Chapter 31
“Richard!” Darcy embraced his cousin and thumped his back. “Good to see you!”
Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam grinned. “Likewise, especially the part about you being alive, well, and in England.”
“I had not known you were in Town - not that it mattered, since I am here in disguise and could not have called on you anyway. But this is a happy surprise.”
“Ah, yes.” Richard coughed. “About that disguise. That is why I am here, actually, with a warning. The War Office has discovered your presence and is planning to arrest you as soon as you set foot off the castle grounds.”
“Not that again!” Darcy exclaimed in annoyance. “The King assured me he had instructed them to leave me alone.”
Richard chuckled. “He did. Unfortunately, the War Office still thinks of him as a lunatic. They decided this was part of his madness. Likely we could straighten this out given some time, but I fear they would stick you on the first boat to France.”
Darcy groaned. “I had hoped we were past this nonsense. No matter; it is time for me to return to Pemberley in any case, and I will simply make certain to avoid them until then.” Between Coquelicot and his ability to remain invisible, it should not be too difficult. “How did they learn I was here?”
“His Majesty again. He must have told them he had just spoken to you. Your mother told me where you were, but I warned her to say nothing about you to anyone from the War Office. Why are you here, anyway? I thought you had to stay at Pemberley?”
Darcy grimaced. “I was needed for the small matter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”
“Oh, that was you? All I heard was that she had fallen ill and was going into seclusion again. Well done!”
“Your sister deserves more credit than I do, along with the dragons. And--” His throat suddenly closed on Jack's name.
Good God, was that binding against telling anyone Jack was alive still intact?
Surely Richard must know already - no, he could not, for they had decided against announcing it before they had dealt with Lady Catherine, and since then everything had been in an uproar.
“Did my mother mention anything...er...unusual to you?”
Richard shook his head. “Nothing in particular.”
Devil take this binding! He caught at Richard's elbow and led him into the corridor. “Come with me.”
“What is this?” Richard protested.
Darcy did not pause at the door to Jack's chamber, lest even a knock would trigger the binding. He simply opened the door and barged in, with Richard in tow.
Jack lay sprawled on the bed, sound asleep. Darcy shook his shoulder. “Jack, wake up, and tell Richard you are not dead.”
All the color had drained from Richard's face, but he froze only for a moment before striding forward and seizing Jack's arm. “Damn you, is this true? We thought you were dead! I was at your funeral!”
Jack rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “Are you damning me for being alive or dead?” he inquired groggily.
“Both!” Richard roared. “And you, Darcy! Why did you say nothing? You practically gave me an apoplexy, dragging me in here without any warning!”
With a half-smile, Darcy tipped his head towards Jack, tapping his lips.
“Oh, right,” Jack said. “A stupid binding from a dead dragon. He cannot tell anyone I am alive.”
“Dragons again? I should have known,” Richard complained.
“I was their prisoner since Salamanca. Not that they were ever unkind.”
Richard scowled. “What did they do to you?”
Jack yawned. “Rescued me, imprisoned me, bonded me to one of their own, and set me free. Darcy, if you are going to rouse me out of a sound sleep, at least send for some coffee!”
Darcy did so, and when there was next a break in the conversation, he asked, “Richard, what is the latest word from France?”
His cousin scowled. “Nothing good. The Corsican bastard has defeated the Tyrolean rebels and is on his way back to Paris and thence to Boulogne, where his army and his ships await.”
Jack asked urgently, “How long do we have?”
“If he races his armies along at their fastest marching speed and the winds lie fair, perhaps a month. If he takes his time, perhaps two or three months. If he waits much longer than that, he risks running into storms. His invasion ships are no more than barges; they would not survive a major blow.”
One to three months, then, and still so much to do in preparation. As much as he would like to stay for Jack's sake, it was time to go back to Pemberley.
Roderick threw his jacket on the bed, an uncharacteristic departure from his usual tidiness. “I wish I could help for your sake,” he said. “But I cannot betray my own country.”
“I am not asking you to reveal your own King’s Bond, just to talk to Jack. Tell him about it as if you learned it from old stories. He needs your knowledge.”
“It will make no difference. Without someone to awaken the Bond, his abilities will be barely stronger than a land Talent. And it would only draw unnecessary attention to me.”
“Do you not want to stop Napoleon? Awakening his Bond is our best hope!” How often had they repeated this argument in the last few days? This stood like a wall between them, for all that they were sharing a bed at his inn.
“Of course I want to stop Napoleon, though mostly for the sake of our dragons. Otherwise, let him overrun England; he will be no worse an overlord in Gwynedd than the British. And I cannot hand a weapon like the King’s Bond to a country that has mistreated my own for centuries.
I wish I had never told you that the Bond needs awakening! ”
That hurt. She already knew he regretted telling her about his Bond, even though she had kept her word scrupulously. It was driving her mad, though.
Jack’s life and England’s future depended on Roderick, and he simply did not care.
Her helplessness made her lash out. “At least once Napoleon sends me to the guillotine, you can console yourself by marrying a Welsh girl in good conscience, just as you always planned.”
He closed his eyes, clearly trying to control his own temper. “This is not about you and me. Quickthorn will carry you off if you are in any danger.”
“Because there is nothing I would like better than to live out my life scrubbing floors in a Nest in Norway!” she snapped.
Roderick tried to take her hands, but she pulled them away. “Frederica, nothing has changed. We knew from the very beginning that we had no future.”
It was true, but at the same time, she could not accept it.
Not now, after this second chance with Roderick had only deepened her love, even when he was difficult and stubborn.
