Haha. sorry that the angst is high, we are so close. promise. I think that these next couple of chapters are the last of my original muse. i ran out after the gypsies. so you can rest easy that my angsty muse has very soon left. most of my more recent stories have far less angst in them, and the last few chapters are very fluffy. I have had loads of fun writing it.

i confess I am also writing my next story, which is splitting my attention. but I have a bee about it and its buzzing me!

anyway, this one is almost done. The last chapters are defo M rating though. so you'll have to stop if that bothers you. I'll give you a heads up. :)

anyway. hope you are all safe. here's the storm (figuratively maybe?;)

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Chapter 20

...

"Elizabeth!" She flinched at the tone in his voice, so sharp "what do you think you are doing? Get down from there this instant!"

If she hadn't been so cross she may have found the command amusing, little did he know it but he sounded just like Mrs Bennet had on many occasions during Elizabeth's younger years.

Elizabeth turned and looked at the face of her husband, filled with a myriad of emotions she could not place, except anger, she could see he was angry. And part of her felt all the more angry for it, what right did he have to feel angry?

Darcy had woken in pain and his day had gone downhill from there. His valet, almost certainly on purpose, had woken him early. Claiming it was past the time he would usually wake. Darcy had grumbled about being late to bed and the valet had merely bowed and left.

Darcy had had very little sleep by this time. His head was pounding and the room was spinning and it took an iron will to prevent himself casting up his accounts. He could not even rise and so had stayed abed.

The events of the previous evening had played through his mind, alternating between worrying he had pushed his wife in to the arms of another man and being angry at himself and Richard, although Richards's only family was to make him see himself too clearly. Then the odd events with Caroline. He was not certain what had occurred but he knew he had acted like a drunken fool and he knew he had to confess to his wife.

He had finally found the ability to rise and dress and came downstairs to a house empty of Ladies but to find an annoyingly cheerful Richard, who had informed him the ladies were visiting the troupe.

Not being one to delay once a course of action was decided he chafed at now just having to wait. When the ladies returned without Elizabeth his irritation became annoyance and it was in that poor state of mind he set out to find her.

Elizabeth, unaware of his irritable mood, and rightfully feeling he was in the wrong, decided to sport. She formed a disc of earth energy under her feet. It was surprisingly easy, very similar to a shield that she had become so adept at. She raised it slightly and she wobbled as she felt her feet move up from the ground.

"Elizabeth!"

The shout was just as loud, just as demanding. She knew she shouldn't, but she was feeling rather piqued. So she stepped off the sheer edge of the rock.

"Nooooooooooo!" the shout was more an agonised scream and she did feel a little guilty. She floated herself gently down and landed next to her fuming husband.

At any other time Darcy would, no doubt, have appreciated the magical feat that his wife had just shown. Not in his current state.

"What on earth do you think you are doing?" The voice was booming, as if she was still high up "you cannot act like a child of a country nobody anymore, you are the mistress of Pemberley and I expect you to act like it!"

Elizabeth remained calm, turned to Peter, the footman, who was studying the bark of a nearby tree as if it were fascinating.

"Peter" she called, he turned slightly, but kept his eyes downcast. "Would you be so kind as to return to the house, inform Georgiana that Mr Darcy and myself are walking and so will miss refreshments, we will be back in time for luncheon."

"Right away ma'am, if you wish?"

The last was almost a plea, did she really wish for him to leave her alone? She smiled slightly and nodded for him leave her.

Darcy had turned away and was pacing now. Once Peter was out of sight she rounded on him.

"How dare you" her voice was low, but the tone was piercing "how dare you come here and shout at me like I am a fishwife. How dare you do so in-front of the servants. My behaviour may have been less than ladylike but it is harmless and yours, sir" she almost sneered the last word "is not that of a gentleman. Explain yourself!"

"I have been waiting for my wife to return only to find you scampering off about the countryside for no apparent reason. Climbing rocks like an urchin then using magic as if you were one of the travelling curiosities. I am your husband it is my right to be able to direct you to behave in a manner that is fit for the Darcy name."

"Ah yes, and me from my poor country background am unlikely to be anything more than a degradation. So disappointing, in fact, that I find you kissing another woman the moment my attention is elsewhere."

