Page 14

As had become habit every morning, they practiced in the clearing where Elizabeth now stood stiffly across from Mr. Darcy.

She was at the ready, her palms itching with the magic she had summoned in preparation for the gentleman’s attack.

At the moment, they circled each other as though one of them would suddenly launch forward, yet that was not what happened during a magical battle.

Mr. Darcy spun and flung his arms forward as a pink light shot towards her. Her hands pushed forward, ejecting a bright light that engulfed the pink, then disappeared. A mist remained, but the remnant was harmless. It would not injure her or any animal who happened upon the vapour.

The gentleman across from her allowed a curve to his lips. “Your response was much quicker than a fortnight ago.”

“I did not consider the best path forward as I did then. My instincts led me.”

He stepped forward. “Just as it should be. If you have a firm enough grasp on countercharms and spells, you are better prepared and will respond without a great deal of deliberation over the matter.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. Her cloak rested on a tree limb, but without the constant movement, the chill was penetrating the long sleeves of her gown.

“Is that what happened at the assembly? Did you respond without thought?”

“I felt a surge of power within the room and guessed the source to be your mother. Do you not ever feel her surges?”

She blinked. “No, I have become so accustomed to holding back my magic within Longbourn that I rarely experience what comes from my parents. Jane’s calming influence is obvious, which is why I recognise the effect on my mind. Mama is more volatile. The fits are usually in bursts.”

Mr. Darcy’s fingers caressed down her cheek. “Maintaining such regulation must be exhausting.”

“Do you find it so, Mr. Darcy?”

He stepped closer but frowned. “I beg your pardon?”

“You were very reserved last night. Do you not find it arduous?”

“Ah,” he said. “You mean my discomfort in public.”

“Yes.”

“I much prefer to be at Pemberley with those I care about. At the moment, I am more reserved than is my wont in order to avoid betraying our connexion. Your father has always intended to announce you as the heir on the solstice. I believe he would prefer to stay to that plan if we can manage.”

She lifted her one eyebrow. “You could have waited to come. Then you would not need to conceal your knowledge or our betrothal.”

He stepped closer once more and leaned impossibly close. “I thought you might like to know your betrothed before we are wed, or would you have preferred to marry a stranger?”

With a huff, she let her arms drop back to her sides. “Does it matter? You gave me the opportunity to choose, but is it not all a formality? We have seen our future. We are to marry.”

“You know as well as I do those visions can change. Are you that set against marrying me?” His eyes darkened, and he appeared forlorn.

“I never said I decided against you—”

He made up the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers before she could finish her sentence. His kiss was soft and tentative. He cupped her bottom lip with his but never pressed for more before pulling back just enough to kiss her forehead.

A snort from the edge of the clearing made them break apart.

Mr. Darcy laughed as he drew back. “I forgot about your chaperon.”

She glanced at Herne, who stood in his favourite spot next to the trees.

Her father had not come today, but the loyal stag had met them just inside the trees and followed them to the clearing as he always had whenever she walked to the stones.

In his own way, Herne was precisely what Mr. Darcy had called him.

“Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, “my hope is that you will want to be my wife by the time we wed, whether we marry at the solstice or before.”

A gasp tore from her throat, and she pulled herself away.

“What is amiss?” His eyebrows were drawn down in the middle.

There, tucked neatly into the folds of his cravat was a familiar gold pin.

“I have seen that moment more than once, but I was unable to see your face in the vision, probably due to how close we stood.” She pointed to the pin.

“I do not remember what you said just now, but I do remember seeing that. It has the letter ‘D’ on it, does it not? I cannot believe I never made the connexion before now.”

A warmth overspread Fitzwilliam at Elizabeth’s confession.

He had wondered over the years if she had visions of him as he had of her.

Of course, she had already told him of her emotions mirroring his at some of the most trying times of his life.

He should not be so surprised by her seeing him as well, but he was. He could not help but allow a grin .

