Longbourn: Dragon Entail: A Pride and Prejudice Variation (Jane Austen's Dragons Book 2)

by Maria Grace

  “I go, too?” Pemberley asked loudly.

  “No my dear, it is far too dangerous. You must stay—”

  “No leave me! No go!”

  A murmur began among the dragons. Barwines Chudleigh slithered to Pemberley. “There are times all dragonsss must do what they would rather not. It is part of living under the Accordsss. Your Keepersss have a duty to dragonkind, as do you. You will ssstay here with the girl, Georgiana. Whilst they are gone, Bylock, the Ssscribe’s drake, has offered to teach you to read and write. We will also help prepare the girl to be presented to the Blue Order ssso that she might have her own Dragon Friend, or one day be a Keeper herself.”

  “But I no want her go.”

  Elizabeth laid her arm over Pemberley’s shoulders. “It will not be like last time, I promise. We will send letters, but not through the post. Walker and Rustle and perhaps even Cait will help us. I am your Keeper now, Pemberley and will never abandon you. I will always come back, even as I did this time.”

  “You did come me.” Pemberley hung her head and swung it to and fro.

  “That is right. She did, and she will do ssso again. Your Keepersss are trustworthy. Otherwise we would not ask this of them.”

  Pemberley blinked up at Chudleigh. “We have tea?”

  “Yesss, we shall have tea quite regularly. I will help you learn to use your wingsss.”

  “You fly? I want fly.”

  Elizabeth patted her shoulder. “That is something I cannot teach you. Only someone with wings can do that. You should thank Barwines Chudleigh for her kind offer.”

  “I want learn fly. Thank you much.”

  “Is the matter settled then?” Matlock asked. He did not cover his annoyance well.

  “I stay, learn write, and fly,” Pemberley called back.

  Chudleigh leaned down to Elizabeth’s ear. “She is going to be a handful.” With a wink, she slithered back to her place.

  Lord Matlock descended from his station and stood beside Cownt Matlock who sat back on his haunches and lifted his head high above the rest. “The Conclave is adjourned.”

  The Minister rang the floor gong twice. Bondsmen scurried in from all sides, escorting dragons out by rank. One came for Pemberley and, after a little encouragement from Darcy and Elizabeth, was able to lead her back to Rosings and out.

  Another Bondsman escorted them back upstairs to the street level rooms where a footman took over. “Tea has been prepared for you in one of the parlors, courtesy of Lord Matlock.”

  “How very civilized of him.” Fitzwilliam laughed and offered Elizabeth his arm.

  Darcy stepped between and offered his. She slipped her hand in the crook of his arm, leaning into his strength. Somehow it felt natural and right and very, very confusing.

  “As territorial as a dragon!” Fitzwilliam jumped back between Mary and Uncle Gardiner. “You will join us, will you not?”

  “Thank you, but perhaps I should go find Mr. Collins?” Mary glanced about.

  “I would not expect him to be released for several hours yet. Lady Astrid will be tutoring him on the basics of the Accords, particularly on secrecy. Then, I imagine Aunt Catherine will wish to discuss the hiring of a curate to fill his pulpit. You might as well enjoy tea whilst you wait.”

  “A splendid idea.” Uncle Gardiner offered Mary his arm and they followed the rest to the small parlor on the second floor.

  Afternoon sun poured through the windows, bathing the room in light and warmth. After so many hours of candlelight, it seemed bright and almost garish. Thankfully, dark woods and soft blues and golds soothed her senses. A low, round table was set with tea things in the center of the room, surrounded by comfortable chairs, interspersed with dragon perches where April, Walker, and Cait were waiting for them.

  Elizabeth went through the motions of serving tea, happy when the men launched upon a discussion as to how they might penetrate the poisoned room at Netherfield. The topic should have been fascinating to her. Usually it would be, but too many other things filled her mind.

  “Are you well, Mary?”

  Mary stared into her tea cup. “I am just so surprised by the events of the day. I never expected—”

  “Are you certain you are content with being betrothed to Mr. Collins?”

  “Indeed, I am. I can see you are skeptical, though. Do you think it incredible that Mr. Collins should be able to procure any woman's good opinion because he was not so happy as to succeed in securing yours? I hope you will be satisfied with what I have done. It is best for the family—for all of us.”

  “I would be happier knowing that the choice will not make you miserable.”

  “None of us can know the future, Lizzy. But I am not romantic, you know. I never was. I ask only a comfortable home, and considering Mr. Collins' character, connections, and situation in life, I am convinced that my chance of happiness with him is as fair as most people can boast on entering the marriage state. I have always been fonder of him than you have. Heather finds him quite tolerable. Truly it is the best solution for all of us. I might ask the same question of you though. I did not think Mr. Darcy—”

  Rustle flew in, almost toppling the perch as he landed.

  Elizabeth and Uncle jumped to their feet and steadied it.

  “Heavens, catch your breath, Rustle. It is all good news! Mrs. Gardiner will be pleased.” Uncle offered him tea from his own cup.

  Rustle swallowed a couple of gulps. “If only I had been sent in want of news, all would be well, but that is far from the case.”

