“She arranged my flight to Wales, gave me the tools I needed to escape my family, and sent me to the Gwynedd Nest.”
“Truly? I always thought you wished to go there.”
Granny sniffed. “I was young and foolish. I wanted them to keep my father from marrying me off while I stayed at my lovely fashionable home, but the dragons would not intervene in a human’s mind for anything short of their safety. It turned out better this way. I could have returned to my family once I was wed to a man of my choice, but by then I liked my freedom in Wales too much.”
Then realization struck her. If the dragons had made it possible for Granny flee from her family, could they not assist Darcy in escaping France alive? “How did they help you?” She held her breath.
A triumphant smile lit her wrinkled face. “Finally, the correct question! You always were a clever one. They gave me a minor spell of confusion to keep anyone from noticing when I left, and an Artifact that created whatappeared to be my dead body. That was the only thing that would stop my family’s pursuit.”
Her mind raced. Something like that could help Darcy, too – but only if she could convince the Nest to accept Cerridwen and to complete her bond before he left for France. “How quickly can my final vows be arranged?”
Granny looked pleased. “It should not take long, once my Sycamore gives his blessing to Cerridwen leaving the Gwynedd Nest for the Dark Peak. He should be here later today, though his first priority will be speaking to your husband about the dragon attacks.”
Once again, Granny had come to her rescue – and clearly she had known exactly what she was doing. Elizabeth threw her arms around her. “Thank you so much. This could make all the difference.”
“Oh, tush, girl! You are the one who is doing everything.” She held her finger up to her lips, her eyes twinkling. “I never said a word about boons.”
“Not a single one!” Elizabeth agreed, beaming with impossible hope.
Chapter 3
Elizabeth could hardly waitto see Granny’s dragon again. Fortunately, Sycamore was already waiting in the oak grove at Pemberley when they arrived. Elizabeth alighted from the small open carriage and ran to him. His elegant form, with wings of metallic black and amethyst highlights, dominated the cleared area. How enormous he looked to her now, compared to Cerridwen! No wonder he preferred to sleep away from the house where he had more space.
She raised her hand to rub his shoulder in the way he had always liked. “Dearest Sycamore, it has been too long!” How she had loved spending time with him as a child in Wales! Playing together in the garden of Granny’s house, whispering her secrets to him late at night, hearing Sycamore argue with Granny on Elizabeth’s behalf when she had been caught in some mischief. He had even once let her ride him, with the thrill of the wind on her face and the patchwork of countryside rushing by far below her. Those memories had been hidden from her all those years, but now they were back, vivid with delight.
A joyous warmth flowed from his aura. “Little Lizzy, all grown up! And now Companion Elizabeth.”
She beamed up at him. “And we are together again.” A cause for celebration! She was looking forward to spending time with himwhile he was here.
But Darcy’s expression was studiously neutral as he helped Granny down from the carriage. Was this difficult for him? He had struggled with accepting Cerridwen, and meeting a full-grown dragon was enough to trouble even the bravest of men.
Regardless of his feelings, he helped Granny to the waiting chair. He did not even flinch as Sycamore padded across the clearing to join his elderly companion, towering over Darcy.
Granny’s expression softened as she reached out a gnarled hand to stroke Sycamore’s side. He leaned his head against her arm with clear affection. Then suddenly the dragon stiffened and swung his head towards Darcy, sniffing the air.
Darcy stood his ground, though his fingers curled inwards as if readying for a fight.
Sycamore shifted his weight to face Darcy directly, lifting the tips of his wings in a manner that reminded Elizabeth of a dog raising its hackles. The dragon spoke in a husky growl. “That one. He reeks of the blood of the High Fae.” This was a side of Sycamore she had never seen before.
Granny turned her head to stare at Darcy, but Elizabeth was already rushing to his side. “I assure you my husband is purely mortal,” she said.
The dragon studied him. “Mortal, but blood-bonded to a woman of the High Fae. And one who bears the blood of the King of Faerie, may his bones rot while he yet lives.”
“There must be some mistake,” Elizabeth blurted. “My husband disapproves of blood bonds. I do not know what you are sensing, but—”
Darcy held up a hand. “The dragon is correct. I am blood-bonded to a fae,” he said in a haughty, remote voice. “I know nothing of any connection to the High King, though.”
Elizabeth stared at him as if he had suddenly turned into a stranger. “But everything you said about blood bonds—”
“I did not like doing it, but I deemed it necessary.” His tone made clear this was not open to further discussion. “It has nothing to do with any of this.”
He had a blood bond with a highborn fae lady – and he expected her to simply accept it without complaint? Anger and betrayal threatened to choke her. She turned to Sycamore. “Forgive my intervention, then. Clearly I do not know whereof I speak,” she said icily, humiliation churning her stomach.
How could Darcy have done this to her? His distrust of dragons was bad enough, but this was worse, far worse. She dug her fingernails into her palms until it hurt.
“A bond to the blood of the Wicked King, may his flesh be cursed in eternity, is not a matter easily dismissed,” grumbled the dragon.
Darcy looked taken aback. “I know nothing of her connections. She is not…” He straightened. “This is not something I can discuss except to say it is completely unrelated to the matters at hand.”
