Mr. Darcy’s Enchantment

Chapter 1 #2

He tipped his head. “A veritable hit, Miss Bennet. I cannot deny Lady Catherine’s pleasure in correcting others, although I cannot believe she has found you in any need of correction.”

Her musical laugh sounded freer and more genuine than he had heard from her since arriving in Kent. “I beg to differ! I would be happy to list all the faults she has found in me, but I imagine Meggy might become impatient after the first hour or so.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Very neatly done! If I now suggest you cannot possibly have so many faults, you will ask me which faults I believe you do have.”

Elizabeth dramatically pressed her hand to her chest. “You have spotted my devious plan. Alas, that I should be too clever to please your aunt, and not clever enough for you!”

“Miss Bennet!” The girl tugged at Elizabeth’s arm, her face suddenly ashen.

Elizabeth bent down to speak to the girl. “What is it, Meggy?”

Meggy whispered something, a tear running down her cheek.

Elizabeth straightened and looked past Darcy with an odd, arrested expression. She reached surreptitiously into the reticule pinned to her waist.

“Is something the matter?” Darcy asked. There were no dangers in the grove, but perhaps this was a game.

“Mr. Darcy, I pray you to listen to me very carefully,” Elizabeth said levelly. “Remain still. Do not move a muscle.”

She darted around him, and he heard thrashing in the bushes. “You wretched little creature! You may not bite him,” she scolded. “Besides, he would taste sour.”

Shrill keening was followed by a squeaky voice shrieking, “Let me go! Let me go! It burns!”

So there really was something. Judging it now safe to move, Darcy turned to see Elizabeth holding up a creature no more than two feet tall by the back collar of its shirt. The fay’s tiny hands clung to his red stocking cap and his legs kicked wildly.

“Now listen to me,” said Elizabeth sternly. “This is my place and you cannot come here. If I find you anywhere nearby, I will do worse to you than this.”

“It burns! It burns!” the redcap squealed, displaying a mouthful of pointed teeth.

“Go, and do not return!” Elizabeth flung the creature into the bushes. Shrill howls echoed as it ran away.

“You can see redcaps?” Darcy was stunned.

She smiled ruefully. “I suppose I gave myself away. He was about to bite you. You see the fay as well, then?”

“Guilty as charged, although I have never spoken to one. What did you do to him?”

She held up her hand, showing a few iron filings clinging to her palm. “I put iron shavings under his shirt. He will not forget that quickly.”

“Do you always carry iron shavings?” he asked. Few people worried that much about encountering the fay.

She gave him an impudent smile. “Only when I think they might be useful.”

The little girl quavered, “Is it gone?”

“He is gone, Meggy, and he did not bite anyone.” Elizabeth looked up at Darcy. “Her brother was bitten by a redcap and is still very ill from the poison, so she is frightened of them now.”

Darcy frowned. Usually redcaps avoided people unless they were attacked. “Was your brother teasing the redcap?”

Meggy wiped away her tears, her grubby hand leaving a dirty streak across her cheek. “He wasn’t doing anything, just sitting by the hearth. He’s too old to see the fay, but I saw it.”

Darcy recoiled. “In your house? Do you not have wards to keep out malicious fay?”

Elizabeth made a face. “Lady Catherine has deemed it unnecessary to have the old wards renewed, except at Rosings itself, of course. She says fay folk will not come near a good Christian. Therefore, if anyone is troubled by the fay, it means they are not good Christians and unworthy of her protection.”

Darcy snorted. “That is ridiculous.”

“I know.” Elizabeth dusted the last of the iron filings from her hands. “Unfortunately, Meggy’s brother and the two other townsfolk who have been bitten are paying the price.”

“Three people have been attacked by redcaps?” asked Darcy in disbelief. “I have heard of recent fay attacks elsewhere, but here they always left people alone unless they were threatened.”

“No doubt that was true once. Something has changed, but I do not know what.” She wiped Meggy’s face clean with her handkerchief.

“Lady Catherine has said nothing about fay attacks,” he said, half to himself.

“I cannot think why. Even if no one has told her about the redcap bites, a man was killed by elfshot last month.” She sounded irritated.