Darcy felt cold all over, she had seen? What had she seen? Shame washed over him and then, of its own violation, the words of her letter filled his head and anger fuelled him once again.

"You dare accuse me of infidelity when I have evidence of you taking comfort in Sam's embrace? You leave my family over the festive period to spend a number of days with your lover and only return after I fetch you and yet you are blaming me for a momentary lapse in concentration, which was only fuelled by the amount of alcohol I had been drinking in response to reading your letter!"

"And why, sir, are you reading my private correspondence?" Elizabeth was furious, how dare he go through her writing desk and remove a private letter like that? And he had evidently completely misunderstood what had been written.

"I found it lying around, I would have returned to to you but was struck by the intimacy of the tone. And here you are, accusing me of acting improperly."

"If you had asked me, sir, like any husband should do when confronted with something their wife had written, then you may have discovered nothing was amiss and not needed to drown your self in brandy. Would that have stopped your momentary lapse I do not know." Her tone was scathing.

"We need to talk" he shook his head, trying to dispel the anger and fear that was driving his poor choice of words.

"We have been talking these ten minutes and yet it appears we have little to say to one another that is not a wild accusation." She was tired of this, yes she needed to talk to him, but this was not the way. She knew her temper was frayed, last time they had argued she had unleashed a storm, this time her magic was wild around her but it was under good regulation. Not a breath of air was being disturbed. She smiled grimly to herself, if she released it she wondered what it would do, a hurricane perhaps?

She tried to turn away, Darcy knew he should let her, knew this conversation was not going well, but months of tension were boiling up, weeks of feeling his wife to be in danger and sleepless nights had taken their toll. He was not thinking rationally and all that was playing through his head was an image of his wife in the arms of the man from Billingham manor and now his wife disobeying him. An angry and frustrated man does not always act with good regulation, it was safe to say that Darcy was not thinking straight.

"Mrs Darcy you will not walk away from me", he commanded "you have sworn to obey me before God and you will do so."

She spun on her heel, face full of indignation at being addressed so.

"You wish to talk, then mayhap you can explain why your aura and mine have not combined, why I am not yet a Darcy?"

He stopped and the blood drained from his face.

"You know about that?"

"I know that most wives receive this gift on their wedding night, the only ones who do not are usually unwanted brides, is that it? Am I unwanted?"

It was as she spoke these words that the events of the last few months started making sense, why her marriage had not felt right, why Darcy had been acting so formal, but only when they were alone.

"It's the way you treat me in private, is it not? That is the reason I have not received the Darcy legacy, some sort of silly bonding to do with marital intimacies?"

She could see in his face that she was right.

"And you knew this? You have been deliberately treating me the way you have been to keep me from it?"

Darcy had watched as she had worked everything out, anger melting away as he felt, again and forcefully, the shame of his actions. He had not thought of how she would have felt in the face of his apparent lack of interest, he had not thought about the Darcy legacy at all initially. It had never occurred to him that Elizabeth may worry about not receiving it.

"I was warned that to be with truly you may expose you, so..." he trailed off

"So you decided to treat me like an unwanted wife?"

"No Elizabeth, you were always wanted." He took a half step toward her, hand rising as if to reach for her. He dropped it as he saw the expression on her face. "It has been torture treating you like that when all I wish to do is..." he was lost for words again.

"Why did you not talk to me about it?" She paused, Darcy's eyes were downcast "did you not think I would understand, that maybe together we could figure out why that act would expose me?"

Another pause.

"Why would you think it would expose me?"

Darcy was clearly reluctant to speak on, but he knew he could not avoid it.

"I was warned that in the act of marital intimacies your magic may run unchecked, a storm in Kent is one thing, but one over Darcy house is quite another."

"The storm was as a result of an argument!" She said, incredulously.

"Yes but power floods out of you every-time we kissed, remember what happened in Hertfordshire?"

"That wasn't just my magic if I recall correctly!"

Darcy looked away from her burning eyes, knowing her arguments were sound. "I thought I was protecting you!" He tried to plead for her understanding.

"I assume this source of information was someone trustworthy, who would not try to deceive you as a way of causing pain or distress?"

She could see in his eyes the answer. Her anger had simmered but the wave of disappointment that filled her was going to be harder to ignore. She just wanted this argument to be over, it was too much to process and she needed time to think! She knew just how to end it.

