Page 114 of Triumph at Pemberley

A fae burrow? Jack stared around him curiously, half-stooped to avoid banging his head on the roots and rocks that made up what passed for a ceiling. It seemed perfectly in keeping with the rest of the night. “How…?” he asked.

“The fae here have been generous enough to help us.” The dim light from the small hearth showed Mrs. Hartung rubbing her cold arms.

He could see no fae, but that meant nothing. He guided her over to the fire. “Come warm yourself.”

“Happily.”

The shock of it all was starting to wear off, leaving only his growling belly and dry throat. “Is there anything to drink here? I have had nothing all day, since they were drugging it.” And very little to eat, either, just in case, but it seemed impolite to ask for food, despite the tempting smells of whatever was cooking over the fire. How did they manage to have a fire underground, anyway? There must be a hidden chimney somewhere, or perhaps it was more fae magic.

A small tankard, sized for fae hands, wafted its way to him, followed by a pitcher. So they were not alone, then. One more strangeness for this uncanny night, as if finding himself in a fae burrow was not odd enough. Jack drained it of the small beer inside and refilled it.

“How did you come to find this place? Or was it Gentiane’s idea?” he asked.

“Mine. I have always been on good relations with the lesser fae. The first time I met your brother was in a similar burrow, when a fae had fetched me because he needed a human healer. It seemed a wise place for us to hide for the next few days.”

“A few days?” He shook his head. “Impossible. I must get back to the fight.”

The lines of her mouth firmed. “Not until you have sweated the rest of the laudanum and calendula out. It will take that long to be fully yourself again, if they were giving you half as much as Gentiane thinks. You cannot take risks until then.”

“I feel perfectly well. I drank nothing all day.”

“You are not yourself yet. You have not asked me for any news, nor even noticed my improper attire,” she teased.

Oh, he had noticed her thin shirt and breeches. Holding her in his arms on Gentiane, he had felt every soft curve and luxuriated in her embrace. Even when the dragon had stopped briefly to let them move to the harness on his back, he had kept an arm around her. And hated giving it up when they landed.

Gently she said, “Gentiane agrees with me. It will give any search parties time to pass. They will be hunting me, too, as soon as they discover I am missing.”

Jack frowned. That settled it. Without Gentiane’s help, he could not get far. Where were they, anyway? He sank his Talent into the earth around them and searched. Somewhere west of London, perhaps northern Hampshire. And those damned invaders were still polluting the land to the east. The Bond wanted to fight them this very minute.

He knew how that would end, though, so he tamped it down, promising to return to it later. “I do want to know what has happened. I have had no news since I was captured last week.” Perhaps she was right about the laudanum. That should have been his first question.

“It has been almost a fortnight,” she said gently. “Napoleon’s troops have advanced, but not yet managed to take London. Rumor has it the king and the government have fled. There is little factual news, only gossip.”

London. “The children!” Fear spiked into him.

“Safe at Pemberley with your brother, though everyone believes I sent them back to Prussia.”

Of course she would not abandon them, even for his sake.

A bowl of stew appeared before him, and he fell upon it hungrily. The spicing was odd, but not unpleasant. “Excellent food, too, from our gracious host.” Two years among dragons had made it natural not to thank a fae.

She pulled out a pair of woolen socks from a small satchel and began to slip them over her feet. Her bare feet. Good God, how had he missed that?

“Your feet must be freezing!” He could not take his eyes off her delicate instep.

“Gentiane did something to keep them warm, but it is wearing off now. We did not want to risk anything getting in the way of your reaching your bond. Just think, how many people can say they stood barefoot on the head of a dragon in flight!” Her expression was bright.

“You were not frightened?” How could she have taken such a risk?

“Of being captured, yes. Gentiane said he would not let me fall, and I believed him. Though I will admit to feeling seasick.”

It suddenly struck him what she had done. “You are making a habit of saving the lives of the Darcy men.”

She paused to touch his shoulder lightly. “Like most people, I try to do the right thing when the chance arises.”

“Even when it puts you in grave danger from Napoleon.”

A shadow crossed her face. “My husband died because Napoleon forced him to fight his own relatives. I have a score to settle with him.”