Pemberley- Mr Darcy's Dragon
Page 10
Miss Elizabeth jumped and whirled around. “What man, I brought no one here.”
Walker launched and landed lightly beside her. He bowed, beak to the ground. “Forgive us, Laird Longbourn. I know we have trespassed, but our errand is dire. We desperately need your assistance.”
“Come forth, trespasser.” Longbourn bellowed and stomped.
The fairy dragons squawked and sped into the trees.
Darcy gulped and stood. One did not ignore a major-dragon’s commands. Squaring his shoulders, he stepped through the undergrowth, approached Longbourn and bowed, knee to the ground.
Longbourn stepped closer and rose to his full height as Miss Elizabeth and Walker jumped aside. The huge head shadowed over him, breath so hot it burned on his face. His nose wrinkled against the pungent, acrid notes of venom. Perhaps that was what burned against his skin.
“You have offended me.” Longbourn breathed heavily through his words.
Darcy bit his lip. Of course he had. He expected it with people, but how had he offended a dragon he had not even met?
“Pray forgive me Laird Longbourn. It was done in ignorance. Pray tell me how I have offended. I shall make reparations to you and your Keep.”
“Apologize to her and dance with her at the next ball.”
“What?” She and Darcy exclaimed together.
“Her offense is mine. Apologize to her.” Longbourn twitched his head toward Miss Elizabeth.
“I told you.” Walker flapped and hopped close enough to her to touch his wingtip to her skirt.
“This is absurd! How would you know about that?” she asked, looking from Longbourn to Walker to Darcy.
“You did not tell them?” Darcy’s brow knit.
“Hardly. How do you know?” She planted her hands on her hips.
Longbourn twitched his brow ridges.
The fairy dragon?
“I do not need draconic interference—”
“Protection.” Longbourn snorted.
She stomped, nearly on Walker’s tail. “Interference. I do not need it in every facet of my life. Mr. Darcy might have been abominably rude to myself and the entire community, but that is no reason to suggest he should be eaten by the local Laird.”
His face burned. His neck burned. His chest burned. Humiliation seared deeper than mere dragon breath.
“I am still offended.” Longbourn stared at her. She glowered back.
Darcy cleared his throat. “I thank you that you think my error not a capital offense, but pray accept my apologies for slighting you.”
She turned her glower on him, potent as wyvern venom.
No one, save a dragon, had ever looked at him that way.
She was stunning.
And a little frightening.
Longbourn coughed. “And?”
No. Really? A dragon cared about dancing?
No, he cared about Miss Elizabeth, passionately.
“And ... may I request your hand for the first two—”
Longbourn growled.
Overbearing, interfering lizard!
“For the supper set at the ball Bingley is planning to host at Netherfield?” Darcy bowed.
“What ball at Netherfield?” she asked.
“The one to be held at full moon next month.” Longbourn blinked slowly.
“What would you know about that?”
Longbourn shrugged his wings. “Accept the dance.”
“I do not wish to dance.”
The dragon stomped and huffed.
She returned the gesture.
A low rumbled grew in Longbourn’s throat, rattling Darcy’s bones. “I did not ask you if you wished to dance. Reparations must be made; the codes of dragon honor must be satisfied. You will dance with him.”
Something in the dragon’s tone changed, no longer playful and affectionate. This was a dragon in charge of his Keep.
“Very well. Sir, I thank you for your offer. I shall dance that set with you.” She rolled her eyes and looked away. “Are you satisfied now?”
Longbourn licked her face.
Never had his offer to dance been accepted thus. It was offensive, degrading ... and quite possibly deserved.
“Is there further reparation you require, Laird Longbourn?” Darcy asked.
“Do not offend her again.”
Walker chirruped something that sounded like agreement.
“As you say.” Darcy bowed again.
“Your business?” Longbourn settled back on his haunches.
“I came to this county in search of a dragon egg stolen from Pemberley Keep. I have reason to believe it is concealed among the militia yet to arrive. I am convinced that it is not among the troops already here.”
“You wish help in recovering it?” Longbourn cocked his head. “It is not as though I can march into the camp and demand it. Well I could. It would be satisfying. But it would be against the Accords and nearly as much of a problem as a firedrake hatching wild.”
Hot, vaguely venomous breath etched Darcy’s face.
He coughed into his handkerchief. “I do not ask your help, only your permission to be in your territory during my search.”
“I do not take kindly to trespassers, but for such an errand, I will grant permission.”
Darcy started to bow, but Walker hopped and flapped, bowing to the wyvern. “That is not all, Laird Longbourn.”
Elizabeth gasped and crouched beside Walker and offered her arm as a perch. “What is it?”
He hopped up and she lifted him toward Longbourn. The wyvern dropped his head to look him in the eye.
“Speak, small one.”
“There is something amiss in this territory.” Walker said.
Longbourn flexed his wings. “Tell me.”
“I hear a voice of a kind I do not know. I think it may be a lindwyrm.”
Elizabeth stifled a cry with her hand. “Papa has been concerned there might be an unattached dragon—”
Longbourn roared and drowned out her words. “My territory is under my control. There are no trespassing dragons about.”
