Page 38 of Master of Himself

“I haven’t the foggiest notion. You’re the one who summoned him from the ether. Try doing that again.”

Darcy grumbled and rose to his feet. Gazing skyward, he raised his palms. “What do you want from me, oh wise one? How shall I atone for whatever transgression I’ve committed against you?”

The only sounds that followed were the wind rustling through the trees, the fallen leaves scattering over the ground, and the babbling brook.

And Henry’s snickering.

Charles shook his head at the absurdity. At this rate, they would never find their way out of this imbroglio.

***

Alone in the master’s chamber, Darcy studied his friend’s reflection in the looking glass, as Charles’s harsh rebuke of his conduct at the assembly echoed in his ears. Hearing that home truth spoken in his own voice had had a stinging effect. He’d been forced to admit that his behaviour had been abysmally rude.

Worse yet, he had offended lovely Elizabeth. He had apologised through a surrogate, but he vowed to make proper amends to her once he’d returned to his true form. He owed her at least that much.

Furthermore, he owed Charles a better performance at the next assembly. He doubted his amiable and obliging friend had ever offended anyone in his entire life. Unfortunately, his penance would involve his most abhorred activity, most certainly with women below his station.

Not that he was unaccustomed to dancing with the lower classes. He had often done so at home on public days and at the Lambton assembly, but he had been acquainted with those ladies. In fact, he’d known all their names and their families.

But for some reason, he hadn’t made much of an effort to learn the names of the people he’d met in Meryton. While he knew the Bennets and Lucases, he had trouble recalling their younger children’s names – there were so many of them, after all. However, this issue seemed to be of some importance to Charles, so he would try to follow his example.

How extraordinary that this matter arose because of the discussion of the mysterious hooded man. At the time, Darcy had thought the man was merely a stage actor reciting a line from Shakespeare. How could he have suspected he was an ancient sage?

What was the line he had quoted from Henry VIII? He distinctly recalled it as Queen Katherine’s speech to Cardinal Wolsey.

“You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, with meekness and humility; but your heart is crammed with arrogancy, spleen and pride.”

In that play, Shakespeare had characterised the cardinal as ambitious and underhanded, but surely, no one could lay those charges at Darcy’s door. Certainly no one so wholly unacquainted with him.

Weather gods, fairies, and soothsayers? He doubted such beings existed, or if they did, that they would bother themselves with Darcy’s affairs. Why would some mythical sorcerer single him out and accuse him of being overly arrogant and proud? He might be proud, but what man of his standing wouldn’t be proud of his ancestry and birthright?

On the other hand, he had to admit that the hooded man had correctly warned him of Georgiana’s imminent danger in Ramsgate. While it was entirely possible that the man had heard of his sister’s summer residence from some mutual acquaintance, Darcy rather doubted this explanation, especially since he had appeared again at Vauxhall Gardens. Had the second speech been intended as another warning?

The harsh truth was that if he hadn’t acted on the old man’s advice, Georgiana would have been lost to him. Wickham would have carried her off and taken control of her fortune. This alone should be reason enough to give the matter more consideration.

Was that ancient man also responsible for the circumstances in which he now found himself? It seemed beyond imagination, but his friend’s reflection in the glass was another undeniable truth.

Perhaps he ought not to discount the existence of sorcerers so completely.

Chapter 14

Monday 18 November

~~~~~

The sun shone brightly on the surface of the brook as Darcy and Elizabeth walked along the worn path. With her glowing smile and loose hair fluttering in the breeze, she had never looked lovelier. Unable to remain silent a moment longer, he stopped and tenderly took her hand.

“Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how much I admire and love you.”

A crease formed in her brow, and she withdrew her hand. “I thank you for your charming declaration, Mr Darcy, but I must beg you to say no more.”

“My feelings must not be repressed.”

“No, indeed, you must follow your heart, but I fear you are much mistaken.”

He persevered, determined to prove himself. “You have bewitched me since the onset of our acquaintance.”

She sadly shook her head. “Prepare yourself for something dreadful, Mr Darcy, but I’m not Elizabeth; I am Jane.”