Netherfield: Rogue Dragon: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (Jane Austen's Dragons Book 3)

by Maria Grace

  “Would that I did not have to. Truly, I regret this duty, not because I have any fondness for him but because I know that it cannot but hurt you. But whether he chooses to recognize it or not, he contributed significantly to this unfortunate affair by his own failure to follow the protocols and rules he is so fond of quoting at you.” Fitzwilliam’s lips wrinkled—there was a great deal more to his opinion that he was keeping to himself. Probably a wise choice.

  “I hate that you are right, but when you lay it out like that, I can hardly argue. I am worried for him, though. What might the Order do? If they remove him from his post, I can hardly imagine the effect it will have on him.”

  “He has been negligent, to be sure, but there has been no bloodshed, so I would be surprised to see harsh judgements.”

  Elizabeth stared at her hands. “It is just ironic he is under scrutiny for the very things he has judged me for.”

  “Once we get back to London, I expect your presence at the offices will be in high demand. Walker already mentioned Sir Edward and Lady Astrid want to speak with you regarding all that has transpired. He is particularly interested in your interventions for Cait, and she, well, you know Lady Astrid. She is interested in everything. But that is for the morning. For now, my young charge and I are tired. I had best get some sleep before he is hungry again.” Fitzwilliam chuckled as he rose, cradling the young cockatrice.

  Darcy and Elizabeth watched him leave.

  “You will stay at Darcy House when we return to London, will you not? Georgiana will be at the house—”

  “As will Pemberley! I do not imagine she would tolerate me staying elsewhere.”

  “I was not thinking of her just now.” He held her a little tighter. “You look troubled. What is on your mind?”

  She sighed and looked up at the ceiling. “Things have changed. I have changed. You bear much of the blame for that. I am not who I was before we met. It is difficult to say exactly how, but I am different, and I simply do not belong here anymore.”

  “Here, as in Hertfordshire?”

  “Yes. I used to have patience: with Longbourn and his temper; with my father and his peculiarities; and with Mary and her reluctance to step up and take responsibilities. Even with my mother and Kitty and their rather silly ways. It all used to seem so normal to me. But now, I find them all so very frustrating. Would it be horrible to say I have on occasion fantasized about knocking their silly little heads together in hopes some sense would shake loose?”

  He stifled a chuckle. She might not appreciate it.

  “All of that is to say, I could not live here again, not with any sort of contentment. You and your dragon, sir, have ruined me for lesser things, and I fear I cannot go back.” She looked up at him with a sort of serious playfulness that he could easily become accustomed to. But beneath the playfulness, there was something a little uncertain, even insecure. “I find it difficult to see myself as anything besides your wife.”

  “We have that in common. But if you ever have doubt, I expect there is a rather large collection of dragons who will testify to the same to reassure you.”

  “Are you teasing me, Mr. Darcy?”

  “Absolutely and without reservation. Have you a problem with that?”

  “Only that you are not kissing me.”

  “Permit me to remedy that immediately.”

  ∞∞∞

  The next morning, Elizabeth and Darcy scurried to return the morning room to something more usable for their party. They remove paintings from the morning room table and stacked books high on a small corner table, sufficiently out of the way to be ignored for now. After papers and maps were tucked into a drawer in the sideboard, everyone could be accommodated, at last.

  Papa sat near the book table, his eye on several volumes for further study. It would probably not be difficult to convince Bingley to allow him to borrow them, especially with a little persuasion from Heather who was very good at that sort of thing.

  Lydia sat at the far side of the table, pouting, but serving herself generously. Making up for her privations under Netherfield, no doubt. Cait perched on the sideboard behind her, dedicated to not letting Lydia out of her sight. That was worrisome. If Cait was so diligent, she must consider Lydia’s running away a serious threat. The sooner they could get Lydia to London and into the hands of the Blue Order, the better.

  Collins sat next to Fitzwilliam and Earl, offering the chick bits of kipper and ham from his own plate. Was this a normal reaction for the dragon-deaf who had witnessed a hatching? Were there any recordings of it in dragon lore?

