Elizabeth braced herself for something unpleasant.
“I have specific reasons to distrust Riquer, and you ought to know about them.”
Elizabeth was looking so worried, Darcy found himself hesitating. Still, he was determined to forge ahead. If he was going to disillusion her, then so be it. The consequences were too crucial for him to hold back.
He had rehearsed what he wanted to say before he met her, and had decided it was best to approach the whole topic indirectly.
“You may have noticed that at times, Riquer can be frivolous, that at times, he does not take anything seriously.” Darcy paused, giving her time to consider what he was saying. “This may not be a problem normally, but in this situation, it is. Riquer is a cynic. And cynics have no loyalty. They do not believe in noble causes. They shift with the wind. Just as Riquer shiftedallegiance to the Royal Mages when it suited his purpose, he may do the same with the French.”
It was a logical conclusion.
A martial spark flared in Elizabeth’s eyes. She was ready to do battle. Elizabeth was the exact opposite of Riquer. She was unwavering in her loyalty. That was one of the things he loved about her. It galled him that she was bestowing that loyalty on someone so unworthy of it.
“We cannot be sure he will do the right thing,” Darcy added, trying to make her see his point.
She pressed her lips together in a straight line. Darcy’s gaze lingered on them. He wished he could kiss away all her worries and make the anger go away, but that could not happen. He needed to convince her not to trust the villain.
“Is that all you have to say? Is that the basis of your condemnation? A vague assessment of his character? Based on the fact that you consider him a cynic?” Her voice had a hard edge to it.
Darcy took a deep breath. He had prepared her. Now it was time to tell her the truth.
“No. Of course not. I am basing it on something much more specific. A few days ago, the night of your Mirror exhibition, I was feeling stifled — for various reasons. I went out onto the grounds to take a breath of fresh air.” He looked her in the eyes. “I encountered Riquer sneaking back from behind the trees. He was acting very suspiciously.”
"In what way?"
Darcy quickly outlined what he had seen and heard. She listened intently, her brow wrinkling in concentration.
“And he was speaking in French?”
Darcy nodded.
“What does your cousin think?”
The question startled him. So, she had put two and two together. She had worked out that he had consulted Richard that night after he returned from the garden.
What should he answer? He decided on the truth. “He thinks I am jealous.”
He expected her to be taken aback, but instead she regarded him closely. “Are you?”
He snorted. "Why would I be jealous?”
Why indeed? Perhaps because she spent too much time with Riquer. Or because Riquer could teach her the new types of magic she craved. Or because Riquer made her laugh. Or because he was more charming and more handsome than Darcy.
Maybe not more handsome.Definitelynot more handsome.
A lopsided smile settled on her lips. “Why, indeed?”
Her smile warmed him inside, melting away his tension. A wave of protectiveness spread through him. He wanted to wrap her up and keep her from harm. She was too willing to see the good in people, but it worked in his own favor. After all, she had trusted him, when he had done nothing to deserve it. He had gone behind her back and asked for Redmond as her replacement. She had done everything she could to make their Bond work, when he had looked down his nose at her and derided her attempts. That was who she was, and he did not want her to change. He just wanted to make her happy. And he could not allow Riquer to destroy her happiness.
“I am not jealous,” said Darcy. “I am concerned. There is a huge difference.”
He did not elaborate. They had spoken about this before. She had objected to being treated like fragile porcelain and had made it very clear that she did not want to be cossetted and fussed over. He had come to understand that. He knew she could stand on her own feet. But he was a gentleman, and it was hard for him to overcome the instinct to keep her safe.
“Let us not quarrel, my love,” he said. “You know your mind and I will not try to change it. You cannot convince me to trust Riquer, and I cannot persuade you to distrust him. Time will tell which one of us is right. But I would urge you to be cautious, and not to let your guard down. Will you promise me that, at least?”
She slid her hands around his neck, pulling him towards her.
“Very well.” Her voice was tender, the corner of her mouth curling. “Just remember that you promised not to try to protect me. I am a strong mage and can protect myself.”
