Chapter Ten
The day after the goblin summoning at Oakham Mount, Elizabeth found herself in Mr. Darcy’s carriage, bound for Kent.
Her mother, of course, had been quite in favor of the scheme and had hastily ordered Elizabeth’s trunk packed, but her father had been less than pleased at the idea of his daughter traveling with two unmarried men.
That problem had been solved when Charlotte had unexpectedly volunteered to accompany them, explaining that she had very little chance to travel.
Given how stultifying Mr. Collins’s conversation was, Elizabeth was not sure it was a good bargain on Charlotte’s part.
But her friend appeared tolerably pleased with the trip.
Recently, concerns about rituals and goblins had pushed everything else from Elizabeth’s mind, but now, sitting opposite Mr. Darcy, she found it difficult to tear her eyes away from him.
From his dashing bottle green coat to his intricately tied cravat, he was the picture of male elegance.
A dark curl fell over his forehead, and she longed to tuck it back into place.
He had been relatively taciturn, but whenever he glanced in her direction, his eyes sparkled, and the ghost of a smile played about his lips.
He could not possibly understand what effect such glances had on Elizabeth.
She attempted to fix her eyes on the passing scenery, but her gaze was drawn back to him again and again. The memory of the kiss at the Netherfield ball would not be suppressed.
Did he realize he had treated her as an equal during their recent ventures?
Throughout the past few days, it had been easy for Elizabeth to forget about the Convocation’s rejection and fantasize that she had enjoyed paladin training beside men like Mr. Darcy.
They had not spoken of it, but he appeared to take her talent as a matter of course—despite his earlier misgivings.
Such consideration was sorely testing her resolve to view him as nothing more than a friend.
Their gazes met for a brief moment in the space between the seats—before he quickly averted his eyes.
This is ridiculous, she told herself. I have known Mr. Darcy was engaged since nearly the first moment of our acquaintance.
I must stop these silly fantasies. Surely she could find a better use of her time than to make herself miserable over an impossible situation.
She longed to discuss their research plans, but they could not discuss it openly in the presence of Charlotte and Mr. Collins. Her hours in Mr. Darcy’s presence were numbered; how unfair that their open discourse was impeded.
Hoping to make the occasion of some use, Elizabeth did take the opportunity to ask Mr. Darcy about areas of magical study that were unfamiliar to her.
His response was open and affable, leading to a wide-ranging conversation on the subject of magic.
As a paladin, he had a broad experience in the practical applications of magic—which was quite different from her father’s approach.
He responded to her questions candidly and completely, holding nothing back.
The longer they spoke, the more tightly Mr. Collins’s lips pursed in disapproval.
He dared not interrupt or contradict Lady Catherine’s nephew, but it was obvious he objected to the entire discourse.
Elizabeth resolved to ignore him, but when he snorted loudly at something Mr. Darcy said, the other man turned an icy stare on him.
“You appear to be in violent disagreement with my opinion, Mr. Collins.”
Mr. Collins froze like a mouse that had caught the attention of a hawk. “N-No. N-Not at all. I-I bow to your far greater expertise. I m-merely question whether such…information can be…of use to a young lady like Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Darcy raised his eyebrow. “Surely you are aware that Miss Elizabeth is capable of commanding sophisticated magic. She is a spell crafter.”
A cleverer man would have heard the frost in Mr. Darcy’s voice and dropped the subject, but Mr. Collins had not been blessed with that degree of understanding.
He puffed out his chest and raised his chin as if preparing to deliver a sermon.
“Surely such knowledge is wasted upon a woman who will soon marry and spend all her time caring for a household.”
Elizabeth’s smile was the one she used when contradicting someone. “My father would say that no knowledge is ever wasted.”
“But what use will it ever be?” Mr. Collins blustered. “You cannot possibly require such information.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Are you claiming foreknowledge of my future?”
“No. No.” The man wiped sweat from his brow with his handkerchief. “I am simply stating the truth. When you are married, you will hardly have need for any greater magic.”
“Miss Elizabeth’s magical talent is quite great.
It would be a shame if she deliberately limited its use.