  Mrs. Hill had demonstrated it was possible for the dragon-deaf to befriend a dragon after a fashion—had that ever happened before? Surely it must have. All it would take was a clever and persuasive dragon and a sympathetic person. Might it be possible for Jane to befriend Talia in the same way? They both had such gentle personalities; they would be good for one another. It should not be too difficult to persuade Jane that Talia was a rabbit.

  “Are you well?” Mary whispered in her ear.

  “Forgive me, just a little lost in thought.” Elizabeth took a bit of jam for her toast and passed the pot to Mary.

  “Little wonder, it has been an astonishing few days, has it not?”

  Walker swooped in through the open window and landed on the back of Darcy’s chair, a large satchel strapped to his back. “The Order requires your immediate presence in London, preferably by the end of the day. All of you.”

  “We cannot possibly leave in such short order. We have not even made arrangements for a place to stay.” Papa did not bother to turn around and look at Walker.

  “The Gardiners await your arrival. The Order asks—” the way Walker spoke the word made clear it was not a request, “that Miss Lydia be chaperoned at Darcy House and that the Collinses might assist in the effort.”

  Fitzwilliam chewed his lower lip. “They are being rather particular, are they not?”

  “You are requested to accompany Longbourn, Netherfield, and Shin-dee-a through the tunnels to ensure a safe arrival at the Blue Order offices. Earl may accompany you.”

  “How generous of them.” Fitzwilliam pushed back from the table and swallowed the last of his coffee. “I have my marching orders and will get on with it immediately. Will you bring my trunk for me, Darcy?”

  “What am I, some sort of prisoner? Have I no say in the matter? What if I do not want to go to London?” Lydia crossed her arms and settled into her chair as if she had no intention of ever moving.

  “I thought you were always in want of a trip to London.” Elizabeth looked at Papa.

  “Perhaps, but not now.”

  “You will accompany us to London.” Bennet stared at the slice of toast he buttered.

  “I do not know who these Blue Order people are, but they do not control me. I shall not go to London.” Lydia’s face wrinkled into a defiant snort that had often settled matters at Longbourn.

  Fitzwilliam slowly approached her, man and dragon making way for him as he passed. “My dear girl, you are not just a prisoner, but you are a criminal of the worst order according to our laws—laws which became yours the moment you first heard a dragon speak. You have no choice in coming to London. Your only choice is whether you shall go in a coach with your family or you shall be dragged there via the underground tunnels in a dragon’s arms. Decide now.”

  Lydia shuddered, a show of half-drama, half-dread. “I never want to be underground again. It is horrid and unnatural.”

  “Then see to it you give your sister and Darcy no trouble, or you will be taken directly to the Order offices to stay in an underground chamber until your hearing.”

  “Hearing?” She lost the color in her face. “You cannot be serious.”

  “Do not test him or the Order,” Elizabeth hissed in a whisper. “He does not exaggerate.”

  Lydia clutched at the tablecloth, voice squeaking. “What will they do to me?”

  “I do not know, but your attitude will determ
ine a very great deal. Good day.” Fitzwilliam bowed from his shoulders and turned on his heel.

  Collins leaned across the table toward Lydia. “They are not unreasonable, Miss Lydia. But they are very serious about their rules.”

  “You, too? You are part of this madness?” The horror on her face was almost laughable.

  A very odd look came over Collins’ face. “Not in the way your sisters and father are. But yes, after a fashion. Perhaps, it would be wise for us to return to Longbourn to pack.”

  “Shall I pack for you, Papa?” Mary set her napkin aside and stood.

  “There are books I need to pack myself.” Papa leaned hard on his walking stick, struggling to stand.

  “I shall come, too!” Lydia jumped up and dashed toward the door.

  Elizabeth beat her to the doorway, blocking her exit. “No, you have a trunk already packed upstairs. If there is anything else you need, Mary can bring it.”

  “There are several things I simply must have—” Lydia rushed to Mary’s side.

  Cait cocked her head. “Do not worry. I shall keep watch over her. You deserve a few moments of peace before it all begins.”

  “Mary?” Elizabeth caught her sister’s and Collins’ gaze.

