Page 139 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
47
REUNITED
Our horse plodded deeperinto the woods. I was riding in the cart and driving it—something I had never done before, but it was simple enough with a single horse in harness. Mr. Wellesley walked alongside.
I should say, Lord Wellington. He was an earl now. At this pace, he would be the Duke of Wellington before long.
A complication occurred to me. “Will they not have heard your gunshot?”
“We were over the hill from their encampment. Without line of sight, a gunshot is a rambling echo. If they noticed at all, the direction will be unclear. But we are wise to move on.”
“I neglected to thank you for my rescue.”
“You are most welcome. You were doing quite well on your own. What do you call those little draca?”
“I have no idea. I did not know such things existed.”
“Nor did I.” There was a pause. “So, you summoned them, unaware of their existence, and they defended you?”
His tone was factual, but I hesitated, remembering the military’s desire to use draca in war.
After the silence dragged, he added, “Of course, I shall respect your privacy in this matter.”
“I am sorry to appear reluctant. I have been accused of witchcraft twice in the past week.”
“Then, in your position, I would be reluctant myself.” He spoke as if accusations of witchcraft were no more shocking than being criticized for an unfashionable hat.
“Have you seen Mr. Darcy?” I asked.
“Yes. He and I are partners in this adventure. He is unhurt. We should meet him at our destination.”
“Thank goodness.” A tension I had not recognized drained from my shoulder blades.
“You are not the only one to have an exciting day,” Lord Wellington said cheerfully. “Men arrived at Pemberley and took Darcy at the door. I am embarrassed to say I was enjoying a soft-boiled egg at the time. Hearing the violent invasion of many armed men, I retreated to the cellars. I armed myself with a bung puller—rather like a large corkscrew. Then fate intervened, and Darcy arrived with proper weapons.”
“Proper weapons held by his three guards?”
“Thatpart was inconvenient. How do you know of the guards?”
“I spoke with… the men by the lake.” I balked at naming my sister as a collaborator.
“Interesting. Did you learn anything more?”
“You will find it incredible. They are French soldiers, here on Napoleon’s orders. They wish to bind draca to a French wyfe. They married three couples by the lake.”
“I watched.” His tone was bemused. I wondered if he observed the post-ceremony activity. “Who was the young lady in black?”
I licked my lips, stalling. “Which young lady?”
“The lady treated by the Frenchcapitaineas a superior, which is a peculiar military organization. The lady with whom you spoke for a considerable time.”
His tone was not accusing, but it was exact. I was foolish to think I could conceal information from an officer who both employed and interrogated spies.
“She is my sister Lydia,” I said.
“Why is your sister in a position of importance with invading French forces?”
“She has unusual abilities. Not unlike mine.” I would not condemn her without defense. “Lydia is only sixteen, and recently married. Her husband is George Wickham, a rogue who has drawn her into some dishonest scheme.There are more than French soldiers here. Wickham has recruited English thieves or deserters to help him.”
