Chapter Five
Only one panicked thought pushed its way through Darcy’s mind. No. Not her! Not Elizabeth.
Elizabeth regarded her father guiltily. Mary shrunk backward as if she would prefer to be somewhere else.
“Yes, she—” Bennet started to say when the truth struck Darcy.
“By God! You are a vivomancer!” Vivomancy gave a mage control over all life and living things.
Plants, animals, human bodies: anything that was alive was subject to the vivomancer’s power.
But it was a talent that only appeared once or twice in a generation.
Darcy knew of one vivomancer who lived in London and another who resided in Northumberland, but they were both advanced in years.
She nodded, appearing almost relieved that her secret had been revealed.
In the next moment, Darcy doubted his conclusion “But surely I would have heard if another vivomancer had been discovered.” Mr. Dee the wool merchant might not have heard such news but Darcy, well acquainted with many members of the Council, certainly would have known.
Such a discovery would have been mentioned in the London papers.
“I am indeed a vivomancer,” Elizabeth said in a flat voice.
Without even a glance in his direction, she reached up to the low-hanging branches of a nearby tree, where she carefully plucked a robin’s egg from a nest. Holding it flat in her palm, she focused her attention on the egg.
Within seconds the egg cracked, and a squalling baby bird spilled into her hand.
Elizabeth had somehow accelerated the hatchling’s growth just as she had encouraged the thyme to grow.
Gently, she returned the baby bird to the nest with the remaining eggs, where the mother bird scolded her and took the hatchling under her wing.
Darcy gaped. He had never witnessed anything like this. Necromancers had control over death and dead things, but who enjoyed such control over life? “Why did I not know of this?” Darcy asked.
“We have kept it a secret,” Bennet said.
His gaze shifted from Elizabeth to her father. “Why?” Vivomancers were sought after and feted. She could help her family become extremely wealthy.
Bennet scowled. “I have no desire for my daughter’s life to become a circus, subject to the whims of the Council and regarded as a freak by the whole country.” A flicker of unease passed over Elizabeth’s face; she did not want it either.
Darcy opened his mouth to deny the fate of vivomancers, but truthfully, he had given it little thought.
He had never met the kingdom’s two vivomancers.
They were not part of the ton. However, the Council expected them to be available when they were needed, and they could be summoned at all hours—day or night.
He had heard that they lived well, but he wondered if they supposed they could say no to any request. Perhaps there was something to Bennet’s words.
Bennet watched him intently. “I hope we can trust you to keep our secret since we are keeping yours.”
“Of course,” Darcy murmured, still rather stunned. “I do not understand how you manage to conceal such a talent.”
“Most of the local people know me only as a healer,” Elizabeth said. “They do not know the full extent of my abilities.”
Longbourn’s isolation from the rest of Hertfordshire was beginning to make more sense.
The whole family must labor to hide Elizabeth’s magic from the neighborhood.
If her talent was widely known, people all over Britain would travel to Hertfordshire to prevail upon Elizabeth for healing of minor ailments, assistance in growing crops, control of wild animals, or any number of other requests.
The world abruptly tilted. Elizabeth rushed toward Darcy and grabbed his arm before he started to fall. Belatedly Bennet seized Darcy’s other arm. “Mr. Dee, perhaps you should sit.” Elizabeth’s words were more a command than a suggestion as she gestured to a nearby bench.
Only then did he realize how much his body was shaking. His legs could barely hold him up. He had expended more energy today than he had in many days, and he was perspiring freely in the warmth of the sun. No wonder he was flagging.
Elizabeth hovered beside him as he trudged to the bench and sat rather heavily on it.
Seating herself beside him, she placed her hand on his wrist and closed her eyes, no doubt extending her powers to examine his body.
After a moment she announced, “It is only excessive exertion. You should recover your strength after sitting for a few minutes. And I did give you a bit of a boost.” She glanced at her sister.
“Could you fetch Mr. Dee a glass of water?” Mary nodded and hastened away.
“I will rest my old bones over there.” Bennet gestured to a bench around a curve in the path. “Call me should Mr. Dee fall to the ground. I am not capable of picking him up, but I can summon a few footmen.” With an ironic smile, he ambled away.
