Page 1 of Triumph at Pemberley

Chapter 1

May Day at Pemberley was exactly the joyful celebration Darcy had hoped for. The prancing Green Man, his identity disguised in woven foliage, cheered for the village girls dancing around the maypole. The tenants clapped their hands and enjoyed the long table loaded with food prepared by the Pemberley cooks. The bench weighed down with pitchers of free ale and mead had been refilled already.

It was a joyful revel, a reprieve from the last two difficult years.

His people deserved it. They had stayed loyal to the Darcy family and kept their secrets, despite attacks by the High Fae, the influx of dragons, and being trapped inside the Pemberley wards. When French spies had tried to infiltrate the estate after Napoleon put a price on Darcy’s head, the local people had not faltered. Darcy wanted them to feel his appreciation.

And Darcy had his own reward – his dearest Elizabeth was beside him, smiling.

He had been dubious about her decision to include the dragons today, but clearly the villagers thought them a fine addition to the festivities. The hatchling dragons, no larger than puppies and brought down for the occasion from their own draconic nursery on the hill, were playing happily with the youngest children. Cerridwen, Elizabeth’s full-grown dragon, stood patiently just beyond the Maypole with a wreath of wildflowers atop her head. A tenant boy was offering her bits of her favorite plum cake.

Under his breath, Darcy said to Elizabeth, “I cannot believe Cerridwen agreed to this.”

She gave him a slant-wise glance, clearly amused. “She is under orders from the Pemberley Nest. Now that they have emerged from hiding, they need to reassure people they are peaceful.”

It did not seem as if anyone here had doubts about it, but before he could say as much, Mrs. Sanford approached them. In public. His prickly illegitimate half-sister usually avoided him, but perhaps their work together with his dragon Coquelicot had softened her. He certainly found it hard to stay angry with anyone when warm, generous Coquelicot was nearby. Still, it would pay to be cautious.

“Happy May, Mrs. Sanford!” Elizabeth greeted the midwife.

“Happy May, Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy. What very fine weather we have today.” From anyone else, it would have meant nothing, but Mrs. Sanford managed to put an edge on it. Had she guessed?

Best not to deny it. “I might have nudged a few clouds along yesterday,” he said. “Part of my training with Lady Amelia.”

“Granny does keep you busy, does she not?” Elizabeth said fondly.

“Indeed. Mrs. Sanford, I understand you declined Lady Amelia’s offer of training,” he said carefully.

Her smile had an edge. “Why do you care? I cannot believe you want me to learn magery. What is the benefit to you?”

He knew better than to rise to her bait. “When Napoleon arrives, we will need every mage we can get. Even if you could only cast a bit of mist to confuse the French soldiers, it could save lives.”

“Ah, so it does help you.”

“Those lives are more likely to be your neighbors than me,” he snapped. “But yes, I want something from you. Napoleon is specifically hunting both Elizabeth and me. Pemberley is a target because of me. Once he is close, we will have to flee. You will be the only land Talent left here, with or without magery, but I want the tenants to have every advantage they can get.”

He had surprised her; that was obvious. “You would want me to take over your role in the land with my limited ability? Why not your brother?”

On edge from her barbs, he almost blurted out the truth that Jack was not a Darcy at all, but he stopped himself. “Jack never developed a bond to Pemberley. Besides, he is away fighting the invasion.”

“I am all you have left, then,” she said.

Elizabeth squeezed his arm in warning.

He took a deep breath. “Hardly that, but you are the only member of my family who is not being actively hunted by either Napoleon or the Wicked King of Faerie. And I hope you will take advantage of that.”

She looked shaken, no doubt by being called part of the family. “I will consider it.”

He inclined his head. “That is all I can ask.”

Before them, the crowd was parting, making way for Cerridwen to walk towards them. Was she tired of being fussed over by noisy mortals? He would certainly sympathize with that.

Elizabeth frowned. “Cerridwen says something is wrong. She wants to take you somewhere.”

“Take me?” Usually dragons would only carry their own companions.

She shrugged, clearly as puzzled as he was. “That is all she said.” She backed away a few steps, though, to make room for the dragon.

Cerridwen lowered herself to the ground in front of Darcy, the incongruous wreath of flowers still on her crest. Mount up, she said in his mind. Now. The urgency in her aura could not be mistaken.