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Elizabeth looked around her at the twenty apprentice mages who were waiting for her to begin her lesson. They were brand new recruits, been brought in from various Academies from across the Kingdom. They had not yet learnt to hide their expressions. Some of them looked anxious, others uneasy, while a very few looked openly resistant. There were rumors, she imagined. Some still blamed her for the Warders’ affliction, suspecting the Council of hiding the truth, and the rumors had reached the new apprentices. Others simply had heard that her form of magic was unusual, and therefore dangerous.
Well, she would just have to prove them wrong.
“Today we are going to practice a simple form of group connecting. It is very similar to a Healer’s Circle, but it forms a much wider circle. It is an old form of magic called Congruous Threading although I have brought my own twist to it. Congruous means harmonious, and that is what we will strive to be, like harmonies in music coming together as one.”
“My name is Elizabeth Darcy, and I am the first official Congruous Mage. I shall be your instructor.”
She had talked to Darcy about it, and he agreed it was a good name.
She had worked with fully trained mages before, but teaching a group of younger students was completely different. She had never even attended a class at a Mage Academy, let alone taught one. Yet here she was, standing in front of a group of young mages, and they expected her to teach them how to perform Congruous Threading when she had never even met them before. It was a daunting task.
“How do we know that we will not be injured like Mr. Bingley and Walton?”
She did not know the speaker, but she recognized his expression. It held the same haughty superiority she had seen in Redmond.
“Perhaps you might care to introduce yourself before you speak out of turn and interrupt the lesson?” she said.
She had to stand her ground. If she did not quell the rumors quickly, she would have a full-fledged rebellion on her hand. She would not allow any of the true-bloods to intimidate her, nor to exert their influence on the other apprentices.
There was a ringing silence as the boy looked at her, torn between insolence and embarrassment. Everyone was watching him, and Elizabeth waited with bated breath, wondering what she was going to do if he did not back down. Her resolution strengthened. If necessary, she would set an example of him.
“I am Lord Stoke,” he said. “And I have no intention of allowing you to damage my mind.”
“Very well.” She made her tone deliberately offhand. “Then you will very probably perish when Napoleon’s mages attack. I would rather not instruct you if you are afraid to learn. You may leave the class.”
Lord Stoke spun around and left, his cheeks a blotchy red.
She looked around at the rest of the students. “If anyone else is afraid to learn how to defend themselves against the French mages, I would rather discover it sooner than later.”
The uncertainty on the faces around her almost made her smile. They were young, and precarious, teetering on the edge of adulthood. She thought of Lydia and what she would say to her if she was here.
“What I will be teaching cannot injure you. It will help you, because it will give you the ability to find help in an emergency. But I cannot promise that you will not be injured in battle. Three of the mages were bespelled when we were taken by surprise in an attack. Luckily, we have found a way to unravel the spell. But that is not always the case. Sometimes, the worst will happen. We are at war, after all. If that is the case, you will be considered heroes and will receive medals for bravery. We are the Royal Mages. We are fighting for the Kingdom. You cannot slink away and hide from what you have been trained to do since birth. The truth of the matter is that when we confront Napoleon’s mages, some of you may be injured. Some of you may die. It is the nature of battles. But without you, the Kingdom will be forced to bow to Napoleon’s rule. As mages, you will be forced to become Imperial Mages and fight for him. Is that what you wish for?”
“We truly have no choice in the matter. If we are to defeat Napoleon and keep this country free, we will have to use every weapon we have. Only by being united can we accomplish this.”
She looked around. They looked solemn and determined.
“We may be attacked at any moment. We have no time to lose. Who of you wants to see Netherfield crumble under the attack? Which one of you is prepared to fail your fellow mages? By refusing to learn, you will be putting yourselves – and all those around you – in danger. You are young, you can learn quickly. Some of the older mages would find it more difficult. The fate of the Kingdom rests on your shoulders.”
She had not planned to say these things. The words had come unbidden. They were from the heart. She would not allow anyone to stand in her way.
Two of the mages looked downward, avoiding her eye, but the majority had decided. She could tell from the hardened resolve in their expression that her words had reached them.
No one else left the room.
She remembered Lord Matlock’s rallying cry. She felt awkward using it, but she knew they would expect it.
“We are the Royal Mages, and we will not be defeated!”
The apprentices, relieved to hear something familiar, replied in one voice.
