Chapter 15
Frederica picked up her head at the sound of the bell from the gatehouse, the one Darcy had ordered installed to prevent the long delays when word had to be sent about a new visitor.
Three peals, which meant it was urgent. And she was the only one here – Elizabeth was at the far end of the estate, training with Cerridwen, and Darcy off somewhere with his steward.
It was up to her. With a sigh, she headed for the door.
The butler was already holding her bonnet and gloves. “They are saddling a horse for your ladyship.”
She glanced down at her dress, which was a far cry from a riding habit. “I can walk quickly enough.”
“Mr. Darcy’s orders, your ladyship, for three peals.”
Well, that settled it, then. Hobbes would never break a rule set by Darcy. She tied her bonnet under her chin and stepped out onto the portico to wait for her mount.
It was a pleasant ride, if brief. Spring was not far off; the first snowdrops were starting to peek through the ground. Frederica shaded her eyes against the afternoon sun as she approached the gate, trying to catch a glimpse of the visitor.
Surely she must be mistaken. The carriage beyond the wards was one she knew well, that she had ridden in many times during her London days. But why on earth had anyone needed advice on whether to admit Lady Anne Darcy?
She dismounted outside the gatehouse where the gatekeeper rubbed his gnarled hands together nervously. “What is the matter, Thompson?” she asked. “Lady Anne has every right to enter Pemberley.”
“I know,” he said unhappily. “But she can’t. The wards won’t let her in. When she tries to cross them, she gets knocked backwards.”
“I beg your pardon?” she exclaimed.
He lifted his hands helplessly. “All the others - the coachman, the footman, and the lady’s maid – can go past them, but not her ladyship. What should I do?”
This was shocking news – and disturbing. She frowned. Could this be another fae trick, with a High Fae disguising himself as Lady Anne Darcy? If only she knew more about how the wards worked!
Approaching the boundary of the wards, she studied the carriage. Yes, that was John Coachman, nodding to her in recognition, and the woman who stepped out of the carriage certainly looked like Lady Anne.
“Lady Frederica, thank you for coming,” the King’s Mage said briskly. “Perhaps you can help with this foolish problem.”
Oh, yes, that sounded like Lady Anne, and she had recognized Frederica. Could a High Fae do those things? Well, there was no help for it. “I am sorry for the difficulty. The wards stop the High Fae, so I must beg your patience while I try to determine if it is really you.”
Lady Anne tapped her foot. “If you must. Be quick about it, I pray you. It has been a long journey.”
What would only Lady Anne know? “Once, you made me practice my weakest skill until I almost exhausted my life force. What was that skill, and where was I practicing it?”
“Sending, and you were in the breakfast room at Darcy House,” she said with a hint of impatience. “What is all this nonsense about wards? No one has used wards for centuries!”
Apparently this truly was Lady Anne. What now? Fortunately, Frederica’s ability to send was much better since becoming a companion, and she reached out to Quickthorn. The wards are refusing to admit Darcy’s mother. What should I do?
That is most odd. I will come, her dragon replied.
Thank goodness for that! “Yes, wards are unusual these days, are they not?” she said to Lady Anne in a bright social tone designed to disarm her before breaking the shocking news.
“I do not understand them myself. Darcy had some help creating them from the dragons. One of them will be joining us shortly to see what the difficulty is.” She was not going to reveal her new companion status, not when the wards disapproved of Lady Anne.
Nor that it had been Elizabeth, not Darcy, who had been part of the creation of the barrier.
“A dragon?” Lady Anne evinced an air of well-bred surprise. “My son neglected to mention that to me, too.”
And that was only the beginning of the secrets they had been keeping from the King’s Mage!
Darcy and Elizabeth had hoped to break the news of the dragons to Lady Anne more gradually, but clearly that would be impossible.
“Odd, but he has been very preoccupied since his return from France. Look, here comes the dragon!” She pointed towards the giant winged creature flying towards them.
It was still a surprise to see Quickthorn in the air in her true form, but there was no longer any need for the dragons to disguise themselves at Pemberley.
She smiled involuntarily as she gazed up at her beautiful sea-green dragon.
How elegant she was in flight, as she circled before coming in for a smooth landing beside Frederica!
Smooth for Quickthorn, at least; Frederica’s skirts and bonnet strings flapped wildly in the wind from the dragon’s extended wings.