Now that Darcy understood how Elizabeth’s mancy worked, he was even more inclined to heed her advice. Vivomancers could literally peer inside living beings and view how their bodies functioned.
“How did you learn your craft?” he asked her.
“I am mostly self-taught,” she responded. “My father purchased every book available on the subject. Although there are not many, and some are inaccurate.”
Even more impressive. Darcy had benefited from the instruction of tutors and professors at Cambridge, but Elizabeth had attained proficiency on her own.
Untrained magic could be dangerous; surely vivomancy was no exception.
He wanted to ask more about how her mancy operated, but Mr. Dee the wool merchant was not likely to have a particularly thorough understanding of magical theory.
Not for the first time he wished he could reveal the full truth to her.
In this setting, he found her completely enchanting. The sun highlighted bits of red in her hair and rendered her eyes almost as green as the grass.
Every time Darcy promised himself that he would quell his interest in her, she proved to be more fascinating. He realized he was staring at her and quickly averted his gaze.
It was past time for him to marry and sire an heir.
He had a responsibility to Pemberley. Yet he had never found a woman he longed to court seriously.
If he had found Elizabeth at one of the glittering balls of London, he would not have hesitated to pursue her.
She was everything he desired: witty, vivacious, and full of magic.
Why did she have to be the daughter of a country squire?
Under other circumstances, he might have permitted himself to fall in love with such a woman, but recent scandals in Darcy’s family demanded that he marry a woman of good breeding with a spotless reputation.
It would be better to avoid her company altogether.
Spending time with her was like peering in the window of a closed bakery and viewing the delicacies he could never taste.
There was nothing for it. In a few days he would quit Hertfordshire and would never lay eyes on Miss Elizabeth Bennet again. He should limit his time with her to ease the inevitable separation.
He lurched to his feet. “I am quite recovered.” She regarded him dubiously, but he forged ahead. “I should return to the house to rest.”
She hurried to her feet. “Of course.” She looped her arm through his, a friendly gesture, although they both recognized she was preventing him from stumbling. In this way, they slowly traced their way along the garden pathway toward Longbourn.
***
Ordinarily Elizabeth was not so bold with strange men, but she suspected her patient would be loath to admit he was unsteady on his feet.
Indeed, despite his cane, he stumbled a little on the gravel of the garden path, but Elizabeth was able to prevent him from falling. He grinned ruefully. “My mind supposes I am more recovered than my body is.”
“This is a common affliction among male patients,” she said acerbically.
“I do not enjoy being an invalid.”
He might be in trade, but everything about him suggested a man of great wealth. His speech was refined, and his manners were excellent. His clothing was of the highest quality and perfectly cut. And he had a habit of command, expecting that others would defer to his opinions and obey his orders.
He might not enjoy the privilege of rank, but he clearly possessed greater wealth than the Bennets—the kind of wealth that opened many doors in London.
She would not be surprised if he even attended the ton’s glittering balls, although she doubted he would take pleasure in them.
He was more than a simple wool merchant.
But Elizabeth supposed he was entitled to his privacy.
“Nobody does,” she observed. “But recovery requires patience. You are recovering from a head contusion, two knife wounds, a fever, a wrenched ankle, and an infection.”
After a moment, he said, “I suppose I should be grateful to be alive—let alone that I can walk and talk.”
“Truthfully, you are healing quickly. You should not be disappointed with your progress.”
“Do you know when I will be completely healed?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Your life energies grow stronger every day, but mancy cannot determine much more with precision.”
“How do you sense life energies?”
“I perceive them as colors,” she said. “Blue means all is well. Yellow is a sickly color, and red indicates a wound.”
“Can you cure anything?”
“Not at all. I do well with wounds and broken bones. But I cannot heal most natural occurrences – cancer, apoplexy, pox—although I can often ease the symptoms.
“How very fortunate for the neighborhood,” Mr. Dee said.
She grimaced. “They do not always share that perspective. Many people perceive any kind of mancy as witchcraft. They are suspicious even if they enjoy the benefits.”
“It is abominable that the neighborhood treats your family with suspicion because of two mancers in your midst.”
“Two? We have seven. We are all mancers.”