Chapter 23 #2
Frederica presented her card to the butler at Carlton House, dressed in the stylish finery she had collected from her father's house, and with two uniformed footmen standing behind her.
Darcy and Jack, to be precise. Roderick had volunteered, but he was not tall enough to fit into the Matlock livery.
Her father prided himself on the height of his footmen.
Roderick was standing on the back of the carriage in the groom's uniform.
Not that they would be coming in with her. This was just to get them in place near Carlton House.
“Pray come in, Lady Frederica,” the butler said. “I will see if Lady Catherine is at home.”
She gave him her most winning smile. “How kind of you.” Now all she had to do was to avoid being blinded by the gilt surrounding her. Prinny was a great believer in excess when it came to decoration, and it always gave her a headache.
She rubbed her hands together as she took a seat in the anteroom the butler had indicated.
Two perfectly matched footmen stood on each side of the door, their eyes straight ahead, as if she did not exist. It was a struggle to look relaxed, not out of fear, but because she was excited.
This would be the performance of her life, and she was looking forward to it.
The butler returned surprisingly promptly, though his expression was strained.
“Lady Catherine will see you in the Rose Satin Drawing Room. This way, your ladyship.” He led her along the familiar path to the state apartments, between the towering Ionic columns of the magnificent entrance hall, into the richly ornamented Octagon Room, and then to the First Antechamber beyond.
Good heavens, had Prinny redecorated it yet again?
It had been a startling teal blue when she was last here, only half a year ago, and all the artwork and statuary were new.
No wonder he was always begging Parliament for more money.
But she had no time to examine it, as the butler threw open the door to the Rose Satin Drawing Room, with its huge swag curtains of rose damask covering the walls and an enormous crystal chandelier which always looked as if it would come crashing down at any moment.
The spectacle was so overwhelmingly opulent that Frederica almost missed the woman sitting in one of the gilded red chairs.
Surely this demure, kindly-looking lady could not be the wicked Lady Catherine de Bourgh, mistress to the Prince of Wales and former dragon companion! She could easily pass for a housekeeper, were it not for the quality of her attire. No face paint, no jewelry, just a simple, well-cut silk dress.
And the Fitzwilliam cheekbones. It was definitely her. A prickle went up Frederica’s spine. This was the most powerful, ambitious, and dangerous mage in all Britain.
Lady Catherine rose to her feet with an expression of sheer delight. “Is that indeed you, my dearest niece? After all these years! You were still in the nursery the last time we met. How very kind of you to call on me!” One might have thought this meeting was her fondest dream.
Frederica hastily recalculated her approach. Why had no one warned her that Lady Catherine hid her villainy under a cloak of warmth? She must have learned early that it was to her advantage to be underestimated by everyone.
“Thank you for agreeing to see me, my dear aunt!” she exclaimed. “I was so pleased to hear you were taking on the mantle of the King's Mage again.”
Lady Catherine blinked her eyes mistily. “I do not know if my modest Talent is up to the position any more, but there was no one else, you know. I could not refuse in our country's time of need. Do sit down, my dear. How lovely you have grown to be!”
“You are too kind! And there is no call to be modest about your Talent; everyone says you are the strongest mage of your generation. I am in awe simply to be in your presence!”
She sighed. “True, I have a few small abilities, but my Talent is not what it once was. Tell me, my dear, what brings you here today? I cannot imagine your father is behind it.”
Frederica decided to take a risk. “Oh, not at all! He has other plans for me, all of which involve marrying me off to a horrid man. You are my last hope, in fact.” She made a calculated pause. “I do not suppose you are considering taking on an apprentice?” she asked hesitantly.
Lady Catherine touched her hand to her chest as if surprised by this question. “Why, I have only been in this position a few weeks! I have not even begun to think of it.”
Frederica did not believe that for a moment.
She leaned forward, as if making a confidence, and said, “I was your sister's apprentice for four years, though at the end she sent me off to teach her new daughter-in-law at Pemberley.” She let scorn enter her voice as she spoke of Elizabeth.
“Not that she really cared about her, but she wanted me out of London while she trained the younger Bennet chits.”
“Ah, yes, the Bennet girls.” Lady Catherine put on what might have been a convincing show of concern, if Frederica had not known what she was capable of.
“I have met them. Sweet girls, and Miss Mary Bennet has a decent amount of Talent, but oh! So little experience. It is not her fault that she began her training so late, but it is hard to see how she could manage the work.”
“I started training as soon as my Talent emerged. But you would know that, of course. It must have been the same for you, given how powerful you became.” She let some admiration slip into her expression.
It was hard to tell, but Lady Catherine might have been pleased. “Why would you wish to be my apprentice?”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, so that I will not have to marry Mortimer Percy. I do not see why having Talent means I should have to marry against my every inclination! But that is another story. I also want to learn more. Lady Anne never taught me as much as she could; I think she was afraid I might be too ambitious.” That was a flat-out lie, but Lady Catherine could not know that.
