It still astonished Elizabeth how Darcy’s eyes could turn from soft pools full of love to hard rocks in an instant. He turned to de Riquer, his eyes glinting.
“And what exactly were you discussing with my wife?”
“I was just about to make a proposition.” De Riquer’s voice held a hint of amusement. “Until you interrupted in such a dramatic and – I have to say— not very English way. I always thought the English did not believe in passion, but I have revised my impression favorably.”
“You have not answered my question,” said Darcy, coldly.
He was not quite as tolerant of de Riquer’s nonchalant manner.
“I do not choose to do so,” said Riquer, his eyes narrowing. There was steel there. Elizabeth was glad she had not seen that aspect of him earlier, when she was alone with him.
The two gentlemen eyed each other, taking each other’s measure. Elizabeth thought of the duel and cast around for a way to defuse the tension between the two males before things took an unpleasant turn.
“Mr. de Riquer has suggested that he might be capable of removing the spell that has been cast on Bingley and the others.”
Darcy’s eyes narrowed. De Riquer raised his brow and gave her an injured look.
“You were not meant to announce that, Mrs. Darcy.”
“If you wanted it secret, you should have told me.”
“We had not yet reached that part,” he said. “I would have preferred to keep it to myself so I could bring it to the bargaining table. Now you have brought it into the open, I suppose it can still provide me with some leverage. But I must set the terms for my negotiations. I will not deal with anyone but Lord Matlock. And Mrs. Darcy, if she is willing to participate.”
“Lord Matlock is not likely to meet with you. I cannot answer for Mrs. Darcy, of course.”
“As far as I can see, I am the only one with the bargaining power. I still have one or two tricks up my sleeve, and I have ways of putting pressure on Lord Matlock.”
Darcy was obviously in no mood to make sense of de Riquer’s speech. Admittedly, he had just fought a duel and had somehow miraculously survived. Elizabeth did not blame him. But she was taken by surprise when Darcy marched over to Riquer, grabbed hold of his meticulously knotted cravat, and pushed him against the wall.
“So you are the man who destroyed the mind of my friend Bingley. I will have you swinging on the gallows for this. Or better still, I might take the matters into my own hands. Why wait?”
Elizabeth squeezed Darcy’s shoulder to get his attention.
“Darcy. Perhaps you might want to stop and re-consider. De Riquer is offering toundothe spell.”
Reluctantly, Darcy released de Riquer but did not move away. He was tense, alert, his muscles coiled in preparation for attack.
“Canyou undo the spell?” There was a warning in Darcy’s voice.
De Riquer put a hand to his collar and tugged at it. “I promise nothing.”
The unspoken message in the sullen words was clear. The Imperial Mage, or perhaps the new Royal Mage, would not discuss the matter with Darcy. She sighed.
Darcy gave a snort of disgust and strode over to her side.
“What incentive does he have to do such a thing? It is a trick, Elizabeth. Do not be taken in by it.”
She waited for de Riquer to answer, but he was busy fiddling with his cravat. He walked over to the mirror and uncovered it.
As he leaned forward to straighten his collar, Elizabeth stiffened. She knew what he was going to do next.
“Darcy!”
Darcy sprinted over, his hands reaching out to grab de Riquer, just as de Riquer smiled, winked at Elizabeth, and stepped into the mirror.
