The lake reflected Pemberley’s manor house perfectly. It was a serene sight, at least until a dozen riderless horses came racing around it, headed directly towards their small party.

Elizabeth Darcy caught her breath, but not in fear. What a vast improvement this illusion was over her husband’s early attempts at horses! Roderick was right; something had fundamentally changed in Darcy’s ability to cast. And just in time, since all too soon everything would depend upon his illusions – including his life.

Granny eyed the horses critically. “Not bad,” she said. “Still, they could be better. Come here, young man.”

Darcy pursed his lips to dismiss the illusion, and the horses vanished. His clenched jaw hinted at his displeasure over Granny’s reaction, but he approached her chair. “As you wish, Lady Amelia.”

“Someday I will convince you to call me Granny,” the old lady grumbled, which elicited a small smile from Darcy. “But not today. Lean down, so I can speak in your ear.” When he obeyed, she cupped her hand so Elizabeth could not even see her lips move.

What was she telling Darcy that was such a secret?

Darcy straightened abruptly, his cheeks staining with red. “Madam!” His exclamation was a reproach.

Now Elizabeth’s curiosity was racing faster than the horses. Her husband almost never blushed.

“Oh, hush,” Granny said irritably. “Half a million English soldiers dead in Europe, and you are worried about your fine manners? This will help you stop Napoleon. And for some reason, my great-granddaughter wants you to come back to her alive afterwards, so pray do as I say.”

His color still high, Darcy glared at her, but then he closed his eyes in an obvious attempt to master himself. “Kindly give me a moment,” he said in a clipped voice.

“Take as much time as you need,” said Granny expansively, her lips twitching.

What in the world was going on? But then Darcy turned to her, his expression unreadable. No, not unreadable – she would know perfectly well how to interpret it if they were alone in a bedroom, but what did it mean here when his eyes turned smoky and his gaze burrowed deep within her? Now it was her cheeks that were growing hot.

Then he flicked his wrist, the way he always did when casting an illusion, but without looking away from her. And she was just as caught as he was, desire rising in a hot current and prickling at her skin.

“Much better!” crowed Granny. “Look at that!”

Her words broke into the odd tension between them, and then Elizabeth gasped. The horses were back, but this time they were charging uncontrollably, not merely running. One tossed its head as if maddened, and steam rose from the nostrils of another. The very sight of them made her heart pound.

Darcy’s mouth hung open, as if stunned by the illusion he had created. He moved his hand again, and the rampaging herd veered off to circle the lake. “Roderick never mentioned that technique.” His voice was half-strangled, half-accusatory.

Granny sniffed. “It is useless to anyone who cannot entwine their magic with a dragon companion, which means almost everyone. My late husband chose not to share with others that small detail of how he re-learned to use his Talent after marrying me. At least Roderick knew to teach you the basic method.”

It was a good reminder for Elizabeth. Darcy would be the one facing the desperate dangers in France, but her abilities as a dragon companion could help him succeed. And perhaps even survive.

He frowned. “This is not a good time for me to start my training anew, but I cannot deny it is effective.” He looked at Elizabeth, his eyes drifting down her body in a way that hardly seemed appropriate in public, and then he cast again.

There were no horses this time. He must have created some sort of illusion, though. Elizabeth searched the scene before her. A kestrel circled above them, but that had to be real, since she could feel Cerridwen’s unmistakable presence in the back of her mind. Had those two swans on the lake been there before? Elizabeth could make out their wake rippling through the water, and an illusion of moving water was far beyond Darcy’s abilities – or so she had thought.

“Surely those swans are not yours?” she asked hesitantly.

Darcy rubbed his hand over his mouth. “I thought it would not work.”

Whatever this new technique was, Elizabeth wanted to learn it. But then Cerridwen stole her attention away, plummeting towards her in a steep dive. A moment later the bird landed in front of her and transformed into her beloved dragon.

It still hardly seemed possible, that her magical falcon had turned out to be a dragon! It was good to see her, too. Since Granny had lifted the years-long Silence that barred Cerridwen from the company of other dragons, Cerridwen had spent every waking moment among her fellows at the nearby Nest.

Elizabeth laid her hand on Cerridwen’s chest, letting the heat and powerful magic in the lustrous blue and bronze scales warm her, and spoke to her silently. I had not expected to see you so early, dearest.