“Meggy, I will make certain the wards on your house are renewed so you can be safe inside it.” What was Lady Catherine thinking to let the wards lapse?

“What do you say, Meggy?” prompted Elizabeth .

“Thank you, sir,” the girl whispered.

Elizabeth said, “I would appreciate it, too, especially as there is no wisewoman here to treat illnesses caused by the fay. The poisoned bites would not have become so serious if there were one, but Lady Catherine forced the last wisewoman to leave. Charlotte and I gave the boy some herbal simples, but it is not the same.”

Darcy’s mouth twisted. “A wisewoman? You mean a hedge witch?”

Elizabeth stiffened. “You may call them that if you choose,” she said coolly. “Meggy, perhaps we should go on instead of bothering Mr. Darcy.”

He did not want her to leave, especially not when she was unhappy with him again. “Wait! I did not mean to offend you.”

She thawed a bit. “Wisewomen are insulted by that term. Most of them have spent a lifetime learning their craft, and if they do live in the hedges, it is because mages have left them no other choice,” she said defiantly. “The wisewoman near Longbourn is very knowledgeable about healing and she has saved lives.”

“You are perhaps under misapprehension. I have no objection to hedge – to wisewomen as long as they do no sorcery.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “That is very generous of you.” This time there was definitely irony in her voice.

He did not want to be in conflict with her. Perhaps it would please her if he talked to the girl again. “Meggy, have you seen anything interesting here in the grove?”

The girl shook her head and buried her face in Elizabeth’s skirt again. Why was she frightened now?

“We might as well confess, since I have already been caught out,” said Elizabeth with a rueful laugh. “Meggy wanted to see a dryad.”

Darcy eyed her doubtfully. Was she teasing him? “I have never seen a dryad here. ”

“They are probably shy of you.” Elizabeth absently rubbed her neck just below her ear. “I see them here most days, tending to the trees.”

Was this a fanciful story she was weaving to amuse the girl? “I am sorry if I have chased away your entertainment. Is there something I can do to make the dryads more comfortable?”

She drew her brows together. “Will you promise not to hurt them?”

“Of course. They are doing no harm, are they?”

“No. Perhaps if you and Meggy sit on the bench, I can convince one to come out.”

Now she was definitely pretending. How could Elizabeth Bennet draw out the fay? “Very well.” He walked to the stone bench and sat down. Meggy timidly joined him, careful to sit as far from him as she could. At least the girl seemed to know her place.

Elizabeth went past them, off the path, and into the trees. “If there is a dryad here, I would count it a great kindness if you would permit yourself to be seen by my friends. The little girl is very worried about her ill brother, and she has always wished to see a dryad, even if only for a moment.” She returned to sit between the two of them.

Now Darcy appreciated the little girl’s presence, since it meant Elizabeth had to sit close enough to him that he could feel the pressure of her arm against his and catch the aroma of sweet lavender she wore. He would believe any faerie story she wished if she would stay this close to him.

“Will they come?” whispered Meggy.

“Perhaps they will, and perhaps not,” said Elizabeth kindly. “They are shy around mortals.”

“Look!” Wide-eyed, the girl pointed at a large oak, where several strips of turquoise silk fluttered in the breeze.

How had Elizabeth managed to set that up so quickly? It was clever, though. Now the girl would go home happy, thinking she had seen a dryad.

Then Darcy caught his breath as half of a pale, elongated face with tip-tilted eyes and high cheekbones peeked out from behind the oak. An unnaturally slender arm, half hidden by floating silk, reached out and beckoned to the child.

“Go to her,” urged Elizabeth, who did not seem surprised by the apparition. “She will not hurt you.” Her hand descended on Darcy’s arm, warning him not to move.

Meggy’s mouth hung open in shock as she hesitantly tiptoed towards the dryad. The fay creature stepped out from the oak, dressed in filmy silks that only half concealed her delicate legs. She took the child’s hands and leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. Then she disappeared behind the oak again.

Elizabeth called out to the empty air, “I will not forget your kindness and generosity.”

“How did you do that?” asked Darcy in astonishment.

A gentle smile lit Elizabeth’s face. “Just good fortune. I am surprised she did so much, as they never approach me. Perhaps it was because I asked on behalf of a child.”

