Chapter Twelve #2
Fortunately, their audience with Lady Margaret was not long. Elizabeth was quite relieved to adjourn to her bedchamber for an hour of rest before she prepared herself for dinner.
***
By the end of dinner Elizabeth found herself wishing that Lady Margaret’s cold formality was the worst trial she had to face; the Earl of Matlock was far worse. He regarded Elizabeth in particular with an appraising eye when they were introduced, perhaps wondering if she was angling after his son?
During the meal he barely acknowledged the Bennet sisters. Instead, he regaled his son and nephew with stories from the House of Lords and complaints about how the Council was setting policies on magical use.
Elizabeth had encountered his sort before. He believed his wealth and position exempted him from the usual constraints of good manners. No doubt another contributor to his impoliteness was the wine glass by his elbow, which a footman was careful to keep full.
Near the end of the meal, the earl asked Mr. Darcy, “Why were you in Hertfordshire of all places when Richard needed to rescue you?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam chuckled. “He hardly needed rescuing, Papa.”
The earl remained focused on his nephew. “Why were you consorting with the local rustics?” he asked with a sloppy sneer.
Mr. Darcy’s face went very still, wiped of all expression. After a moment, he said, “I will allow Miss Elizabeth to tell that story. I am certain it is most amusing from her perspective.”
The earl scowled, but Elizabeth gave Mr. Darcy an appreciative smile. “I do not know all the particulars, but my sister Jane and I found Mr. Darcy floating in the River Lea along a part of the shore that belongs to my family’s estate.” That would remind the earl that she was a gentleman’s daughter.
“My goodness!” the countess exclaimed.
“It is my understanding that he had been on some Agency business that went awry.”
“Very badly awry,” Mr. Darcy agreed.
“Jane and I pulled him from the river. I helped restart his breathing. Then my father and his footman took him to the house.”
Lady Margaret’s eyes were round with amazement as she realized how close she had come to losing her nephew. “Thank God!”
“Yes, yes, quite fortunate.” The earl gestured with his wine glass. “You must have thanked providence that a man of such fortune arrived at your family’s doorstep.”
The colonel rolled his eyes, and Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to object, but Elizabeth spoke first. “We thanked God for his life—as we would for anyone’s life.
” A disgruntled expression passed over the earl’s face at the rebuke.
“We were pleased to welcome him to our home and help him recover. For the entirety of his stay with us, we thought he was a wool merchant from London.”
“It was necessary to conceal my presence since I had reason to believe the enemy was searching for me,” Mr. Darcy explained.
“A wool merchant!” The earl laughed raucously, slapping the table with his open palm. “Imagine that! Darcy: a wool merchant.” The countess tittered a bit, but the others sat in a strained silence.
“I was impressed that he was well-read and well-mannered for a wool merchant, not to mention extremely knowledgeable about magic.” Elizabeth caught Mr. Darcy’s eye and was rewarded with a warm look.
“It was not until Mr. Bingley arrived in Hertfordshire that my family learned Mr. Darcy’s true name. ”
The earl waggled a finger at her. “So that is when you baited your hook for him? Eh? Or were you content with a mere wool merchant? I suppose beggars cannot be choosers.”
Mr. Darcy gasped, and Elizabeth felt her face flush, but the earl continued—pointing to Jane.
“And, I suppose you have set your cap for Richard here.” He indicated his youngest son with a jerk of his chin.
“But I warn you, like Darcy, he must marry an heiress of good breeding. My eldest, Edward, disgraced the family name, and we cannot afford another scandal.” He gestured expansively to both women, slurring his words.
“So you must go fishing in other ponds.” He laughed raucously, a hollow sound in the silent room.
The countess stood abruptly and gave a signal to a footman. “Walter, that is quite enough. It is past time for you to retire.” He regarded her belligerently for a moment but then shrugged and slumped in his chair.
The footman pulled the earl’s chair from the table. Then he and another footman helped the earl to his feet in what was clearly a practiced routine. He muttered under his breath as he stumbled from the room but did not object.
Mr. Darcy’s eyes widened as he followed these proceedings, but the colonel’s expression was resigned. Lady Margaret’s face was pale but composed as she resumed her seat. She took a long gulp of wine, set down the cup, and turned to her son. “Do you believe it will rain tomorrow?”
***
Following that disastrous dinner, Darcy experienced no compunction about escorting Elizabeth to her assigned bedchamber.
Let his aunt construe his actions as she wished.
He would rejoin the others for a ritual of cards and conversation following the meal, but he indulged himself to steal a few minutes with Elizabeth when she pleaded fatigue and announced she would retire early.
When he recalled how his uncle had embarrassed Elizabeth, Darcy’s cheeks burned with shame. He had needed to restrain an impulse to strike the man. In a whispered aside, Richard had said his father’s drinking had recently grown worse, but even he had never witnessed such crass behavior.
Now he and Elizabeth stood in the entrance to her bedchamber, oddly reluctant to part even for one night.
“I must apologize for my uncle’s words…and conduct,” he said.
“I do not hold you accountable for your family’s behavior. You do not hold me accountable for mine.” A smile briefly appeared on her lips.
“I have never witnessed anyone in your family behave in a deliberately cruel way. And my uncle is an earl. He should adhere to a higher standard. He believes he has superior manners.”
“What did he mean when he mentioned his son Edward?”
Darcy blew out a breath. It was a difficult subject. “Two years ago, my cousin Edward was executed by the Council for the use of dark magic.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Executed! How terrible.”
Darcy closed his eyes briefly. It had been a difficult time for the entire family, and he did not want to remember it.
“Edward had been his parents’ favorite and excessively indulged.
They were blind to his wanton and cruel behavior.
