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Three days passed, and nothing had changed in Bingley’s condition. Netherfield, however, continued to improve, thanks to the combined efforts of all the Academy members. Maidens’ Hall had been set up in the East Wing, which was an intense relief. Mrs. Granger, who was the official Chaperone in Founder’s Hall, was put in charge of the young ladies. The thorny issue was finding someone to replace Lady Alice as Mistress. There were only eleven unmarried young ladies currently in residence, and for the moment it was not justifiable to drag someone away from their duties to live out here in the middle of nowhere. Eventually, the Council would have to address the issue, but until they brought in new apprentices, there was no particular urgency to do this.
By the end of the day, Deans’ Hall would also be completed on the East side. All the members of the Council already had bedchambers of their own. Darcy already had his own, but he was still waiting for the carpenters to make him a cupboard. Darcy expected that in another three days, the bulk of the work of preparing Netherfield to be inhabited should be completed.
It would be a huge relief not to be devoting a large chunk of his day to ordering the apprentices to move furniture, set up curtains, or polishing silver and crystal chandeliers. The apprentices hated the work, which they considered beneath them. One of the apprentices had even sent an express to his father to complain. Fortunately, Lord Creswell favored the discipline of exercise for boys. He had sent an express letter back, hoping that they would soon be organizing a cricket team which would do the boys some good.
It was not a bad idea. Darcy paused in his training to look out of the window at the Netherfield gardens. He had found a good spot yesterday when he was working on the Wards. Perhaps when the grounds were fully Warded, a cricket team might be a good idea. There was plenty of space for it. They would have to clear the weeds, of course, but that would have to be done anyway. The boys might even be willing to do it if they knew it was for a pitch.
Darcy had a vision of a warm June day with white tents and an audience applauding as the boys played. He and Elizabeth would stroll arm in arm, stopping to chat every now and then, and check the score. They would eat strawberries and drink tea. Elizabeth would twirl her parasol and cheer the apprentices. He might even be able to steal a kiss under the cover of some trees if no one was looking.
The image was so incongruous, he almost dismissed it, but there was nothing to stop him from doing that, not really. It seemed unthinkable now, with all the work that needed to be completed, but Darcy decided he might suggest cricket to the Council once everything settled.
Bingley had told him once he was the captain of his cricket team at school. If he recovered sufficiently, he could be in charge.
Darcy shook his head. These were dreams of living a normal life. There were cricket teams in some of the Academies, but they did not compete. How would they even bring another team here when they had to keep their presence secret? It was better not to have such dreams. That way he would not be disappointed.
***
DARCY FINISHED HIS training and went to his room to change before the Council meeting. It was his third one since he had become a member, and he still was not sure if it was the right decision.
It was infinitely frustrating to discover how Elizabeth was referred to. Despite the fact that she was his wife, more than one member persisted in calling her ‘the Bennet girl’, even in his presence, using a tone which implied she was to blame for everything that had befallen them. It was a struggle not to react to the insult, but his uncle had warned him that if he hoped to change anything, he had to learn diplomacy.
It was a trait that did not come easily to him. He abhorred pretense of any kind, but for Elizabeth’s sake, if nothing else, he had to find a way to win them over. If it meant watching his tongue, then so be it. He could not wear his heart on his sleeve. Much as he had to learn not to speak what was on his mind.
As Evans was shaving Darcy, there was a knock at the door.
“See who it is, Evans, will you?”
Evans went to the door.
“It’s a lady, sir. Lady Hazelmere.”
“Please have her wait a minute while you finish.”
Evans relayed the message and returned. Darcy submitted impatiently to the shaving, his mind racing with possibilities. He jumped up the moment Evans wiped off the shaving soap and rushed to the door to jerk it open.
“My apologies, Lady Hazelmere.”
“No need to apologize, Mr. Darcy. I would not wish to intrude on you in a state of déshabillé.”
“Nothing so scandalous, I assure you, Lady Hazelmere. My man was shaving me.”
“Well then, I have a surprise visitor for you.”
Smiling, Lady Hazelmere turned to look behind her and put out her hand. Bingley stepped forward and took it. She led him into the room.
Darcy’s spirits soared, then plummeted again as Bingley smiled at him. It was the same vacant smile. Still, he was on his feet and although he seemed thinner, he otherwise looked like his usual self.
“Bingley, this is excellent news! You are up and about!”
Bingley did not react. Darcy could only hope Bingley could actually hear him.
