Page 16

Fitzwilliam hastened his mount towards Longbourn.

The missive Mr. Bennet had sent to him late last night was concerning.

Firstly, the gentleman had given no information in his letter.

Instead, he had insisted Fitzwilliam call as soon as he was able.

So, no morning practice with Elizabeth in Oakham Forest. His chest was heavy.

He had come to enjoy those early morning moments sparring with their magic as well as verbally.

At Longbourn, he would surely spend time with Elizabeth, yet with Mr. Bennet’s supervision. Even if he had the watchful eyes of Herne in the forest, the stag was a different sort of chaperon than Mr. Bennet. Her father would understand what they were saying—as well as what they were not.

The air was heavy this morning. He had never liked when it pressed on him in this way.

The wind was restless, and its agitated whispers carried across the fields.

He was not as adept at listening to them as Elizabeth.

She understood them with little effort, but her feel of the earth and her ability to wield its power was natural.

When he was learning, some spells had required multiple attempts to produce a feeble result.

He had learnt to harness the magic and use it as his father had before him.

How did a person become almost one with the earth as she seemed to do?

He glanced at the horizon only to find dark clouds looming in the distance. Something was amiss. His gut was too tight, and Mr. Bennet’s note was too mysterious for naught.

When he dismounted near the stables, a groom rushed out and took his horse. “Miss Elizabeth is awaiting you by the kitchens, sir.”

Elizabeth! They had spent almost every morning together since before the assembly, and he had become accustomed to her presence.

She was swiftly becoming necessary. He needed her cheer and humour to face the remainder of his day in the same household as Miss Bingley, Mr. Hurst, and Mrs. Hurst. Of course, that pertained more to Miss Bingley than the others.

That woman refused to listen or heed his multiple requests that she desist in her pursuit.

Just yesterday, she had attempted to trap him alone in his bedchamber.

Thankfully, his valet had entered the room before him and had ensured she was extricated without waking the entire household. What a nightmare that would have been!

He rounded the corner, and at the sight of Elizabeth, his heart immediately lightened. She was lovely, her bright eyes twinkling when she noticed him. Could she be coming to care for him as much as he was for her?

“How long have you been waiting?”

She grinned. “I was sitting in the window of my father’s library, so I saw you and Hen approaching through the field.”

He nodded and took her hand, rubbing his thumb along her bare knuckles. “I am relieved to hear you have not been in the cold for long.” The sun peeked out from the clouds, but the wind was damp and brought a chill with it.

“No, which is why I am not wearing gloves. I made my way through the servants’ passages so I would be here when you arrived.”

He kissed her hand then held it between both of his. “Do you know what is so urgent? Your father did not give much detail in his letter.”

“He has said little, but by his manner, a missive he received yesterday carried some grave news. He has been pensive ever since.” She squeezed his hand. “I walked through the gardens just after sunrise. Can you hear the mourning in the wind?”

“Mourning? I could feel an anxiousness about it and perhaps a sadness, but I could not discern anything more.” How did she catch those nuances he missed? Could she teach him to listen as well as she could?

“Before you arrived, I sensed change and a similar restlessness,” she said.

“At first, I believed you were the change, but since we combined our power on the altar, I am convinced the difference is caused by whoever I encountered in the vision. I believe more is afoot than we have believed at a glance.”

He cradled her cheeks in his palms. “Whatever comes, I shall stand by your side. You will always have my aid.”

She removed his hands and held them to her heart for a moment, then dropped one and tugged on the other. “Come. My father is waiting. Perhaps we shall understand more after he tells us of whatever has disturbed him so.”

Her hand did not release his as they entered the kitchen. Mrs. Hill was not present today, so they continued through the back passages until they emerged into Mr. Bennet’s library.

“Good morning, Darcy. Mrs. Hill has brought coffee and tea for us as well as some muffins in the event you missed breakfast.”

“I shall be pleased to have some coffee, sir.”

Elizabeth poured him a cup, with tea for her father. Once she poured some coffee for herself, she sat in her well-worn seat.

He took the chair beside her. “I confess to not sleeping well last night due to the lack of information in your letter. The uneasiness of the wind has not helped my feeling of apprehension.”