Meggy returned to them, looking half mesmerized. “She was so beautiful,” she sighed.

Darcy said slowly, “I have never been so close to one of the fay. Usually I only see them at a distance.”

Elizabeth’s lips quivered. “Perhaps it is because you are a mage,” she said archly. Then she looked away. “But usually that is all I see as well. Come, Meggy, I should take you back to your mother now that you have seen your dryad.”

He did not want her to leave, not so soon after that magical moment. “May I walk with you?”

“If you wish,” she said guardedly.

“I would like to see the location of these cottages that need their wards renewed.” That would please her, would it not?

She seemed to relax a little. “Very well.”

THE BOY TOMMY WAS FEVERISH today, a bad sign, but Elizabeth felt none of the tingling sensation of magic when she laid her hand on his ankle. Unwrapping the bandage revealed red, swollen skin above the wound and two red streaks traveling up his leg. She laid the back of her fingers against one of the red streaks. Burning hot.

“Infected,” she said quietly to Charlotte.

“Can you do anything to help?”

Elizabeth grimaced. “Very little under my current limitations.” If only Mr. Darcy would go away! Then she could use her magic to give the boy a fighting chance.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” asked Mrs. Miller.

“It isn’t good. How long has he had the fever?” asked Elizabeth.

“It started last night.”

Elizabeth bit her lip. “I had best clean the wound. Is there a basin of water?” She took out clean rags and some herbal simples from her satchel, more for something to do than because she thought they might help.

If she did nothing, the infection might improve on its own, but more likely it would progress. The leg would have to be amputated – most surgeons would be suggesting that already – and even then Tommy might die. If she used her magic, he would have a better chance of recovery, but there would be no guarantee. But if Mr. Darcy caught her using magic, he would put her under a binding spell, and she would lose everything that made her herself. She had seen Mrs. Goulding after she was spell-bound. It had made her slow-witted, nervous, and fretful. It was a choice between her mind and Tommy’s leg, if not his life .

If only she knew more about the abilities of mages! They were half a mile from Rosings. Would Mr. Darcy be able to sense her using magic from that far? Perhaps she was worrying too much. If mages could sense magic half a mile away, they would have caught every woman with magic years ago. But Mr. Darcy had been watching her so closely. Did that make a difference?

Perhaps she could wait until late tonight when Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam would likely be asleep. But how would she explain to the boy’s mother that she wished to treat him in the middle of the night rather than now? The infection could be much worse by then, too.

“This is going to hurt.” She dipped a rag into the water his mother had brought and began to gently cleanse the bite wound.

The boy moaned. “Make it go away!”

“Not much more now, Tommy. You are being very brave.” It hurt to see his suffering.

She had to do it. If she did not take the risk, she would never be able to look at herself in a mirror again. Magic was the only thing she could do to help him, so she would use magic and hope that the distance from Rosings was enough that the mages there would not notice.

Elizabeth placed her fingers on Tommy’s ankles and felt for his life force. There it was, a little weak, but it was enough to work with.

A knock at the cottage door broke her concentration. As the boy’s mother answered it, Elizabeth lifted her hands. Better to wait until they were alone again.

A familiar voice said, “I am Darcy, the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I am here to renew the wards on your cottage.”

Elizabeth jumped backwards, her heart pounding. Thank God she had not truly started yet! Her stomach churned at her narrow escape. She surreptitiously pulled the blanket over Tommy’s wound.

“Oh, come in, Mr. Darcy,” said Mrs. Miller. “We would be very grateful to have the wards renewed. ”

Darcy ducked his head to step inside the cottage. “I did not realize you had callers.” He bowed to Elizabeth and Charlotte.

“Young Tommy is very ill,” said Charlotte. “We came to see if there was anything we could do to help.”

“I am sorry to hear it. Is this the boy who was bitten by a redcap?” he asked Elizabeth.

“Yes.” Oh, why had she told him anything about the boy?

Charlotte appeared to reach a decision and stepped closer to whisper something to Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth took advantage of his distraction to fade further back into the shadows. She could hardly believe he had almost caught her in the act of using magic.

