Chapter 12 #2
The dragon stared disdainfully down at Cattermole. “This man wants to arrest my Little One and give him to the Evil Emperor. I am trying to explain to him why he cannot, but he appears to lack common sense.”
Elizabeth turned wide eyes on Darcy. “Surely this cannot be true,” she whispered.
“It is true.” He struggled to modulate his voice. “The War Office is under the gravely mistaken impression that it will placate Napoleon.”
Coquelicot shook her head sadly. “Indeed you are a fool, Cattermole of the British government. There is no reasoning with a mad dragon like Napoleon.”
Her words gave Darcy a second wind. “They do not believe he is a dragon. But perhaps now, Cattermole, you will acknowledge that I am a better judge of what a dragon is than you.”
As if to prove his point, two falcons flew in the open doors from the ballroom balcony and transformed into Cerridwen and Quickthorn. Coquelicot truly had called out the cavalry. His skin tingled as sendings flew back and forth between the dragons.
Now Cattermole was pale and shaking, his mouth gaping like a fish. He tried to pull away again, but Darcy only tightened his grip.
“Oh, no. You started this; now you can face the consequences,” Darcy bit out.
“I will not offer to introduce you to my wife, but perhaps you would be interested to know that she is companion to Cerridwen the Seer. And that green dragon is Quickthorn the Truth-Caster, who also resides at Pemberley. Tell me, do you still think you have any ability to force me to do anything?” He could barely believe the words coming out of his own mouth – but he could never have conceived of the War Office wanting to turn him over to the French.
Or that he would ever find himself siding with the dragons against his own government, the one he had risked his life for.
“Let me go, I beg you,” Cattermole said brokenly.
More running footsteps, and then Frederica skidded into the room. “What in heaven’s name is going on?”
Tell her, Coquelicot sent.
In a clipped voice, Darcy recounted his conversation with Cattermole.
Jasper’s soft voice came from behind Frederica.
“I never thought to see our government sink so low. Darcy, I hate to see you dirty your hands on such a swine. He will not try to flee while I am here.” He made the slightest of bows to Cattermole.
“Jasper Fitzwilliam, most definitely not at your service, and I can put a dagger through your heart before you get out the door.”
For some reason, Jasper’s clear fury over Cattermole’s breach of honorable behavior calmed Darcy.
“No bloodshed, I pray you. There are ladies present.” Cattermole might deserve it, but it would upset the dragons, too.
Darcy released Cattermole’s arm – he hoped he had left bruises!
– and ostentatiously cleaned his hand with his handkerchief.
Sometimes the trappings of honor were useful.
Quickthorn said, “Frederica tells me that if this man arrests you, he could also take Pemberley away. Is that true, Darcy?”
“Unfortunately, yes. The government would most likely confiscate the estate, or at best give it to a distant Darcy cousin.” All because he had tried to serve his country. His stomach churned.
“In that case, this matter affects the Nest as well, and I must question him myself.” The sea-green dragon stepped closer to Cattermole. “Companion Frederica will assist me.”
“Good,” Darcy said, not without vindictiveness. “He may have useful information about Napoleon’s plans, too.”
Cattermole shot him a horrified look. “Darcy, those are state secrets! Take me away from here.”
“I owe you and this government nothing,” he snapped. “Pray proceed, Honorable Quickthorn.”
“No!” cried Cattermole. “You cannot force me to speak!”
Jasper pulled a small stiletto from his boot and flipped it into the air, catching the handle between two fingertips. “I strongly urge you to answer any questions my sister asks you.” He sounded bored.
Coquelicot spoke in his mind. Little One, it would be best if you left us for now. Your anger, while justifiable, will make it difficult for the truth-casters to work. We will not let Cattermole of the British government escape.
It took him aback at first, being dismissed like a rebellious schoolboy, but it was also a relief.
He wanted to be alone, ached with the need.
And his rage, so prone to breaking out since his journey to France, was not his friend.
He nodded abruptly. “Jasper, I am counting on you to watch him,” he said as he stepped out the door.
“It will be my very great pleasure,” his cousin said.
Now Elizabeth’s voice sounded inside him, full of concern. Shall I come with you?
No. I need to be alone. And Elizabeth could keep an eye on whatever was happening with Cattermole.
She sent him a silent surge of love and understanding, which was almost enough to make his breathing go back to normal.
He strode towards the front hall, needing to be out on the land, to feel its power in his veins. He ignored the servants in his way, brushing away the hat and coat the butler offered him. The cold air might soothe his temper.
As soon as he stepped down from the portico, Pemberley was there, sending its energy into him. No matter what else might go wrong, the land would always be there for him.
But was he truly going to do this? Refuse to submit to the authority of the government, to be in open rebellion?
It was inconceivable, but so was what the War Office had done to him. It would change everything, destroy any social standing he might have, and even make him a fugitive. Like he had been in France – something he had thought never to do again. It could be the end to the life he had always known.
And rebellion could not work forever – but all indications were that England would fall to Napoleon within months. He shivered, and not just because of the chilly breeze.
Were he the only one involved, he might do it – let them take him away or flee on his own. But it was not just him. Elizabeth and Jenny would lose their home, and the dragons needed their outpost here. His tenants would suffer for the lack of his landed Talent to increase the yields.
And he would never see Elizabeth again, never feel her soothing presence, be amused by her ready wit, or touch her silken skin.
But he could not make a choice which could affect the entire world based on his desire to be with his wife.
The real question was obvious: what option would do the most to stop Napoleon?
The mad dragon, the one who had briefly taken control of his mind, who could destroy the entire country.
The government had given up on stopping the invasion.
Now it was up to the British dragons, who at least were still trying.
Darcy nodded slowly, though there was no one to see him. Yes. The dragons were the only resistance left against Napoleon. Elizabeth was already firmly on their side. He would do whatever he could to help them - and hang the government.