Chapter 15 #2
Lady Anne paled, but she raised her chin, her face contorted in an odd grimace. In a low, bitter voice, sharp enough to cut ice, she said, “My sister Catherine, of course.”
Her words sent a chill down Darcy’s neck.
It was obvious, once she had said it. Who could it have been other than Lady Catherine de Bourgh, the former King’s Mage who had misused her Talent to influence minds, which no other mage could do?
Who had been a dragon companion herself, before she stole her dragon’s Talents and broke the bond.
Quickthorn straightened to her full height, her crests brushing the high ceiling. “A mortal did that? Impossible!”
“It is true, whatever you may think,” said Lady Anne coolly, her usual distant composure back.
“I know it is true, since you cannot lie to me,” Quickthorn sputtered. “But no mortal has ever had that ability.”
Darcy found the words that had deserted him. “Did Lady Catherine put bindings on you often?”
His mother smoothed her hair back from her cheeks, as if trying to disguise the color rising in them. “Frequently,” she said in a quiet, hopeless voice. “I do not understand why I can even say this much. Did your dragon do something to me?”
“My dragon, actually,” Frederica said. “And yes, she removed some of the bindings – which she says were very badly done.”
His mother stiffened, shifting away from Frederica, her face suddenly ashen. “You are a dragon companion now?” Her voice shook.
Before she could reply, Quickthorn let out a fiery snort. “Do you mean Lady Catherine Fitzwilliam, may her name be cursed in eternity?”
“We call her Lady Catherine de Bourgh now, but yes.” How could his mother maintain complete composure with a huge dragon who was breathing fire, yet be frightened by the news that her own apprentice was a companion?
Darcy stamped out a spark that had fallen to the carpet. It made horrible, sickening sense that Lady Catherine had been somehow involved in this. His stomach churned at the idea of his mother suffering under bindings all these years. How had it affected her?
“That would explain it,” snarled Quickthorn, scraping at the floor with one of her back legs as if remaining still was impossible. “She tore that ability from the mind of her dragon and made it her own, monster that she is.”
Either his mother was an even finer actress than he thought, or it was not news to her that her sister was a dragon companion. Lady Anne’s next words put that question to rest. “What happened to Hornbeam?”
Quickthorn said, “He still lives among us at the Nest, though she damaged him badly. His mind is not the same.”
Lady Anne seemed to shrink a little. “Poor Hornbeam! He was always so kind to me. He did not deserve such a fate.”
“No, he did not.” But her words seemed to settle Quickthorn, for the anger in her aura faded. “Did you know him well?”
“More when I was young. He was my mother's dragon, of course, until she died in childbed, and I loved him. By the time he bonded with Catherine, he was...different. Harder,” Lady Anne said. “But he was still good to me.”
And Darcy had thought he was beyond being shocked.
His grandmother, who had died long before he was born, had been a dragon companion, too?
The dragons in France had said that his brother Jack must be a near descendant of a dragon companion since he could survive dragonfire; this must be the explanation.
Quickthorn said, “Hornbeam's first companion's death changed him. He missed her terribly, and he was bitter that he would never have the chance to see more of the world. That is why he insisted on bonding to your sister, even though he knew it was not a good match. He saw her as the closest he could get to having your mother back.” Her voice was disapproving.
“The Eldest suggested delaying until you or your brother were of age, but he felt he had waited long enough.”
His mother opened her mouth, choked a little, and closed it again. Had she run across another binding? Finally she managed to say, “You say you removed a few of the bindings. Can anything be done about the others?”
Quickthorn clicked her talons together. “If they had been properly applied in the first place, I could do so, but I would prefer to leave it to a dragon with greater experience in these matters. I would not want to do any damage accidentally.”
Finally his mother showed some feeling, and it was disgust. “I would rather take the risk than have these things controlling me.”
“I understand, but with a little time, we can do it safely. I will not risk harming you when there is a better option, but I will find a dragon who can help you. Coquelicot, perhaps.”
A scratching noise came from the wall behind Darcy.
Were there mice in the house? Bad enough that there were dragons everywhere, and now this.