  “Pray tell, what is wrong?” Elizabeth sank back into her seat.

  “In my satchel, there is a letter, sent express from your father.” Rustle turned his back so Uncle could retrieve the letter.

  He broke the seal and unfolded it. He scanned the page, color draining from his face. “Bennet writes:

  “Something has occurred of a most unexpected and serious nature. An urgent message came at twelve last night, just as we were all gone to bed, from Colonel Forster, to inform us that Lydia was gone off to Scotland with one of his officers—Mr. Wickham! At first light, I went to Netherfield, hoping that perhaps they were simply sequestered there, but to no avail. Her trunk was gone. The housekeeper was unaware of her departure, saying that Lydia had kept to her room for the last two days with a sick headache.

  “I would not trouble you simply over a possible elopement—as serious as that would be—but Lydia has lately been showing signs of starting to Hear dragons. I have been waiting to be sure before introducing her to dragonkind. Not long ago, April expressed concern over Mr. Wickham’s excessive interest in dragons, not to mention his connections to the Pemberley affair. Should he be a Deaf-Speaker, or trying to become one, any connection to a Hearer not loyal to the Blue Order could be disastrous.

  “I would go after her myself and have tried to do so. But my condition no longer permits me to ride, and even an hour in a carriage is nigh on intolerable. I must ask you, my brother, for your assistance in this matter. While it is possible this may all turn out to be naught, the risk is too great to ignore.”

  “Great heavens!” Uncle fell into his chair.

  “Was not Mr. Wickham in Brighton?” Mary whispered.

  “He was supposed to be.” Darcy slammed his fist into his palm. “This is my fault. Had I only revealed what Wickham was, apprehended him when I had the opportunity—”

  “You could hardly have done that until the egg was found—which I might remind you never happened. Instead, you had a new hatchling to care for, hardly a time that you could be away to negotiate with the colonel of the regiment to turn Wickham over to you in chains,” Elizabeth said.

  “I must find her.” Uncle rose unsteadily.

  “No,” Darcy stood. “It was my charge first. I must complete it.”

  “And I will go with you. No offense, sir, but he will find the two of us more formidable.” Fitzwilliam wore the sort of expression that would brook no argument.

  “I can manage the matt
ers at Netherfield myself, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth gazed straight into his eyes, not precisely a challenge, but—

  He nodded slowly. “Though I do not prefer to leave you alone to do it, I have complete faith in you. Will you consider taking the Darcy carriage to Meryton? Your sister and Collins, and you, Mr. Gardiner, if you desire to go as well, might all drive there together, and the coach would be at your disposal whilst you are there. Most important, you will have the ability to return to London whenever you should need.”

  “That would be most welcome.” The crest of her cheeks heated. Perhaps she should have had more faith in him. “I should leave first thing in the morning.”

  “We should not wait even that long,” Fitzwilliam said. “There is still time to cover considerable ground before nightfall.”

  “An hour to pack should suffice.” Darcy glanced at Elizabeth, his expression difficult to read.

  “I will inform Father and see you at Darcy House in an hour then.” Fitzwilliam bowed to them and left.

  In the mews behind the Order offices, Darcy handed Elizabeth into the carriage and moved to climb up with the driver.

  “Go sit with her. You are betrothed now.” Walker grumbled from his perch atop the coach.

  “I do not want to intrude. This has all been so abrupt—”

  Walker jumped closer and stared beak to nose, directly into his eyes—never a good thing from a cockatrice. “You are betrothed to her without ever having told her of your regard. If you refuse to join her in the carriage now, you are making a very public—and very stupid—statement as to having made a match of convenience and only convenience.”

  “Surely she would not think such a thing.”

  “I cannot speak for her, but they would.” He pointed with his wing toward faces in the windows watching their departure. “Rumors will begin before the coach has even turned the corner.”

  But what did rumors matter?

  “Have you any idea what Lady Catherine will do with that sort of information? The things she will say to Georgiana and—”

  Darcy climbed down and into the carriage.

  Elizabeth sat on the far edge of the seat as if expecting someone to sit beside her.

  Of course she did. They were betrothed, and it was proper for him to do so now.

  Damn it all, Walker was right.

  As usual.

  He slid onto the seat beside her, lurching ungracefully as the coach rocked into motion.

  “This is not how I would have had things.” He rubbed his hands together.

  She slid farther into the corner of the coach. “I suppose we must now make the best of things.”

  He raked his hair back from his face. “That is not what I meant.”

  She cocked her head and peered at him. Her bewildered—or was it hurt?— gaze did nothing to help matters. Nor did it improve when she turned to regard the side glass.

  Usually silence was comfortable, even pleasing to him. Why should that not be so now?

  What was he supposed to do? He had tried to speak and it had hardly been successful, but this silence was even less so.

  “Mr. Darcy, I am a very selfish creature, I suppose.” She spoke without looking at him. “For the sake of giving relief to my own feelings, I can no longer help thanking you for your unexampled kindness to my sisters. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express, but perhaps it is best this way, as my mother’s effusions might not be to your comfort. Regardless of your claim to being at fault, Lydia’s behavior is my father’s problem, not yours, and your willingness to—”

  “If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. That the wish of giving happiness to you might add force to the other inducements which led me on, I shall not attempt to deny. But your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you.” He reached for her hands. They seemed so small between his own.