“I have no particular talent for healing, but I know the basic spells for treating common problems,” Darcy told Charlotte.

“Would you condescend so far as to see if Tommy’s injury is something you might be able to help with?”

Darcy moved to stand at Elizabeth’s side. “Do you think it is a fay spell?” he asked her quietly.

She somehow managed to find her voice. “It started that way, but now the problem is infection.”

“There is a spell for drawing out infection. It rarely solves the problem completely, but it often improves matters. I could try that.”

Why was he looking at her? “Mrs. Miller, Mr. Darcy is a mage. Would you like him to use magic on Tommy’s wound?”

“I’d take help from the devil himself,” said Mrs. Miller, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s that worried I am.”

Elizabeth carefully drew back the blanket to reveal the injury.

Mr. Darcy studied Tommy’s leg, looking at it first from one direction and then another. With a pained expression, he pushed aside the deadly nightshade vine. “What nonsense,” he muttered. He began murmuring in Latin, dipped his forefinger into the water and put two drops side by side above the wound and two just below. Elizabeth felt the tingle of building magic as he passed his hand over the wound.

Nothing seemed to happen as Darcy finished reciting the spell. He said, “Now we must wait for the poisons to flow out of the wound. It may take some time.” But a cloudy fluid was already beginning to fill the bite. “I can check the wards in the meantime.”

He paced along the wall and stopped near a corner. He turned his back on the others to begin the warding spell. Elizabeth could not make out the hand gestures he made, and he was apparently careful not to speak the spell itself loud enough to be overheard. Elizabeth curled her lip. Typical mage behavior, making certain no one else could learn their skills.

She refused to stand there and gawk at him. Instead she tended to Tommy, wiping away the fluid trickling out of the bite. The red streaks running up his leg were already beginning to fade. Nothing she could have done would have worked so quickly or so well. It should have relieved her, but instead anger surged through her. It was not fair. Darcy had the opportunity to study magery and to learn skills and spells instead of having to fumble to discover how to use his magic. Not fair at all.

Elizabeth was still seething when she and Charlotte left the cottage, long after Darcy had finished renewing the wards. “I am glad for Tommy’s sake, but the Millers could never have afforded to pay a mage to heal him. Darcy happened to be feeling charitable, or more likely he wanted to look charitable, and so he deigned to help out. I would help boys like Tommy without charging money, but I am not permitted to learn how to do so, and I can be punished if I even dare to try. It is infuriating!”

“Still, it was kind of him to help when I asked,” said Charlotte reasonably. “He need not have obliged. And it is not his fault that women cannot receive the same training as men.”

“No, but he is content to be part of the Collegium that enforces those rules,” Elizabeth muttered. “I cannot forgive him for that.”

DARCY HURRIED THROUGH the gate to the formal gardens of Rosings Park. It was faster that way and would give him a chance to change his clothes before calling on Elizabeth. Would her warm smiles be back now that she had seen him help the sick boy?

He had just reached the Italian Garden when he felt her presence, that subtle relaxing of the pressure of the elements, and his yearning hunger for her began grow. Then he saw her, perched on the edge of the fountain, her gloves beside her and her fingertips trailing in the pool. It made an enchanting picture, one that took his breath away, at least until she spotted him and pulled her hand out of the water.

Darcy halted and bowed, pleasure in every breath now that he was in her presence. “Good day, Miss Elizabeth. I had not realized you were fond of these gardens.”

“In general, I prefer the grove, but today I was in the mood for flowers planted in straight lines. Lady Catherine told me I might walk in the gardens whenever I pleased so long as I was in no one’s way.” She added archly, “I hope I am not in your way.”

It would be unwise to tell her just how much he liked having her in his way. “Not at all. I am on my way back from the village, and this route is more direct than the road.”

“It is kind of you to renew the wards. I would not have imagined you would take that kind of work on yourself.” There was a slight edge to her voice.

Was she implying it was beneath him? Of course, he would usually think so, too. “The villagers need protection during these fay attacks, and I have a certain responsibility for the tenants of Rosings, including the village.”

She tilted her head. “Is that not Lady Catherine’s duty?”

