Pemberley- Mr Darcy's Dragon

by Maria Grace

  “That is a failing indeed! Implacable resentment is a shade in a character. But you have chosen your fault well. I really cannot laugh at it.” The corners of Miss Elizabeth’s lips turned down.

  Was she disappointed in him?

  Why did that knot his stomach? Or was that the effect of the venom?

  “There is, I believe, in every disposition a tendency to some particular evil, a natural defect, which not even the best education can overcome.” He shrugged.

  “And your defect is a propensity to hate everybody.” She cocked her head and lifted an eyebrow.

  “And yours is willfully to misunderstand them.”

  She opened her mouth to make a response, but Miss Bingley cut her off.

  “Do let us have a little music.” She proceeded to the pianoforte for no less than five songs, none of which were fit for dancing.

  Just as well. Miss Elizabeth was far too intriguing to risk another dance with.

  The next morning over breakfast, Jane declared she was much improved, enough so that she need no longer impose upon her friends’ hospitality. Miss Bingley did not hesitate to offer her brother’s carriage to convey them back to their home.

  Perhaps it was a good thing no one thought to ask Elizabeth her feelings on the matter. Had they, she would have been forced to say she hardly felt well enough for the ride home, regardless of how much she wished to leave Netherfield. But since she was not consulted, she said nothing, gritted her teeth through the process and leaned heavily on Mr. Bingley as he handed her up into his well-appointed carriage.

  “Oh, Lizzy, such manners and solicitude. I am so grateful for my dear, sweet friends. Have they not been everything friends should be?” Jane leaned into the side glass and watched Netherfield disappear behind them.

  Elizabeth pressed her head into the squabs. She barely ate at breakfast in hopes that she would not succumb to the urge to cast up her accounts. Pray let them stay where they were.

  Her head throbbed with a residual ache that had lodged itself firmly in place since their dragon venom encounter. Breathing still burned, with an occasional sharp, tearing sensation through her ribs. Each step she took felt as though she carried a dragon-weight on her shoulders, joints protesting with each effort. If only she might go straight to bed and not wake up until the egg was recovered and Mr. Darcy was long gone. Yes, that was a very good idea indeed.

  “Have you been taken by my cold?” Jane peered into her face.

  “I think perhaps I have.” Elizabeth threw her arm over her eyes.

  Oh, that felt better. The darkness and the pressure on her eyes eased the ache in the head.

  “Perhaps we should have stayed then? We must get you to bed as soon as we get home. You have been so good to me these past few days. I am glad I shall be able to return the favor.” Jane tucked Elizabeth’s cloak around her snugly.

  Elizabeth closed her eyes and drifted off until the carriage rolled to a stop.

  Mama met them half way up the walk, less than pleased at their return. She had meant for Jane to stay a full week complete. Somehow it was Elizabeth’s fault that Jane had recovered too soon and did not require several more days’ convalescence. Yes, yes, it was unfortunate that Elizabeth was feeling poorly, but really, she should have found some way to do so whilst remaining at Netherfield.

  Kitty and Lydia met them in the front hall, prattling about their newest gossip from Aunt Philips—several of the officers had dined recently with Uncle Philips. A private had been flogged, Colonel Forster had been married, and more officers were due any day now.

  That latter piece of information seemed like it should be important somehow. Certainly it reminded her of something she had once thought important. But it was all so unclear.

  The hall wavered, and her knees melted.

  ***

  “Lizzy, dear? Lizzy?”

  Elizabeth forced her sandy eyes open. Afternoon sunlight streamed through her window. She was in her bed, but how had she gotten there? Her normally soft sheets rasped like sand against her skin. The bountiful pillows seemed to be filled with rocks. She might as well be sleeping in Longbourn’s lair.

  Was there anything that did not hurt?

  Aunt Gardiner walked across the room and opened the window. A rainbow of fairy dragons zoomed through the window and hovered around Elizabeth.

  “She needs rest.” April chirped and flew to Aunt. “You must keep her meddling mother at bay, and see that she rests."

