She was mortified, shocked, confounded.
Elizabeth fell to the floor, the force of Harry's memories literally knocking her from her feet. She curled in a ball, gasping for breath, clutching her head, willing the ache that pierced her mind to stop. She shut her eyes against the horror of what she'd witnessed.
Gradually, the pain diminished. She opened her eyes and raised herself to her knees. She did not dare look at the mirror again. She stared at the floor, resting on all fours as she struggled to regain command over herself — to comprehend the knowledge she'd just received.
Harry Dashwood was trapped inside the Mirror of Narcissus, and had been for weeks. While she and Darcy had maintained surveillance outside, suspecting Harry of wrongdoing, the old Hell-Fire Club had released its leader and imprisoned Harry in his stead. And while Harry's spirit was trapped. Sir Francis roamed free in his shell.
It was Sir Francis, then, who had hurt Kitty, who had insulted her and Darcy. Who led London's bloods in new explorations of debauchery. Who had alienated Harry's friends and family to the point of losing his maternal inheritance, then gambled away his estate. It was Sir Francis whom Elizabeth had left in the drawing room with Elinor, and who would come looking for her if her absence was realized.
She pushed herself to her feet. From the corner of her eye, she detected Harry attempting to capture her attention. She averted her gaze, fixing it instead upon the door. She prayed Sir Francis would not come through it while she deliberated what to do.
Harry must be released from the mirror But how? His body and soul had been separated through some unholy ritual enacted by Sir Francis and twelve others — all of them practiced communicants. What could she, ignorant of their rites, unprepared for the test of spirit, accomplish alone? She regreted again the lack of Professor Randolph's amulet. She needed its protection. She needed the archaeologist's knowledge. She needed a plan. She needed Darcy.
'I am leaving to summon assistance, Mr. Dashwood.' She did not know how he responded to the statement, for she yet avoided sight of the glass. 'But I shall return. I give you my word.'
She descended to the drawing room, wondering how long she'd been gone and what had transpired in the interim.
Thankfully, she heard Elinor's voice, indicating that Harry's aunt and Mr. Dashwood — Sir Francis — were yet in conference.
God willing, they remained unaware that she'd been anywhere but waiting in the hall.
She entered to find Sir Francis well into a new bottle of brimstone. The smell of the liquor made her stomach roil, and the sight of him filled her with revulsion. She concentrated on maintaining a steady countenance so as not to betray her new knowledge of him.
'Mrs. Darcy' Sir Francis greeted her 'Have you elected to rejoin us?'
'I am afraid that I feel indisposed and would like to return home. Mrs. Ferrars, if you have not completed your call, I would be happy to send my carriage back to convey you whenever you are ready'
'You do look raiher peaked,' Sir Francis observed.
She realized belatedly that in having so studiously avoided looking into the mirror, she had no idea whether her ordeal had left any telltale effects. But if her appearance made her look even more ill than she felt, so much the better.
'Let us leave at once, Mrs. Darcy.' Elinor said, 'for my business here is finished.'
'Yes, my aunt was taking me to task for my irresponsible behavior, until I iniormed her that I shall soon be settling down. I am engaged to be married, you see.'
Elizabeth blinked at the unexpected news. 'May I ask who the lady is?'
'My lovely cousin Regina.'
'Congratulations.' She did her best to mask the speculation the announcement occasioned. Was this, she wondered, the subject of his earlier row with Lucy Ferrars? With Norland lost and Regina in possession of Fanny's fortune, the match Regina's pushy mama had once so aggressively pursued was now of advantage only to Mr Dashwood. 'I wish you better success in reaching the altar this time'
'Oh, I shall reach it. We plan to wed as soon as a special license can be procured.'
Having sacrificed Harry's estate to the pursuit of pleasure, Sir Francis would thus secure the remainder of Harry's rightful fortune. Meanwhile the unsuspecting Regina would be trapped in a marriage with the devil in disguise.
'That is little time to prepare for a wedding. How does Miss Ferrars feel about such a brief engagement?'
'She is flattered by the intensity of my ardor.'
Of course she was. The green girl had never received a second look from any man until Fanny settled her fortune upon her, and by then she'd been groomed by her mother to covet Mr. Dashwood's addresses above all others.
Her head yet ached, and this new intelligence only worsened it. Repeating her plea of indisposition, she departed with Elinor. She wanted nothing more than to get away from this place, to consult Professor Randolph and to confide in Darcy.
'You will tell me, I know, that this may, or may not have happened; but I will listen to no cavil, unless you can point out any other understanding of this affair as satisfactory as this.'
Darcy glowered at Julian Randolph. 'If my wife has endangered herself as the result of a conversation with you—'
'I'm sure she has not.' the professor said hastily. 'I've called today only as a precaution'
Darcy was little satisfied. Until Elizabeth returned home from her leavetaking of Elinor Ferrars and promised to not so much as muse about Mr. Dashwood or his mirror, he would hold Randolph culpable for every moment of his own uneasiness. The archaeologist had called at their townhouse following a discussion he and Elizabeth had
