"Elemental. Her affinity is earth and water."
"And your cousin Anne?"
"Anne is a Conjurer and a Healer."
"Like my sister Lydia."
"Yes, but not as powerful. Her magic was not considered strong enough for her to be trained by the Academy. Still, it isall about Bloodlines, as those like Lady Alice would say. Anne comes from generations of mages with Talent. Even supposing she is not a strong mage, our offspring could still have had powerful magical abilities. Except that it is not so simple in Anne’s case. She is sickly and practicing magic drains her very quickly – much more quickly than the average mage. As a result, we have no idea of the full extent of her abilities. She might be a very powerful mage, but she cannot sustain her magic long enough to be tested.”
“That must be difficult.” Elizabeth wondered if Miss de Bourgh considered herself a disappointment.
“It is. But she was raised to believe she would marry me, and so, in a sense, her future was clear.”
Elizabeth could not help feeling sorry for Miss de Bourgh.
“You said you and your aunt parted badly. Did you quarrel?”
“Yes. She was very clear she wanted nothing to do with me.”
“And you have not communicated since?”
“How could we, when she made her wishes clear?”
Elizabeth blinked. If she had known about it, she would have suggested that Darcy should write to his aunt and try to mend things between them.
“Well, let us hope she is willing to forgive you. Do you think it is possible?”
Darcy considered the question. “It is hard to say. She is used to having her way, but she has always held me in affection. I cannot imagine that she would still be angry after so many months.”
“I hope you are right, Darcy, for Jane’s sake, though it does not sound like you care much for her good opinion.”
“I suppose not,” he said, glad that Elizabeth was abandoning her inquisition. “But I am certain my aunt will not hold a grudge.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Good. I am looking forward to meeting her.”
Rosings Park turned out to be an estate of considerable size. A well-kept road swept past the pretty village of Hunsford, and past a large brick house that was the Parsonage.
The Wards surrounding the house stopped them from entering. They waited patiently for someone to come, knowing that the household would have been alerted.
Finally, the door of the house opened, and the butler emerged. He came walking slowly towards them.
Elizabeth seethed with impatience. Every slow step he took was time lost in healing Jane.
“Good evening, Bartle,” said Darcy. “The very person I was hoping to see! How are you doing these days?”
The butler looked uncomfortable. “Well enough, Master Darcy.”
“Please convey my apologies to her ladyship for appearing unannounced and tell her I have a party of Royal Mages with me. There has been an accident, and my wife’s sister has been seriously injured. Kindly inform Lady Catherine that we urgently need a Healer and a bed for the night.”
Elizabeth wanted to rush into the house and see to it that Jane was taken care of. She curbed her impatience. Better to let Darcy deal with the situation. He knew his aunt best.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, Lady Catherine came out, dressed in an old-fashioned gowna la polonaise,complete with three ruffles. Her tall, powdered wig made her tower over everyone present.
She did not even look in Elizabeth’s direction. “Darcy! What do you think you are doing here? You cannot simply show up unannounced. Rosings is not a coaching inn.”
“Aunt Catherine, please understand that these are special circumstances. We are in urgent need of assistance. Surely you will not turn away your own nephew.”
“This is my home. I am perfectly entitled to turn you away. I thought I made myself perfectly clear the last time I saw you. You do not have permission to call me ‘Aunt’,” she said coldly, “and you are no longer welcome at Rosings. Do you think I have forgotten your disgraceful behavior with my daughter? I have not succumbed to senility. As far as I am concerned, you have ceased to exist.”