“She does much of the day-to-day estate management because she prefers it that way, and I have seen no reason to interfere, but the estate belongs to Miss de Bourgh, and I am her guardian.” If only he could kiss her rosy lips instead of making nonsensical chatter!

“You are? It must be challenging to be guardian to a woman your own age.”

“My father was originally named as her guardian. I inherited the responsibility after his death.” It was a nuisance he would generally prefer to avoid, but it was that same guardianship that had forced him to come to Rosings each year, and without that he would not have seen Elizabeth again.

“I hope Lady Catherine has not objected to the wards being renewed.”

“I did not discuss the matter with her. It needed to be done, and so I have done it. Unless she wishes to dig each ward out of the walls, she has little choice but to tolerate it.” He did not want to waste his time with Elizabeth talking about his aunt or the wards.

Elizabeth reached behind her to trail her fingers in the fountain pool again. It was at once innocent and sensual, the movement exposing the curves of her body. She could have been a water nymph sitting there, and he was the Greek god desperate to possess her. How could he keep himself from touching her, twining his fingers with hers and then moving on to stroke her shapely arms, his body demanding more and more from her –

With a cry of surprise, Elizabeth yanked her hand out of the water, staring at it in shock.

“What is the matter?” Darcy asked.

“The water! Only my fingertips were in it, but the water crept up my hand and wrist!” Her disturbance was evident. “Did you cast a spell?” she accused.

“Not a spell as such, but it is my fault.” How could he have lost control like that? He wanted to sink into the ground. “My magic is elemental, and water has a particular affinity for me. When I am this close to a body of water, it can misbehave unless I make an effort to keep it quiet. I failed to pay sufficient attention to it, and I apologize for that.”

Elizabeth continued to stare down at her hand. “Water is not alive. How can it have an affinity for you?”

“Lodestones are not alive, either, yet they turn to point to the north. Natural philosophers have argued about water’s affinity for centuries. Some would say that my presence agitates the aetheric vibrations which keep the water in place. Others would say it is a relic of some fay traces in my blood. I have yet to see a convincing explanation of why I can do this.” He pressed his palms together and slowly separated them by a foot or so. The water in the fountain obediently retreated to each side, leaving a dry space in the middle.

Elizabeth eyed him warily. “That is uncanny. And it is not a spell?”

“No, although there are spells which could do similar things. I simply concentrate on the water and what I wish it to do. Left to itself, without my efforts to keep it quiet, it would do this.” He crossed his arms and withdrew from the constant calming refrain in his mind.

The water inched towards him, splashing over the edge of the fountain and running in rivulets towards his boots. It was slower than usual, most likely because Elizabeth’s odd ability to suppress some of his effect on the elements. “That is why I say it has an affinity for me.” He resumed his calming thoughts and the water stopped splashing out of the fountain. “My moods can affect water, too.” He never told people these things, but she ought to know what she would be facing if he offered for her.

Elizabeth touched one of the rivulets. “Not an illusion, then,” she said, as if to herself. “But I have never seen that happen to you before.”

“Usually I am telling the water not to do that.”

“All the time?” She sounded disbelieving .

“All the time. I had a very wet childhood until I learned to control it.”

That seemed to amuse her. “I suppose it is a useful skill to have.”

“No. It is not useful at all.” He had not meant to sound abrupt, but the subject rankled. “Apart from parlor tricks like these and telling people the best place to dig a well, I am forbidden from using it.”

“Forbidden? By whom?”

“The Collegium. It is a dangerous ability and easy to misuse. If there is drought in my lands and I draw water to my wells, someone else’s wells go dry. If I divert floodwaters from my doorstep, another house is flooded as a result. And while water is my primary affinity, I can also set fires with a thought. I am forbidden that, too.”

She nodded slowly. “They are afraid of you.”

“Rightly so. I could wreak havoc if I chose.”

“So they are willing to trust you to follow their rules, but not to use your powers wisely.”

And that was why it rankled. “More or less.”

She turned her hand palm up and looked down at it. “I do not understand one thing. Why did the water go up my arm instead of moving towards you?”

