Chapter Eight #2
The more her cousin spoke about their engagement as an established fact, the more agitated Mr. Darcy appeared to become.
She supposed that some women would find his reaction flattering, but Elizabeth was only annoyed.
He had no more claim on her than her cousin did.
And his agitation might lead someone to believe that something improper had occurred. As it had.
And…Mr. Collins was still talking at her.
“If you could but visit Rosings Park, I am sure you would understand the very great advantage of our match. My connection to the noble family of de Bourgh is much to be admired. And you would observe how comfortably fitted up Hunsford Parsonage is. Lady Catherine has been attentive to the tiniest detail.”
“How exceedingly gracious of her!” Elizabeth’s mother proclaimed. “What a shame that Lizzy cannot visit Rosings Park. Hopefully she will someday,” she said with a wink to Elizabeth.
Mr. Darcy was preparing to respond when Hill came rushing into the drawing room. “Begging your pardon, sir,” she addressed Mr. Darcy directly. “But the Netherfield coachman is at the door. They was attacked by goblins and Mr. Bingley is grievously hurt!”
***
Alone for the moment in a Longbourn drawing room, Darcy allowed himself to sink into a chair and put his head in his hands.
Winter’s chill seemed to seep into his bones, and he leaned toward the warmth of the fire.
Healer Mayne was with Bingley. He had stanched the bleeding and was now endeavoring to save Bingley’s arm.
If he could not heal the wound in time, they would be forced to amputate the limb.
The Bennets had provided Bingley with a bedchamber, and Mr. Bennet had promised all necessary assistance, but there was little that he—or anyone—could do at the moment.
The rest of the party was uninjured, but Mrs. Hurst had been dosed with laudanum after having hysterics.
Caroline kept her sister company in yet another Longbourn bedchamber.
Hurst had sequestered himself in a parlor and was quietly making inroads in Mr. Bennet’s brandy.
From what Darcy had gleaned from Hurst and Caroline, the carriage had been attacked half a mile from Longbourn.
The goblin had killed one of the horses and then wrenched open the carriage door.
Bingley had defended the carriage’s occupants quite valiantly, killing the goblin, but not before it had sliced a huge gash in the paladin’s upper left arm.
What would Bingley do if he lost the arm? He would be devastated if he could no longer serve as a paladin. Darcy would be grieved as well; he and Bingley had been brothers in arms since meeting at the Academy.
Darcy’s hands were shaking; someone might enter the room at any moment and notice.
He stood and stalked toward the sideboard, pouring himself a generous portion of brandy without spilling any.
He downed the glass in a few gulps, relishing the burn at the back of his throat.
Then he poured another and retreated to the chair lest he be tempted into a third glass.
His head jerked up when the door opened to admit Elizabeth. She regarded him sympathetically for a moment and then took the chair beside his. “Mr. Mayne said he believes he will be able to save Mr. Bingley’s arm.”
Darcy slumped bonelessly in the chair. “Thank God.” He finished his glass and stood to obtain more brandy from the sideboard.
“Mr. Mayne is an accomplished healer,” she said.
Darcy nodded as he settled back in his chair. “I possess every faith in his abilities.”
“My father wished to convey his hopes that your party will stay at Longbourn this night since Mr. Bingley cannot be moved.”
Darcy sipped the brandy. “I will remain—in case Bingley needs me. But the Hursts and Caroline may prefer to return to Netherfield. I will inquire with them.”
“Of course.”
The silence stretched between them as Darcy sought the words to confess his sins. “I was wrong,” he finally admitted. “When I said we did not need to summon a goblin. You understood the situation more clearly than I.”
“You hoped that the situation had improved,” she said in a gentle tone. “Nobody could blame you for that.”
Darcy stared down at the amber liquid in his glass. “No, I wished to delay because I am apprehensive about the consequences of summoning a goblin.”
“It is understandable.”
“No!” Darcy thumped his fist on the arm of the chair. “I am a paladin. We take an oath that we will run toward danger. We do not retreat.”
“As you yourself have pointed out, goblin summoning is illegal. Surely it is not your job to take unnecessary risks.”
He stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Why must you insist on being reasonable, Miss Elizabeth, when I am intent on wallowing in guilt?”
Darcy was pleased that this provoked a startled laugh from her.
A long silence followed. Finally, Elizabeth said, “My containment spell is prepared. You only need to give the word.”
“Tonight. We will perform the summoning tonight—before another person is hurt.”
***
One advantage of spending the night at Longbourn was that Darcy was able to accompany Elizabeth to Oakham Mount. The latest goblin attack had shaken whatever sense of safety Darcy possessed, and he did not want her to go anywhere unescorted.
The Hursts and Caroline had returned to Netherfield as Darcy had predicted.
Before entering the Bennets’ carriage, Hurst had blustered about helping Darcy discover the cause of the goblin attacks, but undoubtedly the man would go to bed without giving the attacks another thought.
