Page 56 of Triumph at Pemberley

William sucked in his breath. “Because if he kills, he could be enslaved by the Wicked King.”

Jack nodded. “He says it does not matter that he wounded him, which was a surprise to me. And he seems to be safe regardless of how much I kill.”

“We still do not know how Napoleon does it, either,” William said. “He could not have been in the Wicked King’s thrall even after he had fought in many battles, or the Wicked King would not have had to bargain with my mother to deliver the bespelled ring to him.”

Frederica said decisively, “We need answers. Theorizing was fine when we were sitting in the Pemberley drawing room, but now we are in battle. It is time to directly ask the dragons, even if they do not wish to speak of it.”

“Agreed,” Jack said. “But healing the wounded man must come first. We need Gentiane.” At least he did. Sometimes he felt as if the dragon was the only thing keeping him sane these days.

Chapter 23

“Jack, stop it!” Frederica grabbed her cousin’s shoulders and shook him, ignoring the shooting pains up her arm from the intense magic exuding from him. “Roderick is not here, and I cannot find you if you are lost in the land. Stay here with me! Stay here, damn you!”

It had been two days since Darcy left, and less than a quarter hour since Gentiane had warned her that Jack had been taken by his bond again. Only a few minutes since she had discovered him in his tent, staring blankly into space and unable to speak a word.

Jack blinked and his eyes came back into focus. “Language, Freddie,” he said with just a hint of amusement.

She released him and rubbed her arms until the tingling left her fingers. “I will swear like a sailor if it keeps your mind above ground!” she snapped. “We cannot afford to lose you.”

Rolling his shoulders, he said, “I must go. Another landing.”

Not again! “Can you ride?”

He flexed his hands. “I think so.”

“Good. I will ask them to bring your horse.” She hoped a saddle was enough to protect the horse from his Talent. Otherwise he would be thrown before they went ten feet.

Richard, a compass in hand, all but shouldered her out of the way. “Where are they?” he growled. “Can you point?”

She shoved him back, on general principles. Little sisters could not afford to just accept that kind of thing.

He ignored her, of course. As Jack stuck his finger out, Richard consulted the compass. “Southwest. Could be Rye, Hastings, even Eastbourne.”

“Where the marsh ends and meets the land,” Jack said hollowly, his gaze looking far again.

“Stop it!” she shouted. “Richard, swear at him. That worked last time.”

Her brother let loose with an impressive string of profanity, which Frederica immediately committed to memory for future use. Especially because it had worked.

“Now, get moving,” she ordered. “Do not think about what is happening.”

“Between Rye and Hastings, at a guess,” Richard said. “I will tell the officers to send the men.”

“You will ride ahead with us, will you not?” Frederica asked, practically pleading. She did not want to be alone in the middle of nowhere when Jack was like this.

He nodded quickly, and then left the tent.

Someone entered behind him. “All well, yer ladyship? I heard you shout.” It was her new shadow, Sergeant Sutton, who had risen from his sickbed to appoint himself her bodyguard. With Jack’s enthusiastic support, of course. All these men who worried about her being alone in an army camp, as if she could not defend herself with her Talent! As if a one-armed guard would make a difference. Still, she appreciated having one person who thought she could do no wrong.

“All is well. We will be riding for Hastings right away.” Now she could feel it, too, just a trace of where the invaders were. She had always been terrible at geography, but since awakening Jack’s Bond, she could tell these things. “Damn it, Jack! Keep your feet moving! Talk to me!”

This was going to be a very long journey.

Frederica fumed from her place a few hundred feet from the shore and behind an old earthen bank. How dare Jack go off to battle the French and leave her behind? ‘Keeping her in reserve,’ indeed! Especially when he decided to sneak up on the invaders with only Richard and a handful of mounted guards instead of waiting for the rest of the militia to arrive. Men were so stupid!

The earth rolled under her. At least this time she had known to sit down before Jack started whatever he was doing. He had knocked her over quite enough, thank you. But what was he up to? And there were no signs of battle yet, no gunfire, just distant shouting in French.

Then there was a roaring sound, and the shouts turned into screams. Frederica stiffened. Is Jack safe? she asked Quickthorn.