Page 105 of Triumph at Pemberley

“It is good of you to spend time with them,” she said, but she sounded restrained.

Was she angry he was late? “I am the only person they know here apart from their nurse. They have never been away from their mother before. It seems the least I can do. I am sorry I lost track of time, though.”

“It is nothing,” she replied, and then asked hesitantly, “Any news from the south?”

“No.” He would have told her otherwise. The war must be going badly indeed if no newspapers or messengers were making it through.

The candlelight caught her eyes as she looked up at him, and he realized they were reddened. He could not blame her; the outlook was bleak. Reaching across the table, he took her hand. “What is it, dearest?”

“Rana Akshaya wants me to take Cerridwen to one of the Scottish Nests.” Her voice was steady. “She is staying here because of the prophecy - the one saying if the Pemberley Nest falls, so will all the Nests across the world. But Rana Akshaya says if the worst happens, the dragons cannot afford to lose their only Seer.” She took a deep breath. “If she goes, I will have to accompany her, of course.”

It was almost a relief to hear her say it. Since learning of Jack’s capture, he had known it was time to take his family and leave Pemberley, likely forever. To leave his ancestral home, where his family was buried. His land bond was part of his bone and blood. He would never feel the vibrancy of the earth responding to him again, nor make himself part of the web of underground life. It would rip out part of him.

Was this how Elizabeth felt when he had insisted on taking her from the land she had bonded to, the earth she had nurtured and known from the inside out, every root and stone? There had been no reason to expect then she would ever bond to Pemberley or feel that intimate connection again. Now they would both face that future.

There had been a Darcy at Pemberley since Guillaume D’Arcy had come over with William the Conqueror. The wards could keep the French soldiers from entering, but a siege of a few months would starve them out.

Nothing was more important than keeping Elizabeth and Jenny safe. He would never let Coquelicot fall into Napoleon’s hands, either. She had bonded to him to spare herself precisely that fate, saving his life in the process. She might be a huge and powerful dragon, but she was his to protect, too.

“Yes,” he said heavily. “It is time. I will go with you, of course.”

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them again. “I have thought often of what we would need, and I believe you have made some preparations, too.”

“Months ago.” His mouth was dry. He had hoped his plans would somehow keep this from happening. “A thousand gold guineas, some of it sewn into clothing where thieves will not find it, and two thousand in bank notes, though there is no guarantee those will be worth anything after the invasion. An account at a bank in Edinburgh under a false name with another two thousand.” And another in a Canadian bank, but it was too painful even to think of that. Mrs. Reynolds had been collecting supplies for them for months, dried meat, fruit, nuts, and food for Jenny. Always bring food; he had learned that lesson the hard way while on the run in France.

“Rana Akshaya wants me to leave immediately, but I told her it would take at least a few days to prepare. Do you think that is safe?” Her voice wobbled.

“Richard told me yesterday it would take an army two weeks to march from London to Pemberley, and that would only be if they faced no resistance and came straight here. A few days, even a week, should be safe. That gives us time to straighten out a few things, like where we are going. Somewhere in Scotland is rather imprecise.”

She nodded. “What about the Hartung children?”

He rubbed the corners of his mouth. “I do not know. I imagine I can find a neighboring family to foster them for now. “

Elizabeth studied him carefully. “Or we could take them with us, I suppose.”

“I would feel better about that. Mme. Hartung would expect me to care for them.”

Elizabeth added, “We must come up with a plan for Bingley, since I would not want to take a prisoner with us. Georgiana can make her own choice, though she has an easy escape to Faerie if she needs it. Chandrika wishes to come with us, even though she knows I may not be able to pay her. She can help with Jenny, too. Granny, Jasper, your mother – I will speak to them.” She still wore her brave face, but her voice wobbled.

He reached across and took her hand. “As long as we are together, all will be well. I can think of no one I would rather go into exile with.”

With a shaky laugh, she said, “I hardly think Scotland constitutes exile, but I agree with you.”

Anything beyond Pemberley was exile for him.

Chapter 41

Elizabeth straightened abruptly from the list of which clothes she would take to Scotland. “Frederica is here?” she cried. “Are you certain?”

“Even now dismounting from her carriage, madam,” the footman said. “A runner from the gatehouse just arrived with the news.”

It seemed an impossible miracle, just as she was feeling swamped by the losses she would soon face. Her land bond, all the lovely furnishings and sweeping vistas of Pemberley, the trappings of tasteful wealth she had become accustomed to, even England itself. All her work and training, her terrifying journey to France, had been for nothing.

A dear friend, one she could rely on for good cheer, was just what she needed. She raced out the door and half-tumbled down the stairs. There was Frederica in the entrance hall, a satchel at her feet, and handing the poker-faced Hobbes her bonnet with a gay laugh. An unknown servant girl stood behind her.

Elizabeth hurried to embrace her. “Frederica! I have been so worried for you since your letter. Is everyone in Gwynedd safe?”

“For now, yes. Roderick’s father managed to chase off the French. No, Hobbes, do not touch that!” The butler had reached for her satchel, but slowly straightened at her words.