He looked just the same. How dare he make her heart skip a beat, after what he had done to her?
“Lady Frederica, I thank you for receiving me,” he said. Of course Roderick would not pay her the automatic compliment any gentlemen of society would have given a lady, be she the plainest chit in Town.
But she already knew all too well that he did not find her attractive, and she might well have exploded if he had said she was as lovely as ever. If he could even manage to say it in face of her truth-casting.
Oh, why was this one man able to confuse her so?
“I suppose you did not know I was here, or you would have stayed away.” Blast her ready tongue! She had meant to stay polite, especially with Hobbes stationed just inside the door like the well-trained butler he was, unwilling to leave Lady Frederica Fitzwilliam alone with an unmarried man. Especially a Welsh commoner.
“No, Lady Frederica, I was well aware of your presence,” he said in the same gentle voice he had always used, the one that had foolishly made her think him kind. “I would have called earlier, had I thought you would welcome it. Business brings me here today.”
Of course he would not have come to her of his own free will. “What is it you require?” she asked bluntly. Not her, that was for certain.
His mouth quirked. “Rowan plans to spend a few days strengthening the wards against the Wicked King. He asked me to take on the lesser bond again as his anchor for it. In the absence of the Darcys, I wished to ask your permission for the two of us to be on Pemberley grounds while he works.”
Her stomach flip-flopped. Several days of his presence? Even having him nearby would hurt, that constant ache of knowing she was not enough for him, not even with her wealth, birth, and connections. “I suppose you wish to stay here, then.”
“It would be convenient, but I could ride back and forth each day.” How did he always sound so reasonable?
No. It would be unbearable to have him in the house at night. There had to be another way. She said, “Hobbes, Mr. Roderick will be staying at the Dower House for a few days.”
Hobbes bowed. “I will make the arrangements, your ladyship.”
Frederica raised her chin. “Mr. Roderick, I hope you will forgive me for sending you there, but with Mrs. Darcy away, I cannot have an unmarried gentlemen stay in the same house as Miss Darcy.” It had the benefit of being true, by society standards, even if she had already made an exception for her brother Jasper.
“I understand completely.” His voice was muted. “Pray forgive me for taking up so much of your time.”
If she did not know better, she would have said he sounded hurt. But she did know better.
He bowed and departed, leaving her feeling more alone than ever. Alone and empty.
But she was not alone anymore. She had Quickthorn now.
She reached out through the connection that was always there, to her irritating, short-tempered, beloved dragon.Herdragon. She still could not believe it.Quickthorn, are you there? Roderick is here, saying he and Rowan will be working on the Pemberley wards.
A mental snort came in reply. It is just an excuse. Rowan quarreled with the Eldest and now is desperate to get away from the Nest, so he has concocted this. It will do no harm, though.
Rowan was the most even-tempered dragon she met, and the Eldest nearly so.What happened?
No one knows, and he will not say.The sending was flavored with Quickthorn’s annoyance that Rowan did not trust her, his nearest age-mate in the Nest.But he has been moping for days. I am glad he is leaving.
Interesting.Will I see you tonight?It was the Eldest’s decree; while Rana Akshaya was at Pemberley, Quickthorn must be, too. Frederica was glad of it, even if it made Quickthorn cranky. It meant being with her dragon more. With Roderick nearby she would be even more grateful.
As always. The sending cut off. So the wards were an excuse. Did Roderick know that? Or did Roderick want an excuse to be here, too?
No. Roderick had made his feelings plain that horrible night in the coaching inn before they reached London, that she was good enough for a momentary distraction, but nothing else. Daydreams were pointless andwould only hurt her more. And there had been quite enough pain. She was so tired of living with this aching hollow deep inside her where once she had thought Roderick cared for her.
Foolish, foolish, foolish!
She needed a distraction, and the primer of the Arabic language would not do. Perhaps she could convince Jasper or Georgiana to spar with her. Trying to stab someone sounded just right.
Janet, the maidservant that Frederica knew from her own time at the Dower House, was out of breath when she arrived in Pemberley’s breakfast room. Had she run all the way?
“What is the matter?” Frederica asked.
“It’s Mr. Roderick, your ladyship. He’s terrible sick.”
Frederica ignored the tug of fear in her gut. Janet was prone to exaggeration. “What seems to be the matter with him?”