Cerridwen’s aura spilled grumpiness. All the dragons are upset about something, and they will not tell me what. They say I am not one of them yet.

Poor Cerridwen! She had been so glad to finally be with dragons again, after giving them up to stay with Elizabeth, and now this. Had she done something to upset them?

Although Elizabeth had not meant to send that, Cerridwen often picked up on her unspoken thoughts. No, they say it has nothing to do with me. But I do not like secrets. If Cerridwen had been human, she would have been pouting.

Elizabeth put her arm over the dragon’s shoulders affectionately. Neither do I, and I am glad you came here instead. I will always tell you anything you ask.

~~~

Darcy studied the swans in shock. How could they possibly have turned out so well? It was a powerful tool that Lady Amelia had taught him, as shockingly improper as it might be. The question was how best to use it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hoofbeats and wheels on gravel. Real ones, not illusory this time. He shaded his eyes with his hand to see a carriage was coming up the drive, the top loaded with trunks and packages, as if the occupant planned on an extended stay. Could Elizabeth have invited someone without telling him? Then the answer struck him.

How could he have forgotten? It had not even been a fortnight since he had called on his sister in London and insisted she visit Pemberley. But then he had come home to the discovery that there were dragons in England, like the murderous ones who had killed his brother Jack in Spain. And one of them was in his own drawing room, bonded to his wife. Everything else, including Georgiana’s arrival, had flown completely out of his head.

Now she was here, and he had not even warned Elizabeth, much less the staff.

The driver of her coach was staring at him in absolute horror. Or, more specifically, at the dragon just a few feet away.

With a quick excuse to Lady Amelia, he set off for the coach at a run. He had to get there before Georgiana spotted Cerridwen.

His sister was already stepping down from the carriage by the time he arrived, her face wreathed in smiles as he came into view. She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest, as if she still feared she might never see him again. Just as she did after every separation, no matter how short.

Darcy hugged her. “I hope your journey was easy.” Especially as the situation was about to get complicated. She would not take it well that he had forgotten about her arrival.

“There were no problems,” she said softly. “It is good to see you.”

“I am glad you are here,” he said, a slight prevarication, but well meant. “I have a great deal to tell you about.”

She stepped back, straightening her bonnet. Her gaze drifted past him to the figures by the lake. “I am sorry. I did not mean to take you from your company.” Then her eyes widened, and she gave a little shriek. She must have seen the dragon. Why had he not spoken faster? He caught her arm. “All is well,” he said soothingly. “I know it is a shock, but I can explain.”

She pulled away from him. “I want to go back to London. This instant!” And before he could stop her, she pushed past her companion and hurried back into her carriage.

Damnation. This was worse than he had thought. He clambered in after her. “Georgiana, listen to me. There is nothing to fear. Cerridwen – that dragon – is kind-hearted and gentle. She will not hurt you.”

“But what if she can tell?” his sister whispered.

Not this again! “No one has ever been able to do so before. Why should this be any different?”

She curled herself into a ball on the bench, her knuckles white. “Because they are…” She took a deep breath. “In the old stories, dragons could always discover people’s secrets.”

This was difficult. “I am not an expert on dragons.” To say the very least! But he could hardly reassure her that Cerridwen would not touch her mind, when he knew full well that Georgiana would be bound against revealing the presence of the dragons. Lady Amelia’s dragon, who was to arrive the next day, might not prove as trustworthy as Cerridwen. “But I think it perfectly safe.”

“I do not want that dragon to see me,” she begged. “May I not simply return to Town?”

“But you just arrived. Would you not like a little time together first? And I would dearly love for you to meet my wife.” How would he explain it to Elizabeth if Georgiana left without a word to her?

“I would not have come at all if I had known!” she cried. “Of course I want to see you, but not like this. And you have guests.” She said it as if he had invited horrific monsters.

“Only Elizabeth’s great-grandmother from Wales, and her friend Roderick, who is training me in illusion-casting.” This was not the moment to bring up that Lady Amelia was a Fitzwilliam by birth. “And Cousin Frederica, who is staying at the Dower House, since her Talent does not allow her to be close to me. You need not spend time with any of them if you do not wish it.” It might in fact be easier if Georgiana kept to herself, away from the constant discussions of dragons, Nests, and defenses against Napoleon.

“Can I remain in my room? And would you ask the dragon to keep away from me?” Tears began to run down her cheeks.

He could not bear it when Georgiana cried. Perhaps if he gave her a little time, she might realize the dragons would have no interest in her. “I will ask Cerridwen to keep her distance from you. She is hardly ever here these days, in any case.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I am sorry to be such trouble.”

He took her hand and held it, wishing he could soothe her anxieties. But that seemed like a hopeless task.