The older man sighed. “Forgive me my brevity, but I had no wish of this information falling into the wrong hands. The Duke of Ormonde has disappeared.”

Darcy sat forward abruptly. He was forced to shift his cup so hot coffee did not spill onto his lap. “Disappeared?” How could this have happened?” Particularly to someone as prominent as Ormonde.

“How have you come upon this news, Papa? ”

“It seems Ormonde had some idea he was in danger. He never told his wife by whom or how he knew, but he insisted upon hiring men to protect her at all costs.”

“She is carrying his child,” said Fitzwilliam. “I would spare no expense under similar circumstances.”

Bennet tapped his fist upon the table. “Nor would I. Due to his concerns, he penned a letter and implored her to send it to me should the worst occur. She has had no word of his death, but Her Grace fears the worst has already come to pass.”

Elizabeth claimed the wind was mourning. Could this be why?

The gentleman shoved some papers across the desktop. Fitzwilliam set down his coffee and took the missive.

30 September 1811 Berwick Abbey, Berkshire

My good friend,

If you are reading this, my wife has reason to believe I am gravely injured or dead.

For the past fortnight, I have been sensing change as I am sure you have heard while walking out of doors and noticed while studying the stars.

Soon after, I heard the whispers on the wind and was overcome by a foreboding sensation as well as a vision of what I believe to be my death.

I do not know the voice of the creature I heard, but I was forced to drink a purging potion containing rue [4] to rid myself of the evil energy.

I also believe someone is following me. The vision I had was of light and the flashes of spells, so I do not know how I came to be in that predicament or if my wife is well.

I have hired men to protect her at all costs.

If this child is a girl, I do not believe them to be in danger, but if this child is my heir, I am fearful of what may befall them should something happen to me.

Since you are receiving this, my wife has been instructed to come to you so she can be hidden until the time is right.

I trust you to know the best course. My brother is to act as conservator until such time a son can take his place as heir, or until my brother must take over the estate as my successor.

I am entrusting you to do what is best for my family.

My brother will await word from you on the sex of the child.

I thank you for your aid and your discretion. You have been a faithful friend and correspondent these many years. Forgive me for requesting so much of you, but I know not where else to turn.

Godspeed,

Ormonde

Fitzwilliam handed the letter to Elizabeth, then rubbed his forehead. “His vision is like what Elizabeth described.”

“I noticed,” said Mr. Bennet. “I do feel the two of you should attempt to persuade the altar to show you more. The rejuvenation potion worked well before, but this time, I could brew a purging potion for you to take with you as well. Since Ormonde found it to be effective, it may be a more appropriate choice as a curative. ”

“I may see more, but I also may not.” Elizabeth dropped the missive into her lap. “I also fear probing further into the matter may filter through to whomever is seeking out power. What if I alert them to my existence? By attempting to learn more, I could be sealing my own fate.”

Mr. Bennet held out his hand for the letter. As he glanced over it again, he shook his head. “You are assuming the same as I am, I suppose.”

“That this individual is seeking out and perhaps destroying those who possess the greatest magic?” asked Elizabeth.

Her father nodded. “The theory makes sense. There are a large number of magical families, and some have significant power, but at this time, only a handful are capable of the most formidable magic: the Darcys, the Ormonde dukedom, the Fitzwilliams, the Stuarts, and the Bennets.”

As those who ceased to believe in magic lost their abilities, the number of truly powerful families had dwindled. Their world was shrinking. How long before it disappeared forever?

“When should we expect the duchess?” asked Elizabeth.

Mr. Bennet made a noise that somewhat resembled a growl.

“She cannot come to Longbourn. Your mother’s tongue is too loose.

She would tell the neighbourhood and beyond that we have a duchess in our home.

I also had a missive from my cousin William Collins, who is the heir of Longbourn.

He possesses no magic whatsoever—not so much as a talent—and is a vicar at the Hunsford parish in Kent. ”

“Hunsford is a living that is bestowed by my aunt.” Fitzwilliam took his coffee from the desk and took a sip.

Elizabeth frowned. “Your aunt?”