  She glanced at him. Oh, the look in her eye. Was she truly so surprised?

  “I can only suspect what your feelings were towards me in Meryton. You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were then, tell me so at once. Regardless of your answer, my affections and wishes are unchanged—”

  “Your affections, sir?”

  He dragged a hand down his face. “Yes, Elizabeth, affections, of the warmest and most violent nature.”

  “And you have supposed me to be aware of this?”

  “I had hoped. You seemed so well able to identify Walker and Cait’s true intentions towards one another.”

  “They are dragons, sir, who are infinitely easier to understand than men.”

  “I know of no one else who would suggest such a thing.”

  She cocked her head and quirked her brow. “When men puff up, raise their frills, flutter their wings, change color and scent, posture and sharpen their talons, then I shall agree, they are as obvious as dragons.”

  He chuckled. “I am not so sure they do not do most of those things.”

  She rolled her eyes and looked away.

  He released her hand. “If you find our arrangement intolerable, I promise you, I will find a way to free you without harm to your reputation.”

  “I do not see how that could be possible. A woman is never set free from an engagement without damage to her reputation. And I do not see Pemberley tolerating—”

  “Is it what you want? To end our agreement?” He shifted around to stare directly into her eyes, his gut knotted more tightly it had been in court.

  “I ... I did not say that.”

  “You have said nothing about what you do want.” He pressed his knee against hers.

  She stared at her hands. “No, I suppose I have not.”

  “So tell me.” Why was it so difficult to get an answer from her?

  “It is strange to consider what I want—it has always been the dragons first.”

  “Pemberley aside, what do you want?” He leaned very close.

  Perhaps that was not a good idea. Her warmth was far too pleasing.

  She licked her lips. “I would like to become better acquainted with you, to have the opportunity to see the man that the dragons see in you. You have their respect, loyalty, and affection.”

  The tension in his belly eased. “Any man whom dragons admire you can admire as well?”

  “They are very good judges of character. Walker would not sully himself with an unworthy association. You bring buttons for Quincy and treat Blanche with the deference of a young cousin. Wellsbey would do anything you asked. Even Rosings respects you—which is saying a great deal when she feels so much less toward her own Keeper.”

  “I must hope then that you will see in me what they do. It has always been my desire to have my wife’s esteem.”

  She clutched her hands tightly, whispering, “Jane and I had always said we would only marry for love. I believe she has done so.”

  He laid his hands over hers. “I hope that you shall be able to do so.”

  She raised her eyes to his. “I do as well.”

  It was too forward, too bold, and too irresistible. He leaned in and kissed her, gently, warmly.

  Pray, let there be no doubt in her mind of the ardency of his regard.

  He pulled away just enough to capture her gaze.

  She understood. Surely she did.

  ***

  He handed her out of the carriage at Darcy House, and they flew into a flurry of preparations only barely finished when Fitzwilliam arrived to carry him off to find Lydia. He extracted a promise that she would be mindful of her safety at Netherfield, declared he would write very often, kissed her once more, and rode away with Fitzwilliam, Walker following overhead.

  Cold and numb, she instructed a maid to pack her trunks for the morning and wandered into the library. What a fabulous room, and what beastly luck there was no possible way she could enjoy it now. She fell into a chair near the fireplace, face in her hands. How was she to explain all that was happ
ening to Georgiana when she hardly understood it herself?

  She was free from Longbourn’s demands and Mr. Collins, but at what cost? Her breath caught in her throat. Never to go home again. She had no home now. If Papa was stubborn, she might never see him or Mama again. Though she would not mourn the loss of Mr. Collins from her acquaintance, she would miss Mary. And Jane, Kitty and even Lydia.

  Never would she have guessed she would end this day homeless.

  No, that was not true. Not exactly.

  Darcy insisted she consider Darcy House and Pemberley estate her homes and instructed the staff to regard her as the mistress of his home.

  Heavens above—how had it all happened?

  She was betrothed to Mr. Darcy—in front of the entire Blue Order Court and Dragon Conclave no less.

  What had she done?

  At least he was not a dragon-hating, boorish addle-pate like Collins. No, far from that, he was an honorable, kind, respectable man who wore honor and duty like his coat and cravat. And he liked her—a great deal if his kisses were to be believed.

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks. He liked her.

  What ghastly, horrid, deplorable luck that the very hour she learned of it, they would be separated with no idea as to their reunion. Was it possible to miss him already?

  What kind of correspondent would he be? At least his intentions were very good. That would have to be enough for now.

  Georgiana took the news, all of it, tolerably well. To be sure, she was overjoyed that Elizabeth would soon be her sister. As to the rest, her trepidation was tempered by Cait’s promise to carry correspondence between Meryton and Pemberley herself.

  Had it been to impress Walker that she volunteered to serve as Collins’ translator to Longbourn, or was it to answer her curiosity about the presence of a rogue dragon? Either way, for all her general air of self-importance, it was comforting to know she would have another Dragon Friend nearby.