He would have to speak to the housekeeper.
But then the noise grew louder, and he turned to look.
There was something just outside the diamond-paned window, something small, furry, and black.
Lady Anne gasped, and then she was on her feet, running to the window. Actually running, his oh-so-proper mother! She wrenched open the window, and a fluffy black cat jumped into her arms.
“Oh, Shadow!” she said in a broken voice. “I thought she had killed you!” She buried her face in the cat’s fur, her shoulders shaking.
Shadow. His mother’s familiar, who had followed her everywhere when he was a child. Darcy had not seen him – nor heard him mentioned – since long before his mother’s journey to Faerie.
Frederica tapped his arm. “She will not thank us for witnessing this,” she whispered, tipping her head towards the door.
He nodded and followed her, painfully aware that his mother was showing more affection to Shadow than she ever had to her own children.
Once he closed the door behind them, Elizabeth said, “What was that about?”
“He is her familiar, who has been missing for many years,” Darcy said.
Frederica asked, “Do you suppose one of those bindings somehow blocked the familiar bond?”
“It must have,” Elizabeth said slowly. “What do you suppose is under all those bindings?”
“That is the question,” Darcy said darkly. “We must do something about that ring, the one with the spell on it.”
“No need,” Elizabeth said. “Cerridwen has already destroyed it.”
Elizabeth looked up from her seat on a lawn blanket to see Lady Anne Darcy standing by the edge of the canopy that shaded her and little Jenny from the sun. It was still a bit chilly to be outside, but she wanted to take advantage of the rare good weather.
“May I join you?” Lady Anne asked.
“I would be honored,” Elizabeth said politely.
What did it mean that her mother-in-law was seeking her out, after keeping to herself for the better part of two days?
It had been time wasted, since Elizabeth had halted her practice sessions with Cerridwen, lest her mother-in-law ask uncomfortable questions.
“Would you like me to request a chair for you?” Lady Anne did not seem like the sort to sit on even the finest ground covering.
Apparently she was wrong, for Lady Anne lowered herself gracefully across from Elizabeth. “This is perfectly comfortable. I am much younger than you think, you know, owing to my ill-fated stay in Faerie. I might have been born forty-seven years ago, but my body is twelve years younger than that.”
Elizabeth calculated in her head. “It must be disconcerting to find yourself only a handful of years older than your son.”
“No more so than to leave behind a young boy one day, and on the morrow find he is a grown man.” Her gaze dropped to Jenny, resting in Elizabeth’s arm. “Times have changed. I was told to keep an infant in the nursery for the first months.”
“I doubt times have changed that much. Jenny is an exception,” she said equably, determined not to listen to any implied criticisms from Lady Anne, whose mothering was not a model she cared to follow.
“She benefits from being close to the land. Afterwards, she eats better.” Best not to mention that this advice had come from Darcy’s illegitimate half-sister.
“She seems to be doing very well for her size.” Was that a peace offering?
Hard to say. Elizabeth’s instinct was not to trust her, but perhaps that was unfair.
There was no guessing how much the bindings had affected Lady Anne’s past choices, but she would still have to prove herself – if she had indeed changed.
“I will sleep easier when she has gained a little more weight.”
Jenny did finally seem to be thriving, although it took extra help. Both she and Darcy trickled some energy into her every day, and Coquelicot did something mysterious which helped her breathing. But she was still barely the size of most newborns, with that near-translucent skin.
She loved her more than she could say, from the fuzz atop her little head to her tiny fingernails. Holding her close like this felt like the most precious gift in the world.
“I did not spend time with my babies.” Lady Anne sounded almost indifferent. “It would have been too dangerous.”
Had she misheard? Certainly some aristocratic women were happy to hand their infants over to a wetnurse until they were old enough to be interesting, but she had never heard anyone claim it was for their safety.
But there was a great deal about Lady Anne she did not understand, not least her connection to the High King of Faerie.
“Pray forgive my ignorance, but I do not understand what the risk would be.”
Lady Anne looked away, as if she were studying the horizon. “My sister was a jealous woman, especially when it came to my affection. She could not tolerate the idea that I might love anyone else. I learned when I was fifteen that it was safest if I kept everyone at a distance.”
