Elizabeth shifted from one foot to another. “He has not stated an opinion. He refused to let Lady Amelia’s dragon read his thoughts about you because he is afraid of giving away secrets of his mission, which is why I am asking you to answer them directly instead.”
Finally the girl raised her eyes to Elizabeth. “Why? If my brother does not wish it, why should I subject myself to questions from these dragons?”
“Because your brother is a stubborn fool,” Elizabeth snapped. “His life is at stake, and I will leave no stone unturned trying to save him. The dragons may be able to help him, but unless we answer their questions, they will not do so.”
“You mean his mission?” She gazed down at the keyboard. “He does not expect to survive it, does he?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No, he does not.”
“I thought as much, when he told me you would be my guardian if anything happened to him.” Her voice trembled. “If that happens, I promise to be as little trouble to you as I can. To stay out of your way, if you wish it.”
“No, I do not wish it! What I want is for you to do the one thing that might save your brother.” Even if she was furious with him.
Georgiana’s eyes were wide as saucers. “How can talking to the dragons possibly helphim?”
She would have to spell it out, the thing she had been keeping secret. “When I take my final vows as Cerridwen’s companion, the dragons will grant me a boon of my choice. I plan to ask them to bring your brother home safely. It is nearly my only remaining hope. But the dragons will notallow me to take the vows unless they can resolve the matter of his bond to you. No final vows, no boon. Darcy has refused to allow them to read his thoughts. Perhaps if you will speak to them… I ask this for his safety, not for my own sake.”
Georgiana lifted her fingers from the keyboard and lowered the cover with exaggerated care. “Then I will answer their questions.”
Chapter 4
Darcy trudged up theseemingly endless steep slope behind Elizabeth, mist blocking any view which might distract him from this miserable errand or from his wife’s continuing cool distance. Yesterday had been bad enough after his revelation about Georgiana, but he had assumed they could talk about it and she would understand. Apparently he had underestimated her anger – or his sins.
Not that Elizabeth had given him any chance to apologize. After she had avoided him at dinner, he had not even seen her until late in the evening, when she had appeared in his study to inform him – not to ask him! – that she and Georgiana would be meeting with the Dark Peak dragons in the morning. When he had gently suggested that perhaps he should have been involved in such a decision, she had raised her chin and told him that since he had chosen to act in the manner which suited him best, without reference to her, she had resolved to do the same. And then she had swept out without another word.
He had not gone to her bedroom last night, telling himself she needed time to regain her spirits, but the truth was that he could not bear to see her anger or face the possibility that she would turn him away. His lonely bed was almost as unbearable, after all those nights of heavenly abandon, of making love to her and falling asleep in her arms, of waking there in the morning with a previously unknown joy.
Hemissedher, damn it!
Then, when he had come to breakfast at the same time they usually drifted downstairs together, she was already having a carriage readied and looked displeased when he announced his intention to accompany them. At least she had not refused, though perhaps that was only because Georgiana might not have stood for it.
So now they were here, together in body if not in spirit, speaking only when strictly necessary, and to maintain an appearance of cooperation in front of Georgiana. Not that she was likely to be convinced by it.
Finally the path leveled off, the mist falling away, revealing a long ridge with outcroppings to the side. Easy for a dragon to escape and hard for anyone else to see, especially in all the mist. Perhaps the fog was weather magic, designed to provide cover for the dragons. But there was no sign of the beasts.
“Where do we meet them?” he asked.
Elizabeth glanced up at a kestrel circling overhead. Cerridwen, no doubt. “They are on their way.”
A trio of hawks materialized out of the mist, winging their way along the ridge. They glided in and landed some twenty feet away, where the kestrel joined them. One by one, the hawk shapes blurred and swelled into the now too-familiar forms of dragons.
Huge dragons.
At least two of them dwarfed Cerridwen, making her look like a doll beside them. He had thought Sycamore was enormous, but these were even larger. The third was only twice Cerridwen’s size.
The small dragon – small! As if there were anything small about him, except by comparison! – approached them. “Companion Elizabeth, we meet again.”
She inclined her head. “Honored Rowan, I am grateful to you for coming today on such short notice.”
“We will always respond to the call of a dragon companion,” said the dragon, his scales shimmering with dark red highlights. “I have brought two of the Nest who bear the wisdom of age. May I present Juniper, whospeaks for the Eldest today, and whose poetry sings in the wind? And this is Hawthorn, whose Talents come to life in our greatest sculptures.”
Darcy’s lips tightened. How easy it was to present themselves as artists when their distant cousins had massacred an army. And naming themselves for trees? Ridiculous!
“It is a great honor to have dragons of such abilities travel so far for my small needs,” said Elizabeth.
The red dragon said, with apparent amusement, “There is much interest in you at the Nest, Companion Elizabeth.”
The largest dragon, whose form dominated the hilltop, spoke in a resonant voice that echoed off the rocks. “Companion Elizabeth, pray acquaint us with these other mortals.”