  “We will keep her in order.” Mary held Lydia’s arm tightly.

  Elizabeth stepped aside and they left, Cait flapping after them.

  Darcy refilled Elizabeth’s cup. “I do not envy Cait’s task.”

  Elizabeth returned to her seat and scrubbed her face with her palms. “Perhaps Collins will make an impression on her.”

  “One might hope—not expect mind you, but hope.”

  “Do you think I will be deemed disagreeable if I insist that Lydia, Mary, and Collins ride in Papa’s coach to London? Even if they will stay with us at Darcy House, I would very much like to greet Pemberley and Georgiana without them.”

  “I am entirely in favor of the idea, though, I confess my reasons are not nearly so noble.”

  Her eyes twinkled just a bit. “Who said all of mine were?”

  By the time their carriage pulled into the mews behind Darcy House, the sun had begun its dip behind London’s tallest buildings. Georgiana, Pemberley, and Slate and Amber, the house staff drakes, tumbled from the cellar steps to meet them even before they rolled to a stop.

  Darcy handed her out of the carriage and into a two-way embrace: Georgiana on one side and Pemberley on the other, winding her neck around Elizabeth’s waist almost until she could not breathe.

  “Walker did not tell us very much, only that the whole matter had come to a good conclusion, and you would be back today.” Georgiana turned to Darcy and took his hands.

  “We will tell you what we can, but the important new is that everyone is whole and hearty, and the rogue is seeking the protection of the Order.” Tension slipped from his shoulders, and a special warmth filled his eyes.

  “Is it true that Fitzwilliam befriended Cait’s chick?”

  “Indeed he has—a lovely young fellow, to be sure. You will meet him soon, no doubt.”

  “He is a quite a changed man for it, too.” Elizabeth scratched behind Pemberley’s ears. “Not in essentials, to be certain, in that he will always be the same. But you should see the way he looks at little Earl. It is something to behold.”

  “How wonderful!”

  April peeked out from Elizabeth’s hood and shook her feathers fluffy. “My clutch will come soon. You shall be a Friend to one of them?”

  Georgiana’s eyes filled with tears that coursed unchecked down her cheeks.

  “Another fairy dragon? I like them! They tickle my nose and sing pretty!” Pemberley spread her wings with a happy little flap.

  Another dragon in the household? Just what they needed—

  “I think it a wonderful thing.” Darcy slipped his arm around her shoulder and scratched under Pemberley’s chin with the other hand. “A household cannot have too many dragons.”

  Elizabeth bit her upper lip and squeezed her eyes shut, but it did not really help. Tears trailed down her cheeks. He was right. A home could not have too many dragons, and a home built by a man who said that was precisely the place she belonged.

  Chapter 12

  Three days later, Elizabeth sat in the antechamber, waiting to be called into the office of the Minister of the Blue Order Court: Nicholas Shillingham, Baron Dunbrook. Two days ago, when they had first waited here to give testimony to Lord Dunbrook, the room had seemed far more intimidating. Large enough to accommodate a dragon of Longbourn’s size, the ceiling stared down at them with frescos depicting the establishment of the Pendragon Accords. Built into the surrounding walls, mahogany benches backed with high mahogany backs could hold a large cadre. Mirrored wall sconces above the benches poured light on wall frescos illustrating the formation of the first Blue Order court and the first Ministers of the Court who held office. Surrounded by giants of Blue Order history, it was easy to feel very, very small.

  It was the kind of place Papa would normally find fascinating. He had been fascinated by it, two days ago. But not today.

  Lord Dunbrook’s summons and the ensuing inquest had surprised Papa. He had justified all he had done as sensible and correct. When Lord Dunbrook began to question everything, he became visibly rattled and even contentious. So much so that Lord Dunbrook sent her and Papa out while he continued questioning Darcy, Lydia, Fitzwilliam, Mary and even Longbourn himself.

  Dunbrook was the sternest-looking drake she had ever seen: deep stony grey, his face appeared chiseled into a permanent scowl with a voice to match. Lord Dunbrook made a perfect match to him. Tall and broad, wearing a traditional judge’s wig, his shoulders barely fit through the door, but probably that was more about the way he carried himself than his actual size. Had he learnt that from his dragon?

