Page 77 of Triumph at Pemberley

“Is that a problem?”

“That you are bonded to Gwynedd’s enemy?” Still controlled, but his voice raised a little.

She huffed. “The only useful part is that I could tell directions. And I can find Jack – well, I can point in his direction, like a scenting hound, but I cannot tell how far away he might be. I hardly think those matter to anyone but me.”

“What about the land? Could you feel it?”

What was he making such a fuss about? “A little, but I never tried to do anything with it. No reason to when I was with Jack most of the time.”

He expelled a long, slow breath. Calming himself again? “Someday we will have to explore this, but we cannot do it from here.” It was the soldier prince speaking.

If he thought she was going to use this mysterious power against her native country, he could think again. But that argument could wait.

Finally he seemed to relax a little. “May I ask one thing of you?”

“What is it?” she asked cautiously.

“That you tell me things. Like Cerridwen wanting you to find something or needing to go back to Pemberley. I do not always do well with surprises, and there have been too many secrets between us already.”

“I will do my best,” she said slowly. But there was still the huge secret Rana Akshaya had told her to keep. How long could she keep pretending to have heard things via letter or from her dragon instead of directly from through the dragon scale?

And it might be important to Roderick some day, even lifesaving, if he knew she had a way to contact Pemberley quickly.

That decided her. “There is something else I did not tell you about yet.” She reached for the tiny sack that hung around her neck except when she was sleeping, the one she had told Roderick contained an emergency vinaigrette. “This is how I knew about Cerridwen’s new foresight.”

Frederica had the tea tray ready in their room when Roderick finally came home from his long day at the defenses. With so little time together, she had learned to make every minute count. Usually he was exhausted from all the demands and using his land bond, and there were always people waiting to see him at the house. A calm interval was what he needed when he retired for the night.

He gave her a light but lingering kiss, lines of fatigue prominent in his face.

“Will you sit and have tea with me? I am particularly proud of this tea tray,” Frederica said. “I asked for it all in Welsh, using a few simple sentences your sister taught me. I can now speak of fetching tea, more tea, teacups, and adding milk to tea.” She lifted the teapot. “Sadly, tea with biscuits is still a work in progress.”

“Te gyda bisgedi,” he said with a smile. “You are doing very well. Thank you.”

She repeated the words twice, committing them to memory. Her old tutors would be shocked to see her diligence now. But there was no time to waste. What if Napoleon conquered Britain because she had failed to comprehend an important hint in Welsh?

Unfortunately, that hint was unlikely to be related to tea, but she had to start somewhere.

As she poured his tea, the grey cat who seemed to have adopted her here jumped up on Roderick’s lap and curled up, the little traitor. Apart from Roderick’s sister, that cat was the only friend she had here. Sutton shadowed her everywhere, of course, but he was hardly a companion. Even Quickthorn was too busy on the defenses to talk to her most of the time.

“How has your day been, apart from learning about tea in Welsh?” Roderick asked.

“Uneventful. I walked into the village and practiced my limited Welsh greetings. The villagers were very kind, smiling and encouraging me. One little girl even gave me a bouquet of wildflowers.” She gestured to the small vase on the table.

“I am glad they are welcoming you. I was worried about that. Being English is a grave sin here.”

She handed him his teacup. “Ah, but I had the good sense to marry you, which shows I am not truly English at heart!”

“I thank God daily for that good sense of yours,” he said warmly. “And I hope most people here will be good to you. We are a hospitable folk, although there are always exceptions.” His face tightened, as if thinking of something unpleasant.

She wanted to be his refuge, the one he could confide in. “Is something troubling you? Beyond the obvious, that is.” She waved her hand as if to encompass the French attacks.

He paused, as if deciding whether to say anything. “I just spoke to my stepmother about Bethan, that girl who wanted to go into service here. The one whose family we stayed with on the road.”

“Nesta and Dafydd’s daughter,” she said promptly. She wanted him to know she had paid attention. “What did she say?”

Roderick’s lips made the slight quirk that meant he was displeased. “She is not interested in a farm girl with no training. But my own mother would have found something for her. It was one reason she was so beloved here; she took every concern seriously.” He lifted his teacup and took a sip.

“Poor girl. She seemed so interested in the wider world.” Perhaps this was a chance to show him the sort of Princess of Gwynedd she intended to be some day, if they both survived that long. “I still have not found a maid here. Could I hire her?”