Page 83 of Triumph at Pemberley

And he must be gaining some, every time Napoleon forced European dragons to fight in battle. The Wicked King gained complete control over any dragon who killed. Was that the connection between the French Emperor and the Wicked King – the one that his mother had unknowingly facilitated? Was he seeking out new dragons to fight his wars?

It made sense. But none of it could relieve the pain Coquelicot felt over the loss of Hornbeam. “I hope you do not blame yourself,” he said quietly.

“I brought Lady Catherine back. If not for that, his taint would never have been discovered, and he would still be alive.”

“By that argument, it is my mother’s fault for calling on her sister at the Nest, which led to that discovery. Or Frederica’s fault for helping to capture Lady Catherine. All of us did what we could to save lives, and at the request of the Nest. If intention counts, as you said earlier, ours were good.”

“Little One, will you use my own words against me?” There was humor in her voice, though.

“You did not cause this. It is the fault of the Wicked King, and no one else,” he said fiercely.

Just then Elizabeth padded in, with Jenny asleep against her shoulder. Agate followed close behind, along with a yawning nursery maid and a manservant carrying the baby’s cradle. The little hatchling dragon raced to Coquelicot and pressed himself against the much larger ruby dragon.

“Agate wanted to be with other dragons,” Elizabeth said softly. “Cerridwen is on her way, too. She told me what happened.”

Coquelicot was already gathering Agate to her, and her anguished aura diminished. Another dragon to care for was no doubt just what she needed right now.

Elizabeth was rocking from one foot to the other, keeping up a steady motion for the baby, as the manservant set up the cradle nearby. Two lit candles barely made a dent in the darkness, and shadows flickered around the room.

“Shall I take her?” Darcy asked Elizabeth.

She shook her head. “It was hard to get her back to sleep,” she whispered. “The rush of magic woke her, too. I brought her down so she could be with Agate, in case it stirred something in her Talent.”

Sometimes life with dragons was complex.

Elizabeth carefully set Jenny in the cradle. Darcy held his breath, but she stayed asleep.

What time was it, anyway? He carried his candle over the clock on the chimneypiece. Four o’clock. The sun would be up in another hour or two. No point in going back to sleep now, not when Coquelicot might need him. He found one of the more comfortable settees against the wall and, with the help of the footman, carried it over by the cradle.

He whispered to Elizabeth, “For you. I will be back in a few minutes.” He wanted to arrange for a maid to light the fires and to fetch a shawl for Elizabeth. He suspected this might turn into a long day.

Elizabeth wiggled. She could not help herself; her leg was aching from her cramped position on the settee. Despite her efforts, it was enough to wake Darcy, whose arms tightened around her.

He blinked and glanced around them at the empty ballroom. Well, empty except Jenny in her cradle and Nelly, who had taken over from the nursery maid and now sat knitting.

“My apologies for falling asleep,” he said, his voice gravelly. He leaned down to kiss her lightly.

“We both did.” She reached up to straighten a lock of his hair that hung in the middle of his forehead. “You even slept through the dragons leaving.”

“Where did they go?”

“For the moment, to the nursery where they are setting wards, before gathering at the Nest to honor Hornbeam. Apparently the power of their ceremony may leak out to their companions, and this will protect Jenny from most of it. The last thing we need is her Talent flaring when Agate is not here to absorb it.”

After this is over, she was going to ask Cerridwen to teach her to set wards. They might be considered old-fashioned magic with no place in the modern nineteenth century, but clearly they had their uses. Especially with unpredictable Talent like Jenny’s.

“Did they say what would happen?”

“Cerridwen did not, though I doubt she has ever seen a dragon memorial. She may not know.” She sat up and stretched her sore muscles. “I think I will spend the morning up in the nursery, just in case. It will be a pleasant change from training with Cerridwen.” Perhaps she could re-read the diaries of Iorweth the Bold, too, in case she had missed some detail about Gates in it.

She had managed to open a Gate to India four times now, but each time it slipped away after only a minute or two. Somehow Iorweth had found a way to make the Gates permanent. Perhaps it was something too obvious to him to bother including in his diaries, but that did not help her. Or perhaps it was his long-lost archway Artifact.

“Coquelicot has asked to take up residence in the ballroom again,” Darcy said. “I hope you have no objection.”

“Of course not.” It was fine with her, but the question was how Rana Akshaya would feel about it.

“Good.” Darcy paused, then said carefully, “She says there are new dragons from India at the Nest.” It was a question phrased as a statement.

She would have to be careful here. “So I have heard. Cerridwen says she understands now how Rana Akshaya came to be so autocratic. Apparently the new dragons and their companions treat her as something close to a god.”