“We will not be defeated!”
She smiled.
“Good, then let us begin.”
***
DARCY WAS WAITING FOR her when she finished her lesson. His expression was grave, his eyes turbulent.
“Elizabeth, I have been thinking about what you said, and about my behavior, especially during the duel. I should not have kept things from you.”
“No, you should not.” She let out a long breath. “I am your Twin, the other half of you as a Janus Mage. I should be able to trust you completely.”
The hurt was still there, along with the sense of betrayal.
“Matlock and I were too focused on trying to entrap the traitor, I did not consider all the implications. I did not think of the suffering you might go through, believing something might happen to me. I should have told you the rules of magical duels. They are never to the death. Matlock would have put a stop to it, if it had gone too far. Everyone knew that. I assumed – wrongly—that you did as well.”
“Wait, so the duel would never have resulted in you being killed?”
“No.”
It was Sudbury who had said so when she had consulted with him. She felt a surge of anger. And to think she had trusted him! “Lord Sudbury told me otherwise.”
The flash of anger in his eyes reflected her own. “You have given me yet another reason to despise him. He misled you deliberately. It shows that he was cruel as well as misguided.”
He reached out and took both her hands, gazing intently into her eyes.
“Believe me when I say I would never have put you through that. If I had known—.” He shook his head. “But that does not excuse me in any way. I asked you not to interfere because we – Matlock and I—knew there would be a moment when I could have been in danger, and you would have wanted to protect me, but the only way the plan could work was for me to reach that point.”
“There you are, saying ‘we’ again. I think your uncle owes me an apology as well.”
He nodded. “I know. I am aware of it. And I know now it was wrong. My uncle will apologize. I have already told him that throwing you into the cell with de Riquer was unacceptable. He panicked, and the cellar was the only place he could think of where you would not be able to use your magic. If you had Bonded with me, the whole plan would have unraveled.”
She had not known how important this was to her until now. Darcy had taken his uncle to task already. She had not even needed to mention it.
“All this could have been avoided if you had told me what you intended.”
“It was a terrible mistake not to, in so many ways. I can only offer my humblest apologies and promise that it will never happen again. I have grown too accustomed to relying on my own judgement, but you are part of my life now, and I must learn that I cannot act alone. You are my Twin, as well as my wife, and you deserve honesty and loyalty more than anyone else in the world. You are my comrade-in-arms. I will never keep a secret from you.”
“Or conspire again with your uncle without my knowledge.”
“Never. You have my word.”
“Even if you think it is for my own protection.”
“Even so. You deserve to know the truth.”
The passion in his voice swayed her. He was so sincere, so genuinely contrite, that the love she had been holding back bubbled up inside her. It would take time, but the future was already much brighter.
“I will hold you to that promise, Darcy. We will have to speak more about this.”
He pressed her hands then let them go with a rueful smile.
“I had the feeling you would say that. I thought we could go to the conservatory tonight so we could spend time together and talk, away from everyone else.”
His smile lit up her heart. She had missed him terribly. She smiled back, feeling at peace for the first time for weeks. She was prepared to fight the world, as long as she did not have to fight Darcy as well. Then she noticed for the first time that he was holding her shawl on his arm.
“I hope you do not mind that I asked your sister for the shawl.”
“I do not. I am sure I will need it.”
She was strangely nervous. It had been so long since they had spent time alone, she had forgotten what it felt like. Not that the conservatory, with its dead plants and dirty windows was a very pleasant place to be, but beggars could not be choosers.
He offered her his arm. She slipped her hand under his elbow, and they began to walk together, stiffly at first, then, slowly, she began to lean into him, drawn by the warmth of his body and lured by the scent of him, the mix of bergamot soap and the unique aroma of his skin. Soon they were walking shoulder to shoulder, and his arm snaked its way slowly around her waist.
As they drew closer to the conservatory, it was completely dark. She hoped Darcy had a candle there and he did not plan to have them sitting in the darkness. It was a moonless night. She thought of that night long ago when he had surprised her with a trip on the river on a moonless night. It had been an uncomfortable outing. She had worried constantly about being attacked, but it had served the purpose of having him talk to her. Maybe Darcy found it easier to talk about himself in the quiet folds of darkness.
She had a distinct image of herself stumbling over dead plants as the two of them made their way to the enclave where they had sat the last time they were here. She chuckled. It was an adventure, at least. Perhaps that was what they needed. Something unexpected.