“Ambitious, my dear?” Lady Catherine still spoke gently, but there was something more steely in her tone. “What are your ambitions?”
“I suppose they are not ambitions per se. I am perfectly satisfied with my condition in life, but I do not like it that everyone gives us orders – we, the lady mages - and we are expected to obey. Even when we know it is a bad idea! If our Talent is so valuable, why do men - and even men without a trace of Talent - constantly ignore what we say and what we want? We are expected to spend our entire lives training to protect the royal family. I do not resent that; I am as loyal an Englishwoman as any! But I think they should listen to us rather than forcing us into unpleasant marriages.” Frederica let herself babble freely.
Hopefully it would make Lady Catherine underestimate her.
Lady Catherine's previously benevolent gaze sharpened. “An interesting thought. What does your family think of it?”
Frederica laughed. “As little as they can! My father disapproves heartily. Lady Anne always frowns and lectures me about duty. Well, I do my duty, but I want a little recognition for it. Is that so much to ask?”
“Ah, yes, my sister always felt strongly about duty coming first. But there may be something to what you are saying, my dear.” Which was rich, coming from someone who had used her Talent ruthlessly to gain power. “Tell me about your Talent. What are your strengths and weaknesses?”
Oh, yes, Lady Catherine would want to know every weakness of other mages!
“Weather magic is my strongest point. I had to work hard at sendings, but I can manage them well enough now. My illusions are middling at best. But with wind, I can create— actually, would you do me the honor of permitting me to demonstrate? I have been longing to show a truly Talented mage what I have learned. Lady Anne was dismissive of my early attempts, but I think it could prove very useful.”
“Here?” Lady Catherine sounded surprised.
“Not in this beautiful room, of course. But there is a private garden here, is there not? We could just step out on the terrace and I could show you. I would be so grateful to hear your thoughts, even if you do not wish to take an apprentice.” She put on her best excited, pleading look.
Lady Catherine studied her. “I suppose it could do no harm, and I would like to see what you are capable of.”
And then Frederica felt the hair on the nape of her neck rising, along with a sudden sharp headache stabbing behind her eye. What was this? She had never suffered from megrims, and this felt wrong.
It was wrong. Lady Catherine was trying to put a binding on her, and it was coming up against the protection Quickthorn had put in place.
Frederica blinked hard in a vain effort to push the pain away.
All she had to do was to get Lady Catherine outside, and the dragons would take it from there.
“Oh, that would mean so much to me, your ladyship!”
Her headache faded as suddenly as it had begun, but it still seemed to be affecting her vision.
Lady Catherine looked different now, her features sharper and anything but motherly.
Her simple dress was now embroidered and covered with lace, and a heavy diamond necklace replaced the simple cross which had been there before.
It had all been an illusion. This was the real Lady Catherine, who believed Frederica was now under a binding. What had it been intended to do – make her obedient or unable to harm her? She would have to pretend to still see kindly Lady Catherine and to notice no difference.
Fortunately, rattling away without thought was one of her finest skills. “Thank you so much! You are so very kind to me. This is the nicest reception I have ever had from another mage. How I wish I had known you earlier!”
“This way,” Lady Catherine said brusquely. She crossed the room to the tall glass doors and opened one of them herself. Why had she not rung for a footman to do that? She must want no witnesses.
Frederica kept chattering as she stepped out onto the terrace overlooking the vast garden, a wide swath of neatly mown grass with parkland in the distance.
One would hardly know they were in the middle of London were it not for the sooty air.
But she had done it! She had convinced Lady Catherine to come outside. Now it was up to the dragons.
“Enough,” Lady Catherine interrupted her flow of words. “Show me what you can do.” Yes, the show of kindness was over.
“Happily!” Frederica gushed. But where were the dragons? Why were they doing nothing? She could sense Quickthorn's presence in the back of her mind, but dared not try a sending.
She would have to continue the show, to keep Lady Catherine here as long as she could.
Reaching out her hands, she gathered energy from the air, mentally plaiting it into a smooth braid.
She focused all her Talent on it; she could not afford to let herself be distracted.
Finally, her hands and her body were full of magic.
She imagined her plait of energy beginning to turn, to spin, to race in circles - and she cast it out onto the green.
The whirlwind appeared, only a few feet tall at first, but it grew as she cast more spinning energy into it until it was nearly as tall as the trees. As it danced over the grass, the wind on the terrace began to pick up.
“Interesting,” Lady Catherine said. “What can you do with it?”
“It can knock over a man or tear up a small tree. I think I can make it larger with more practice.” But she was starting to feel giddiness rise inside her, so she cut off her connection to the spinning wind while she still could. “Do you think it could be useful?”
Where were the damned dragons?
Lady Catherine tapped her forefingers together. “With that, you could go anywhere and kill a man, leaving no sign behind.”
Frederica stifled a gasp. Yes, Lady Catherine was not hiding anything now. She must be very certain of her binding.
To her great relief, two familiar peregrine falcons flew out from the trees, arrowing through the air towards the terrace.
And then Lady Catherine screamed.