  They both boomed out questions that sounded like gunfire, and no matter the answer given, their expressions insisted it must be wrong. Their manner did not change whether dealing with victim, suspect, or witness. Moreover, they did not limit themselves to a polite number of discreet questions. Nothing seemed off-limits, including a few things Elizabeth would just as soon not hear. Perhaps that was why it was said Lord Dunbrook’s wife lived separately from him. He must be quite the joy at home.

  When they had been dismissed from questioning, Elizabeth returned to Darcy House and immediately went to bed, not rising until afternoon the next day. Uncle Gardiner said Papa did not leave his room until today when it was time receive Lord Dunbrook’s decision.

  Papa shambled toward her, leaning heavily on his cane. He stopped half a step from her and stared at her with such an expression. “I told you. I would have made sure you would have been happy with Collins. I promised you that.” He sounded so hurt, even betrayed.

  The little girl within withered and fought back tears. “He is better off with Mary.”

  “I had no intention of condemning you to a miserable marriage.” He leaned over her until she felt smaller still.

  She stood and increased the distance between them. “How would you have accomplished that?”

  “I would have made sure of it.”

  “I will be happy in my marriage with Darcy. Is that not sufficient?”

  He grumbled, trudged back to the other side of the room, and resumed pacing. Apparently not.

  Huge wooden doors, carved with the crest of the Blue Order’s judicial branch, swung open, slowly, grudgingly. Fitzwilliam appeared and beckoned them inside. He looked satisfied enough, but it was difficult to discern what that might mean.

  A blue-uniformed bailiff showed them where to stand: Elizabeth beside Darcy and Fitzwilliam, all to the right, facing Lord Dunbrook’s imposing desk; Papa beside Lydia on the left, Mary and Collins slightly behind them.

  Longbourn lingered slightly behind the desk, near the tunnel that had admitted him, shifting his weight from one foot to another. He only did that when he was uncomfortable. Given the way the drake Dunbrook stood beside him, a wary eye fixed
on the wyvern, it was easy to guess why.

  Lord Dunbrook banged a gavel on his desk. Elizabeth and Mary jumped. “Testimony has been given regarding the complaints against Historian Bennet, and judgement shall be rendered.”

  Darcy slipped his hand into hers and squeezed tightly. Dear, dear man.

  “Historian Bennet, you have been derelict in your duties as a Keeper, both in caring for your dragon and in the larger responsibilities of keeping watch over the safety of the dragon state. Longbourn’s needs have been neglected. You have compromised Blue Order security by failing to report the possibility of a rogue dragon and neglecting to train your dragon-hearing daughter appropriately. As of this moment, you are relieved as Dragon Keeper at Longbourn.”

  Longbourn grumbled and muttered, rocking side-to-side a little harder, but the look on his face suggested he agreed with Lord Dunbrook. Papa bowed his head and swayed over his cane. Mary gasped and leaned hard into Collins’ shoulder.

  Elizabeth clung to Darcy’s hand, struggling to conceal a sigh of relief. Though harsh, the judgement could have been far worse—not that Papa or the Collinses would recognize that, at least not right now.

  “Mrs. Collins, you and your husband will be assigned a Blue Order steward. He will instruct Mr. Collins in the proper administration of estate matters. Mrs. Collins, you will immediately take on all dragon-keeping duties under the supervision of your steward who will ensure the needs of Laird Longbourn are properly met. Your steward’s Dragon Friend, another cockatrix, will assume the translation duties Cait currently fulfills.”

  Collins ran his finger along the inside of his cravat and cleared his throat. “How long will the steward be with us?”

  “For your entire tenure as Keeper, if necessary. Bailiff, take them to meet their steward.” Lord Dunbrook waved the bailiff into action and turned toward Longbourn. “You are to make regular reports to the Order regarding the state of your Keep. For the first two years, a messenger from the Order will be sent monthly to collect your report and to ensure you fulfill all your Keep duties, including wild dragon censuses and attending all Conclave meetings.”