8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

E lizabeth spent the rest of the day in a daze. Darcy had handed her something she wanted on a silver platter. Every fiber of her being urged her to take up his offer and leave immediately, before he could change his mind. She wanted nothing more in the world than to go to Pemberley, away from all this – the constant worry, the relentless, exhausting training, the constant danger. To forge a new life together. To be together as nature intended.

She had not quite forgotten what it was like to live as she used to, safe in the lap of the countryside, surrounded by green fields. How much more wonderful it must be to experience that with the man she loved. To wake up with the sun shining through the window. To lie in bed with Darcy in her arms.

In Pemberley, they would not be surrounded by apprentices and watched by the other mages. She would not have to concern herself with anyone's opinion but Darcy's. And they would have the chance to love each other fully, to explore each other, to find their happiness.

She indulged in daydreams. The tender look in Darcy's eyes as he kissed her, his gaze heavy with desire. Since she had tumbled headlong in love with Darcy, being together had almost become the stuff of fairy tales, something she could only dream of, forever out of reach. She quivered at the very possibility that it could become her reality.

She took this a step further, daring to dream of a babe to hold tight. Elizabeth would watch her grow, hear her laughter and her first words, and teach her about magic. She imagined a little girl, with bright eyes and dark curls like Darcy's. Defiant and determined. She even imagined a boy like Darcy, with intense eyes and a serious expression.

What he had proposed felt as momentous as if he had just asked her to marry him. He had offered her a vision of their future. Who could possibly say no?

Yet how could she say yes?

By nighttime, she was no closer to reaching a decision. Every time she thought she had made up her mind, she discovered something else to add to her confusion.

Desperate to find some clarity of mind, she sought out Jane in her bedchamber. Jane, as always, was pleased to see her, but with one look at Elizabeth's face, saw at once that this was not a social visit.

"What is wrong?" Jane's voice was full of concern. "Has something happened?"

Sitting at Jane's escritoire, with Jane on her bed, Elizabeth explained Darcy's plan.

As Jane listened, her eyes began to glow, and she clutched her hands together.

"How splendid, Lizzy! I am so happy for you!"

Jane had not understood the dilemma at all. Knowing that filled Elizabeth with despondency.

"But Jane, don't you see? How could he ask such a thing of me?" And to her surprise, she burst into tears.

The joy on Jane's face disappeared and was replaced with puzzled apprehension.

"But I do not understand you, Elizabeth. He loves you, and you love him. You are married. Surely you knew this would happen one day?"

"One day, yes. Not now."

"But just a few months ago, you would have left the Academy willingly. What has changed? Is it because the Prince Regent has made you his advisor?"

Jane's question surprised her. "The Prince Regent? Of course not!" Was that really true? "I mean, obviously I am flattered to have the future king's patronage. But it is more than that. I have changed. I am learning so many things. My life is so much more than I ever dreamed of."

"But isn't your marriage equally important?"

"Of course it is. But I have responsibilities here. I am doing things no one else can do. They need me, Jane."

She put her arms on the desk and rested her cheek on her arm. From this close, she noticed there was a crack in the desk. She followed the line with her nail until it reached the edge of the desk. It felt as if she was on the edge of a precipice, and that if she did not make the right decision, she would pay for it dearly.

"I want both . I was hoping for both , but now I am being asked to pick one or the other."

She had not had any choice in marrying Darcy. Her marriage had been decided by the Council. Here was her chance to decide for herself.

She was responsible for so many things. She had an important role to fulfil. Her magic was growing. She was, despite the war, happy in what she was doing. She had a sense of purpose.

Was she so buoyed up by her success that she was willing to sacrifice her love for Darcy in favor of the new position she had? Did she value the admiration of her apprentices and fellow mages more than Darcy's?

Many women envied her for marrying Darcy. Miss Bingley had impressed that upon her when Elizabeth had first arrived. She was right. Darcy was everything that was good and upright and honorable.

Yet here Elizabeth was, just a bit more than a year later, hesitating.

She left Jane soon after, too restless to go to bed, in desperate need of clearing her mind.

A walk would have helped clear the cobwebs away, but of course it was not a simple thing for her to go outside. No one would stop her, of course, but it defeated the purpose if she had to be on the alert for danger. It was certainly the thing she missed most about being free to live her own life. If she went to Pemberley, she would be able to take long walks on the estate. She would never have to worry about being attacked. It was one more thing to add to the list of many reasons she should be jumping at the opportunity.

