9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

O ver the next few days, Elizabeth battled complete exhaustion to learn the necessary skills. She was now beginning to have nightmares that Riquer would try to contact her, but she would not be able to hear him because her magic was not strong enough. Her sleep was further interrupted as she lay in bed, trying to make up her mind about going to Pemberley.

On the third day, as Elizabeth prepared to go outside for her training, Darcy approached her.

"Have you thought about my suggestion yet?" he asked.

"I have thought about it. Obsessively," said Elizabeth. "Especially at night. My sleep is being affected. But I cannot give you an answer just yet."

Darcy made an impatient sound. "I do not want to press you for an answer, but I am tired of deferring my happiness. If I could, I would leave tomorrow."

"It would be impossible for me to leave tomorrow in any case, even if I had reached a decision." Her voice had a sting in it. "I know you are eager to leave. It is just that there is so much to get ready before Riquer's departure. So far, I have been unable to communicate through the mirror with him from here to London, let alone all the way to France. I have been given an impossible task."

"When is Riquer leaving?"

"On Monday."

He made a face. "I suppose you will not be able to answer me until Monday, then."

"Yes. There is nothing I can do about that. But we have waited this long. What is the hurry? Another few days will not make much difference."

"A few days is a long time for me to wait, my love," he murmured.

It was clear that Darcy was impatient to get going, but she still did not know if it was what she wanted. Was Darcy taking her agreement for granted? Should she talk to him about her uncertainties? But what if her answer was yes? Why cause him unnecessary apprehension when he was already on edge?

In the end, she decided not to start a discussion she was ill equipped to deal with at this moment in time. They would cross that bridge when they came to it. "I know, but I need to be certain that my decision is right. I do not want to do anything I will regret."

She hoped her words would at least give him something to think about.

As the date of Riquer's departure drew closer, word came from Carlton House detailing how his ‘escape' would be presented convincingly. During one of their training sessions, Riquer was asked to join Matlock in the Council Chamber. Left to her own devices, Elizabeth took the opportunity to look for something to eat. She returned an hour later to find the Mirror mage lying on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

"Is something wrong?" she asked in alarm.

"No. I have just understood some of the bad effects of this whole business." He sat up on the floor. "I am not allowed to tell you any of the details, of course, but the plan is for me to escape from the Tower of London, with two dozen mages in hot pursuit. I will use my mirror to contact one of my fellow mages in France. I had thought it would all be discreetly done, and that it would all be very secret, but no. There will be a reward posted for anyone who can find me and capture me." He shook his head in disbelief. "I will be in all the newspapers as the villain who ran away to France to join Napoleon. They have even hired an artist to draw a caricature of my escape. My reputation here will be utterly destroyed. Who will trust me after this? I will never be able to show my face in the Kingdom again. Whoever came up with this plan ought to be hanged."

Truth be told, Elizabeth had not thought much about the matter until now. She had assumed they would come up with something plausible that would explain his sudden reappearance. But now, she was shocked that Riquer would be so thoroughly discredited.

"I am sorry. That is not how I imagined it, either. It seems very unfair to do that when you are actually doing this to help them."

"They have gone too far, trying to make everything convincing. I must admit, they have taken care of all the details of my escape very well. But still—"

"What is important is that you will arrive safely at your destination, and that no one suspects you. You must consider what is more important: your life, or your reputation? Do you think the French will accept the story?"

He thought about it. "I think so."

"Then that is all that matters."

"I suppose so." He looked more unhappy than she had ever seen him. His pride was injured, and Elizabeth hoped it would not have undesirable consequences. Elizabeth did not question his loyalty, but if he felt he had nothing to lose, why would he want to risk his life to help the Kingdom?

"Are you still happy to go back to France, under the circumstances?"

"I am not happy to go back to France. I thought I had escaped. I may never have been completely welcome here, but at least no one has compelled me to do anything I do not want to do. Lord Matlock was even kind enough to offer me a choice about going to France. He said he would understand if I thought is was too risky going back." Riquer gave a lopsided smile. "It would have been cowardly of me to refuse, would it not?"

How could he make a joke out of it?