“I cannot pretend I am not pleased. Since I first saw you in my dreams, I have come to have feelings for you that I am certain will become a deep and abiding love between us. I believe the sight we had of you great with our child proves the depth of attachment that will form between us.” In the past few years, his visions of her had become more frequent.

How could he not have come to hold feelings for the caring yet sometimes impertinent young lady?

He lifted his hand to touch her face once more, but a loud snort made him step back with a chuckle. “It seems I am to receive no quarter from your beast. ’Tis a wonder I managed to sneak in a kiss at all.”

She laughed, the musical quality washing over him and relaxing him. “I had no idea Herne possessed such talents. I have underestimated him. All this time, I thought him no more than a trusted companion.”

“You have been fortunate to have him. I have only ever heard of white stags in legends. They are elusive, yet you seem to have found him with ease. Does that not make you curious?”

Her lovely face frowned. “I have never considered the matter. He was quite young when I first happened upon him in Oakham Forest, although he was fully formed. I believe I was seven at the time. Papa had just started letting me walk through the forest unaccompanied.”

Fitzwilliam glanced over at the beast, who now grazed on some tender green grass. Surely, Mr. Bennet would have mentioned if he had conjured the animal for her protection. Could he have been born of natural means?

“What are you thinking?”

His attention returned to Elizabeth. “Just allowing my thoughts to run away from me. I am certain I am incorrect, so perhaps we should start our return to Longbourn. Your family will worry if you are not home soon. ”

They had practiced later than they had on most days.

Elizabeth’s abilities were impressive and came more naturally to her than his ever had.

He had worked to perfect his skills, but she wielded new spells as though she was born with the knowledge.

After witnessing her magic, he could understand why his father and hers believed she required marriage to another strong magical family.

Anyone who witnessed her abilities would know she harnessed great power.

In fact, she was more powerful than most men, in his opinion, yet her sex would be a barrier to being treated as an equal. He had no such qualms. She was a superior creature. He was in no doubt of that!

“I am not certain I believe you. You exercise such an economy of words that if you ask a question, I am sure it is for a reason.”

One side of his mouth quirked. “Nothing more than idle curiosity begged me to ask. The uniqueness of Herne’s colouring and his demeanour simply made me question his origins. I am probably overthinking matters. I often do.”

“You?” She scoffed in a playful manner. “I cannot imagine.”

He clenched his hands at his sides. When she was impertinent, everything in him had to resist pulling her into his arms and kissing the smugness from her full lips.

“You should not tease me so when I cannot respond.”

That one mischievous eyebrow arched. “Whyever can you not respond?”

“I believe if I do so, your protector will not appreciate my efforts.” That was an understatement! He had no wish to meet the ends of those antlers!

“Herne would never harm anyone. I believe you lack sufficient courage.”

He gave an incredulous bark. “I beg your pardon? ”

“Am I truly so terrifying Mr. Darcy?” While she asked the question, she stepped backwards for three or four paces, then grabbed her cloak from the tree limb and darted into the forest. He did not delay in tearing after her.

Her footfalls were easily discernible, and he followed their thudding through the trees until they neared the stream.

When he caught up to her, she was making her way across the stones where she had slowed so she did not fall into the water.

He raced forward into the shallow stream, his tall boots protecting his feet from the moisture.

He caught her around the waist, and she gave a sharp inhale as he held her over the water.

“Mr. Darcy, what are you about?”

“Not quite the retribution I had in mind, but this will do as well.” He dipped her so her head was close to the surface of the chilly water. “You believe me a coward?”

“I did not say that, sir.” She breathed quickly, her chest rising and falling in a rapid motion, yet her countenance appeared calm.

“I believe you did.”

“Perhaps I should call for Herne, and we shall see whether you are still so bold.”

He gripped her to him with one arm while he dug the fingers of his opposite hand into her side. Giggles burst forth from her and she squirmed, so keeping her from falling became more difficult.

“If you continue, I shall not be able to hold on to you.”

“Then perhaps. . .you. . .should cease. . .tickling. . .me!” She could barely get the words out, she was laughing so hard.