“Forgive me, Laird, but a lindwyrm would present an unspeakable danger to an egg—” Darcy said.
Longbourn stomped toward Darcy. “I said my territory is secure. There is nothing unknown in my borders. Any egg here is safe. I will not have my dominance questioned.”
A drop of venom glistened on his fang.
Darcy bowed. “We meant no offense, Laird Longbourn.”
“I am offended.” Longbourn snorted and stomped back into the hillside cave.
Darcy, Walker and Elizabeth stared at one another.
“He is known to be capricious, but this is odd even for him.” She stared into the darkness.
Perhaps she expected him to reappear. But he did not.
“That was an utter waste of time.” Darcy muttered, kicking a small stone.
Miss Elizabeth rounded on him, eyes wild. “Well forgive us poor country folk for not living up to your expectations. Good luck in your endeavors. Perhaps you can manage not to destroy the entire kingdom in the process.”
She spun on her heel and stalked off. Three colorful blurs streaked from the trees to catch up. The blue one veered off toward him, streaked past his head, nipping his ear as it went past.
Darcy’s jaw dropped.
Stunning, simply stunning in her fury.
“You are a total cock up, Darcy. Bollocks for brains,” Walker squawked and flew off.
The hillside was empty and eerily quiet.
Rumblkins trotted up with a large rat, still wriggling, in his mouth. He mrowed a question, and Darcy pointed into the cave. Rumblkins rubbed against his leg, tail flicking in a gesture of thanks and he trotted inside.
At least someone was happy with him.
The following day, the ladies of Longbourn waited on those of Netherfield to celebrate the end of Mary’s and Aunt Gardiner’s ‘extended convalescence.’ Heather and Phoenix were well beyond their need for hourly feeds by then
, but Papa had insisted on the extra time. It would be best to give the new companions as much time as possible to become acquainted with each other. Not to mention it gave April and Rustle and Rumblkins more time to persuade Mama of how much she liked caged ‘birds.’ Even one as susceptible to persuasion as Mama could require some convincing when asked to accept something that might push her limits.
That forenoon, after they returned from their visit, Uncle Gardiner made a show of presenting Mary and Aunt Gardiner with a ‘present.’ Each received a ‘hummingbird’ in a pretty cage, a gift he said, from a ‘business partner’ in London.
Most likely the cages came from someone of the Blue Order who made them especially for Dragon Mates. None of the dragon-deaf members of the family seemed to notice that the cages latched from the inside.
Mama sniffed at the addition of yet another ‘bird’ to the family party. But after nearly a se’nnight for persuasion, she was also convinced that the pretty birdsong was well worth the fuss and bother of another ‘pet.’
Jane seemed a little jealous, but Kitty and Lydia were happy—probably with a little dragon assistance—that it was Mary, not them who would have the bother of a creature to tend.
The Gardiner children, particularly Anna, were entranced with their new pretty companion. Though they could not hear clearly yet, the children obviously recognized there was something unique and special about Phoenix. They treated him with special care and respect even without their parents’ reminders.
All told, the fairy dragons' introduction into family life went very well indeed.
The women of the Bingley party visited Longbourn the next day. Elizabeth dodged the fairy dragons as they zipped upstairs into the safety of their cage-havens when Miss Bingley entered the house.
There were some people that dragons seemed to like and some they did not. Miss Bingley was definitely one of the latter. The tiny dragons had excellent judgement and very good taste.
If only Elizabeth could have joined them upstairs. But, no, decorum, and Mama, insisted she appear in the parlor instead.
The ‘superior sisters’ as the dragons called them, clearly found Mama intolerable. It was quite a good name for them, superior sisters.
Botheration! Now she had heard it, she would have to be very careful not to speak it as well.
Whilst the Bingley sisters—there, she noted them correctly, perhaps it would not be so difficult—were entitled to their own opinions, it was poor form to allow it to show so obviously in their supercilious treatment of nearly the entire Bennet family. It seemed there was little at Longbourn house that could please them.
The visit was not without some bright spots. Though they did not address a single remark to Kitty or Lydia, they had the good graces to be attentive to Jane and herself, though Elizabeth loathed admitting the latter. It was pleasing that they desired to be better acquainted with Jane, but it would have been far more pleasing to Elizabeth if she could have declined her share of the favor.
Perhaps their kindness to Jane, such as it was, had a value, as arising in all probability from the influence of their brother's admiration. It was generally evident whenever they met, that Bingley did admire Jane and equally evident that Jane was happily yielding to the preference. They seemed to be very much on their way to being in love.
For Jane’s happiness, Elizabeth would learn to tolerate those who might soon be Jane’s sisters.
Somehow.
Eventually.
At the end of the customary quarter of an hour, the superior sisters—Confound it!—departed. The rest of the afternoon was spent reliving those minutes as Mama picked them apart and examined them for every possible nuance.
