The two of them stood there silently for a while, staring at the line on the horizon that marked the coast of France. It was unlike Elizabeth to be quiet, and he felt he had to say something. He did not know what – something reassuring or comforting.
“We are not going to Pemberley, are we?” he whispered.
The words clogged his throat. It was a terrible thing to say. That was not what he intended. How could he do such a thing to her, to take away the frail hope? He needed to help her be strong, to confront whatever it was that was coming.
She gave a resigned smile. “No, we’re not. It was a good dream, but like all dreams, it has come to an end.” Her voice was wistful. “But I am glad we had the dream, for a while at least.”
He met her gaze, and saw his thoughts mirrored in hers – the intense disappointment, the anxiety, and the frustration at this sudden intervention. It was as if fate did not want them to be together.
“Let us cling to the hope that, once this is over, we will be free to go to Pemberley.”
He took her hand, entwining her fingers within his.
“I would rather cling to you,” she said, sending their interlaced fingers a significant look, “than cling to dreams that are built on sand.”
“Sand?” said Darcy. “I think you must mean shingle.” He tried to make a joke of it.
She turned to him, her eyes shining with tears and love. It broke his heart.
As the carriage rumbled away from Walmer Castle, Elizabeth told herself that she ought to sleep, but all her thoughts were on Darcy.
How much time did they have together? What would tomorrow bring? Was this carriage ride their last chance to be together?
She moved closer to him. She needed to feel him against her, to hear the beating of his heart, to listen to his breathing. There was a fierce urgency to it. She could not possibly sleep. She needed to spend this time with him. She would not sleep. Who knew what the future held?
She leaned her head on his shoulder. At first, she was conscious of her father and Lord Matlock being in the carriage with them, but then she no longer cared. It was more important to enjoy every moment of Darcy's presence. The steady drum of his heartbeat slowly reassured her. They sat close, relishing each other's touch, quiet and soft. The outside world receded as she let everything else go. He was her anchor. He was her whole world, right here, right now. He was all she needed.
The scenery grew more dramatic as the day went on. First they climbed upwards. Then they reached a plateau of undulating hills and flat grassy landscapes where sheep grazed and gazed at them, chewing lazily as the carriage passed by.
"See the flat edge of the grass there? It is very deceptive," said Mr. Bennet. "There is a sheer cliff there. If you kept walking pastit, you would fall a long way down to the beach. Can you imagine that?"
"I cannot imagine it, and I do not wish to, either." Elizabeth stared at her father. "Must you talk about dying, today, of all days?"
Mr. Bennet’s mouth twisted. "I only said if you kept walking. Since you are in a carriage, there is no danger of anything happening, is there? It is just that it looks so flat and green, no one expects to see a sharp drop — until you do. The white cliffs are striking. You will be seeing them soon, when we approach Dover."
His statement improved her spirits. Her gloomy thoughts gave way to excitement at the prospect of seeing the famous cliffs of Dover.
When she finally saw them, she gaped. Nothing had prepared her for the sight.
"I knew you would like them," said Mr. Bennet. "They’re breathtaking, are they not?"
"And that is Dover Castle," said Lord Matlock, consulting the map he had spread out on his lap. "And next to it, you can just make out the Roman Lighthouse." He pointed. "It has stood there for close to two thousand years."
She stared at the lighthouse, trying to imagine the people who had built it. Did they imagine it would still be standing so many centuries later? How many storms had it weathered since Rome was an empire? It had been standing there, watching over the sea tirelessly while civilizations had come and gone.
Approaching Hythe, they made their way up a small hill and past a Norman church overlooking the sea. Elizabeth peeredacross the Channel at the French coast, which was little more than twenty miles away. Below them, she could see the line of Martello towers dotting the coast like sentinels guarding the sea. She counted eight of them. Even though they only held a handful of soldiers, there was a reassuring solidity to them.
On the other side, the straight line of the Military Canal that was built to protect Romney Marsh was clearly visible. Above it, amongst the trees, she could see the redcoats, busy hauling up cannons to the top and positioning them pointing towards the sea.
“That round building is Dymchurch Redoubt, our destination,” said Lord Matlock. “It was built specifically in case Napoleon invades. They’ll be firing on the Imperial Mages from there. It’s a fortress and garrison. It can house around 350 soldiers and officers. If we stay here for a long time, we will lodge there, but for now, we will stay at the Bell. It is more convenient for us because it is closer to the beach where we need to set up our defenses.”
Elizabeth’s heart quickened. All this military talk was making everything more real. She had grown accustomed to fighting, but it had always been against other mages. That was something that left her with some measure of control, but cannons and garrisons were not something she had encountered before.
When they arrived, they found the fort a hive of activity. The cannons were being cleaned and repositioned, the area was being scoured for spies, and soldiers were being drilled. They were met by the commander in charge, Sir Robert Fremantle, an officer and a mage. He welcomed them without much fuss and gave them a quick round up of what was going on.
“Fortunately, we have prepared for this eventuality. The Admiralty has always considered Hythe a likely area for an incursion, which is why the Military Canal was built. With the overlooks we have set up, it will be virtually impossible for theImperial troops to go through. I am in the process of stationing men along the Canal. They will have the advantage of being invisible while the boats will have to pass right under them. It is the perfect set-up. Meanwhile, we have minor mages and soldiers scouring the area to make sure there are no Imperial Mages waiting to ambush them. We will count on you as Royal Mages to do a more thorough magical sweep. I will send men with you to show you where you need to go.”
They rapidly changed into their official Royal Mage robes that would keep them warm and be used during battle, then it was time to start their work of setting up the Wards, and planning their defenses to ensure the Imperial mages could not push their way onto the beach or sail their boats down the Canal.
