Chapter Eleven

Upon opening the door, Elizabeth had jumped backward, expecting the water to gush into the hallway. But it remained firmly within the confines of the library, coming right to the threshold but no further—as if some invisible barrier held it back. The books on the lower shelves were soaked, and a few floated on the surface of the water.

“Oh my!” Charlotte exclaimed from behind Elizabeth.

Mr. Collins stood by an open window, rather fruitlessly trying to bail the water with a bucket. With bare feet and trousers rolled up to his knees, he might have been a visitor to Brighton who had decided on impromptu wading at the beach. Water speckled his clothing, and sweat-soaked hair fell over one eye.

Elizabeth scrutinized the water that simply stopped at the threshold as if frozen into ice. “This is the result of a spell that instructed the water to remain within the room,” she murmured to Charlotte.

Her friend’s eyes widened. “But why would someone submerge a library in water?”

Elizabeth’s lips twitched. “I do not believe it was intentional.”

Mr. Collins turned away from the window. “Ah, Miss Elizabeth, Miss Lucas! Allow me to welcome you to Hunsford Parsonage.” He made an absurd little bow before sloshing toward the door, his arms spread wide in welcome. For a moment Elizabeth feared he might invite them to take a seat in the room.

“What has befallen your library, sir?” she asked.

Mr. Collins did not appear nearly as chagrined as she expected. How often do such events occur to him? “I…er…well, I was trying to tidy the room….in preparation for Lady Catherine’s arrival. I cast an aquis spell to provide a little water to clean the floor…I suppose I overshot the mark a little.”

Elizabeth bit back a smile. “Indeed.” As a book with a blue cover floated toward her, Elizabeth leaned over, careful not to get her skirts wet, and gingerly plucked it from the water’s surface. Perhaps she could dry out the sodden mess and save at least one book from ruin.

Mr. Collins gave a rather defeated shrug. “I have attempted a vanishing spell—to no avail.”

Behind Elizabeth, Lady Catherine intoned, “I can see that.”

“Lady Catherine!” Mr. Collins executed a low bow that caused his cravat to dangle in the water. “I must apologize for my disheveled state—”

His patroness regarded the scene without amusement. “Miss Elizabeth, I heard you were unusually talented with magic.”

“Yes?” Elizabeth replied, bemused.

“Surely you can make this water…disappear?”

Oh. Lady Catherine wished Elizabeth to demonstrate her usefulness to Mr. Collins as a wife. She stared at the water in dismay.

Before she could reply, Charlotte stepped forward. “I will do it.” As all eyes turned in her direction, Charlotte lifted her chin. “My four brothers are always creating messes with their magic. I have, er, experience in this area.”

Mr. Collins beamed at her. “Any assistance you can render would be most welcome.”

“Now that is a useful application of magic,” Lady Catherine said. “Not like all this nonsense about fighting goblins.”

“I even know a charm for drying books.” Uttering a few words of Latin, Charlotte drew down a strand of ether and touched it to the book in Elizabeth’s hands. Instantly it was as pristine as the day it had been manufactured.

“Amazing!” Mr. Collins exclaimed.

Elizabeth huffed a laugh. She had saved lives by fighting goblins, but he was more impressed by drying a book. Although she was truly pleased to let Charlotte have the glory.

Elizabeth read aloud the title of the now-dry book. “A Sojourn in the Goblin World by Richard Hurst.”

“Ah, yes,” Lady Catherine intoned. “Richard Hurst was the parson here when I was a girl. He was…adequate. But his family had a dreadful habit of experimenting with portals to the goblin world. Those mages were always appearing and disappearing.” She sniffed. “It was in such bad taste.”

Charlotte was aghast. “Surely that was very dangerous!”

Lady Catherine shrugged. “I never knew of any harm that came from it. Hurst could summon a portal with the flick of his fingers. I cannot imagine what use that talent would be, but he and his brother…his sons, his nephews, they could all conjure portals.”

Elizabeth stared at the book in her hand as if it unlocked all the mysteries of the world. “Do any of the Hurst family still live in Kent?”

Lady Catherine shook her head. “There was some scandal thirty years back, and they all fled to London. I believe one of his nephews married an heiress—if you would call her that. Her father was in trade.”

This could be the key to unravel the whole mystery. Elizabeth rifled through the first pages of the book, reading snatches of the crabbed handwriting.

Chanting tonelessly in Latin, Charlotte had drawn down several strands of ether to absorb the water. The water level immediately dropped several inches.

“Marvelous!” Mr. Collins exclaimed.

“I beg you to excuse me,” Elizabeth said to Lady Catherine. “I must take this book to Mr. Darcy immediately!”

The older woman regarded her disdainfully. “Surely you would do better to remain and provide assistance to Mr. Collins.”