~~~

Elizabeth watched with amusement as Lady Frederica Fitzwilliam, followed by Roderick, made a beeline for them as soon as Darcy had turned his back. Frederica could never resist an opportunity to deluge Granny with questions about dragons and magic. How long had she been hovering about, hoping Darcy would step away so that she could come closer without suffering the usual mage repulsion?

“What was it you told Darcy to do?” Frederica demanded of Granny.

The elderly lady snorted. “Nothing you could use, young lady! That technique will only work for Darcy.”

“It would still be interesting to know,” she coaxed.

Granny shook her head. “Not this one, child. Some things should remain private.” Then her wrinkled face dissolved into a smile, taking any sting from her words. “Those swans look quite well on the lake, do they not? The last time I came to Pemberley, nearly eighty years ago, it was a muddy stream with dozens of workmen digging. Now you would never know it is not natural. I would think the lake an illusion, too, if I did not know better.”

“Perhaps you could cast an illusion like that, but any image of water is far beyond me,” Frederica said ruefully. “Roderick told me you can cast a waterfall, but I can hardly credit that.”

Granny’s face was wreathed with smiles. “I cannot resist a challenge.” Across the lake, the field of daffodils was suddenly replaced by a rock face, with a narrow stream of water tumbling down into the water below.

Elizabeth studied the illusion. Every detail was there, from the sunlight glinting on the falling drops to the arc of ripples crossing the lake from where the water cascaded into it. It was completely believable, except where the ripples passed straight through Darcy’s illusory swans.

“Astonishing,” Frederica breathed.

With a sly look, Granny said, “You have magical Talent enough, yet you are unable to cast an illusion of water. Is it your lack of ability – or a lack of proper training?”

Elizabeth winced. Even though Granny was speaking about Frederica, Elizabeth’s ability with illusions had proved to be disappointing. It was hard, after years of priding herself on her mastery of other magical skills. Of course, her training had been non-existent until recently.

Frederica flushed. “You will have to blame me, since the King’s Mage taught me herself.”

Granny sat back in her chair with a pleased expression. “The very same who gave Darcy his first lessons, and yet Roderick tells me he went about illusions completely backwards, using his head and not his heart.”

Frederica leaned forward eagerly. “What does that mean, casting with your heart? Can you teach me how? Or will this only work for Darcy, too?”

Cerridwen bumped against Elizabeth’s shoulder, no doubt bored with this conversation about human mage Talents. “Who is in that carriage? I have already put a binding on the two men outside it so they can tell no one of my existence.”

“I was not expecting anyone, but I should go see who it is.” Elizabeth shaded her eyes to study the new arrivals, but she could make out no details. “Roderick, I will hold you personally responsible if Frederica exhausts Granny with her questions.”

The Welshman laughed. “As if I could stop her! Fortunately, Granny does not need me to defend her.”

But Granny was looking at Frederica with approval. “Come, girl, sit down with me, and we will see what you can learn.”

Frederica did not need to be asked twice.

Elizabeth left her to it, but halfway to Darcy, she stopped in her tracks at the sight of the woman taking his hand to descend from the carriage. What was Lady Anne Darcy doing at Pemberley? Darcy’s mother, the distant, powerful King’s Mage, who seemed to care for nothing except finding and breeding new mages. And to suddenly appear without any warning? Did she think everyday manners did not apply to her?

Then a chill crawled up her spine. Could Lady Anne have discovered what was happening at Pemberley? Had someone managed to get word to her about Cerridwen, or worse, about Granny? Frederica was bound against mentioning dragons, but she could have sent a letter telling her former teacher that she must pay an urgent visit here. Surely Frederica would not have betrayed her that way! The very thought made her stomach churn.

Then Darcy put his arm around Lady Anne, who leaned against his shoulder. No, it could not be! The woman might look just like Lady Anne, but the King’s Mage would never appear in public in a simple dress and her bonnet askew, with wisps of golden hair escaping in every direction. Nor would Darcy have that protective look towards his mother, who needed no one’s protection. And the King’s Mage would never, ever have a tear-stained face.