“He is eager to move around.” Lady Hazelmere was looking very pleased with herself, though Darcy did not suppose she could take the credit for his recovery. Still, the Healers had been taking care of him, and he could not deny their role.
“How is his condition?”
“He has lost some of his strength. The Healers will take it in turns walking him around to help him recover his legs. Otherwise, he seems quite healthy.”
“I am delighted you can move around, Bingley.” It occurred to him that Bingley might find it confusing to wake up in a strange place. He took his arm and guided him to the window.
“Look, we are in the countryside. That hill over there is called Oakham Mount.” Darcy thought of Elizabeth. “This house is called Netherfield Park.”
Bingley stared out of the window.
“Shall we get back to the Healer’s Hall, Bingley?” Lady Hazelmere put out her hand again to him. “Your legs must be getting tired by now.”
Bingley gave no sign of hearing her. Darcy was not sure if Bingley did not want to go back, or if he simply did not understand what she was saying. It could be a problem if Bingley took no notice of Lady Hazelmere and wandered wherever he wished. How much did he register of what was happening around him?
They would not know unless they tested it. “Come with me, Bingley. I will take you back to Healer’s Hall.”
Darcy began to walk to the door. To his delight, Bingley followed.
“He understands me.”
“It is too soon to tell. We will have to see if he can follow instructions. If it were a head injury, I would be able to give you more of an idea, though even head injuries do not follow a set path. In Mr. Bingley’s case I have no idea what to expect.”
Darcy began to walk in the direction of the Healer’s Hall and Bingley followed. Several people stopped to offer congratulations for his recovery, but then continued on their way as they discovered he did not seem to understand what they were saying.
Bingley followed Darcy until they reached Healer’s Hall, but he stopped at the door, even though Darcy went in.
“Come on, Bingley,” said Darcy, briskly. “You need to rest for a while. You can come and see me again later.”
But Bingley refused to go in.
“It is a good sign.” Lady Hazelmere gave Darcy an encouraging smile. “It means he knows where he is.”
“Yes, it is a very good sign, but how are we to convince him to stay in the Healer’s Hall?”
“Perhaps a change of scene will do him good. We can set him up in one of the bedchambers. The only problem is that someone will need to supervise him. We cannot have him wandering around everywhere. He might harm himself. Or he might even open the door and go astray in the countryside.”
Darcy thought of his own bedchamber, and Elizabeth’s upset at discovering Darcy did not want an adjoining room. Perhaps there was a good reason for it after all.
“We can set up a bed in my bedchamber. I cannot guarantee he will not leave when I am asleep, but I am not a deep sleeper.”
“Would you do that?” Lady Hazelmere brightened. “I confess I have been worried about it. I was considering assigning a footman to him, but everyone is occupied. We can take turns with him during the day, but at least we would not have to worry about the night.”
Darcy nodded. “Good. I will give the orders.”
“Thank you. That is one problem solved, at least. Now we will have to see where he wishes to go next.”
“Leave it to me, Lady Hazelmere. I have an idea where to take him. I will do my best to convince him to come back here afterwards. Meanwhile, you deserve a rest.”
“I could do with one. I will go and see if I can find a cup of tea somewhere. It is so hard to know where everything is. Everything keeps getting changed around.”
As she walked away, Darcy turned to his friend.
“Come Bingley. We will go and find Elizabeth. She will be delighted to see you up on your feet, walking around. What do you think?”
Bingley seemed happy enough to follow Darcy, who kept up a one-sided conversation until they reached the library.
Elizabeth was seated at a table that had been set up for her, surrounded by books as usual. Spotting Bingley behind Darcy, she jumped up and rushed over.
“Mr. Bingley!”
Darcy gave her a warning signal, and she stopped and looked at him with a question in her eyes.
“I think he understands some of the things we say,” said Darcy, by way of explanation.
“Well then.” Her voice had a brittle cheer to it. “Why don’t you both come and help me sort out some books?”
***
DARCY MANAGED TO LEAVE Bingley with Elizabeth and hurried to attend the Council meeting. Naturally, Darcy was late, but at least he could give them the good news.
“Excellent,” said Matlock. “Hopefully he can continue to improve, and we can put that whole situation behind us.”
Darcy seized the moment to indirectly reinforce his support of Elizabeth. “Yes, I am very much looking forward to receiving a full explanation from him about what happened.”
He wished he could be more specific, but there was no knowing what Bingley would say if and when he recovered.
“We have a new member today, which will bring us to nine members. Those of you who were not here for the discussion, when we decided to split in two from the traditional twelve, we decided six members were too few to make discussion useful, and that even numbers led to too many ties in the vote. Our problem was finding enough members who would also be a positive contribution in one way or the other.
