Page 89 of Triumph at Pemberley

“She is a little better now, but oh! The tantrums and sulking we had to endure for months afterwards! I foolishly tried suggesting that Lady Anne might reconsider if she changed her ways, but it only angered her. The militia was called away, though, leaving her no men in red coats to flirt with. She is calmer when she has no audience, and that gives me hope for her future.” Of course Jane would see hope when no one else would.

It was so good to be with Jane again!

After the ladies withdrew and Jasper excused himself, Bingley asked Darcy, “Is everyone here a dragon companion?”

Darcy chuckled. “Just Granny, Elizabeth, and I.”

“And you said nothing of this when I came here last year!”

Ah, yes, that flying visit when Bingley had refused to believe his assertion that Napoleon was a dragon. It had seemed better not to mention Cerridwen or Agate under the circumstances, since it would only have earned Bingley a dragon binding. “I had not yet met my dragon then,” he said. That was safe enough.

“And they live here with you?”

“The little one, yes. The others stay in a cave nearby most of the time. But you cannot tell anyone beyond Pemberley about the dragons; we are all sworn to keep their presence a secret. Will you give me your word?” When Bingley left, the dragons would put a binding on him, but Darcy did not want to start their visit with one of those. He had missed being able to talk to a friend.

Bingley shifted in his chair. “Of course. But are you not tempted to tell people? Think of what Captain Jack could do with these dragons!”

Darcy covered his mouth to smother a laugh. He could not tell his friend about Jack’s true parentage, but perhaps he could reveal some of the rest. Bingley had seen, more than almost anyone else, what Jack’s supposed death in battle had done to him. “Do you recall my brother Jack?”

Bingley’s face sobered. “The one who died at Salamanca. How could I forget?”

Darcy leaned back. “Well, it turns out the story is a bit more complicated than we knew at the time.”

Chapter 35

Two days had passed since the arrival of the Bingleys when Darcy hurried into Granny’s private sitting room, pushing his way past Bingley who stood with his hand on the door latch. “Are you ill? Coquelicot told me you needed me immediately.”

“I am perfectly well,” Granny said tartly, “which is more than I can say for that piece of filth.” She gestured across the room at Bingley.

How dare she say such a thing! And why did Bingley not seem to react to her words?

Elizabeth skidded into the room next. Cerridwen must have sent for her, too. Apparently reassured to find her great-grandmother alive and well, she asked, “What is going on?”

Granny sniffed. “I asked Bingley to join me because I wanted to know more about what happened at Longbourn. Apparently no one warned the fool about my truth-casting.”

A bad feeling raced along Darcy’s skin. Not Bingley. “What did you discover?”

“There was no attack on Longbourn, nor any letter from the War Office. They were in no danger at all there.” Granny’s rheumy eyes flashed. “He is here to spy on you for the cursed French.”

No. Not his close friend, the man who had helped him prepare for his mission to France. “Is this true?” he asked through his dry mouth.

Granny flicked her fingers at Bingley, who suddenly seemed to come back to life. Darcy sucked in a breath. She must have frozen him in place, as she had once done to him to demonstrate her ability to defend herself.

“It is not what you think!” Bingley burst out.

Granny held up her hand to silence Darcy. “Then tell me why you came here,” she said in a deceptively sweet voice.

“I…” Bingley rubbed his finger under his cravat. “I had to get Jane away. She was not safe there.”

“Why Pemberley?”

“Because they gave me no choice!” He sounded agonized.

“Who gave you no choice?” Now Granny’s tone was merciless.

“The French spies! They captured her when she was in the garden with Tommy, and refused to release them until I agreed to come here. They were going to take her to Napoleon to be executed!” He wiped his brow frantically. “Darcy, I never wanted to do this! I am as loyal an Englishman as anyone! But they are holding both my sisters hostage, too. What else could I do?”

Bile rose in Darcy’s throat. How dare he call himself loyal? “You could have come to me as soon as you arrived, and we could have worked out a solution together. A story you could send to them that did not betray us all,” he said savagely.