Darcy held the door open for her and as she stepped in, she was enveloped by the thick heavy aroma of a greenhouse. It was warm inside, toasty enough that she would not need the shawl he was carrying. He must have had arranged for the furnaces to be started up.
Darcy steadied her as she tripped over a root in the pitch darkness.
“I am beginning to wonder if this is another nefarious plot to be rid of me. Must we wander around in the dark?”
“I am sure there must be a candle somewhere,” said Darcy, gravely. “I just have to find it.”
As her eyes grew accustomed to the night, she thought she spotted shadows moving about. Her senses immediately alert, she searched for magic ahead of her. It was everywhere.
Her heart beating fast, she drew away from Darcy and prepared for an attack.
“Darcy, I think—"
“Hush. Wait.” He was smiling, unperturbed.
Ahead of them, a blue light flared up. A ghost light. Then another, then another, until she was suddenly surrounded by them.
The blue lights were released. They floated upwards until they reached the ceiling, then they began to float around in swirling patterns, like the steps of a dance. As they did so, they grew brighter, illuminating the dome in the center of the conservatory.
Elizabeth looked around her in wonder as she realized the dead plants had been cleared away. Two small palm trees had been brought in, their delicate branches fanning out under the blue light. The urns and statues that had been hidden by weeds were now standing tall and proud. The enclave where they had sat before was bordered by snowy gardenias and plumed red hibiscus. The laughter of the meandering stream reached her ears.
She laughed and clapped her hands as a dozen candles suddenly lit up all at once and revealed that a table had been set up for the two of them under the dome.
“Is this an Illusion, or is it real?”
“It is real. I have had help from some of the apprentices.”
He turned to the figures standing just beyond the reach of the light.
“Congratulations, to all of you. You have done very well. You managed to evade detection, and you executed your roles with perfect timing. Thank you for your assistance. You may go now and have your own dinner.”
Elizabeth thanked them as they took their leave. When the last of them had left and closed the door, she turned to Darcy.
“They did not evade detection,” said Elizabeth.
“You did not sense them until the last moment.” He sounded inordinately pleased with himself. “I think you are losing your touch.”
“I am not losing my touch,” she said, running a finger across his lips and watching as his eyes blazed with the flame of the candles.
His breath hitched. He snipped gently at her finger, then his gaze dropped to her mouth. Her pulse shuddered as he lowered his face and brought his lips down to hers. They were like velvet at first, teasing her and fueling her need, but then they hardened as they grew more demanding. A fierce hunger erupted through her as the Bond surged around them, merging them into one.
She became aware of Darcy pushing her shakily away. “The apprentices might still be outside. They can see us through the glass.” His voice was thick with passion, unfamiliar.
She felt bereft as he peeled his body away from hers, the air suddenly cold.
“Do you think they are still there?”
“It is not often that they are treated to the spectacle of two people kissing.”
“I do not sense their presence.”
“That is because they have become adept at Cloaking. Admit it. You did not know they were there until it was too late.”
Her gurgle of laughter seemed reflected in the sound of the stream. “Are you still thinking about that?”
“Did you think you could distract me from your abysmal failure to sense danger?”
His warm whisper of his breath next to her ear was playing havoc with her senses. She could barely think, let alone defend herself.
“That is only because you had an unfair advantage. You distracted me.” He was distracting her still, even though he had stepped away and put a distance between them.
“We could set up a Ward to stop them from seeing us,” she suggested.
Darcy shook his head, his lips curling. “We ought to have our meal before it gets cold, especially after the effort I expended having the dishes brought here.” His gaze grew serious. “Besides, we came here because I wanted to talk. I do not want you accusing me of bringing you here under false pretenses.”
She gave him a suggestive smile. “I do not mind the false pretenses.”
“But I am a man of my word.”
“Very well, then. We will talk. And we will eat. But not now. Do you have any engagements tonight? Any urgent Council meetings? Any enemy attacks to ward off?”
“No, I have no plans for any of those.”
“Then we have the whole night to talk. First let us take time to be together – without talking.”
“Very well. If you will promise me something.”
“It depends on what you want me to promise.”
“That you will not complain if the food is stone cold.”
She took hold of his cravat and pulled him closer to her.
“I will complain,” she said, her fingers slipping into the curls at the back of his head. “If you do not make more of an effort to keep me warm.”