Surely there had to be some way out of this, something that would allow them to be together.
Because they were stronger together than apart.
Something that would make Gwynedd safe from England, but also gave Jack the King’s Bond.
An alliance like that could truly have a chance against Napoleon.
A treaty would not do; England had broken far too many treaties with Wales already.
It had to be something different, and she would not rest until she found it.
“You may have accepted that,” she said fiercely, “but I have not.”
She walked over to the grimy window and stared out into the busy London street.
It looked no different than any ordinary day, people going about their business, carts and carriages jostling for space.
No one seemed particularly afraid of the imminent invasion.
Perhaps they did not know about it, since the government had kept the papers from printing stories about it, or perhaps they thought it would make little difference to their everyday lives.
Like Roderick, they might care little who created the laws.
But she knew who did care, and deeply. The question was how desperate they were to keep their position, and whether she could play her cards right.
A wicked smile bloomed on her face as the idea took form in her head.
It might not work, perhaps it could never work, but she had nothing to lose by trying.
It was too early to take the first step in her plan, so Frederica hunted down Jack instead, finally running him to earth at Darcy House. The butler showed her into the study, where her cousin sat on the window seat.
He looked up at her entrance. “You found me, I see.”
“After trying your inn and then going all the way out to Windsor, all to find out how you are doing,” she said tartly.
It would have been more accurate to say Roderick had sent her.
For someone who was refusing to do anything to help with Jack’s Bond, Roderick seemed to have an unnatural interest in it.
He grimaced. “Better than I was. At least I can be in London without feeling ill or in pain, but still all wrong.”
“What do you mean?
Jack looked away. “It feels like my skin no longer fits me. I cannot get comfortable, even when I sleep. It is like there are voices in my head, always talking, but I cannot make out what they are saying. The churchyard is like a siren song, always calling me.”
“Does anything help?”
“When I stand on iron, which is not a practical way to live. And the land does not like it.”
Poor Jack. This was so unlike the happy-go-lucky, bold adventurer he once had been.
“Roderick has written to his father for advice, but any response will take at least a week.” And that only because Frederica had paid for the express rider out of her own funds.
Roderick was too frugal for it, always conscious of how every shilling could help his impoverished people. Impoverished by English taxes.
Jack shrugged. “I did not want this bond in the first place, so what does it matter whether anyone can awaken it in me? I will keep trying to learn what I can do for a little longer, because the king has requested it, but after that I intend to leave.”
“Where would you go?”
He grimaced. “As far as it takes to get away from this feeling.”
The butler appeared in the doorway. “Colonel Fitzwilliam to see Mr. Jack Darcy. Are you at home, sir?”
Jack's visage brightened. “For Richard? Of course!”
“A good thing, too,” Richard exclaimed as he elbowed his way past the butler instead of waiting in the hall as callers usually did. “Sorry to say I am here on business today. I’ve been assigned to be your liaison, because they consider you the weapon that can change the course of the war.”
The brief good humor that had lightened Jack faded away to nothing. “I am unlikely to change anything apart from how thickly the grass grows at Windsor,” he grumbled. “I may be the world's biggest cannon, but I am useless without cannonballs and powder. And no one knows how to make them.”
Richard's expression turned to dismay. “But you have a dragon.”
“He refuses to kill, for good reason, and I have promised him I will not, either. Even though Gentiane desperately wants revenge against Napoleon for destroying his Nest.”
“Does that mean he might be willing to work with us? With the Army, that is? Could he cast illusions for us? Help us set traps or build defenses?” Richard asked.
Frederica added, “Richard spent a great deal of time talking to our Pemberley dragons about their abilities while Darcy was in France. None of them were willing to defend any land outside their own, though.”
“Short-sighted,” Richard grumbled. “Soon enough Boney will be there. We have a better chance of stopping him if we do it now.”
“Is there any realistic chance?” Frederica asked. Richard's military opinion was worth much more than most.
Richard snorted. “Anything is possible, no matter how unlikely. Hence my being sent to enlist you in our efforts, even if there is nothing you can do.”
“He can create holes at a distance,” Frederica said loyally. “Ones deep enough to knock down charging men.”
“Is this true?” Richard demanded of Jack.
Jack scowled. “If you do not care about precision.”
“We can work with that,” Richard said. Heavens, he must be desperate!
“The problem is that he could do so much more, if only we had some way to activate the King's Bond,” Frederica explained. “We have everyone hunting for answers on that.” Everyone except Roderick, who had all the answers yet refused to do anything about it, even to speak with Jack.
Perhaps she might be able to give Roderick a little extra motivation, though.
He did not want to see her in danger. “Richard, my weather powers are much stronger than they used to be, thanks to my dragon bond. Could you use me at the landing site? I can create whirlwinds, big enough to knock men over - a few of them, at least. And I can create wind to push boats away.” Roderick would not like her being in battle, not one little bit. She smirked to herself.
“Freddie, we may be desperate, but we are not putting young ladies on the front lines.”
“Richard, I am not a young lady anymore. I am a dragon companion and a Truth-caster, and you need to remember that.”
Her brother rubbed his hand over the bridge of his nose. “I suppose we have nothing to lose.” It was a remarkable concession. And he would not have made it so easily if he were not truly worried.
“Good. Do let me know when I can be useful. In the meantime, I will leave you gentlemen to talk about the war.”
She had another engagement she wanted to keep, this one with the man she usually avoided beyond all others - her father. What better ally in her scheme than an inveterate schemer?