  Phoenix snorted. “I shall keep her away.”

  Elizabeth raised a hand for him to perch. How sharp his tiny toes were! “You are a very dear little fellow.” She stroked his head, and he cuddled into her hand. Even his downy scale feathers prickled and scratched today.

  Heather landed on her shoulder and nestled into her neck, trilling.

  “Please, dear, not just now. I should like to stay awake for just a little while longer.”

  Mary sat beside her on the edge of the bed. When had Mary come in?

  “What happened, Lizzy? You really do look a fright.”

  “It is good to know that no one will be mistaking me for hale and hearty today.” Elizabeth encouraged Heather to perch in her hand with Phoenix.

  “Do not make light of it.” April landed on the pillow beside Elizabeth. “It is a serious matter. They ought to know.”

  “What happened?” Mary whispered.

  “It is a little difficult to believe. I hardly believe it myself. I think I have been poisoned by dragon venom in one of the rooms at Netherfield. I can wholeheartedly assure you that it is far worse than any dragon lore suggests.”

  Aunt sank into the chair near the window. “Great heavens! How can that be?”

  “I do not know what to make of it. All is well now. There is no need to worry. I am simply tired, and pleased to be home. Enough of such things, though. Tell me of these darlings.” Elizabeth lifted Heather and Phoenix.

  “Heather is quite the sweetest, most beautiful creature in the world.” Mary’s eyes glittered. “I understand now why you encourage April to accompany you nearly everywhere.The children are quite fond of her and Phoenix, too. They hardly want to be out of the dragons’ sight.”

  “And you, Aunt?”

  “I find that they have become far easier to hear with practice. Rustle is quite patient with me now. He even spends time in the nursery. Moreover, he and Phoenix are striking up what looks to be a promising friendship.”

  “I would never have imagined him accepting a fairy dragon as a friend. You must be very special.” She nuzzled Phoenix. “And Longbourn?”

  Mary smiled a broader smile than she had in months. “I have been to see him nearly every day as you told me. I prepared the oil according to your recipe. Oh Lizzy, your book is wonderful. Aunt and I have been studying and copying it nearly every day.”

  “Mary is quite right. I have even shown your uncle. He is impressed and has generated quite the list of questions to discuss with you.”

  “But it is just my random collection of musings and observations.”

  “You sell yourself short my dear.”

  “It was ever so helpful to help me soothe Longbourn’s itches and moods. He has not been happy about your absence, but he has accepted me as a tolerable substitute for the interim. I suspect it is only because I knew his favorite snacks and the way to drive away the mites attacking his tail.” Mary stroked Heather’s chin. “If only he had a disposition like hers.”

  “He can be such a cross patch. I am glad he has not been too difficult.”

  “Speaking of difficult cross patches,” Aunt chuckled. “You father wishes to talk to you. I was to bring you as soon as your mother finished with you this morning, but obviously that has not happened.”

  “You should rest, not talk,” April scolded.

  “Tell Papa that. He might listen to you.”

  “I am afraid he is most impatient to speak with you about what you have found. Are you feeling strong enough? I can ask him to come up
and speak with you here if you wish.”

  “There is no need, I shall go to him.” Elizabeth struggled up from bed. The room spun a bit, then settled back to right ways up. She smoothed her rumpled dress and tucked untidy hairs behind her ears. “I look a fright, but I can make it.”

  “At least permit me to help you down the stairs.” Aunt caught her under the arm and supported her on the trek downstairs.

  Had the staircase grown as long as the grand stair at Netherfield in her absence? They paused twice for breath on the way down.

  Papa and Uncle awaited her in the study. Uncle encouraged her to sit near the fire and gave her some sort of soothing tea that felt very, very good on her raw throat. Papa offered her a lap rug and waited for her to settle in before beginning his interrogation.

  Elizabeth relayed the details of Mr. Darcy’s trip to Ware and their aborted attempts to recover the maps, at least as much as she could remember in the moment.