Some of Darcy’s anxiety had been alleviated by speaking with Bingley, who had been sleepy with laudanum but claimed to experience no pain.
Darcy suspected that had something to do with being under the same roof as Jane Bennet.
Elizabeth and Darcy took pains to avoid being observed leaving the house together.
It would be an enormous scandal if they were caught, and Darcy might be forced to marry her.
Elizabeth had suggested they depart at different times, but Darcy refused to leave her unprotected for even a few minutes.
Elizabeth had acquiesced with a roll of her eyes, but a moment later she had been talking excitedly about casting her own look away spell, a minor illusion that would help them blend into their surroundings as they crept out of Longbourn together.
Elizabeth had astonished him with how completely she wrapped the ether around them as they were sneaking out of the house. A maid who appeared unexpectedly from the kitchen stared right past them as they hurried toward the back door.
Once they were far enough from the house, Elizabeth dropped the spell, and Darcy conjured a witch light to augment the dim illumination provided by a waning moon.
They said little as they hurried along the road toward Oakham Mount.
Although the day had been mild, the night was cooler, and they were not inclined to linger.
They reached the top of the hill directly—where the stones in the summoning circle appeared to glow, although it was probably just a trick of the moonlight.
Elizabeth opened the satchel she had slung over her shoulder and started sprinkling flower petals around the edge of the circle.
Containment spells worked best when anchored by physical objects, although Darcy had never seen petals used for this purpose.
He stepped into the center of the circle and gathered sticks together for the small fire required by the summoning spell he had chosen.
While he coaxed the fire into being, Elizabeth laid the other ingredients for the spell on a boulder just outside the circle.
He glanced up at her as he fed sticks into the fire. “You need not risk your safety. I can perform the ritual myself.”
She regarded him skeptically. “You can set a containment spell and do the summoning?”
“Yes.” It would strain the limits of his power, but he could do it. Probably.
“Perhaps you could, but would you possess enough energy afterward to reach the bottom of the hill—let alone return to Longbourn?”
Darcy hesitated, unsure he could make that promise.
“I thought so.” Elizabeth gave a brisk nod. “I appreciate your gallantry, Mr. Darcy, but I would never forgive myself if you perished alone up here.”
“As a paladin, I am trained to fight goblins,” he said stiffly.
She pulled a small jar from her satchel and walked around the circle, sprinkling salt around the perimeter. “So I have heard. But it is undoubtedly safer to have two mages at hand.”
Or it doubles the potential victims. But Darcy said nothing; she obviously had no intention of changing her mind.
He took a deep breath to quell his agitation and then pointed to a place on the circle.
“Miss Elizabeth, will you position yourself there? I have never performed this spell before. If the goblin kills me, standing there will give you the best opportunity to flee.”
Elizabeth shuddered. “If it kills you, it will have breached the containment spell so I will most likely already be dead.” Darcy barely managed not to beg her to depart yet again.
She sprinkled herbs around the circle and brushed her hands off on the skirt of her gown. “Are you prepared?” Darcy nodded. “Then I will start the containment spell.”
He stepped out of the summoning circle as she started muttering a Latin incantation, drawing together shimmering strands of ether and weaving them into a circular shape. A glowing barrier arose along the circle’s perimeter, culminating in a dome large enough to contain several goblins.
Fascinating. Usually containment spells required far more chanting and took quite a bit longer to establish. But the dome had no weaknesses or flaws that he could discern. “Well done,” he said. She smiled without turning her gaze away from the dome.
Despite his anxiety about the task in front of them, Darcy could not quite suppress a sigh of admiration at the sight of Elizabeth standing tall and confident, effortlessly powering a spell of her own creation.
Who knew that competence with magic rendered a woman so attractive?
No doubt many mages would find it threatening, but Darcy was…
exhilarated. He longed to be by her side for the rest of his life so he could witness what else she was capable of.
I am engaged. Engaged. Engaged. My fiancée is Caroline Bingley.
Unfortunately, his silent reminders did nothing to diminish her appeal.
It was not until she turned an expectant gaze on him that he was capable of tearing his eyes from her countenance.
Oh, I suppose it is time to perform the summoning.
He lifted his hands, pulling on the threads of ether surrounding the fire; superheated ether formed portals more readily. As he chanted the words he had memorized, the flames blazed higher and higher, producing a welcome warmth.
Darcy bent the ether to his will, forming it into a portal made of shimmering golden light; an arch floating directly over the blazing fire.
It is working! Darcy tamped down his excitement; the next part of the spell was far more difficult.
Mages seldom summoned specific goblins by name.
He had not even known that individual goblins had names.
This part of the summoning was taken directly from Wyndham’s journals, and Darcy could only hope it would work. The Latin was convoluted, and he focused on getting the pronunciation just right. Who knew what would happen if he used the wrong case.
That done, he paused and took a deep breath. Now was the moment of truth—when he would learn if the spell would work. He shouted, “I summon you by name! Yucanthas the kobold: appear!”
Nothing happened.