"Being a coward is a better option than being dead in certain circumstances," she said.

"It must be my gentlemanly upbringing," he said, with a lazy smile, "but I take offence to being called a coward."

"I am not—" she started, then caught the look in his eye, "—oh, you are joking."

"It was always a risk, deciding to stay here," he remarked, with studied casualness. "If the French attack Founders' Hall and realize I am fighting with you, they will target me and make certain they eliminate me. If I return to France, they might suspect me of collaboration. So far, as far as I know – and that is, according to my brother – they believe me to be a prisoner being held in the Tower of London. They do not know I have been teaching you or anyone else magic. It seems they still do not have spies inside the Academies, unless, of course, you count me. Let us hope they continue to believe that. It depends on whether the plan the Prince Regent's people have come up with is convincing enough. Otherwise—." He gave a gallic shrug.

There was a long silence as they both contemplated the possibilities. Elizabeth squirmed uncomfortably. She did not want to think of anything going wrong.

"Besides," he continued, suddenly. "I have a selfish reason for going back. Napoleon has my younger brother in his clutches. There may be a chance I can rescue him and bring him back here. Or at least take him somewhere out of harm's way. So, as you see, I am willing enough to go back."

"Well, then," she said, trying to sound cheerful, "we will just have to hope you will succeed."

"Of course. And you should stop blaming yourself, Mrs. Darcy. Many things happen that are outside our control." He gave her a lopsided smile. "You must promise that if something unpleasant happens to me, you will not decide it was all your doing."

"If you phrase it that way, I am happy to promise that much," she said. "It is not all my doing. But it does not mean I will not feel guilty."

"In any case," he said. "I will try to communicate with you as soon as it is safe to do so. And, naturally, the Prince Regent will be waiting for a report from me." He stood up and brushed down his robe. "But for now, we had better practice some more, to improve your skills. You have come a long way, but we are still not quite where we need to be."

By Monday, Elizabeth had become reasonably proficient at communicating with Riquer over a long distance, but she still lacked confidence. Accordingly, she sent word to the Prince Regent requesting an extension of one day. The extension was granted, with a proviso that she could not postpone it any further.

It only delayed the inevitable for a short time. The next day, a carriage arrived from Carlton House to take Riquer away with sealed orders from the Prince Regent brought personally by Lord Walworth. He asked to see Lord Matlock, Elizabeth and Darcy. They met in seclusion in Lord Matlock's bedchamber.

"You are commanded to put Ramon de Riquer in my custody," said Walworth. "I cannot divulge any further information, but I will be taking him somewhere where we can set our plan in motion."

Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged glances. When they stayed at Carlton House a few months ago, nothing was as it seemed. Arcane magic had been used to control the Prince Regent, and the King was put in danger. Neither of them was willing to take such a risk again.

"I do not want to sound insulting, Lord Walworth, but given the unfortunate events at Carlton House not so long ago, I feel uneasy handing him over to you," asserted Darcy. "How do I know the Prince Regent ordered it? And how do I know you are not someone else, using some Arcane Illusion spell?"

Matlock looked shocked, but Elizabeth nodded vigorously. "It would be remiss of us to simply hand him over to you, under the circumstances."

"Surely you cannot doubt the word of a gentleman such as Lord Walworth," said Matlock.

Lord Walworth wrinkled his nose. "They do and they should. They have learnt caution, and I for one am glad of it. If either of you would like to go to Carlton House to confirm that these are indeed His Highness's orders, then I would happily wait here." He turned to Lord Matlock. "I heard that the chef here is better than the King's."

"I do believe our cook possesses an unknown magical Talent," said Matlock. "He produces the best food I have tasted in my life."

"Well, then, count me in." He turned to Darcy and Elizabeth. "Which one of you is going to see the prince?"

"I am," said Darcy. "I can ride over at once."

It would be faster on horseback. Elizabeth would need a carriage, which was much slower. Someday soon, he promised himself, he would arrange for her to take riding lessons.

"Very well, then," said Lord Walworth. "I will wait for your return."

While Darcy went to Carlton House to confirm the Prince's instructions, Elizabeth went to tell Riquer what was happening.