Of course Elizabeth had seen that one flaw in his explanation. How could he extricate himself from this predicament? Perhaps he should simply say he did not know. Or perhaps it was a sign that he should stop fighting the inevitable. “I was thinking about your arm. The water must have followed my thoughts.”

She stood, color rising on her cheeks. “Mr. Darcy, I believe it is time for me to go.”

He held up his hand. “Wait, I beg you. I meant no disrespect.”

“You were respectfully thinking about my arm? I am not a fool, Mr. Darcy. Good day.”

He dodged around her to block her path. He could not allow her to leave him in anger. “I assure you my intentions are honorable.” The words had spilled out before he had known what he was saying.

She turned slowly to face him again, her eyes wide. “What did you say?” she asked dubiously.

He had started, and now he must go on. “I had not meant to speak today, but apparently I must, since my feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I have wished to make you my wife since shortly after we met, and my feelings have only grown stronger since then. I have fought against them. I cannot deny that I have tried to avoid this connection. Your father’s position in life is acceptable, although lower than mine, but your mother’s birth is otherwise. More importantly, the inappropriate behavior of your mother, younger sisters, and even occasionally your father caused me to hesitate, and had my attraction to you been any less intense, I could not have –”

“Mr. Darcy, I pray you to say no more,” interrupted Elizabeth firmly. “While I am honored by the great compliment of your attentions, any connection between us is impossible. In addition to the obstacles you have mentioned, I resolved long ago never to marry a mage, and nothing will induce me to change my mind. I am sorry for any disappointment it may occasion you. For our peace of mind, let us say nothing more on the subject.”

Darcy stared at her incredulously. “That you would refuse me comes as a surprise, I admit, but that you should do so because I am a mage? Because I was born with powers I did not request and have spent years learning to suppress? You might as well refuse me because I have brown eyes.”

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “Pardon me. I should have been clearer. It is not because you have magical powers, but because you are a member of the Collegium of Mages. If you belonged to a society of brown-eyed men who were determined to subdue all blue-eyed men by means fair and foul, then yes, I would refuse you for having brown eyes. But it does not matter, since I have other reasons as well.” She tried to move past him.

This time anger made him stand in her way. “Oh? Will you be so kind as to enlighten me as to my other faults?” He bit out the words.

Elizabeth paled. “All of us have flaws, and I do not think a recitation of them would reflect well on either of us. Suffice to say that I must refuse your very flattering offer.”

“I wish to know why.” He spoke through gritted teeth.

She kept her silence for a moment, and then the words began to pour out. “Very well. I do not like your proud and disdainful attitude to anyone beneath your station. It is abhorrent to me, especially your carelessness towards the devastation it causes. Need I explain that you have ruined the happiness of my beloved sister, who still suffers from heartbreak because you thought she was not good enough for your friend? If that is still not sufficient reason for my refusal, Mr. Wickham told me how he lost his ability to earn his living as a mage since you had him expelled from the Collegium because of his low birth.”

Darcy clenched his fists. “George Wickham is a liar. He was expelled from the Collegium for using his magic to cheat at cards. It had nothing to do with his station in life. If you do not believe me, I suggest you ask Colonel Fitzwilliam, who can tell you the entire tale.”

Elizabeth took a step backwards, clearly struggling to contain her own feelings. “I grant you I have no proof as to which of your stories is true, but you yourself showed your disdain for my low connections just minutes ago.”

“Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations, whose condition in life is so decidedly beneath my own?” He could not stop himself.

“You should be relieved I refused you, then, since you have no idea how low my connections go. I can help a boy who is attacked by redcaps because for years I served as the assistant to a wisewoman, or as you would say, a hedge witch, a crone whose father was nothing more than a tenant farmer. She was going blind and could not do her work without someone who could see fay and their traces, and I was the only one she could find. And I admire her, even though she is far beneath me in birth. Now you see why I cannot marry a mage, a man who would imprison her with a binding spell merely because she is female. You should be grateful for my refusal. You are the last man in the world I could be prevailed upon to marry.”

Each of her words hit him like a dagger. That she should think so ill of him! There was nothing to do for it but to retreat and hope that someday this agonizing emptiness would fade. “You do not know me at all. Pray forgive me for having taken so much of your time.” He turned and strode away, his shoulders stiff.