Was she deliberately being inscrutable, or was she trying to speak around a binding? Elizabeth decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. “What happened when you were fifteen?”
A sad smile flitted across her face. “A great many things, of course. My brother came home from school. Like me, he had adored Catherine when he was in the nursery, but he had changed while he was away and had no time for a bossy older sister. He was still my favorite, though, so I spent every minute I could with him. Until he suddenly died.”
Elizabeth’s mouth went dry. “What happened to him?”
“They found him in his bed one morning, lifeless, after being perfectly well the night before. No one could explain it. Catherine said it was my fault, that if I had not listened to him so much, he would have lived. She had killed animals before, my pet spaniel and a kitten I had taken a liking to. No one would ever believe me when I tried to tell them.”
“You thought she would harm your children?” A chill went through her, and she clutched Jenny closer. This was beyond belief, no matter how evil everyone said Lady Catherine could be. How could Hornbeam have accepted her as a companion, if this was true? Surely Lady Anne must be mistaken.
“I did not doubt it, especially when I had the son she wanted.” Lady Anne kept her eyes on Jenny, avoiding Elizabeth’s gaze.
Elizabeth’s skin crawled. She hardly knew whether to give any credit to the story. Engaging on the subject further felt dangerous. Instead, she changed the subject. “I was surprised to hear you were no longer the King’s Mage,” she said.
“No more than I,” Lady Anne replied. “I intended to serve as long as I could, but those fools in the government needed someone to shoulder the blame for my son’s mission, and they decided I was the most expendable.
A fine reward for our family’s loyalty, to throw us to the dogs.
” Her lip curled. “Their story is that the assassination attempt was my plan, and they knew nothing about it. They hope it will be enough to placate Napoleon – as if anything could do that.”
“I cannot imagine it would stop him.”
“Nothing will do that. We have gained a little time, thanks to the Tyrolean rebellion. He must put that down before he comes here, but he will be here by summer, if not sooner. His invasion barges are already being built. Our Navy will be helpless to stop them, thanks to the sea serpents sinking our ships, and most of the Army is stuck in the Peninsula for the same reason.” Lady Anne sounded almost indifferent.
A shiver went down Elizabeth’s spine. No one would be safe when that happened, but Darcy would be in the gravest danger of all.
For now, all she could do was to continue her training, and pray it would be enough to keep Jenny safe against a mad dragon leading the French army.
If not, they would have to flee to Wales, where the dragon defenses were better established.
Or would Darcy insist on sending her there with Jenny, while he remained at Pemberley?
The tiny infant slept so peacefully in her arms. Here they were, sitting on the beautifully manicured lawn of Pemberley, with servants to provide any service she might desire and enough wealth to purchase anything she dreamed of.
But it was all as fragile as a thin glass bauble, ready to be shattered by the upcoming invasion.
Today she was a wealthy, pampered lady; next year she might well be running for her life, hoping desperately to find enough food to keep Jenny alive.
And she could do nothing to stop it apart from pursuing her dangerous Forbidden Talent.
A lump formed in her throat. After all they had done, risking their lives in France, trying to make Pemberley as safe as possible, it was not enough. Unless she could learn to open a Gate, it was likely to be the end of her life at Pemberley.
She pushed the thoughts away. “I hope you are finding the Dower House comfortable.”
“I was pleased to see it has been so well-maintained. It is hard to believe how many years it has been since I last stayed there. I never expected to make it my home.” A trace of disbelief entered her voice. “Though I intend to return to London briefly in a few days.”
“Already? It is a long journey.”
Lady Anne gazed out over the lake. “I would prefer to avoid it, but there is business I must attend to, now that the bindings are gone. People I must make amends to, and explanations to make. It is not pleasant to look back on some of the decisions I made under them”
Elizabeth shivered. “It was terribly cruel, what your sister did to you.”
Lady Anne’s mask wavered for a moment before returning to her usual apparent indifference. “Regrets will change nothing. I have always favored looking forward instead, and I intend to do just that.”