Just as he should have kept Elizabeth safe. He ought to have guessed her intentions. He knew she was obstinate and headstrong and reckless, and yet he had ridden away without even asking what she intended to do.
And now he was failing the Prince Regent because his magic was fading. His Bond with Redmond was fading, and his physical strength was reaching its limits.
His dismal reflections were draining him. He could not continue in that direction. He needed a distraction. “Talk to me, Redmond,” he said, in sheer desperation.
Redmond licked his parched lips. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me something about yourself. Do you have a young lady who interests you?”
“I—that is a rather private question, sir, ” he said, looking affronted, his ears turning red.
“I did not mean to offend you. I was just trying to keep myself awake.” There was a buzzing in Darcy’s ears, and he was finding it hard to focus his vision.
Redmond hesitated. “In that case—.” He became suddenly shy. “You will not tell anyone, sir, will you?”
“I can keep a secret, Redmond.”
“Well, I do like Miss Lydia Bennet,” he said. “I mean, I think I do. She was sent away, so I have not seen her for some time, but I think about her. She is unlike any of the other young ladies I mean. She is spirited and lively and— well, I like her,” he finished, lamely.
If he did not know Lydia, he would have thought she sounded like Elizabeth.
“Perhaps we can arrange for her to be transferred,” said Darcy. “One of us deserves to be happy, at least.”
Grief overwhelmed him. Elizabeth had stepped into the mirror. Of all the foolish, dangerous things to do! How was he to live without her?
“Mr. Darcy. Sir!” Redmond put out his hand to shake Darcy. “You were about to fall. Please hold on sir. I don’t know if I can do it alone.”
“You are stronger than you think, Redmond.”
“Ask me more questions, Mr. Darcy. I am happy to answer.” There was desperation in his voice.
Despite Redmond’s attempts, Darcy’s mind was growing clouded.
“Darcy!! Where are you? Darcy!” The sound of Elizabeth's voice jerked Darcy awake. He sat up and looked around him, befuddled. It must be an illusion, sent by an Imperial mage to torment him.
“Darcy!” There it was again. “Redmond! Are you here?”
"Did you hear that?" he said to Redmond. “Someone calling?”
Redmond blinked and looked around. "I did. It is Mrs. Darcy."
He heard it again. This time it was so real, so close, he had to believe in it. He found the will to struggle to his feet.
Darcy grinned wildly. "Then either we are both having the same hallucination, or Elizabeth has found us."
And suddenly, there she was, standing just a few feet away from him.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, feeling the world tilting around him. She was alive! She was alive and well. His heart jolted painfully with joy and amazement.
He did not want to hope, in case it was a trick by a French Conjurer. But then she called his name, and he chose to believe the illusion because it provided an escape. If he was descending into madness, then so be it. At least he would not feel like his world had ended.
“Darcy,” she said, in a soft whisper. “Let me take over the Ward.” Her magic signature nudged against him, but he had a sudden fear that the illusion was trying to make him let go so the prince would be killed. He resisted, pushing against the intrusion.
“Darcy, it’s me. Look at me.”
He refused to look. Then he felt the soft press of her lips and he opened her eyes, seeing her fully. It was Elizabeth, his Elizabeth, her dark eyes looking into his.
It was real, perfectly real. He started to chuckle, a hoarse sound that he did not recognize. “Elizabeth, my love, Why do you have mud on your hair?” he asked.
