“When I was small, a fay child befriended me. Well, not exactly a child, because they do not have children as we know it. Just a very new one who had only recently come into being and had little experience of the world. She said she would be a dryad when she was ready, but she was very mischievous. I never knew what to believe because she could make up elaborate stories.” Elizabeth smiled in recollection. “She tried to teach me to shape-change, but needless to say that was not a success.”
“Good Lord. But I just said that, did I not? Well, it deserves saying again. Do you have any idea how rare that is?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “I have no idea. My friend took me to Faerie a time or two, so it seemed natural to me.”
The colonel’s jaw dropped. “You have been to Faerie, too? Astonishing! Does your friend still visit you?”
“No. Even though I can still see fay folk, my friend and I drifted apart. She would visit me from time to time until about two years ago. The last time she told me she could not come again because their king was declaring war on all mortals and had forbidden any fay folk to aid mortals on pain of banishment. And she gave me a cat to remember her by – the white cat named Pepper, if you recall.”
He held up his hands. “Wait, wait! Their king has declared war on us? Are you certain of this?”
Taken aback by his intensity, she said slowly, “That is what shesaid. Whether it is true or not I cannot tell you. She is fay, after all, and she had named herself Bluebird because she was neither blue nor a bird, so I would not put much credence in anything she said. Except that it does rather feel as if Faerie is at war with us, with all these attacks by the fay.”
“But why? Why would they be at war with us?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “Bluebird said it was because of the trees. She was never particularly literal, so she might have meant anything by it.”
“The trees? That makes no sense.”
Before he could continue, Darcy returned, looking frustrated. “I have been trying to explain to Anne what has happened to her mother. I cannot tell if she simply does not understand what I am saying or whether she is refusing to listen. In the end she just stared at me as if she had no idea who I was. Perhaps she is upset about her mother, but I have never seen her so confused. Richard, perhaps if you –”
“Oh, no, not me. She is terrified of me. You know what will happen. I will walk in and say ‘Cousin Anne’ and she will swoon. Or run away. Or run away and then swoon. Perhaps Miss Bennet...” The colonel turned hopefully to her.
“I barely know her,” protested Elizabeth, her self-consciousness returning with Darcy’s presence. “We have scarcely exchanged a dozen words. Oh, very well, I will try, but I have little expectation of success. Perhaps Mrs. Collins can join me. Miss de Bourgh knows her better.” She paused. “Colonel, is it possible Miss de Bourgh is afraid that you might touch her?”
“I would never hurt her! Or do you mean....Hmm. What do you think, Darcy?”
Darcy eyed him thoughtfully. “If she will not permit you to touch her, we are unlikely to find out if she has reason to avoid you.”
“I AM NOT SURPRISEDMiss de Bourgh did not understand Mr. Darcy’s explanations,” said Charlotte. “Unless one is very patient with her, she becomes confused.”
“I am unsurprised as well,” Elizabeth replied. “But my reasoning is different. Have you noticed that Miss de Bourgh’s spells of confusion and swoons usually occur when the subject of magic arises?”
“How odd. I had not made that connection. What could have made her so frightened of magic?”
“Perhaps she is not frightened of it at all,” said Elizabeth darkly. “The only reason I can think of for someone to grow confused when magic is mentioned is more magic.”
Charlotte caught at her arm. “Surely you cannot think she is under a spell?”
“That is precisely what I think, and knowing that Lady Catherine has magic, it is not difficult to guess why her daughter is bespelled.”
“A binding spell,” Charlotte breathed.
“And now you can see why I fear them. I would rather die than be like her.”
Miss de Bourgh was in her sitting room, looking distractedly out the window while Mrs. Jenkinson read to her. She stopped at the sight of them.
Charlotte nodded to her. “Mr. Darcy asked us to explain Lady Catherine’s indisposition to Miss de Bourgh.”
“Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Jenkinson. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You must be very gentle. Miss de Bourgh is not having a good day. Not a good day at all.”
“We will be gentle,” said Charlotte soothingly. “Miss de Bourgh, did Mr. Darcy explain to you that your mother has been injured?”
Miss de Bourgh rose to her feet. “Injured? I must go to her. She will expect it.”
“It will be better if you wait. Lady Catherine is unconscious and is likely to remain so for some time.”
“She swooned?” She smiled unexpectedly, a mischievous smile. “She swooned!”