***
The next day, the full militia company arrived in all their pomp and circumstance. At last, Papa, with Uncle Gardiner’s assistance, could finally actively work to recover the missing egg. With any luck, they would soon find it and the querulous Mr. Darcy would be on his way back from whence he came.
Several evenings later, Papa wandered into the parlor, where Mama gathered those daughters of hers who were already prepared to depart for Lucas Lodge. To Mama’s chagrin, Lady Lucas issued the first invitations for a gathering in honor of the militia.
“Lizzy, come to the study and help me with my cravat.” He beckoned her to follow and disappeared.
“I do not understand why he needs you for such a task. Certainly my brother could assist—” Mama fluttered her handkerchief toward the door.
“I do not mind.” Elizabeth ducked out and hastened toward the study.
Uncle Gardiner closed the door behind her.
Regardless of what Mama might say, Papa’s cravat was a mess. She went to right it.
He lifted his chin. “Do not strangle me with your knots, now, though I know you will not be pleased with what I have to say.”
“Whatever do you mean?” She loosed the remnants of the knot and smoothed out the creases.
“I know you would rather enjoy this party with your friends. But, it is essential that somehow we extract an invitation from the colonel of the regiment—”
“Mail coach knot or barrel knot?” she asked.
“I prefer Napoleon style,” Papa muttered.
“That is far too casual. Mama will insist she retie it if she sees you that way. You always complain that her knots strangle you.”
Uncle Gardiner snickered.
“Do a barrel knot then. It is less confining than the other.” Papa sniffed. “As I said—”
“This is not a social engagement, but an assignment direct from the Order itself. We are to get close enough to the colonel such that one of us extracts an invitation to visit the encampment. And we must rely upon our wits and wiles alone, as we will have no dragons with us to craft any persuasions. I well understand our purpose.” She straightened the ends of the cravat and tucked them into his waistcoat. “Mama will approve now.”
“I am sure she will.” Papa’s voice softened, and he caught her elbow. “I am sorry that you have not the luxury of socializing and delighting in meeting new company as your sisters do.”
A knot, tighter than the one she tied for him, lodged in her throat. She turned aside, swallowing hard. “It is a small price to pay for the company I am privileged to keep.”
She lifted her chatelaine from her waist. The embossed seal of the Order caught the first beams of moonlight. Though it was not fashionable to wear such a practical piece with a dinner dress, she never went anywhere without it. “Few societies so readily welcome young ladies as equal partners in their business.”
Uncle coughed. “I think the dragons are more accepting than the men.”
“They usually are.” She flashed him a tight smile.
“That reminds me. I had a letter from my cousin, Collins. He shall arrive in just over a fortnight. He expressed special delight in the opportunity to come to be acquainted with you and your sisters face to face.”
She dropped her gaze and studied the faded carpet. Large dragon eyes peered up at her, cleverly woven into the background of the floral pattern. Had papa ever noticed them there?
Uncle Gardiner crossed the room toward them in heavy, almost angry steps. “Do you know anything about this man?”
“We know he is heir to Longbourn estate, I am heir to its Keeper, and Longbourn insists that we marry. What more need we know?” Elizabeth fought to keep her voice light and shrugged. “A great many marriages have been built upon even less a foundation than that.”
“I do not like this. How can you insist upon her marrying him when we know not the first thing about him?” Uncle loomed over her shoulder with an expression he might have learned from Longbourn.
“Longbourn must have a say in the next Keeper. My eldest daughter is as dragon-deaf as your sister. So it falls to Lizzy.” Papa folded his arms across his chest. “It is his right according to the Pendragon accords.”
Elizabeth bit her lip. Pray this conversation would stop, preferably immediately.
No, they were most definitely not.
“Feelings play little role in the matter.” Papa glowered at her. “It is the way things have been done amongst the Keepers for centuries.”
Did he think she had put Uncle up to broaching the topic?
“But it is not the way they are done now. Dragons must accommodate the changes in human philosophy and society. Do they not? If she were to act by your design, not even certain of the plan’s reasonableness, what chance is there for success? Is not her contentment also essential for Longbourn’s?”
“Please, Uncle.” She laid a hand on his forearm.
He covered it with his, holding it there. “She has no knowledge of him. She has read—what, parts of four letters you have shared with her, perhaps less? She has never danced with him, never dined in company with him. This is hardly enough to make her understand his character.”
“Not as you represent it. Still four letters may do a great deal.” He waggled his eyebrows at her as though asking for agreement.
She drew breath to speak, but Uncle cut her off.
“Yes, these four letters have enabled her to ascertain that they both like Vingt-Un better than Commerce. But with respect to any other leading characteristic, I do not imagine much beyond that has been unfolded.”
Papa folded his arms over his chest. “You make me sound as if I were some ogre from the previous century! I wish Elizabeth success and happiness in marriage with all my heart. But in truth, I am convinced that if she were married to him tomorrow she has as good a chance of happiness as if she were to be studying his character for a twelvemonth. Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other, or ever so similar before-hand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always contrive to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation. It is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life.”
The mantle clock chimed eight times and Mama’s voice wafted through the closed door. “It is time Mr. Bennet, it is time.”