  “Dragon venom, are you sure?” Papa asked.

  April darted to him and hovered in front of his face. “Have you suddenly grown hard of hearing? It was venom, dried and deliberately placed as a ward against trespassers. It hangs in the air now. We cannot even enter the room. If you had asked, I could have told you that myself and spared her the trip downstairs.”

  “I thought perhaps you might know a counter to the poison, or be able to find one in all your dragon lore.” Elizabeth said softly, but it was as loud as she could speak.

  “Darcy had no ideas?” Uncle asked.

  “He tried twice more to enter, masking his face in various ways, but the venom was too potent. He has written to the Blue Order for advice.”

  “It will take them weeks to come up with anything useful! I am sure I will have something here.” Papa threw his hands in the air and rose. He shuffled to his book case. “I need the ladder.”

  Uncle brought the library steps around and climbed them to retrieve an armload of tomes at Papa’s direction.

  Papa sat at his desk and started opening the books. “You might also ask Longbourn whilst I study here.”

  “She needs to go up and rest. Do not send her for a tramp about the woods.” April stood on the page he was reading and stomped.

  Papa closed the book, sending April dodging out of his way. “You need to go to him immediately. He has been quite distraught in your absence.”

  “The ninny works himself up unnecessarily. He is spoilt by constantly getting his way. Her sister will do well enough for him. What needs of his are left unmet? She should be in bed.”

  “I understand your concerns, but he must be satisfied first, lest we find him in the cellars below the house. You know what happens when he does not get his way. I doubt anything could persuade Mrs. Bennet to ignore such a thing.” Papa folded his arms before his chest.

  “I know, Papa, Longbourn is hardly patient. I will be fine.” She pushed up on the arms of the chair, but quickly fell back into the seat.

  Why could not Longbourn be more reasonable?

  “I will accompany her.” Uncle rose and helped her up.

  “Very good. Oh, and you should know, Lizzy, we have had a letter from Collins whilst you have been away. He should arrive tomorrow.”

  “So soon?”

  Papa sighed. “Yes. The sooner he begins to learn the nature of the estate the better. I do hope you will find yourself recovered tolerably well enough to keep society with him by then.”

  “Yes, Papa.” She took Uncle’s arm and left. April followed, chittering her displeasure.

  Once they were away from the house, Uncle slowed their pace. “Are you sure you are strong enough for this?”

  “I have no choice it seems, but perhaps we might sit for a moment.” She pointed to a garden bench.

  The sunlight burned her eyes. The light, soft breeze scoured her face like rottenstone. Perhaps April was right.

  He helped her sit. “I am worried indeed, Lizzy, this is not like you.”

  She leaned back and dragged in deep breaths, though they still seared all the way into her spine. “What is to be done? I hardly think a call to the apothecary is in order. What would we tell him? That I ate a bad piece of mutton? I have faith that this will run its course and with a little time and rest, it will all be well.”

  “I hope you are correct. There have not been many cases of dragon poisonings in recent memory. You will write everything in your book, will you not?” He sat beside her.

  “Just as I write everything. I think I could hardly do otherwise. But do you really think it so significant?”

  He took her hands in his. “Yes, my dear, I do. Your aunt has shown me what you have compiled. I am deeply impressed. You have your father’s passion for lore, but with a far more practical bent. I am quite convinced that it should not be kept to yourself. With your permission, I should like to help you compile it. Then you might come to London and present it to the Order for publication among the Dragon Friends. Keepers and Mates both can benefit from your advice.”

  Her little commonplace book of dragons? Surely it could not be that significant.

  “Does Papa know of your idea?”

  “Not yet. I thought I should talk to you first. But I will approach him. He will agree with me. I am quite certain. What greater honor for him as Historian than to have you add to the body of dragon lore in a very significant way?”

