He threw open the door to find Elizabeth there.
“Another spider?” he said, with a broad smile. “Give me time to put on my shoes this time.”
She did not smile back. Only now did he notice her expression. She was looking stunned. With a sob, she threw herself into his arms.
“What is it, my love?” he exclaimed, his heart racing in alarm.
“It is happening!” she said, “Darcy, we can no longer pretend this is not real. I have just heard from Riquer. They are planning to invade within the next day or two. We need to get to Hythe immediately. An attack is imminent. They are landing there!”
Her words struck him like a physical blow. All the air whooshed out of him. He felt hollow, shocked to the core.
He realized now how foolish he had been. He had let down his guard completely. Darcy had continued to hope that the whole thing was a false alarm, and that their dream of going to Pemberley remained alive.
Now the dream was gone. They were going to battle, and there was no knowing what the outcome would be.
“Did Riquer give any more details?”
She shook her head. “He was very nervous. He cannot take the risk of being overheard speaking English.”
Darcy reached out and gathered her into his arms, feeling the agitation in her breath, the rapid drumming of her heart beatingin time with his. He wanted to sink his face in her hair, but her bonnet was in the way. She was shaking. He stroked her on the back, trying to give her some comfort, even while his own thoughts whirled like a storm inside him.
"All will be well," he said, as much to reassure himself as to reassure her. "It is not the first time. We have faced battles before and we have won."
He had a sudden image of how she had looked after the battle at Founder's Hall. She had been so still, he was convinced he had lost her. He pushed the image away. It was the last thing he needed.
She nodded into his shoulder. "I know.”
She pushed herself to an upright position and smoothed down her spencer. “We need to inform everyone. We have to leave at once.”
Chapter 23
As soon as Elizabeth told them about Riquer’s message, the castle erupted with activity. There were so many questions to be answered, so many decisions to be made, messages to be sent.
“Are you certain Riquer gave you the right information?” Colonel Fitzwilliam was the fifth person to ask her the same question. “Did he say Hythe?
“He did. It is the only thing I’m sure of.”
Like last time, the message had been garbled, but he had repeated the word Hythe twice. At the back of Elizabeth’s mind there was always some doubt. Was the message garbled because she did not know how to receive it? Was it the distance? Or – as Lady Alice had suggested, was it deliberate? How could she be sure of anything?
No. She would not doubt Riquer. Why would he put himself in danger to contact her otherwise?
They discussed Hythe as a possible landing place, and the advantage of the Military Canal that had been built specifically to stop Napoleon’s mages from getting to London.
“Since they will be coming by sea, they will not be able to attack us by magical means, so we are safe from that until they step on the beach,” said Lord Matlock. “We will be there to stop them, of course. But we will still be vulnerable to cannon attacks from their ships. In case the Royal Mages fail to block the attack, there are soldiers stationed on both the sides of the Canal, and we will send messages to all the mages in the area to gather along the Canal.”
In case the Royal Mages failed to block the attack. The enormity of what that meant made Elizabeth's stomach clench. They could not allow it. They had to repel them.
She looked around her. All the faces were grim, and all of them reflected the same determination and the same recognition — that the time had come. Part of her still wanted to think it was all unreal, part of some strange, elaborate joke. How could the few people in this room stop an invasion?
"Well then," said Lord Matlock. "Any questions?"
Yes,thought Elizabeth,do you really think we could stop them?But she would never voice that uncertainty out loud.
As they stood outside waiting for the carriages to take them to Hythe, Elizabeth pulled Darcy to a quiet corner where they could stand and look out at the sea. It was a perfect day. The sea was calm, reflecting the early morning sun in little ripples of gold. It looked perfectly innocent. Tomorrow, this same sea would be carrying an enemy towards them.
It was true what Darcy had said. He had not meant it that way, but the sea was not to be trusted.
Darcy stared out at the sea, trying to bring his chaotic thoughts into order. He should have been better prepared for this, but he had been so set on returning to Pemberley that he had refused to accept the possibility of battle. He felt stupid and angry and bitter, all at the same time. His throat was so tight, he did not know if he would be able to speak.
