The sorcerer shrugged, his eyes narrowing. “As you wish, although you may yet see the foolishness of your ways. But that is enough for tonight. Sleep well, Darcy.”
As if he would ever sleep again.
IT WAS WELL PAST MIDNIGHTwhen Wickham strolled into the library that had become Darcy’s prison. “Well, well. The omnipotent Darcy, brought low at last.”
Darcy had known Wickham would not be able to resist coming to gloat, but after watching Anne die, it seemed like pointless pettiness. “So it would seem,” he said indifferently.
“I had not expected the pleasure of a true conversation with you since you were supposed to be under a binding spell. I knew you would hate that, even more than I hated being expelled from the Collegium. I should not be surprised, since my spells never worked on you, either.”
“It would have been so much simpler for you if they had worked. You would not have had to go to all the trouble of setting up the dry wells and bespelling the Board of Inquiry.” Let Wickham see he had not been fooled.
Wickham laughed. “So, you guessed that much.”
Darcy shrugged. “I had an enlightening conversation with Prince Aelfric about you.”
Wickham clasped his hand to his chest in a pretense of surprise. “You have had dealings with Faerie? I am shocked.”
“I am certain you enjoyed tricking him into helping you. Tell me, as his liege man, do you feel even the slightest guilt over his current predicament?” Darcy had tried reaching his senses out to Aelfric once, thinking that since they were nowshurinn, it might work. He had connected, but Aelfric had been too blindly angry to notice.
“Not at all. He was useful to me as a conduit to Oberon, nothing more.”
Oberon? How had Oberon come into the picture? “No doubt you found ways to use him as well.”
“Of course. He never questioned all my hints that mortals were deliberately trying to destroy the groves. His little war did not go as far as we had hoped, but one cannot have everything. Perhaps I should visit him again and see if he is more receptive.”
Wickham had been the force behind Oberon’s distrust of mortals? And he was unaware Oberon had gone into retirement. “What did you hope to gain from that?”
Wickham smiled. “Debenham thought it would distract the government and the Collegium from looking for sorcerers. No one seemed to care, though. Did he mention to you that he has promised me Pemberley?”
Bile burned Darcy’s throat. “I cannot say I am surprised, except that you are settling for so little.”
Wickham employed his familiar, charming smile. “I have never been particularly ambitious, you know. As long as I have revenge on you and all the money and women I want, I do not care who runs the country. Perhaps I will look up dear Georgiana again. She does not share your invulnerability to sorcery, you know.”
It would only encourage Wickham if Darcy showed him any emotion. “I know. As you say, we cannot have everything.” Darcy yawned ostentatiously. “Debenham’s generosity to me does not go as far as a bed, but I sleep well enough in this chair. I could wish for a better selection of books, but I can only blame Lady Catherine for that.”
“You do not fool me, Darcy. You detest being powerless to stop me, but you should have thought of that before you took advantage when I had no power. Now the tables are turned.” He made a mocking bow. “Do sleep well, Darcy. I certainly shall.” He left with a jaunty wave.
Darcy finally let himself feel the fury choking him. Damn Wickham, and damn him again for knowing his every weak spot. But at least he had said nothing about Darcy’s ability with fire. Either he was too lazy to bother thinking out the implications, or he assumed Debenham had taken care of it already.
Not that it mattered now. Burning down Rosings would not kill Sir Lewis, so there was no point. Now Darcy had no options at all.
THE NEXT MORNING, JASPERFitzwilliam set off cheerfully for Rosings before dawn dressed as a common workman with a talisman to work the faerie rings in his pocket, but he took all the good spirits in the group with him. By the time the sun was well up in the sky, Elizabeth had begun to worry. The outbuildings at Rosings were not far apart, and it should take less than half an hour to visit them all.
Frederica picked at the fabric of her skirt. “I wish we had not let him go.” Her voice trembled.
“Jasper? He will be fine,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam a little too heartily.
“You cannot know that. He is so easily distracted.” A tear rolled down her cheek.
Elizabeth said, “He knows how important this is, and he will not let us down. He has some new skills, too. Last night, when neither of us could sleep, I taught him how to cast illusions with wild magic.”
“Could he actually do it?” asked the colonel sharply.
“As if he had been doing it all his life. I would have said wild magic ran in his blood rather than spell-making, and quite powerfully. He will be a force to reckon with when he has more experience.”
“It starts as the same thing,” said Eversleigh.
Frederica burst into tears. Her brother had his arm around her even before Eversleigh reached her.
