly against him. She basked in his warmth, a glow of happiness settling over her like a warm blanket in the chill of the carriage.
“I envy that young couple on the river. What do you think she is reading to him? Do you suppose it’s a book of poems?” asked Elizabeth.
Darcy smiled. “I know it is not The Compendium of Spells.”
“I am beginning to wonder if that is the only book you have ever read.”
“It is the only book that matters.”
He was teasing her, of course. There was a time when she would have believed him, though.
“Don’t you envy them? They do not need to go out under cover of darkness. Here they are, in broad daylight, simply enjoying each other’s company.”
Darcy watched the couple out of the window silently. She could not read his expression at all.
“When did you begin to love me?”
He considered the question.
“It is difficult to determine when I fell in love. I cannot fix the hour. I was in the middle of it before I knew it.”
Then Founder’s Hall appeared in the distance, standing tall and majestic, holding sway over the river. It was a beautiful building. If only it did not evoke bad memories.
“I suppose I will learn it home,” she said, “especially now that I know that Lady Alice Enright will not be there, with her schemes and accusations. She certainly did her best to make my life miserable. Did you miss the Hall?”
“Not really. I missed being in the company of other mages, but I have spent very little time at Founder’s Hall, and during most of it I was barely aware of my surroundings.”
He was thinking of his former Twin, Cuthbert. They had been close childhood friends, and Darcy blamed himself for Cuthbert’s death. Darcy had not been happy at Founder’s Hall either.
“I am sorry. I did not intend to drudge up painful memories.”
“Thankfully, these memories do not have the power to destroy me as they once did. If you had not appeared in my life, I would not have cared about anything other than getting revenge.”
She smiled, but his mind was turning in another direction.
“I cannot pretend that things will be easy between us. The shadow of Cuthbert’s death still hangs over me, in a very real way. It affected the way I reacted to the attack.”
Ah. They were coming to this.
“When Redmond was in danger, I was unable to help him. All I could think of was Cuthbert’s death. I crumpled, Elizabeth, at the crucial moment.”
It was awkward to see a gentleman who was so proud talk about such things. She could imagine how much it had cost him to make such an admission. The raw pain in his eyes plucked at her heartstrings. It was a measure of his love for her that he was willing to confide in her.
She put a hand to his cheek.
“You were attacked by a Conjurer. You know very well that they can draw on your fears and use them against you. That is how they destroy you. Unfortunately, they are very good at what they do. You are being hard on yourself.”
She bit back the breezy rejoinder that was on the tip of her tongue. She was uncomfortable with the conversation, but Darcy was not yet finished.
“At the crucial moment,” he said, “my courage failed me. I allowed the Conjurer’s illusions to overpower me. Both Redmond and I would have been killed if you had not intervened. I was unable to protect him.”
His voice was hoarse. His Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed deeply. She wanted to reassure him again, but she sensed that it was better to let him have his say.
“Even during the battle, I sensed your indomitable spirit. Your courage under the stress of battle was awe-inspiring.”
“I don’t know if you can call it courage. I had little choice. I was shivering like a leaf when we were waiting for the attack to begin. My so-called courage was little more than a façade.”
He looked away, far over the river to the horizon.
“There is little difference between a façade and reality if it gives you the courage to do what you did.”
She took his right hand between her own.
“The enemy mage was able to use your past against you. Unlike you, I came to the battle without memories to haunt me. You were just recovering from the loss of a dear childhood friend. Grief, like fear, can be turned against you in the wrong hands.”
“Nevertheless, I should not have allowed my personal experiences to intrude at such a crucial moment.”
“You did not. It was forced upon you. They targeted you. They knew who to attack. They left me alone because they did not know me. They will not make the same mistake again. Next time, they will come after me first. You and I will have to be prepared for that.”
He started at her words, and his arm tightened around her shoulder protectively.
“Meanwhile, you cannot allow yourself to be consumed by guilt. Everyone played their part. I might have died, too, if you had not helped me. And at least your predicament helped us form our magical Bond. If the situation had been any less dire, we might have gone our separate ways and never known that we could be Janus twins. So, I for one cannot wish that moment undone.”
