Elizabeth snorted. “Are you testing me again, Fitzwilliam Darcy? Do you still want to prove that I have not had a proper education? You will not catch me out, you know.”
“Of course not. I have no intention of trying.”
She sat up and stared at him in disbelief. “But you just did.”
“That was just—”
“—a test.” Her eyes defied him to deny it.
Didhe still suspect her abilities? It was possible, but why must she always push and prod and demand answers?
“Very well. I admit it. It was a test, but a very small one.”
“You may as well confess, sir, that you still do not fully trust my abilities.”
“I do not doubt them,” he said, striving to be honest. “But since I do not understand them, I do not know what to make of them. You are an extremely powerful mage. That much is certain.”
She had proven it when it mattered. He had nearly lost her because she had risked everything to save the Hall. He could never let anything like that happen to her again. A surge of fierce tenderness rose up in him. He would protect her with his life.
“Regardless of how I feel about your magic, I hope you can trust me never to let you down. Ever.”
“I know,” she said. There was that smile again, dancing deep within her eyes.
Her faith in him was humbling.
He shuddered. So many things could go wrong. He only hoped his promise would be enough to keep her safe.
***
IT WAS GROWING COOLERas the sun began to set, spreading a cloak of orange across the sky. These were the last days of summer. She was glad she had spent some of the summer in Longbourn, out in the country. It seemed fitting that she was returning to Founder’s Hall as they made the transition to Autumn. She would be indoors most of the time now. She was prepared for it, especially now that Darcy was at her side, but as they drew closer, a prickle of apprehension nagged at her. Mama would no doubt call it her nerves, but Elizabeth had a more common word for it: cold feet. She was not quite ready to step into that brooding Hall.
Oh, Founder’s Hall was beautiful, with its cloisters and old tapestries and the ancient traces of magic that spoke to her, but she had not been happy there. She would be lying if she said she was looking forward to her arrival.
She pushed the somber moment aside. There would be time enough to deal with it when she got there.
“Are you looking forward to your arrival?”
She stared at him. How had Darcy plucked that thought from her mind?
“Must we talk about it? Let us just enjoy the here and now.”
He answered her with a kiss that melted away any uncertainty. He was with her now. They would face the future together.
The landscape was starting to become more familiar. Elizabeth could see the outline of the Richmond Bridge in the distance. That was the patch of woodlands she used to gaze at from her bedchamber. Soon, they would reach the clearing where the deer liked to graze. And here was the area where the river turned again, where Darcy had brought her because she desperately needed to leave the confining walls of Founder’s Hall.
There was a boat on the river now, with a young gentleman rowing while a young lady was reading to him from a book.
“Do you remember our night out on the river?”
He raised his brow. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of the haughty, distant gentleman he had been then.
“How could I forget? You drilled me about Pemberley and shamed me for having so many servants.”
“But you told me about Cuthbert, your Twin, and I began to see there was more to you than the condescending, powerful mage who wanted me to fail.”
He shook his head. “The recollection of my conduct is painful to me. I cannot think of it without abhorrence. You taught me that even good principles can sometimes be twisted by pride and conceit.”
She wished she had not raised the issue. She did not want their time together overshadowed by the past.
