22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

T he next day, after they had worked on reinforcing the Wards around the castle and on the beach, they found themselves once again at liberty to spend time together. This time, since the weather was amenable, they set out to walk on the high path above the beach.

The evening was theirs to enjoy. Elizabeth slipped her hand under Darcy's elbow and they set out on the path along the grassy boundary of the sharp cliff. The sea was so close she fancied she could feel the spray on her skin. The wind whipped at her ringlets, sending strands to the edge of her lips. She put up her hand to move them away, but Darcy was there before her.

"Let me help you," he said, hooking a finger gently into the wayward strands. The light touch seared into her skin, and she leaned into him, her breath catching. An immense longing for him seized her and she looked at him. Shadows were whirling in her eyes, and she shivered.

Aware of the watchful eyes of soldiers and mages on the parapets above them, she had to content herself with hooking her arm in his.

"Do you think we could go down and walk on the beach? I would like to be close to the sea."

They left the main path, making their way down. The pebbles looked round and smooth, but they felt jagged under their feet. Darcy offered her his arm and they both picked their way gingerly towards the water, the stones sliding and moving apart, making it difficult to walk. Clinging to each other, they laughed at their clumsiness.

The heavy air settled on her clothes and skin. The waves were a rhythm to dance to. The water drummed against the pebbles, over and over. Elizabeth delighted in the unfamiliar music. It invoked something primitive in her, an impulse to run to the sea and stamp on the shore along with the waves. There was a fierce magic to it. She wished she was an Elemental mage so she could connect with it.

"I wish I could take off my shoes," she said. "I want to feel the waves."

"Your wish is my command," said Darcy. He knelt on the shingle and gently undid her half-boots. She laughed in protest.

"What are you doing? I am perfectly capable of doing it myself."

"Allow me to do something that will give you pleasure."

He put the nankeen boots behind them, out of the way of the tide, and then carefully, slowly, peeled off her right stocking. His hand cradled her ankle, making sure she kept her balance. The touch of his fingers sent ripples of head across her skin. Then he slowly peeled off the other stocking, his fingers brushing against her knee. She splayed her fingers against his shoulders as her legs grew unsteady.

She laughed again, this time in embarrassment, fully aware they were in plain view of the castle. Not that she was doing anything wrong. Darcy was her husband, and she told herself they had the right to a stolen moment together. It made her feel deliciously daring, even as she worried someone would see them.

"Darcy," she said, breathlessly. She could not bear it.

Somehow, he understood her. His gaze grazed over the exposed skin of her thigh before he put down her foot with obvious reluctance.

Flustered by his attention, she lost her balance. The pebbles gave way under her. She waved her hands like a windmill as she began to topple. Darcy caught her by the waist and held her tight. She closed her eyes and brought her face up towards him, a sunflower seeking the sun. His lips skimmed hers, a touch full of reverence. She wanted to deepen it, to discover more, but he pulled away.

"Not now. Not yet," he said, his voice rugged. "I—cannot. It would not be wise."

She nodded, trying to calm the tempest inside her. Carefully, holding onto his arm, she braved the stones and made her way to the water. The waves came towards her as if she had called them, and crawled over her. She jumped back with a gasp. The water was colder than she expected.

"That was not a good idea," she said, blithely.

"No, but you needed to experience it." Smiling warmly, he gave her his handkerchief. "You will have to make do with this."

She sat down awkwardly. Darcy looked towards the horizon while she dried herself and put her stockings and boots back on. He did not try to help her this time. She was both amused and gratified that he had to struggle to avoid temptation.

When she was finished, they withdrew further up the beach, safe from the advancing tide. They stood looking out as the sun cast the last of its rays on the rippling water, shoulder to shoulder, hands entwined, listening to the breathing of the sea as it made its way through the pebbles and retreated.

It had been an unsettling day, thought Darcy, as they all returned to their chambers after dinner. As the various Royal mages disappeared into their sleeping quarters, Darcy hung back, reluctant to leave Elizabeth.

"I need to freshen up before I go out again for my Mirror magic," she remarked with a sigh.

She turned as she opened the door and blew him a kiss. A kiss! As if he could be satisfied with a kiss! Not for the first time, he considered tossing his inhibitions out of the window. His senses were still tingling from their encounter on the beach. He had to draw on every ounce of willpower to stop himself from following her.

No doubt his cousin Richard would laugh if he saw him standing there staring at the door and call him a fool for holding back. Perhaps he was.

One of these days he would give in, but it was not going to happen today.

He went into his own bed chamber and, sitting on his bed, he took off his Hussian boots and tossed them carelessly away. Then, recalling he had no valet to pick up after him, he rose in his stockinged feet and picked them up, arranging them neatly next to each other. He had already noticed that the Royal Mages' unanticipated arrival meant the housekeeper did not have time to hire the extra servants the castle needed. He did not want to add to their already heavy burden by throwing his things all over the room.