"Are they here to take me away?"

She nodded. There was really nothing more to say.

"Well, just in time. They have finally delivered the portrait," he said. "I was worried it would not be completed before I left, and they would have to deliver it to me while I was running from pursuit."

Elizabeth laughed.

He pulled the locket out from under his shirt and showed her the portrait. Elizabeth had already seen the locket itself, with the hidden compartment that housed the mirror. Making the mirror surface smooth enough not to distort the magic had been difficult, but the Prince had put the best workmen at Riquer's disposal. Now, the whole disguise was complete, with a lock of hair and a portrait of a lady with large brown eyes and black hair, dressed in muslin.

"Do you know who she is?"

"I have no idea. But I shall call her Isabel Bonet," he said. "That should be easy enough to remember. Isabel is Elizabeth in Spanish."

Even now, he was joking. How did he do it?

"Hmm," she said, "I am not so sure. What if you are under duress, and say Elizabeth by mistake? You should think of something safer."

"A pity, but I suppose you are right. Let us hope I will have enough time to think of a suitable name as I make my way to France," he replied.

Then he turned serious. "Now remember what we agreed upon. I will try to contact you between nine and ten o'clock at night, or six and seven in the morning. The time is different in France, but I will work it out. I know it will be difficult, but you must somehow contrive to be outdoors during that time."

"I will do my best."

" And remember, do not worry if I do not contact you. I might be under observation, or not at liberty to go outdoors to talk to you. If I am in a barracks with a group of mages, it might be impossible to do anything without arousing suspicion."

They had spoken about this before, but she was glad he was repeating it. Now that he was leaving, she felt her nerves stretched to a breaking point. There were so many unknowns.

"That is all," he said. "Nothing too complicated. Meanwhile, I have a gift for you. It is a book in French – about Mirror Magic. It has advanced spells in it. I know you do not speak French but some of the spells may be useful, and you could find someone to translate for you. Darcy, probably. I would like you to keep it – in case of emergency."

Her stomach clenched.

She shook her head vigorously. "I will not take anything from you. You must leave it here until you return."

"What are the chances of me being able to return? The French will never trust me on a mission here again."

She had not thought of that.

"Besides, who knows if there will ever be an end to this war?"

His words echoed Darcy's.

An uncomfortable silence followed as they each followed their own train of thought.

"We had better have one more practice session, Mrs. Darcy," said Riquer. "Just in case inserting the portrait has changed the mirror in some way. It will take too long to try it outdoors, but can practice throwing objects through the mirrors. It will give us a good indication if there need to be some last-minute adjustments."

They practiced until they heard footsteps in the hallway. Riquer tucked the locket holding mirror under his clothes.

"Riquer! Ready to leave?" said Lord Matlock as he appeared in the doorway, with Darcy beside him.

"I am at the Prince Regent's command." Riquer bowed and gave a lopsided smile.

"You confirmed that it was the Prince Regent's orders?" said Elizabeth to Darcy, with a smile.

Darcy nodded. "Better safe than sorry."

"We need to leave. We have delayed enough." Lord Matlock looked from Elizabeth to Riquer. "Are you certain the miniature mirror works?"

"It is impossible to tell how it will work over such a long distance," said Elizabeth. "It is not as good as a regular mirror, but it is the only chance we have of escaping detection. From what we can tell, the mirrors seem to be working together."

"I am satisfied that they should work," added Riquer. "I cannot promise they will, however."

"We will have to make do with what we have." Matlock turned his gaze on Riquer. "It is time for you to make your 'escape'. We have set everything up for tomorrow. Is there anything more that needs to be done?"

"Nothing." said Riquer.

So this was it.

She turned to him and offered him her hand. "We will be communicating from afar," she said, her throat tightening. "So I will not bid you farewell. We will speak soon."

Riquer, in typical fashion, took her hand and brought it to his lips. "It has been an honor training with you, Mrs. Darcy. I hope we will have the opportunity to do so again in the future."

"I hope so, too," she said, withdrawing her hand.

As Riquer walked out between the two men, Elizabeth wondered if she would ever see him again.