Except that it was not quite true. They would still have to live their lives every day looking over their shoulders, worrying that the French mages would find them. And they would be more vulnerable because they would be alone.

The more she thought about it, the more it seemed that Darcy had created an idyllic image in his mind that did not correspond to reality.

She walked around for some time, pondering this issue. Eventually, her feet led her to the practice room where they used to train when she first arrived at Founder's Hall. She had not been there since they left for Netherfield. It had been taken over by a group of young apprentices, and she had not thought of visiting it.

Immediately, her gaze went to the lectern where the Compendium of Spells had stood that fateful day when she and Darcy had tried to Bond. The burnt copy of the book had been replaced, but the scorch marks from when she had set the book on fire were still there. She ran her hands along the wood, expecting to see dark streaks of soot on her fingers, but the wood was smooth.

That day, she could never have guessed that she would fall madly in love with her husband. It was unusual for mages to have the luxury of falling in love. She had found something precious. Life had given her a gift. Should she not pursue it?

But how could either of them do it without abdicating their duty? Could the two really find happiness by leaving and allowing others to be injured – or worse? Would she really be happy in Pemberley knowing that others were still fighting the Imperial mages?

Her mind was in a whirl. To try and recover her equilibrium, she did the training exercises that every mage in the Academy did to help them prepare for a magic lesson. But instead of helping her calm her thoughts, it reminded her of the time when she had first watched Darcy perform the same sequence of movements. He had seemed so graceful and agile, so much in his element. It was the first time she had really noticed him as a person.

If Darcy was willing to walk away from this, surely Elizabeth – who had spent far less time at the Academy – could do so too. Yet every time she thought about it, she felt as if someone was gripping her heart and squeezing it.

Considering how some of the mages had treated her at first, it was a wonder she did not take Darcy's suggestion and run. The fact was, she had found a place for herself here. She liked training the young apprentices. She possessed unique skills that the Academy needed. Somehow, she had come to belong.

The next day she woke up in a state of agitation. She was no closer to a decision than when Darcy had first mentioned the possibility. However, when she went to her usual training session with Riquer, she quickly realized she had more pressing demands on her time.

Matlock was there, as well as Lord Walsworth, who was the leading mage of the Prince Regent. She had dealt with Lord Walsworth before, and she liked him, but when she curtseyed and smiled, he did not reciprocate. He was looking particularly forbidding today.

"How long will it take to be ready to depart?" said Matlock. "We will need to plan the whole thing perfectly."

"Do I have a year?" said Riquer.

From the way the two other mages scowled, it was clear that they did not appreciate Riquer's levity.

"We can give you a week at the most." Matlock's voice carried the weight of an official verdict.

"A week?" Elizabeth's voice came out as a squeak. A sick, heavy feeling settled into her stomach. "But we have never practiced communicating over long distances. I do not even know how to do it."

"I am sorry to hear it. Would you like me to send an urgent message to Napoleon asking him to delay his invasion until you are ready, then?"

The sarcasm in Matlock's voice added a note of panic to the heaviness inside her. It was all a misunderstanding. A nightmare. She could not do this. They were demanding the impossible.

"You must understand," said Riquer, evenly, though she could tell that he, too, was rattled, "that Mrs. Darcy is a relative novice. She has learned a huge amount in the short time we have trained, but mastering Mirror magic over large distances is a more advanced skill, and both the sender and the receiver must be very good for it to succeed. You are asking too much."

"We have no choice. There must be a way to expedite it by focusing on that single skill." Lord Walworth looked slightly more sympathetic. "From what I've heard, Mrs. Darcy is a quick learner. If anyone can do it, it is her."

She felt flattered by Lord Walworth's remark, though at this point, being a quick learner seemed more like a curse than a blessing. Just because Elizabeth was good at picking up things, it did not mean she could achieve miracles.

"There are other things to consider," persisted Riquer. "The first is working out how to smuggle a mirror attuned to both of us past the Imperial Mages. Of course, they will search me, and obviously, I cannot go around carrying a normal mirror."

"Then you had better start thinking of a solution," said Lord Walsworth, relentlessly.

"And we need to come up with a plausible story explaining how I was suddenly able to return to France."

"That is not something you need to worry about," said Lord Walsworth. "I have several gentlemen working on this. We will inform you of the details when we have them. You need to devote your time to achieving success in using Mirror magic to communicate with each other. Nothing else. To that end, we will put whatever resources are needed at your disposal to accomplish what you need. Now, if that is all, we have other pressing issues to deal with."

