Cerridwen clasped her forelegs together. “Truly? Could you help me to get the glass for making my tiles? The Dark Peak Nest does not have enough for everyone who wishes to use it, because it is so hard to trade for the sand we need to make it. Rana Akshaya says it will be easier to get supplies once we are accepted among humans again, but that will take time.”
Elizabeth had never given a thought to how Nests obtained the things they needed. Perhaps their mortal servants, the Kith, made their purchases. “Tell me exactly what you need, and I will make certain we get it.”
Cerridwen’s aura seemed to turn gold with pleasure.
Elizabeth snatched the letter from the salver held out by the butler. Frederica’s handwriting! Finally, some news!
She ripped open the seal and began to scan the contents.
Dear Elizabeth,
It has been a most interesting time in Town. I managed to call on my aunt, Lady Catherine, but unfortunately she took ill while I was there and has been in retirement ever since. There is no need to worry for her; my particular friend has been attending to her and says she is well, but unlikely to return to public life. The previous King's Mage has stepped into the role again, which means I need not stay in London indefinitely. It may be some time before I return to Pemberley, though, for my friends in Windsor are insisting I visit with them first.
Elizabeth let out a breath. Lady Catherine had been stopped! What did it mean that Frederica had met with her rather than Lady Anne, as planned? Had something gone wrong? But Frederica sounded pleased with the outcome, and she did not mention anyone being hurt.
Roderick is doing well, apart from his difficulties with his new valet. Although the man seems competent enough to me, and has certainly performed his various duties admirably, Roderick complains of him constantly. In my opinion, he simply dislikes having a valet. He will have to live with it a little longer, though, since he has several important meetings coming up which require him to put on a gentlemanly appearance. Despite his many excellent qualities, I despair of Roderick ever managing a cravat suitable for London society on his own!
William was safe! Cerridwen had said he would be, but she had still worried. Foresight could be wrong, after all. She would have to thank Frederica for finding a way to include that news without mentioning William byname. If only he could write to her directly! A letter went through too many hands, though, and the French assassins were no doubt watching the post coming to Pemberley.
What was the king doing? He must be the friend in Windsor, and why did he want them to stay?
It appears our friend Jack has some hidden talents. Talk about hiding a light under a bushel! I had no idea he was so astonishingly musical, and completely without training. He is making the rounds of musicians here, trying to find a teacher to develop his skills. Roderick, who hates music, will have nothing to do with his quest. He has loaned Jack his valet, who knows some of the basics of reading music, though it is truly expecting too much of him. I wish Roderick, who is well-trained despite his dislike for the subject, would help more, but I fear that is hopeless.
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. What in the world did that mean? A talent must mean his Talents, and it was hardly surprising Jack would be discovering new abilities, but why would William be the one helping him? His strengths were in land Talent, while Frederica and Roderick were better mages.
She must be missing something in Frederica's hidden description.
Whatever it was, she hoped it would not delay their return. William's absence was almost a presence in itself, a constant nagging awareness that he was far away. She should be used to this after all his time in France, but somehow this separation was every bit as hard.
Elizabeth gave a slight bounce to check her stance. Yes, she was well balanced, at least if she understood itcorrectly. She would find out in a moment when Jasper tried to strike her knife from her hand. “Ready,” she said.
Jasper moved, so quickly he seemed to blur, and as light as a dancer. She tried hard to follow the tip of his blade with her eyes as he had instructed, but he took her by surprise, coming from the outside of her arm and striking her hand.
She stifled a groan of pain and forced herself to relax her muscles again. The knife was still there, sitting comfortably in her grip. She had done it!
“Very good!” Jasper sounded pleased. “Now that you can keep hold of your blade, you can start using it.”
A flush of pleasure rose in her chest. After so many months of struggling with her magery lessons, it was freeing to finally succeed at something! A pity it was not a ladylike accomplishment she could boast of, but it still made her feel powerful. “How do I begin?”
He directed her to a bag filled with straw hanging from the wall. “That is the villain you are trying to stop. Your blade will be what strikes him, but the power of it should come from your whole body, not just your hand.” He demonstrated the difference.
It made intuitive sense. She flexed her arm a few times, imagined one of the French soldiers who had hunted Darcy - and struck.
Hard enough that she rebounded on her heels after.
“An excellent first try,” he praised. “You did not make the typical mistake of trying to be ladylike. You must mean to harm them, or the exercise is pointless.”
Steel entered her voice. “People are trying to kill my husband.” And it was surprisingly satisfying to stab a sack of straw.
“Good. This time try to keep your sense of the ground under you. Let your weight go on your forward foot with the strike, but not so much that you cannot keep your connection to the back foot.”
As she tried again, he shook his head. “No, like this.” His arm flashed out, his body turning behind it, and then he danced back. “You try it now.” He focused on her intently.
As she stepped in, her muscles seemed to take on a life of their own, swinging her forward, her arm coming in for the strike at an angle. As if she were trying to pierce the bag to its heart, instead of just plunging it in randomly.
Except that she had not aimed the knife that way, and strange magic was tingling through her limbs.
She stepped back and let her weapon fall to her side. “Jasper,” she said carefully, “I was under the impression you never developed your mage skills.” She had never heard of a Talent that allowed someone to interfere with another person’s movements. Was this why he won all his bouts?
