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“I need a message relayed to Henry Bennet, but I did not want to put it in writing in the event the letter was intercepted. I also could not venture out to call on Longbourn.”

Elizabeth stepped beside him. “Now that we have seen your men, you can send them to Longbourn should you require one of us to attend you. I can find the cottage with ease.”

Her Grace lifted her eyebrows. “I am certain you could.”

He pressed a hand to his betrothed’s back. The duchess was not a threat, was she?

“Miss Elizabeth,” said Her Grace, “my husband visited me last night for Samhain. ”

Fitzwilliam’s body gave a jolt, and Elizabeth’s hands covered her mouth before she let them slide down and come together at her chest. That could only mean one thing.

“Your Grace, pray, accept my condolences,” said Elizabeth.

The duchess gave a dip of her chin. “I felt his loss the evening he died, Miss Elizabeth, so his presence last night was not as shocking to me, I suppose. I had left my windows open to invite his visit. As you are aware, we must cater to the beliefs of the non-magical as well as those who still believe. While I knew of his death, if I had said as much to the constable or had a letter to your father been intercepted, I would have appeared a killer.”

She was correct. No one without a knowledge of magic would understand the bonds binding those who were meant to be connected for life—or even an eternity.

Her Grace brushed a tear from her cheek while her other hand rested on the swell of her abdomen.

“My husband was limited by the bindings of death, of course, but before he was forced to leave, he told me what he could. An individual with a dangerous talent has somehow learnt to harness their ability, and is capable robbing others of their power. My husband was the second heir to have their magic stolen.”

Elizabeth grasped one of his hands in a tight grip. “What is their intention?”

“He never mentioned one,” said Her Grace.

“But I believe we must assume the worst. Your father is well known in our circles. Due to the connexion to Merlin and Niniane, the Bennets possess what is likely the most powerful magic in the world. Whoever this is will not overlook him. He is in grave danger—as are you.”

The duchess took three steps closer, coming face to face with Elizabeth.

“My husband saw visions of you several times over the past few years. He took his knowledge of your identity and the strength of your magic to the grave, I assure you, but your ability is also why you must take great care. You are in just as much danger as your father should your position as heir be revealed.”

Fitzwilliam made to speak, but Her Grace lifted a hand.

“Miss Elizabeth has the support of the Ormonde dukedom, and always will. I believe the time has come for a woman to be heir. Whether it is due to the Bennet ancestry, or some other happenstance is irrelevant. I shall be of aid to you, Miss Elizabeth, in any way possible.”

His betrothed shook her head. “I would not have you or your child come to harm. We must return you to the protection of the cottage.”

“I heard you mention combining your powers on the altar,” said the duchess. “Allow me and my men to be present so you are protected while you probe the stone. You know as well as I that you will be vulnerable.”

Elizabeth’s lips pressed into a line. “I appreciate your willingness to help us, but I would be more at ease if you were safe.”

“Thus far, my men have only seen you and Mr. Darcy in these woods. I am certain some from the village come to make offerings from time to time, but we have had yet to see anyone. We shall be well. Matthew has the ability of concealment. He can ensure we are not visible until you have completed your task.”

He glanced at Elizabeth. Her Grace’s plan had merit. “I believe the sooner we make our attempt, the sooner Her Grace will agree to return home.”

The duchess clasped her hands in front of her. “Mr. Darcy is quite right. So, shall we begin?”

Elizabeth gave him a side-long look as they approached the giant stone.

When she stood before it, she placed her palm upon the smooth surface and closed her eyes.

The duchess had turned her back on them, so he pressed his chest to Elizabeth’s back and set his palm over hers.

Should she collapse or the magic take a turn, he would be aware sooner with such intimate contact.

When he closed his eyes and turned his magic into the stone, the black of his closed eyelids soon gave way to them at the altar just as it had the last time they had made this attempt.

In the next moment, Elizabeth stood at the altar, beautiful with the crown of rosemary and sage upon her head.

Mr. Bennet was every bit the proud father standing beside her.

The scene before them soon blurred and was replaced with one of the parlour at Netherfield.

“Brother, Miss Bennet is quite pretty, but she would accept you for the sake of her family and your wealth. She does not love you. I do not know what Mr. Darcy is thinking of, connecting himself to such a family. The Bennets are hardly suitable. You will be laughed out of London with a match like Jane Bennet.”