Lord Walsworth gave a quick bow and exited the room, followed by Lord Matlock.

"How very uncivil," said Riquer, after they were out of earshot. "If they wanted us to focus on long-distance communication, they should have asked us to do it earlier. Though I suppose you could not have done it in any case until you reached a certain level."

Elizabeth could only agree. It was all very well for His Royal Highness to assume she could connect with Riquer all the way to France. True, her Mirror magic had improved very quickly, but she was woefully unprepared for communicating through mirrors over long distances. They had worked on strengthening her ability to control and travel through the mirror, but they had never even tried to use it as a tool for espionage. She was prepared to work hard, but what if they could not accomplish it in such a short time?

Knowing there was no more than a week to learn what was needed, she and Riquer intensified their lessons. Elizabeth had to practice communicating with him from increasingly large distances. She expected that she would be the one confined to the grounds of the Hall, but it was decided that they could not risk Riquer being found by the Imperial Mages before Elizabeth had completed her training. Consequently, it was Elizabeth who had to leave the Hall each morning, accompanied by Colonel Fitzwilliam, a Warder, Miss Warren, and a lesser Elemental mage, Mr. Enfield.

The afternoons were dedicated to discussing practical issues, particularly the pesky issue of the mirror. They considered something like a quizzing glass, but adding a mirror to it would have made it too obvious. It had to be something easily concealed.

"A pocket watch?"

"That is not a bad idea, but they might notice that it contains a mirror when I open it."

In the end, after some extended discussion, they decided on a miniature with a concealed second compartment holding a mirror.

"No one would suspect a mirror hidden behind a portrait." Elizabeth felt reasonably certain that it would work.

"If that is what we have decided on, I would be honored if you will give me a miniature of you to put in the locket so I can remember you when I am in danger in France."

"You are truly incorrigible. How could you use my words against me like this?"

"You have mistaken my meaning. Surely you would not deprive me of the chance of holding you close to my heart?" He put his hand dramatically to his chest.

She laughed at his nonsense. "It would not go well for you if one of your spies recognized me, would it?"

His mouth drooped dramatically. "Very true. Sadly, I will have to abandon the notion."

"It is truly tragic," she said, sighing loudly.

It was Riquer's turn to laugh. "How is it you never take me seriously?"

"Because you are never serious."

"That is why it is so easy to be around you, Mrs. Darcy. I will be sorry to leave you behind."

Elizabeth did not want to think about his departure. "Let us stick to the matter at hand. We will need to obtain a miniature. And have a locket designed that will work with my hand-held mirror."

"Yes. Preferably of a Spanish lady. We do not wish them to think I have any connections here. I will instruct them to find one."

It was one problem resolved, at least.

Two days later, when she left the training room to bring herself dinner, she was surprised to find Redmond waiting for her in the hallway.

"Mrs. Darcy? May I ask you a favor?"

Elizabeth nodded at the young Janus mage. He had changed since he had first arrived, as she had.

"May I ask you a question first?"

"Of course."

"Are you happy in the Royal Academy?"

"It is a privilege to be part of it," he said, stiffly. "Many people would love to be in my shoes."

He had not answered her question.

"But does it make you happy to be here?"

He looked at her closely. "I am happy enough, considering that we are at war. I know my duty."

"Do you have some good friends?"

He smiled at that. "I do have good friends."

She nodded. "Yes. That is very important."

When he continued to look at her expectantly, she remembered he had a reason for seeking her out. "You said you wanted to ask me a favor?"

"Yes." He took a deep breath and shuffled nervously. "I would like you to teach me Mirror magic. I think I might have the Talent to do it. I have been trying it out, and I have felt the stirrings of something."

"Really? If that is the case, then that is excellent news." They had searched high and low for people with Talent for mirror magic, with no success. She was gripped with excitement.

She was on the verge of telling him she would be more than happy to train him, when it struck her that she could not give him an answer.

"We will of course have to test you first. I will discuss it with Riquer." What else could she say? Riquer was leaving in a few days and might never return. If she left with Darcy, she would no longer be a Tutor.

He looked disappointed at her vague answer, but he bowed and took his leave.

If she left for Pemberley, Redmond would never develop his Talent. Would she be able to live with her conscience, knowing she was walking away from her role? But if she did not leave, how could she sacrifice Darcy's happiness as well as her own?

She felt as if all her certainties were crumbling.