“Charlotte seems to have the situation well in hand.”

Her friend’s eyes did not waver from her task as she spoke. “I believe I do, although completely cleaning the room may take an hour or more.”

Lady Catherine lifted her chin. “Then perhaps it is best if I return to Rosings.”

“I will accompany you,” Elizabeth said immediately.

Lady Catherine appeared to have swallowed something sour, but she nodded in acquiescence before sweeping down the corridor.

***

Before Darcy had arrived at Rosings’ library, a servant had informed him that his aunt had taken Elizabeth away for a visit to the parsonage. He focused on his research, but irritating thoughts intruded. Why was his aunt so insistent on fostering a match between Elizabeth and Collins? What if Elizabeth decided to choose Collins after all? It would certainly be the path of least resistance.

His worries were irrational; Elizabeth had shown no inclination toward the parson. He would apply himself to his task with renewed energy, but three minutes later he would find himself once again wondering what could be keeping her at the parsonage.

Finally, the library door swung open and Elizabeth hurried in, clutching a slim blue book to her chest. She smiled at Darcy with an air of suppressed excitement. Taking the chair beside his, she laid the book on the table.

“How fares Mr. Collins?” Darcy asked.

Elizabeth blinked, her fingers playing with the edges of the pages. “His library is submerged in a foot of water, and I believe he may have transferred his affections to Charlotte.”

Relief swept through Darcy like a gale. He had no right to such sentiments and yet they persisted. Belatedly, he wondered why there was water in Collins’s library.

But Elizabeth was pushing the book toward Darcy. “I found this in the parsonage library. Apparently Richard Hurst was the parson decades ago. This is his journal.”

Darcy stared at the book. Who was Richard Hurst?

The words tumbled out of Elizabeth. “He describes how he and other mages in his family could construct portals to the goblin world in the blink of an eye. They became frequent visitors to that world, stealing gems to enrich the family. This must be the family the kobold described.”

Elizabeth’s excitement was contagious. “Hurst? Is it the same family—”

“John Hurst, Mr. Bingley’s brother-in-law, is Richard Hurst’s nephew,” Elizabeth said quickly. “He likely has that same facility with constructing portals.”

Darcy grew cold as the implications sank in. “Hurst—Oh Lord, it is Hurst!” The truth had been in front of them the whole time.

Elizabeth nodded emphatically. “If you recall, he was present at every goblin attack in Hertfordshire. At the balls, at Netherfield, in the carriage. The goblins are trying to reach Hurst and stop him from sacrificing the children.”

It could not be true. Darcy did not want it to be true. The blackguard had been within his reach, yet Darcy had not stopped him. Still, the story fit. The attacks had commenced not long after Hurst’s arrival in Hertfordshire—when he could access the Oakham Mount summoning circle. Darcy could see no holes in Elizabeth’s logic.

“Of course, my suppositions could be incorrect,” Elizabeth allowed.

“We cannot afford to assume that.”

“I agree. We must return to Hertfordshire at once. Mr. Hurst’s presence is placing everyone in the neighborhood at risk.”

Darcy’s heartbeat pounded in his ears. “I received a letter from Bingley yesterday.” He could hear the tremor in his voice. “The entire household has returned to London in anticipation of the upcoming Convocation meeting. If you are right, Bingley…Caroline, they are in grave danger.”

Elizabeth’s hand flew to her mouth. “If goblins attack Mr. Hurst in London, many innocent people could die.”

Darcy took a deep breath, trying to quell his anxiety. “Yes. We must travel there as quickly as possible.”

***

At dinner that evening, Mr. Darcy announced their plans to visit London but assured Charlotte he had made arrangements for her safe return to Hertfordshire. Lady Catherine had grumbled about the brevity of her nephew’s visit, but the others made no comment.

To nobody’s surprise Mr. Collins took Elizabeth aside after dinner and informed her that his affections had transferred from her to Charlotte. Pleased that one problem had been satisfactorily resolved, Elizabeth had wished them both happy. Her only reservation was about Charlotte’s future felicity, but later that night her friend had assured her that she was quite content with the arrangement. Elizabeth surmised that Charlotte liked having someone to clean up after.

Eager to depart, Elizabeth was on Rosings’ front steps at the appointed time the next morning. A bright sun presided over a brilliantly blue sky. Despite the early spring chill in the air, it was a good day for traveling. Elizabeth’s trunk rested on the mansion’s front steps as she waited for Mr. Darcy’s carriage to arrive.

At first, Elizabeth could not identify the source of the noise. The creaking of wood and jangling of reins suggested a carriage in motion, but none were approaching. Then she glanced upward. The shape in the sky did not make sense at first. Then she realized that a dragon was hurtling in her direction.