Page 99 of Triumph at Pemberley

She swept a deep curtsey. “As Your Majesty wills.”

As a soldier escorted her from the imperial presence, she trembled with relief. Jack was alive, and she had not been imprisoned.

It was the best she could hope for. Now she needed to find a way to help Jack, despite having someone watching her every move.

Chapter 39

Frederica awoke abruptly, goosebumps covering her arms. It had been the dream again. The same one that had haunted Frederica all week, but even more vivid and with a new twist. Normally her dreams were disjointed, fleeting creatures where she found herself in strange and often embarrassing situations.

Not this one.

Until tonight, the dream had shown her discovering a river cascading through a narrow gorge lit by emerald light. It was almost impossibly beautiful, but not somewhere she had ever been nor seen a painting of, at least so far as she could recollect. What was it about the clean, sharp air of Gwynedd that created this fancy in her mind, making it appear in her sleep again and again? Was this house haunted?

Or could it be related to sleeping beside Roderick every night? His warm body lay next to her now, his arm thrown over her and holding her close. He was always telling her tales from the mythology of Gwynedd. Perhaps it was creeping into her dreams.

A dream that occurred once could be a random figment of her imagination. Twice could be her mind going in circles. Every night was something to pay attention to, especially since this time a slender fae lady had appeared in the vale, pleading with her – and she mentioned giving her something. Could that something be what Frederica was supposed to find?

Who are you? Frederica had tried to ask, but in the strange world of dreams, no sound came from her mouth.

Was it a true message or a fae prank? Could the fae even know that Frederica was searching for something to take to Pemberley? She had told only Roderick, but the invisible lesser fae were everywhere, and one of them could have overheard it.

She knew better than to trust anything a fae said, but the one in her dreams had said she would come to no harm and be free to leave. Fae could not lie, at least in person. Could they do so in dreams?

And it was the only lead she had to whatever she was supposed to find in order to prevent disaster.

Come to me, come to me, the voice had sung. You must come to me, or we shall all perish.

She could not ignore it.

The next morning, over breakfast, Frederica said to Roderick, “That Faerie Glen we passed on my first day here. Do the fae ever come this far?”

“Sometimes. You may occasionally see them outside the wards of the village, but usually they keep their distance.”

Except one of them might be invading her dreams. Back in England, she would have told Roderick about it, but here the heir to a land under attack was less likely to listen to her.

In this case, it might be safer to beg for forgiveness rather than to tell him what she had in mind. Especially as she did not particularly wish him to accompany her. “Perhaps I should know exactly where it is, so I do not accidentally stumble into Faerie.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin. “There are warning flags to prevent that. As long as you stay on this side of the river and do not cross any of the tributaries, you will be safe enough.”

Even if she had no reason to go, this sounded interesting, far different from the isolated, empty faerie rings in England. “I should like to see such a thing. Perhaps someday, when we are at peace again, you could take me there.” If she showed no interest, he would guess that she was up to something.

“I would be glad to.” He took her hand and squeezed it. “Not that we have ever been completely at peace here, but usually it is not like this. I do not care for the man I must be when we are at war.”

“I am rather glad to hear it. It is disconcerting how different you are here.”

He traced her cheekbone with his forefinger. “What is it your poet says? ‘Had we but world enough and time?’ I read that at Pemberley.”

Pemberley seemed like years ago. Before Jack found his King’s Bond, before she had gone into battle, before watching men die, before she had come to this charming but strange place. Could it only have been a few months since she had reunited with Roderick there?

Well, she had been glad to be at Pemberley because she was bored with her life and wanted a change. This was definitely different.

“This must be it. The Faerie Glen.” Frederica said to Sutton quietly. They had passed the line of flags Roderick mentioned a few minutes earlier. Here the stream narrowed dramatically, tumbling wildly through a gorge of moss-covered stone. Ancient trees loomed over the water, with the sun filtering through in an emerald light. She could practically smell the eldritch magic wafting from it.

Frederica swung her leg over her horse to dismount, something she was quickly improving at. She signaled to Sutton and Bethan to do the same. This outing was going to be a test of her new maid’s loyalty to her. She had asked the girl, with a combination of gestures and the Welsh word for secret, not to tell anyone about this. It would have been better to bring only Sutton, whose steadfastness was proven, but she had needed someone who spoke Welsh in case they ran into a local or a fae who knew no English.

As Sutton held the horses, Frederica opened the saddlebags to remove her supplies. Bethan, looking puzzled, helped her spread the cloth over a small area of flat ground. Frederica set out a plate and loaded it with small cakes, hoping the Welsh fae loved sweets as much as their English counterparts. She surveyed the results. Hardly elegant, but it would have to do.

“Sutton, I want you to take the horses and stay back behind those trees. Should anything happen to me, ride back to the village and tell my husband. There is no point in trying to help me against the fae.” Her voice was remarkably steady for someone who was violating every safety rule she had ever been taught.