“Caroline, you know not what you speak. You have ignored magical matters your entire life, and now, you give precedence to those who do not deserve it. Jane Bennet is highly suitable. You would not understand the prominence of her family because you failed to listen at Samhain nor did you wish to spend the autumn equinox here; you insisted upon journeying to Stonehenge.” He stood and shifted before his sister.

“Now, since you cannot be pleasant, you will be sent to my aunt in Scarborough. Do you understand?”

Before Miss Bingley could answer, everything around him vanished and was replaced with a drawing room. Where were they?

The room was full of people. A party was happening. Mr. Philips stood near the doorway while he greeted guests. As Fitzwilliam glanced about the room, he paused at a figure in a red coat that appeared familiar. No, it could not be. Why would he be in Meryton ?

When the figure turned, Fitzwilliam had to keep from charging forward to break the blackguard’s nose—not that he could in a vision. How had Wickham purchased a commission?

The drawing room blurred, and suddenly, he was outside. The clash of magic drowned out the chirping of the birds, although any local fauna surely fled to avoid becoming hit in the crossfire. He approached the flashes of light that filtered through the hedgerow that was white with snow.

This was the garden at Longbourn! When he stepped through, Elizabeth stood to one side her hands raised as she spun to deflect a spell.

She was magnificent. Her hair had become unbound in the fracas and flowed down her back in a cascade of curls while she moved her hands in a circle then threw them forward sending a blast straight at—

He was jolted back from the altar, and Elizabeth hit him in the chest. His arms came around her to keep her from falling.

“Are you well?” She had not been struck in what he had seen, but that was not to say the exertion of probing the stone had not caused some fatigue.

He brought her to a rock, which had been set as a step to reach the altar, and aided her to sit. That was when a crimson stain upon her shoulder caught his attention.

“How did you become injured?”

Elizabeth pressed her palm to her forehead. “Whoever it was threw a dagger at me before we duelled. I believe it was laced with something. The fatigue was overwhelming.”

“In what I saw, you were fighting brilliantly.” As he spoke, he pulled back the shoulder of Elizabeth’s cloak and gown to reveal a slash. The wound was not dangerous, but it was deep. Her colour was what worried him most. She was too pale.

“Allow me to be of aid.” The duchess lowered herself beside Elizabeth, placed her hand upon the wound, and began to sing the most haunting melody. Her Grace frowned while she sang, but when she stopped and removed her hand, the injury was gone.

Elizabeth’s hand rubbed over the healed flesh, and she gasped. “You are a phoenix.”

He stared at the duchess. The non-magical believed phoenixes to be birds who could conceal themselves as humans when in fact, they were the opposite. He had never met a phoenix before.

“I am,” said the duchess. “My family has concealed our abilities for generations. The eldest son is always the heir like in all magical families, but the females are phoenixes. To keep our abilities hidden, we always claim talents that no one would care to see. Most people believe I am capable of no more than summoning insects. My husband understood the necessity to hide what I am, and if someone wished to witness my ability, he would have ensured my success by calling the bugs himself. He was an excellent man.”

“We shall not reveal your identity to anyone,” said Elizabeth. “I swear it.”

Her Grace pushed herself to stand. “Your father knows, of course. The Bennets have had knowledge of my family’s legacy for centuries.

I am certain he would have told you when the time was appropriate.

You must know the adversary you faced in your vision was attempting to drain your power.

I could sense the residual when I healed you. ”

Elizabeth’s gaze met his. Her colour had greatly improved. “That explains the fatigue when the visions end.”

As Fitzwilliam helped Elizabeth to her feet, he placed his arm around her back in the event she required further support. “Your Grace, we are indebted to you for your help, but if you would allow us, we do need to return you to your home before we return to Longbourn to speak to Mr. Bennet. ”

She stepped to Elizabeth’s side and looped her arm through his betrothed’s. “I shall accept your kind offer. I thank you.”

Elizabeth found the site of the house with ease and, with a quick charm, rendered it visible to them until the duchess entered with her guards and closed the door behind her. Once she was within, Elizabeth re-cast her charm that concealed the home and took his hand. “We need to speak to Papa.”