“I am pleased to announce we have managed to persuade Mr. Pickering to join us on the Council. He needs no introduction, of course. He is one of the most scholarly and powerful mages in the Kingdom, and it is an honor and privilege to have him here with us. I am sure we will benefit a great deal from his wisdom.”
When Darcy was still an apprentice, Pickering had visited the Academy and given a talk about the history of The Compendium. He was a known recluse, preferring to live amongst his books, researching and writing. He had of course aged since Darcy had last seen him. He was thinner and more stooped, his long white hair was flowing loosely over his shoulders, his pointed snowy beard extending to his stomach. He still wore the same outdated clothes: the formal scarlet robes of the Royal Mages complete with stockings and buckled shoes.
The Council must have exerted a fair amount of pressure on him to join. Perhaps they had even conscripted him, as they had with Elizabeth. These were difficult times, and everyone had to play their role. Darcy was glad it was Pickering they had chosen.
Several of the members turned to Pickering to welcome him. Matlock waited for the conversation to start dying down, then called for silence.
“I have called a meeting because I have important news. I know we have all been waiting for this. We have, in fact, discussed it endlessly. But now we have finally decided what to do with de Riquer, the Imperial mage Darcy heroically captured.”
Everyone turned to look at Darcy. There was nothing heroic about his actions. He had done very little. They should be praising Elizabeth for saving their sorry hides.
“I could not have done it without the help of my wife,” he said firmly.
His words were ignored. No one wanted to hear about her role.
“We have decided to bring him here. His transport has been arranged, and he will be arriving in ten days. I have been consulting with our other Council members in London, and we all agree that since Darcy is our most powerful Warder, it is our safest course of action to give Darcy the responsibility of restraining him.”
The words jolted Darcy. He wished Matlock had not sprung this on him without talking to him about it first. He had put him in an impossible situation. Darcy was a powerful mage, but he could not possibly do this alone.
“I cannot work alone on something of this importance. It was one thing controlling his magic when he was injured, but now that he has regained his full power, it would be sheer arrogance to believe I can accomplish this task alone. I may be a powerful mage, but my power has for many years been Bonded to Cuthbert’s.”
He brushed aside the grief that surfaced as he said the name.
“You take my power for granted, but you are forgetting that I currently cannot act as a Janus Mage because I have no official Twin. My uncle informs me that the Council refuses to sanction my Bond with Elizabeth. How do you set up Wards against a powerful enemy mage alone? I will not take responsibility if I am asked to cast magic with less than half my capacity as a Janus Mage.”
George Devereux spoke up. There was something about his grey eyes and jutting jaw that had always annoyed Darcy. Or perhaps it was just his mulish manner.
“You do have a Twin. It is Lord Redmond. You have an official Bond. A Janus Mage by definition has only one Twin. That is the meaning of the word Twin.”
Devereux looked around the room with a smug expression, as if to say that Darcy had no leg to stand on.
An icy anger gripped Darcy. “I see you have knowledge I am not privy to. You must have found Redmond hiding somewhere in Netherfield. Perhaps he is Cloaked? Because it so happens I detect no trace of him in this building. Has anyone else here seen him? Am I the only one incapable of doing so? And for your information, Twins can be more than two. That is the concept of triplets.”
“Triplets are not Twins. Twins are double. And the Roman god Janus only has two faces, not three.”
He would have continued for some time along the same vein, but Matlock broke in.
“We can argue semantics all day, but the fact is, Darcy is not a Janus Mage if Redmond is not here to set up a Bond.”
“It is much more serious than that. Redmond has abdicated his responsibilities.” Why did everyone keep insisting that Redmond was a better choice than Elizabeth? It was true that Darcy was the one who had asked the Council for an alternative, but that was when Lady Alice had cast a spell preventing Elizabeth from accessing her power.
But Devereux was still determined to make a point of his own. “Did you ever pause to think that he might have been made to feel unwelcome? Particularly after what happened to Lady Alice? She is his aunt, after all.”
“My uncle has written to him three times to ask him to join us here in Netherfield. He has not even had the decency to respond.”
“You are both right in different ways.” Lord Sudbury interceded. “You must take into consideration that he is only a child. He does not understand such matters.”
Lord Sudbury had always struck Darcy as the voice of reason. He was particularly good at presenting both sides of an argument. But his attempt to find a balance in this case fell flat.
“The Academy trained him to understand these matters. When you selected him as my Twin, you believed him capable of playing the role. Now you excuse him by saying he is a child. You cannot have it both ways.”
