He turned to Elizabeth. “Are you a mage as well?”
“No. Mortal women are not permitted the use of magic.”
“Not permitted? How barbaric. You, mage – why were you pursuing her?”
“I was worried about her. She had been missing for days.”
The fay lord silently paced back and forth, back and forth. “Throwing yourself into Faerie because you were worried?” he asked scornfully.
He was going to have to say it. “I love her.” He avoided looking in Elizabeth’s direction.
“Ah, love and death, those human mysteries.” With another one of his lightning quick twists, he turned to Elizabeth. “And you. Do you love him?”
Darcy interjected, “She does not.” He would rather say it himself than hear Elizabeth saying it.
“Permit the lady to answer for herself!”
Elizabeth licked her lips, obviously uncomfortable. “My sentiments towards him are confusing. I cannot claim to love him, but I also cannot be certain I do not love him.”
Darcy stared at her, repeating her words in his mind. They made no sense. But surely it was better than a straightforward denial, was it not?
The fay lord seemed pleased by this peculiar non-answer. “Have you ever murdered a tree?”
“Murdered? Do you mean cutting it down?” asked Elizabeth in bewilderment.
“Call it what you wish.”
“I have never cut down or killed a tree. Once I asked my father to trim away a branch that was blocking my window, but the tree is stillthere.”
Had he ever given an order to cut down a tree? Darcy frantically ran through his memory. No doubt his steward had done so on occasion, and could be considered to be acting in his name –
“I do not speak of that sort of tree, but the trees in a grove.”
“I have never harmed a tree in a faerie grove.” Elizabeth sounded more certain this time.
“And you?”
“I have never cut down any trees in a grove.” Why was it so important? Were the trees sacred to the fay?
The fay lord demanded angrily, “Why have your fellow mortals broken our treaty?”
What treaty? How could he respond to this? “I beg pardon for my ignorance, Lord, but I do not know what treaty you refer to.” Was that suitably humble?
“The only treaty! The Great Treaty between fay and mortals. We gave you your freedom, and you preserved our groves!” He practically spat out the words.
How was he to admit he had never heard of this treaty the fay held so dear?
Elizabeth, braver than he, asked, “Honored Lord, when was the Great Treaty made?”
He waved his hand as if shooing away nonsense. “Perhaps a thousand of your years ago, or a little more.”
She took a deep breath. “Honored Lord, mortal life is fleeting and mortal memory is even shorter. A thousand years is more mortal generations than I can count. I am ashamed to admit that today’s mortals do not know the Great Treaty ever existed. We do not know why the fay have been attacking us. Mortals do not even know you are at war with us.”
“How can this be?” he cried. He stalked back to his throne andthrew himself into it.
Elizabeth said quietly, “It must be the Enclosure Acts. Landowners have been cutting down wooded areas and enclosing them, but when they cut down a faerie grove, the faerie ring is destroyed.”
It could not be. Or could it? Last spring one of the neighboring landowners had cleared a forested area that bordered on Rosings Park, and now fay attacks were common there. Surely the ring they had traveled through should serve the same purpose, and it was close by. But he knew nothing of how faerie rings worked or why they were important.
