“To come back to Elizabeth’s spell – which shall remain nameless – perhaps we should all memorize it.”
Elizabeth reflected on the fireball she had managed to stifle. The French mages had built it up very slowly before stoking the fire inside it.
“I do not believe that spell will be particularly useful. I used it on a very large fireball that hovered over the Hall for a while. If the French attack the beach, they will be more likely to use something fast-moving. I think our best option would be to use Containment Wards for those. The spells are short and take effect quickly.”
They discussed which spells would be most useful for some time, until the scenery changed and the view outside occupied their attention.
As their party drew closer and closer to the coast, Elizabeth’s glum reflections shifted to anticipation. She had never seen the sea, and she could barely contain her excitement that she was finally going to fulfill a childhood dream of hers.
“Have you been to the sea?” she asked Darcy.
“I went twice to Ramsgate when my parents were alive,” he replied. “And I went another time with a group of other mages to Brighton.”
“Is the sea truly impressive?”
He chuckled. “I’m not sure what you mean by impressive, but on a sunny day, it can be considered beautiful."
She gave his arm a little shove. “Why can’t you give me a straight answer for once? Tell me whatyouthink."
"I am not good at this, Elizabeth,” said Darcy. “I could never be a poet. Surely you have read many descriptions of the sea by writers far more capable of describing it than I am."
"But I wantyouropinion. If I asked you to describe Pemberley, would I be satisfied with a historical account?"
“That is not the same, and you know it. Very well. I will do what I can.” His brows furrowed in concentration. "I find the sea disconcerting and changeable. On a calm day, it is smooth as a lake. Then a few hours later, it turns gray and turbulent. I distrust it." His eyes wrinkled. "There, I have told you what I think. Are you satisfied?"
Elizabeth was pleased that he was at least trying. It would not hurt to push him, surely. “What about the sand? Are the grains as fine as they say they are?”
He sighed. “I see you are determined to torment me. It depends on the beach. At Ramsgate, I would not say the sand was fine. I remember it being coarse and brown. It rubs against your skin and steals into your boots and clothing. But I loved building sandcastles and splashing in the water, so I was happy.”
It was a rare glimpse into Darcy’s childhood with his parents, and she wanted to take it further. “Did your parents object to the sand?”
“The nursery maid usually cleaned me up before I was ushered in to see them,” he said.
“They did not come down to the beach with you?”
He shot her a puzzled look. “Why would they?”
“I thought that is why they went to Ramsgate. What did they do there, then?”
“They walked along the promenade in the evenings during the fashionable hour and attended balls and card games. Mama hadmilky white skin, and I remember her fussing when she was exposed to the sun. She did not want to acquire freckles.”
Elizabeth had a sudden picture of a lonely boy playing on the beach with no other company than the nurse-maids.
“Wickham went with us, once,” Darcy said, as if in response to her thoughts. “He kept kicking down my castles every time I rebuilt them.”
“That is exactly what I would have expected,” she said, thinking of that little boy, stoically building a new castle only to have it kicked down.
“But in Brighton, there is no sand. The beaches are shingle, with round pebbles of different colors.”
“No sandcastles?”
Darcy smiled. “I was too old for sandcastles when I went. I was there to build wards for the Prince Regent’s palace.”
The intrusion of the Prince Regent on the conversation changed Elizabeth’s mood. She had not forgiven herself for being too naïve to see what the prince was up to, and she did not want to go back to considering her shortcomings in Mirror Magic. She preferred to look forward to the sea.
“I have always wanted to go to the sea. When I was a young child, I used to imagine that a dolphin would come to the shore and carry me away on some grand adventure.”
Mr. Bennet chose this moment to wake up. "If I knew you were longing to see the sea so much, I would have arranged for us to take up lodgings in Ramsgate," he said.