Darcy really did not want to continue this argument about Redmond. He did not dislike Redmond. The boy would eventually grow into a powerful mage, though Darcy had doubts about his ability to fight in battle. But in the here and now, his concern was Elizabeth, not Redmond.
“If any of you are able to convince Redmond to return, I would welcome him. He is my Twin, and we have Bonded. However, that is not the issue at present. The issue is that we have a dangerous prisoner we need to deal with. I really wish someone had consulted me before making a decision to bring de Riquer here.”
He remembered the conversation he and his uncle had at Matlock House. Had Darcy implicitly agreed to it? He might have, but he had not known at the time that he would not be permitted to Bond with Elizabeth.
He looked around the room. “We have a French captive who will be coming here shortly, and I cannot take on the responsibility of building the Wards to contain him, not alone.”
It seemed Devereux was not going to allow Darcy to get away with anything. He had been like that when they were apprentices at the Academy. He had always loved to pick fights and argue for the sake of it.
“You are not alone. There are three other Warders here.”
“Younger, weaker Warders. Most of the stronger Warders have stayed in London.”
Darcy took a deep breath and looked around the room, trying to determine if this was the right time to raise the issue. He plunged in. There would never be a right time.
“As it so happens, we do have a Janus Mage in residence. She has proved she is capable of Bonding with me, and—”
His words were drowned as the other mages all began to speak at once.
“You cannot endanger yourself.” Devereux’s booming voice rose above the others, and the rest fell silent.
“I think we should look at this logically.” Sudbury’s voice was calm. People listened to him. “There is something to what Darcy is saying. We need the strongest Wards to keep de Riquer in. From all accounts, he is a very Talented mage – one of the best.”
“It is too dangerous.” Devereux’s mulish countenance was more unyielding than ever. “Darcy may be willing to take a huge gamble because his head has been turned by the Bennet girl, but we do not have to agree with this folly. You have seen what happened to the Warder who was unfortunate enough to link with her. What was his name? Bungley?”
He burst into laughter. When no one else laughed, he decided to offer an explanation.
“Bungley, Bingley? Get it? He bungled it?” He snickered. “Do you want to bungle it, too, Darcy? Are you willing to risk turning into— that?”
Darcy did not lose his temper easily, but he was coming close to it. He dug deep inside himself for some vestige of calm. Somehow, he would stop himself from plowing his fist into Devereux’s face. How dared he mock poor Bingley like that?
But he would not allow Devereux the satisfaction of knowing he had gotten to him. He forced himself to sound completely unruffled.
“I will not deny that there is some risk involved, but if Elizabeth was responsible for injuring the Warders she connected with, it was because she was under intense pressure to stop a fireball. That fireball was intent on destroying the Hall and everyone in it.”
Devereux smiled widely. “So you say. No one has seen this famous fireball. You were fooled by the French Conjurers’ tricks. It was an Illusion, Darcy.”
Darcy was about to make a heated retort, but Matlock put up his hand to stop him.
“The existence or non-existence of the fireball is immaterial and a discussion for another time. We are deciding what to do about the French Imperial Mage. He will be arriving in ten days. Unless you can somehow convince Redmond to be here within a week, we are faced with an awkward dilemma.”
Silence greeted his words. This was Darcy’s chance to get them to concede.
“We do have a Janus Mage in residence. Not very long ago, the Council believed her so suitable that you forced us to marry. Lady Alice Enright herself tested Elizabeth. Unless you have another alternative, I need her assistance in containing a potentially dangerous captive. The other alternative is to work with three lesser Warders. If I do that, I cannot be sure de Riquer will not break through the Wards. What will you have me do? Risk everyone’s lives with poor Wards, or risk my own?”
Lord Matlock spoke up.
“I think we should put it to the vote. Who votes to allow Darcy to test this Bond and find out if it will work?”
Five hands went up. Darcy, Matlock, Greystone, Pickering and Lady Ashcombe. Darcy was surprised at Lady Ashcombe’s vote. She was a Healer. He would have thought she would protest.
Matlock nodded. “Very well. You have the Council’s permission. Please proceed with caution. The meeting is dismissed.”
As he pushed to his feet, Darcy looked towards his uncle. Matlock’s expression was neutral, revealing nothing, but when Darcy met his gaze, he gave a quick smile.
So that was what his uncle was up to. The wily fox had cleverly maneuvered Darcy into making his argument, then put it to the vote.
Darcy did not smile back. That would surely have given the game away.