Frederica did a quick sending of what had transpired so far, and then said aloud, “Lady Anne, may I present the Honored Quickthorn to your acquaintance? Quickthorn, this is Lady Anne Darcy, the King’s Mage and Mr. Darcy’s mother.”
What silly introduction rules you have. You already told me who she is, Quickthorn grumbled.
Lady Anne curtsied. “I am pleased to meet you, Honored Quickthorn.” At least she had kept her composure at the sight of the dragon. Then again, she must have seen Sycamore in London, so it should not be a complete shock.
Quickthorn, of course, had no patience for niceties.
“You seem human enough.” She walked across the wards straight up to Lady Anne, who held her ground admirably.
“Hmm, but there is something…” Then the dragon recoiled, as if at some horrible smell, and backed away.
“What is that thing, there on your left hand?”
It took a great deal to discompose Quickthorn, but her horror was apparent in her aura. Horror – and fear.
Lady Anne looked confused. “My glove?” She peeled it off to expose a delicate but otherwise normal hand.
“No. That ring, the plain one.” Quickthorn pointed a razor-sharp talon at it, still keeping her distance.
“It has a spell on it. One with the mark of the Wicked King, may all the agony he has caused be returned to him threefold.” And then she hastened backwards until she was safely behind the wards.
“This? Are you certain?” Lady Anne stared at her fingers in horror.
“I do not know what the spell does, but it is there, and of his making.”
In a single motion, Lady Anne ripped off her wedding band and dropped it to the ground. “Is it gone now?” Her voice was high-pitched.
“If it is, the wards will let you cross.”
Frederica held her breath as Lady Anne moved forward, her steps tentative. She hesitated just before the gate, and then she squared her shoulders and strode through.
The ring remained in the dusty road.
“I must check that none of the taint remains on you.” Quickthorn reached out her foreleg to touch Lady Anne’s finger, the skin where her wedding ring had lain indented and paler than the rest. The dragon’s gold-ringed eyes seemed to blur as the membrane came over them.
“It seems to be gone, but….” Her aura changed abruptly from her usual irritability to sudden horror. “Who did that to you?”
Lady Anne opened her mouth to speak, but she was overtaken by a choking fit. Her knees crumpled beneath her, and her head rolled back.
Only Quickthorn’s quick movements kept her from hitting the ground.
Darcy had raced back to Pemberley when he heard the news, and his heart was still pounding as he strode into the sitting room. His mother lay unconscious on the settee, her chest moving raggedly. He had never seen her look so frail.
It was true, then, what the servant had told him, that Lady Anne had collapsed. “What happened?” Darcy demanded. And why did he suddenly care?
Frederica said, “Nothing. Quickthorn discovered that your mother is under many bindings, and when she asked her about them, your mother swooned.”
He took a step back, his breath still coming quickly from his haste. “Bindings? From the High King?” How had she been so foolish as to deal with the fae? But that was a question he had asked himself hundreds of times.
Quickthorn snorted. “Hardly. If they were the work of the Wicked King, may his liver rot and putrefy, they would be subtle and well made. These are very badly done, all tangled together. Whatever dragon did this should be exiled. I am surprised she can even speak coherently under them.”
“You think it was a dragon?” It sounded unlikely. If his mother had known a dragon, she would have told him about it.
Unless the bindings had stopped her. It was a terrifying thought.
“They have that flavor, but a High Fae could have done it, too. Now pray be quiet. With your permission, I will remove a few of them and see what happens.”
At Darcy’s nod, the sea-green dragon rested her talons gently against Lady Anne’s cheeks, and the weight of magic swirled around the room, prickling at his skin.
His mother stirred, her hand twitching. Quickthorn released her hold and moved back.
Then Lady Anne’s eyes fluttered open. Her gaze darted from side to side, as if she were frightened. His mother never showed fear.
“What happened?” Her voice was high-pitched. Then she spotted him. “Fitzwilliam, what is going on?”
He took a cautious step forward. “Welcome, Mother. You fainted by the gatehouse, and they brought you here.”
She visibly collected herself. “I am sorry to have caused such trouble.” She sat up and carefully swung her legs off the settee. Of course she would hate to look like an invalid.
“As long as you are well, I am happy,” he said mechanically. Turning to Quickthorn, he asked, “What now?”
I will try asking her the same question that caused her to swoon. Then Quickthorn said aloud, “You have bindings in your mind. Who did this to you?”