  She clasped her hands in her lap. “I think perhaps he might. He does so love dragon lore. But what of Mr. Collins? He is to arrive soon. I know Papa wants to begin his own transition to Elder Keeper as soon as may be possible. That means I could easily be married by Twelfth Night. We would have to consult Mr. Collins' opinion as well. And if he does not hear dragons—”

  “Regarding that,” he squeezed her hands hard. “You can have no doubts about how I feel in regards to this match. If you were to like him, genuinely like him, then I am in no way opposed. Even if he does not hear dragons, if he is an amiable man and you truly wish for the match, then I support you, entirely. But forcing you into a match with a man who we know nothing of—except that his own father was a hateful, abusive creature who did not speak a civil word to your father for the last three decades of his life—let us just say that does not make for an auspicious start.”

  “But it is the way of the Blue Order, is it not? We trade some of our personal freedoms and preferences for our connections to the dragons.” She pressed her eyes with the back of her hands. “What choice do I have?”

  “Whilst I was in London, I took the matter to the Secretary of the Order. Things are changing, Lizzy, and even the dragons know it. Though the major-dragons may live five hundred years or more, they are coming to understand we are far more ephemeral creatures. Our society and ways change far faster than theirs. The last Dragon Conclave discussed how to manage situations like yours.”

  “I suspect that Longbourn did not attend that Conclave.”

  “Little matter, the chief dragons were all there: Buckingham was there, as were York, Clarence, Cornwall, Norfolk and Lancaster. They all agreed that they would accept the changes necessary for Keepers to wed more freely. The details remain to be sorted out, but the precedent is there. Longbourn must concede to the Conclave.”

  “I doubt he will be willing. It is hard to tell who is more stubborn, he or Papa.”

  “It is not a matter of willingness, but a matter of dragon law—or it soon will be. The letters are being written now and will be delivered soon.”

  “All the more reason for Longbourn to rush us into marriage, before the changes have the weight of law.” She pressed her temples

  Her head throbbed so loud it was hard to hear.

  “You have only to say the word, and your aunt and I shall intervene.”

  While very dear of him to offer, had he any idea of the chaos that would bring?

  “You are very good to me. But I am determined to keep an open mind and a cheerful countenance, and hope for the best.”

  “As you should. There
is no need to borrow trouble for today, is there?” He patted her arm.

  They rose and continued into the woods, slowly.

  His offer was kind and thoughtful, but he did not fully understand the bonds between a Keeper and a major-dragon. A small dragon, a fairy dragon, cockatrice or tatzelwurm might be argued with, even denied their way. But it was not that way with a major-dragon of any sort. What they wanted was what they would have, one way or another. They were stubborn on a whole different level to companion dragons and their displeasure was frightful, as was the threat of losing their friendship should they be displeased enough. Perhaps some were willing—and able—to suffer such a breach, but she was not among those strong enough for that sort of loss.

  April flew ahead of them, probably to give Longbourn a stern talking to. She was such an opinionated little thing. Longbourn might banish her from his company for months.

  What if April took a dislike to Mr. Collins ... heavens that could be a disaster! Collins could insist that she keep April contained to her cage. If he was of a sufficiently stubborn disposition, April might not be able to persuade him to change his mind.

  Elizabeth gulped. The possibility of a strong-willed heir to Longbourn had not crossed her mind until now. If he neither heard, nor was susceptible to persuasion—that was a truly horrid thought.

  No, she must not dwell on that. Not now.

  Longbourn waited for them just outside his cavern, April perched on his top-most head ridge. He snorted and stomped and roared as he saw them.

  Another tantrum? He might require a visit, but that did not mean she would tolerate his petulant games. He would offer as much respect as he demanded.

  She stopped and crossed her arms, her knees threatening to buckle. “Another fuss like that and I am going home.”

  “You see, I told you she is unwell. You unfeeling beast, dragging her out here like this.” April pecked at his head, not that he was likely to feel it through his thick hide.

  Longbourn paused and stared at Elizabeth, sniffing. His eyes bulged, and he trumpeted a sound she had never heard before. Something between a deep, brass horn and a crash of thunder.