Richard and I were saddened but not astonished that he turned to dark magic; he was a bully to us when we were children. ”
“Surely such executions are rare!”
“Indeed. The Council prefers imprisonment. But they found that Edward had murdered another man with his pyromancy.” While mancy could be used in self-defense or for law enforcement activities, the penalty for murder with magic was death.
“It was a dispute over a gambling debt. Even then my uncle might have convinced them to give a sentence of life in prison. However, Edward killed someone else in an attempt to conceal the first murder. The Council captured him, put him on trial, and condemned him to death.”
“That must have been devastating for the family.”
“Yes. The Council kept the affair out of the papers, but everyone in the ton knew. My aunt was a ghost of herself for a long time; only recently has she ventured out in society again. My uncle never speaks about the business, but he imbibes excessively.”
“This is why you need to marry a woman of good breeding.”
“Indeed, particularly after my father’s…misbehavior.” Following Edward’s execution, his aunt had cried herself dry. His uncle had been practically a sleepwalker. John had avoided London, leaving the others to shoulder the burden.
“Since Richard and I are the only unmarried men in the family, my aunt and uncle believe that our marriages are necessary to restore the family honor. But recently I realized that it should not be my responsibility.” He regarded her solemnly.
“It is far more important to follow the dictates of my heart.”
“Of course,” she murmured with her eyes downcast.
“I beg you not to take my uncle’s words to heart,” Darcy said. “I do not credit them, nor do my friends and family.”
Her laugh was bitter. “You did not want to marry me because of such sentiments. Surely they will follow me if I choose to enter your world.”
The doubt in her voice sent anxiety creeping through Darcy. He had believed she would accept his proposal eventually. We have an understanding. It is only a matter of time. But he could not dismiss her doubts. Some in his circle would view Elizabeth as beneath them, and he could not prevent that.
He reached out and pulled her toward him, enfolding her in his embrace. “I will do my best to protect you. You will always be loved.”
Her stiff body relaxed against his as she rested her head upon his chest—a good sign. He delicately stroked her curls with his fingertips. “Perhaps the situation will appear less hopeless in the morning.” She sighed and nuzzled his chest.
His breath caught as her actions triggered unexpected feelings throughout his body.
“You are still recovering from the blow to your head. Of course you are fatigued. But tomorrow you may sleep as long as you would like. My uncle’s house will be safe; he has purchased many magical protections.
Naturally, I will return to guard your door later in the evening. ”
“It is not all necessary. Your back must be quite tender after so many nights on the floor.”
“I will not risk losing you again.”
“What will your aunt and uncle think when you position yourself across my doorway?”
“They will think I am quite devoted to the well-being of the woman who saved my life. Which I am.” He took her hand and gently kissed the back.
“Surely they will guess your feelings run deeper.”
“They already suspect—which is good. They might as well accustom themselves to the idea.” He turned her hand over and daringly kissed her palm.
She shuddered. “You are a dangerous man.”
He gave her a wicked grin. “Of course, my preference would be to guard you from within your room, but my aunt and uncle would be scandalized.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “Mr. Darcy!”
“Please call me William.”
“Perhaps I should not if you speak so scandalously.” She laughed.
“It is not only my speech that is scandalous.” He could restrain himself no longer.
His lips descended on hers for a searing kiss.
Nothing else existed but the pleasure of her lips and her warm body pressing against his.
He longed to exist in this moment forever.
Suspended in time. Two pairs of lips touching. Two bodies perpetually intertwined.
Unfortunately, Darcy’s body was enjoying the sensations a bit too much.
He pulled back and stepped away from her, immediately regretting the loss of her warmth.
“I must cease now while I can still call myself a gentleman.” He took a moment to get his ragged breathing back under control.
“Richard and I will likely be away—visiting the director—before you awake,” he said.
“I should go with you. Vivomancy may be the only power that can fight necromancy.”
“If Cranston is the one hunting you, the last thing we should do is take you to him. We hope to learn the truth during our visit. Fortunately, he is not likely to start a fight in the Council building.”
She pressed both of her hands on the front of his jacket. “Please be careful.”
He could not help but be touched by her concern. “I will. I promise.” She was swaying on her feet. “You should sleep. Good night, Elizabeth.”
“Good night, Mr. D—William.”
He watched until the door closed behind her—and the lock clicked.
***
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Darcy was in good spirits as he and Richard rode out the next morning. Elizabeth was as safe as possible, and she apparently viewed his courtship ever more favorably. At times he had despaired they would ever reach that point.
However, as he and Richard grew closer to the Council complex, his mood grew more somber.
Richard, who had worked with the Agency’s director, Viscount Cranston, far more closely, was downright grim.
Finally, he said, “Darcy, we cannot simply waltz into the ministry and accuse the director of being a necromancer! That would be foolish as well as rude.”
“That was not my plan,” Darcy responded calmly. “I thought I would ask some questions and you could use your verimancy to determine whether he is telling the truth.”
Richard frowned. “He knows about my magic. He will not attempt to lie in my presence.”
“Evasive answers will give us useful information as well,” Darcy noted. “Leave the questions to me. Just signal to me if he is telling the truth.”
“And if he is the necromancer, what are we to do? He might attack us if he realizes we guess the truth.”
“He cannot summon wights during the day,” Darcy reminded his cousin. “The Council building is full of mancers. Striking at us would be inadvisable. If he does, we can summon many other mages to help us.”
“I can conceive of many flaws in this purported ‘plan’ of yours,” Richard grumbled.
Darcy sighed. “No doubt. But we do not have the luxury of time to devise a better strategy.”
His cousin nodded a weary acknowledgement and led the way through the gates into the Council complex. Darcy could only hope they were not being foolhardy in confronting a dark magic practitioner this way. Perhaps they should have recruited others to help. Well, it was too late now.