” Elizabeth shivered a little at the deep tones of Mr. Darcy’s voice.
Is there anything more attractive than a man who leaps to my defense?
she wondered. Certainly she could fight her own battles, but his marked approval created a warm glow in her chest.
“If women aspire to practice too much greater magic, it could be very dangerous for everyone,” Mr. Collins intoned solemnly.
Elizabeth glared daggers at the clergyman, but Mr. Darcy spoke before she did. “And yet you would have her as your wife. I wonder at that.”
Now her cousin had turned red. “N-Naturally I would expect th-that Miss Elizabeth would— mature, particularly with the benefit of a firm guiding hand.”
Elizabeth could not prevent herself from snorting and rolling her eyes.
To her astonishment, Mr. Darcy caught her eye and shared a conspiratorial smile before redirecting his attention to the parson.
“So she would make an ideal wife for you if she altered large parts of her character?” he asked in a deceptively mild-mannered way.
Elizabeth would have shuddered to have such sarcasm directed at her, but Mr. Collins was oblivious. “Precisely!” He smiled widely at the pleasure of now being understood.
“I fear it is a hopeless case,” Mr. Darcy said to her, his eyes dancing.
“Indeed.” Elizabeth pretended to cough into her handkerchief to disguise her laughter. “But I must thank you for making the attempt.”
Bemused by this exchange, Mr. Collins turned his attention to Charlotte, who had spoken little to this point. “Miss Lucas, what is your opinion on the matter?”
Charlotte seemed uneasy at being the center of attention. “I-I believe that a wife’s magic should be in the service of creating a loving household and meeting her husband’s needs.”
Mr. Collins’s head bobbed up and down in approval. “Well said.”
Charlotte blushed and ducked her head while the parson’s gaze lingered on her. Is Charlotte interested in Mr. Collins? Surely she could not be that desperate for a husband.
Elizabeth sneezed.
Mr. Collins’s head shot up. “I know an excellent spell to prevent sneezing—”
“That is not necessary—”
But Latin was already falling from her cousin’s mouth. He lashed a strand of ether toward her like a whip—surely the most violent anti-sneezing spell that Elizabeth had ever witnessed. Before she could react, Charlotte calmly held up a hand in front of her friend. “Avert.”
The ether bounced off Charlotte’s hand and hit the inside of the carriage door with some force, sparking a small fire in the upholstery. “Aquis.” Charlotte caused a little rain cloud to appear and douse the upholstery in water before evaporating.
The two men stared at Charlotte in dumbfounded amazement. Elizabeth nearly laughed. She had forgotten how good her friend was with deflection spells.
“M-My apologies, Miss Lucas,” Mr. Collins stammered at her—as if she, and not Elizabeth, had been the unintended victim of his magical misfire.
Charlotte folded her hands primly in her lap. “No apology necessary, sir,” she assured him. “We all have moments when our magic refuses to cooperate.” Some of us more than others.
The parson laughed uneasily. “Well said. Yes, well said.”
Elizabeth suspected she was witnessing the most bizarre flirtation in the history of the world. After a moment her cousin cleared his throat. “Miss Lucas, I would be quite remiss if I did not tell you a little more about the history of the place we will visit.”
“Please do.”
Thus, the last hours of the journey were filled with rapturous descriptions of Rosings Park’s many delights. The recitation was familiar to Elizabeth, but Charlotte seemed enchanted by every word.
***
The Rosings Park library indeed proved to be a treasure trove of magical lore.
It was an enormous room, two stories tall, with old-fashioned dark wood furnishings and a rolling ladder to access the top shelves.
The work of many generations of de Bourghs, the library held histories, biographies, guides, and books of magical theory.
But its genealogical records were the crown jewel of the collection—with some lineages stretching back to before William the Conqueror.
According to Mr. Darcy, magical scholars from as far away as Italy regularly visited Rosings to do research.
The sheer volume of books and other records made their task a daunting one.
They skimmed through family trees, books of magical history, and biographies, searching for any hint of a mage who could open portals with ease.
At the end of the first day, they had only examined a fraction of the library’s books and had found nothing that related to their present circumstances.