Page 78 of Triumph at Pemberley

Roderick choked on his tea. “As your lady’s maid? I would be happy for her to have employment, but she would know nothing of how to wait on a fine lady, how to remove stains from silk clothing or shoes, how to dress your hair or manage your wardrobe. She does not even speak English!” Typical Roderick, to know more of the duties of a lady’s maid than Frederica did, despite having had one for years.

“She wants to learn. She caught on to more English in the night we were at her house than I did Welsh.” They had made a game of it and laughed together. Bethan had liked her, unlike most of the servants in the manor house who dared not displease his stepmother. And she would not report every little slip Frederica made, as the current woman helping her did. “I want her. She is a clever girl and can learn. And there is a shortage of English-speaking servants eager to serve an unknown lady.”

Bethan could help Frederica learn, too, both Welsh and her future responsibilities. Someday she would be mistress of this house, and she would have to know what tasks each servant performed, not to mention their family background and individual needs. In England, a knowledgeable housekeeper would handle all of that. Here it would fall to her.

“It would be a kind thing, and I suppose you could do worse than to have a maid whose first loyalty is to you,” Roderick said thoughtfully. “You are taking on a task, though, teaching her English and all of her responsibilities here.”

“It is not as if I am busy, apart from learning to pronounce Welsh badly and hoping to stumble across whatever I am supposed to take to Pemberley.” It was true, especially when Roderick was at work on the defenses all day. What was there to do apart from taking long walks into the village and around the countryside in the hope of finding the mysterious object in Cerridwen’s foresight?

Now his mouth quirked up in amusement. “Your accent is charming.”

“Diolch.” She thanked him in that language in a droll voice. She added, “My maid in England would dress me like a fancy doll suitable for the highest society, but that is not what I need here. I want to be more approachable than that painted doll. I left most of my elegant dresses behind, and just as well. I still look out of place here.”

Roderick sat back with a smile. “You look lovely. My stepmother would like nothing better than to be a fine English lady, but all she can do is to copy dresses from out-of-date London magazines. It is no doubt part of why she resents you. She may be the highest-ranking lady in Gwynedd, but she has always envied Granny for her elegance and confidence. And now she no doubt compares herself to you.”

Frederica made a mental note to ask her mother to send the latest editions of Ackermann’s Repository. It would make them both happy, since Lady Matlock would be delighted her errant daughter was taking more of an interest in fashion at last. She need not know Frederica was giving them to Roderick’s stepmother.

Roderick patted his leg. “Will you come here? I have been missing you all day.”

She set down her teacup and hopped into his lap with alacrity. Winding her arms around his neck, she whispered, “That is the best news I have heard all day.”

Chapter 31

Darcy stewed as he escorted his mother into the Dark Peak Nest. What did she think would come of this meeting with Lady Catherine? She had tried to explain it, that there were things she had wished for years she could tell her sister, but did she truly expect to get any satisfaction from a woman willing to sacrifice anything and anyone in her quest for power? Especially when Jack was finally showing the powers Lady Catherine had hoped for.

Better to leave Lady Catherine to rot in the Nest, as far as he was concerned. What could be more vile than a Talent who dared to control the minds of others? He would have been happy to see her executed for her crimes, but the dragons would not have it.

He would not even be there, but the dragons had told Lady Anne she could only come into the Nest if accompanied by a dragon companion. He had felt obliged to agree when she asked him, since she almost never requested anything from him. And she had indeed devoted herself to little Jenny’s care, spending time each day in the nursery playing with her and working with Jenny’s dragon, Agate, on how to control Jenny’s early-blooming Talent.

In any case, he owed her a favor, and this was what she wanted.

“Have you been here before? You seem unsurprised by it,” he said. An unusual reaction, given the astonishing sculptures and mosaics that covered every surface around them.

She shrugged. “When my mother was alive, Hornbeam used to tell us bedtime stories. Mostly about dragons and their companions, but on occasion he talked about the Nest. He created illusions of it so we children could see it.” Lady Anne looked around her. “It is more vivid in person.”

The decoration became simpler as they followed their human guide into a space designed more for easily overwhelmed mortal eyes than dragons. Here the walls were plain by comparison, with only scattered carvings and mosaics.

They reached a chamber with three doors leading off it. Doors. That was an unusual feature in a Nest. Even Jack’s quarters in the French Nest had a blanket that could be pushed aside instead.

The servant said, “You will cross three strong wards when you enter her room. It is not particularly comfortable. They are keyed to Lady Catherine, but I will stay here in case you react to them.”

The dragons, it appeared, were taking no chances with their prisoner. Good for them.

“I can remain out here if you wish,” Darcy said to his mother, trying to keep a hopeful note out of his voice. He had no desire to breathe the same air as Lady Catherine.

“No, pray join me,” Lady Anne said. Was she afraid to be alone with her sister, even imprisoned and stripped of her Talent?

Given how much his mother had suffered at her sister’s hands, perhaps it was not surprising.

“One more thing,” the servant said. “Her mind is much like a child’s now. Clever, but lacking in understanding. Just so you know.”

“Of course you may ask me questions!” Lady Catherine beamed. “I would be delighted.”

A bad taste filled Darcy’s mouth. Lady Catherine had been like this since they arrived, simply burbling with pleasure and welcoming them. Not a word of complaint about being imprisoned, and no mention of the events of London. It would have been acceptable for someone having company for tea. Here it was clearly an artificial show. Lady Catherine had no assets left except her charm, and she was making every attempt to use it.

Lady Anne studied her sister. “When I was a little girl, you used to help me with my lessons. You were the one who taught me to read, more than our governess. We played games together. You always wanted to be queen in them, but you could be warm and kind, even generous on occasion. Do you remember that?”

“Of course I do! Such wonderful games we played, you and our brother George and I. We were always the best of friends.”