"The letter you found was to Mrs Samantha Mitchell, who's embrace I do miss when alone with my husband who had no interest in touching me beyond the barest amount. The pull of danger that you feel is likely because I am possibly with child and I assume you gift recognises there is always an element of danger when a woman carries a child. I only found this out today. You can dispense with intimacies of any kind if you are so inclined. Now I must beg your indulgence as I need time to contemplate everything that has been said, I will return for luncheon."

She turned and walked, ignoring the strangled call of "Elizabeth". Darcy was clearly agitated and upset, he was in no position to speak rationally. She was more angry than she could ever remember being, she needed time alone. Darcy, not wishing to make more of a hash of things, gave her the privacy she wished for. He wished he had thought to give her more time before this point.

...

Elizabeth did not know how long she walked, the heated words they had exchanged running through her head. He had purposely misled her, for what? For what reason? Because he did not trust her with a simple possibility, because he did not think she was capable of discussing mature subjects. Why was he behaving so much like a misogynistic argh! She was not even sure she had a word for him.

Elizabeth looked up at the sound of a twig snapping, the man in front of her smiled grimly.

"'Ello Mrs Darcy."

She took a step back and found a hand on her shoulder. Stepping away she realised there were five people around her, how had she not noticed them? She had been very distracted, but this lapse was unthinkable, and she was going to pay for it.

"What are you doing on Pemberley land?" Her voice was clear and strong, not showing the waver of fear she felt.

The only woman of the group stepped forward and raised her hands, Elizabeth could see the shield form around her and frowned, three of the other men also formed shields, one of each element she thought. Then the woman, whose element appeared to be air, started to withdraw the air from the bubble. Elizabeth's eyes widened as the trickle of fear became a torrent.

"You sure you know what you are doing? We have strict instructions!" One of the men spoke softly.

"Of course I do, that's why I was chosen. She'll only swoon."

Elizabeth felt the air draining away, and with it her ability to breathe easily. What an interesting use of magic, evil, but cunning. Her breath was coming slower now, shallower and she was feeling a light headed feeling, she knew she would black out soon. She reached out and tried to disrupt the shield, but without touching the person she couldn't, a shield in each field meant she couldn't pass magic through it from her either. Unable to reach for stones or other weapons she thought again.

Gasping she fell to her knees, dizziness sweeping over her. Hands on the ground she thought fast. She looked at the bubbles, smooth over her, but from her experience of holding shields there had to be a start point of the magic. She looked around but the bubble overhead was seamless. She looked down again and there it was, hidden in the ground, a line where the magic came together. She concentrated all her waning strength at that point and pushed.

Nothing, followed by another wave of dizziness.

"She's almost gone, keep holding."

Anger coursed through her, how dare these people come to her land and attack her? Using the anger she slammed her hands in to the earth and sent a pulse of it through the ground. The earth shield fractured and the ground underneath all of them rocked with the wave of magic. Everyone stumbled and the shields were gone, Elizabeth breathed deep gulps of air, but she had little time. The air witch, who had been thrown to the floor, was rising and preparing another shield. Elizabeth moved the earth under her feet and the woman went tumbling down the hill they were on. She turned and faced the other four, hair flying around her and eyes blazing. She would have been quite the sight to see had anyone bothered to look properly.

One attacker she pushed back with a blast of air and she sent multiple stone missiles at two others. The fourth, and last, she turned to and froze. He did not seem to have much magic, but he had a gun, pointing at her. Most bullets were made of lead, which was of the earth. She had practiced with guns shooting at her shields, but never at her, and never this close. The faster the bullet the harder to stop.

She put up her shield, and her hands, and spoke.

"I can see you are without magic, this does not concern you. Why are you here?" As she spoke she gathered some water over where she knew the powder to be, then dropped it in to the weapon. Dampened powder did not guarantee no shot, but it made her breathe a little easier.

The man looked around, the woman at the bottom of the slope was no where to be seen. Two of the other men were groaning, one had injured his leg in the fall, blood was soaking through the rough hewn trousers, one appeared to have hit his head and was barely conscious. The other man scrambled up, looked around and turned to run. Elizabeth let him go and allowed the gunman to follow a moment later.

She turned to the two downed attackers and thought through her options, allowing herself a small internal cheer for overcoming five attackers.