A scream from the room next to his sent his heart thundering. There was no mistaking Elizabeth's voice. Had an Imperial mage attacked her? Sheer terror had him tearing open the door and sprinting to her room.

He tried to open the door, but it was locked. He rattled the door handle, panic setting in, and scrambled for a spell which would blow the door open. As he began to utter the first words, Elizabeth opened the door. She took in his stockinged feet and gave a gasp of dismay.

"Oh, my love! I am sorry I screamed. I did not mean to alarm you."

"What is it?" he said, his eyes raking her face worriedly. "What is wrong?"

Elizabeth looked chagrined. "You will laugh when I tell you."

If she was embarrassed, it could not be something bad. The tension drained from his body. Thank heavens. "What is it, then?"

He stepped into the room, looking around for signs of danger. She was alone.

"I was about to sit on my bed when I saw a spider running across it. I did not even know I had screamed. I am so sorry."

A spider?

Darcy shook his head and chuckled. "I would never have guessed you could be so missish about such a little thing. You have confronted some of the most powerful mages the Continent can boast, yet you are afraid of a tiny spider?"

"It is not tiny. It is a cardinal spider. Almost as big as my palm." Her face grew redder. "Could you please get rid of it for me, Darcy?"

"I am happy to oblige," he murmured. "Let me see what I can do. Where is it?"

"It was on the cover."

There was no sign of a spider, cardinal or otherwise. Darcy did everything he could to find it. He turned over the sheets and the pillows. He looked under the bed, lifted the worn carpet and even searched under the oil painting of a gentleman with a white wig and sour face. The spider was nowhere to be found.

"How am I supposed to sleep when I know there's a spider in my bed?"

He could not resist it. "Would you rather have something else – or someone – in your bed?"

She shot him an amused look. "Someone else, rather than a spider? I would very much prefer someone else in my bed. But would it be wise?" Her words echoed his.

Every muscle in his body urged him to follow up on the invitation. "It would not be wise."

But he could not bring himself to move. All he could think of was what she would look like lying there, her dark hair spread across the pillow.

She must have felt how close he was to throwing caution to the wind, because she jumped up and went to pick up her bonnet. "I had better go and wait for Riquer to contact me." She stopped and looked at him intently. "Would you like to come with me? The weather is still pleasant."

He would not say no to the opportunity of having her to himself, out there in the dark. "Excellent idea. Shall we go?"

He felt like a truant schoolboy, sneaking out with a young lady.

"Have you forgotten something?"

"What?"

She covered her mouth with her hand, holding back her merriment. "Your boots."

His gaze dropped to his bootless feet as she let out a peal of laughter. He felt his ears burn. "Look what you do to me! If I had known all this was about a spider—"

"Spiders can be dangerous, too."

He chuckled. "Very dangerous indeed! I had better go and put my boots on."

Next morning, Darcy was indulging in a pleasant dream involving Elizabeth when a heavy knocking on the door forced him to his feet.

He threw open the door to find Elizabeth there.

"Another spider?" he said, with a broad smile. "Give me time to put on my shoes this time."

She did not smile back. Only now did he notice her expression. She was looking stunned. With a sob, she threw herself into his arms.

"What is it, my love?" he exclaimed, his heart racing in alarm.

"It is happening!" she said, "Darcy, we can no longer pretend this is not real. I have just heard from Riquer. They are planning to invade within the next day or two. We need to get to Hythe immediately. An attack is imminent. They are landing there!"

Her words struck him like a physical blow. All the air whooshed out of him. He felt hollow, shocked to the core.

He realized now how foolish he had been. He had let down his guard completely. Darcy had continued to hope that the whole thing was a false alarm, and that their dream of going to Pemberley remained alive.

Now the dream was gone. They were going to battle, and there was no knowing what the outcome would be.

"Did Riquer give any more details?"

She shook her head. "He was very nervous. He cannot take the risk of being overheard speaking English."

Darcy reached out and gathered her into his arms, feeling the agitation in her breath, the rapid drumming of her heart beating in time with his. He wanted to sink his face in her hair, but her bonnet was in the way. She was shaking. He stroked her on the back, trying to give her some comfort, even while his own thoughts whirled like a storm inside him.

"All will be well," he said, as much to reassure himself as to reassure her. "It is not the first time. We have faced battles before and we have won."

He had a sudden image of how she had looked after the battle at Founder's Hall. She had been so still, he was convinced he had lost her. He pushed the image away. It was the last thing he needed.

She nodded into his shoulder. "I know."

She pushed herself to an upright position and smoothed down her spencer. "We need to inform everyone. We have to leave at once."