“Good,” Darcy said, not without vindictiveness. “He may have useful information about Napoleon’s plans, too.”
Cattermole shot him a horrified look. “Darcy, those are state secrets! Take me away from here.”
“I owe you and this government nothing,” he snapped. “Pray proceed, Honorable Quickthorn.”
“No!” cried Cattermole. “You cannot force me to speak!”
Jasper pulled a small stiletto from his boot and flipped it into the air, catching the handle between two fingertips. “I strongly urge you to answer any questions my sister asks you.” He sounded bored.
Coquelicot spoke in his mind.Little One, it would be best if you left us for now. Your anger, while justifiable, will make it difficult for the truth-casters to work.We will not let Cattermole of the British government escape.
It took him aback at first, being dismissed like a rebellious schoolboy, but it was also a relief. He wanted to be alone, ached with the need. And his rage, so prone to breaking out since his journey to France, was not his friend. He nodded abruptly. “Jasper, I am counting on you to watch him,” he said as he stepped out the door.
“It will be myverygreat pleasure,” his cousin said.
Now Elizabeth’s voice sounded inside him, full of concern.Shall I come with you?
No. I need to be alone.And Elizabeth could keep an eye on whatever was happening with Cattermole.
She sent him a silent surge of love and understanding, which was almost enough to make his breathing go back to normal.
He strode towards the front hall, needing to be out on the land, to feel its power in his veins. He ignored the servants in his way, brushing away the hat and coat the butler offered him. The cold air might soothe his temper.
As soon as he stepped down from the portico, Pemberley was there, sending its energy into him. No matter what else might go wrong, the land would always be there for him.
But was he truly going to do this? Refuse to submit to the authority of the government, to be in open rebellion?
It was inconceivable, but so was what the War Office had done to him. It would change everything, destroy any social standing he might have, and even make him a fugitive. Like he had been in France – something he had thought never to do again. It could be the end to the life he had always known.
And rebellion could not work forever – but all indications were that England would fall to Napoleon within months. He shivered, and not just because of the chilly breeze.
Were he the only one involved, he might do it – let them take him away or flee on his own. But it was not just him. Elizabeth and Jenny would losetheir home, and the dragons needed their outpost here. His tenants would suffer for the lack of his landed Talent to increase the yields.
And he would never see Elizabeth again, never feel her soothing presence, be amused by her ready wit, or touch her silken skin.
But he could not make a choice which could affect the entire world based on his desire to be with his wife. The real question was obvious: what option would do the most to stop Napoleon? The mad dragon, the one who had briefly taken control of his mind, who could destroy the entire country. The government had given up on stopping the invasion. Now it was up to the British dragons, who at least were still trying.
Darcy nodded slowly, though there was no one to see him. Yes. The dragons were the only resistance left against Napoleon. Elizabeth was already firmly on their side. He would do whatever he could to help them - and hang the government.
Chapter 13
Elizabethtookadeepbreath of the cold air high above the ground. The sensation of flying on dragonback was exhilarating, though she could see nothing but the mist Cerridwen had conjured to hide their presence in the sky. It was a delightful distraction from her worries.
She had feared that Darcy's spirits might suffer over the War Office's plan to arrest him, especially since he had always been so loyal to the government. There had been no sign of distress, though, in the week since Cattermole had fled the house as if monsters were chasing him. Perhaps Darcy was simply more preoccupied by the threats from the Faerie King and from Napoleon.
Instead, she was the one who could not stop wondering when the War Office would take the next step. So she had jumped at the chance when Cerridwen suggested this special training.
Now the mist was finally clearing, just in time to spot a desolate moor not far beneath them, broken only by one huge shape. Even from thirty feet above, Elizabeth could recognize Rana Akshaya in her dragon form, looming over the heather and gorse.
Was this why Cerridwen had insisted today’s practice session should take place so far from Pemberley? Until today, they had worked a short distance from the house. There had been no need to go farther, since Elizabethwas only learning to sense the foundations, not to make changes in them. Perhaps that would be different now.
With a tilt of her wings, her dragon circled downwards and landed with a barely perceptible thump. How could such a large creature be so graceful? Elizabeth fumbled with the buckles of her harness until she could free herself from it and slide down Cerridwen’s side. The warm, blue-highlighted bronze scales slipped past her hands.
It was hard to be graceful descending from a dragon. Or perhaps she just needed a lesson in how to do so.
The wind in flight had sucked every bit of warmth out of her. She stomped her feet to get her blood flowing again. Straightening her shoulders, she said, “Now that we are here, perhaps you can tell me why we had to come so far?”
Rana Akshaya answered. “A dangerous task like today’s should only be done far from anyone who might otherwise be harmed by it.”