Still, the resemblance was remarkable. Not merely the same hair color and height, but identical features, as if they had been cast from the same mold. This one was just a girl, though. She had to be Darcy’s sister – and she was clearly distressed.

A crying girl appearing unexpectedly was a different story than the King’s Mage coming to discover their secrets. Elizabeth’s fear and anger evaporated as she continued forward with a welcoming smile, even though the timing for this visit was unfortunate. She had wanted to meet her new sister, but now they would have to spend their evenings speaking of trivialities instead of dragons and the war. There was nothing to be done for it, though.

As she approached, Darcy caught her eye with a slight grimace, and his voice spoke in her head. I am sorry. I found out she was coming when I was away. I meant to tell you when I returned, but it slipped my mind when everything happened.

Everything, no doubt, meaning his discovery that Cerridwen was a dragon, and their subsequent fight over her. At least that was behind them now, thank heavens! Making up had been sweet indeed.

Darcy said, “Georgiana, dearest, may I introduce you to my wife?”

The girl released Darcy with apparent reluctance. She turned to Elizabeth and curtsied, the tearstains even more apparent now.

“Welcome,” Elizabeth said. “I am so pleased you could join us here. Your brother has spoken of you with great affection.”

Miss Darcy glanced at her brother nervously. “I am happy to make your acquaintance.” At least her voice was completely unlike her mother’s, quiet and hesitant instead of self-assured.

Darcy cleared his throat apologetically. “We have encountered a slight difficulty. My sister, as it turns out, has a deep fear of dragons. Would it be too much to ask Cerridwen to keep her distance from Georgiana during her visit?”

“I will speak to Cerridwen,” she said. Did the girl know her other brother had been killed by a dragon? It was a well-kept secret that dragons had caused the massacre of English troops at Salamanca, but both Darcy and Lady Anne knew the truth. Perhaps one of them had told her, or she might simply be afraid of all strange creatures.

“That would be helpful,” Darcy said. He nodded to a dark-haired young woman who was now descending from the carriage. “May I present Miss Lowrie, Georgiana’s companion?”

Elizabeth exchanged a curtsy with the newcomer. Miss Lowrie appeared only a few years older than Miss Darcy, certainly younger and more attractive than Elizabeth would have expected for a hired companion. She glanced at Darcy, surprised that he had not insisted on the traditional widowed lady in her later years. It was unlike him to defy convention that way, especially when it came to his younger sister.

“Oh, yes, brother,” Miss Darcy said. “I told Belinda that she could pay a visit to her family while I was here, but she insisted she must speak to you first.”

“Rightly so,” Darcy said. “I have no objection to your plans, Miss Lowrie, but I am pleased you consulted me.”

“I thank you. If it is no trouble, I will stay here tonight and set out tomorrow.” A flush of color in her cheeks accompanied her words. Clearly the prospect excited her.

Miss Darcy tossed her head. “Which will give you time to tell my brother everything I have done since you reported to him last.” Despite her words, the girl seemed more amused than disturbed by the prospect.

Miss Lowrie’s dark eyes twinkled. “That is what companions do.”

“You must be longing to refresh yourselves,” Elizabeth said. “Would you care to come inside?”

After the two ladies were led upstairs, Elizabeth asked Darcy, “Will she be offended to discover I have limited time to provide her with companionship?”

“Georgiana? Not at all. She prefers to keep to herself. She spends most of her days practicing her music. Miss Lowrie’s family is one of our neighbors, so I expect they will still call on each other.”

Elizabeth took care with her words. “Miss Lowrie seems very young to be a companion.”

He shrugged. “True, but she has known Georgiana all her life, and is one of the very few people my sister trusts. That is more important to me than her age.”

She debated asking him more, but she had already learned that he did not like to talk about his sister. Instead she said, “What was it that Granny told you to do? It made such a difference in your casting.”

Once again, he flushed, raising her curiosity to a feverish level. “Perhaps you should ask her.” But he must have seen her outraged look, for he added, “Ask me tonight, when we are alone.” And that smoky look was back in his eyes.

“Promises, promises,” she teased.

He raised her hand and, turning it over, pressed a lingering kiss to the inside of her wrist that sent a spiral of desire down her arm. “I always keep my promises.”

The Magic of Pemberley is Book Two of the Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mage trilogy.