How could he answer this truthfully without frightening her even more? “They are taking great care. My new itinerary will be known only to two men.”
“A spy in the War Office. I hate to think of it.” She shivered.
“I expect they will catch him soon.” At least he hoped so. It was one thing to risk everything to end the war, but not if he would be arrested as soon as he set foot in France.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said resolutely. “Is there anything else you have been keeping back?”
His stomach clenched. Of course there was. Which should he honor, her request that he trust her, or his instinct to keep it to himself?
She frowned. “There is, I can tell.”
“I would rather not say this, to be truthful. But I will.” He drew in a deep breath. “There is a good chance Napoleon will be back in Paris in a few weeks. Which means my mission will start very soon.”
And then her face crumpled, her bright eyes filling with tears. “No,” she whispered as if in disbelief, her voice trembling.
He folded her tightly to him, helpless in face of the devastation he had caused by coming into her life – and of his many, many bitter regrets over leaving her behind.
Still heartsick over Darcy’s news, Elizabeth stepped into Granny’s room the following morning, seeking comfort in the same way she had as a child. Back then, her great-grandmother had always been able to cure whatever ailed her. This problem was beyond anyone’s ability to repair, but at least Granny would listen and sympathize. And Elizabeth needed that understanding so very badly, so she could go on pretending to the rest of the world that everything was normal.
Granny sat in bed with a tray of hot chocolate. She lifted her cup with a hand that trembled slightly. “This is something I have missed in Wales – having someone bring me chocolate on a chilly morning! I suppose I could have learned to make it, but it would look very odd to the people there. I am enjoying this visit back to the lap of luxury.”
Elizabeth kissed the dry, wrinkly skin of her cheek, wishing she were eight years old again and could crawl in beside Granny. “I am glad we can indulge you.”
The elderly lady put a finger under Elizabeth’s chin and studied her. “What is making your pretty eyes so red? Come tell Granny all about it.”
Elizabeth pulled a chair close to her bedside and sank into it. “My husband will be leaving for France sooner than I thought. Only a few weeks, perhaps.” She barely got the words past the knot in her throat. “And chances are that he will never return.” Her voice broke on the last words.
Granny patted her hand. “I did wonder about that.”
“I do not want him to die!” It was almost a wail. “I have done everything I can think of to improve his chances, but it is not enough. I cannot bear it.” She buried her face in her hands, choking back sobs.
“What have you done so far?”
Elizabeth swallowed hard, struggling for the remnants of her composure. “I bonded to the land so I can feed him more power, and I taught him everything I learned from my books. And I conceived his child so he can draw on his land Talent while he is in France.”
Granny nodded. “A good start. I may be able to teach him a trick or two that could help, but you are right, it is a dangerous situation.”
It was not what she needed to hear. “I will appreciate anything you can do,” she said, trying to sound grateful instead of hopeless.
“You are a dear child.” Granny took a thoughtful sip of her chocolate. “Now, we must speak about your final bonding to Cerridwen.”
What? Her final bonding was the last thing on her mind. Did Granny not even care that Elizabeth was losing her beloved husband?
It was a painful realization, but perhaps she simply did not. Granny had outlived three husbands and most of her children, and likely she thought Elizabeth was making a great deal of fuss over nothing. And Granny had other worries about the safety of the dragons.
If Elizabeth’s heartbreak meant nothing to her, then there was nothing to do but to accept that bitter pill. She slowly straightened in her chair and raised her chin. “What about it?” She struggled to keep her voice even.
Granny gave her an indulgent smile that seemed out of keeping with her dismissal of Elizabeth’s concerns. “The ceremony itself is a simple matter. The two of you appear before the Eldest, and you promise to protect Cerridwen and the Nest. They make a little celebration of it, and all the dragons come to watch. At the end, the Eldest offers you a boon of welcome.”
“A boon,” Elizabeth echoed. Did Granny think that Elizabeth was a child, to be cheered up by some trinket the dragons might give her when she was losing the man she loved?
“You can ask for anything. Oftentimes it is healing for a loved one, or something of monetary value – a farm or a flock of sheep to provide income for a companion who might worry about keeping a roof over their heads. Those of us who are wealthier are often given an Artifact.”
“What did you get?” Elizabeth was intrigued despite herself.
With a rusty chuckle, she said, “I was difficult, naturally. I asked the Eldest to stop me from being forced into marriage. She did it, too, although not in the way I hoped.”
“What do you mean?”