The haunted expression on his face began to disappear, to be replaced by determination.
“The important thing is to learn from it.” She had thought about this while she was away, and she was glad of an opportunity to say it. “None of us can afford to be arrogant. The French mages are more powerful and more flexible than us. We have to find new ways to counter them.”
He nodded and sat up straighter, his expression now full of resolution.
“You are the key, Elizabeth. Uncle Matlock has said it, and he is right.”
“That is terrifying. It places a huge burden on my shoulders.”
She said it lightly, but he did not smile.
“I have lived with that burden for many years.”
“Then we can share it.”
His expression remained tight.
“I should warn you. Some members of the Council will still oppose you, perhaps more than before, because they will refuse to believe Lady Alice capable of such duplicity. They may still believe you to be a traitor.”
She sighed and snuggled closer. “I know. I have no illusions. She has a faction that follow her blindly, and they will be against me. I know what to expect. You have to remember it has never been easy for me.”
“Much of it was my fault. I was a perfect jackass when we first met.” He grimaced. “I hope I have improved since then.”
She lifted her head from his chest to grin at him. “Definitely.”
“Definitely what? That I was an ass, or that I improved?”
She tilted her head as if considering it.
“Hmm. Let me see. I would say a bit of both.”
“I was hoping you would say something more complimentary than that.”
“Just because I love you, it does not mean I am completely blind to your faults.”
“That is unfortunate, especially since I cannot think of a single fault in you.”
***
THE CARRIAGE CAME TO a halt. Darcy had ordered the coachman to stop when they reached the edge of the woods as a precautionary measure. They would soon be reaching the Wards that surrounded Founder’s Hall, and they needed to approach slowly, in case they had been moved, or altered in a way that excluded them.
Their interlude together had come to an end. Reluctant to let her go, he brushed his lips against her hair. The aroma of roses and lavender enveloped him.
“Your scent drives me to distraction.” He nuzzled against her for one last minute, then let her go. “We need to prepare ourselves for our arrival.”
His voice suddenly turned so stiff and formal, he was not surprised that Elizabeth chuckled and made a point of sitting on the opposite seat.
“Do I look presentable enough?” She patted her hair and put on a haughty expression.
He laughed, noting with some satisfaction that she did not look at all presentable.
“Not in the least, Mrs. Darcy.”
She did look beautiful, however, in her moss green travel gown, her eyes full of life, her auburn hair aflame in the orange glow of the sun. He reached over to tuck in a few curls that had come loose, but he could not resist testing her reaction as he brushed the back of his hand down the soft skin of her neck.
She gave a little shiver. He loved how easily she responded to him.
“Maybe we can delay our arrival a little?” Moving to the other seat to be next to her, he considered using his lips to trace the same line his fingers had taken.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, you must stop at once.” She slid down to the end of the seat, out of the reach of his hands. “What will the coachman think?”
Without the steady rhythm of the horse’s hooves, the coachman could undoubtedly hear them. Darcy came back down to earth and began to tug at his cravat.
“Do I look presentable?” he said, echoing her earlier question.
Elizabeth leaned over and rearranged the curls that fell over his brow, then ran her fingers across through his hair.
“Is this strictly necessary?”
“It is neither strict nor necessary, but it is enjoyable.”
It was nearly impossible to drag himself away from her, but somehow, he managed to do it. He moved to the opposite seat and signaled the coachman to move forward slowly, as he had been instructed earlier.
“Are you ready?”
“Not really. I am shaking in my half-boots to think of stepping again inside Founder’s Hall. Promise me, Darcy, that you will not allow anyone to come between us.”
He had already promised, but he would do so again.
“I promise,” he said fiercely.
But Elizabeth was no longer listening. Her eyes widened, and she jumped up in the carriage, hitting her head.
“Did you feel that?” At the urgency in her voice, he grew fully alert, prepared to use his magic.
“What do you feel?”
“We need to leave the carriage. Now!”
She was already releasing the catch and swinging the door open. “There are Imperial mages close by, and they are about to attack.”