by Maria Grace
“No, it has never happened to me before.” She panted heavily. “And I would be quite happy if it never happened again.” Sweat trickled down the back of her neck, and she shivered.
“It seems you handled it quite masterfully.” He stroked his knuckles along his jaw, shadows from the windblown clouds playing across his face.
“Then it is by luck alone that I happened into the right thing.”
“You said something about a cockatrix. Might you introduce me to her?” There was something disconcerting in his eyes.
“She … she is accepted by Kellynch but does not wish to be widely known. Perhaps at another time, I might ask her permission to make an introduction, but I do not think she would be amenable now.”
“And that matters?”
“Do you wish to have acquaintances force upon you?”
“I had no idea such things mattered to the creatures.” His lips wrinkled into a faint sneer.
“Courtesy is appropriate toward everyone in society.” How could he not understand such a basic notion?
“Then I will contain my disappointment. You were quite impressive just now. Tell me, do you show the same mastery of the estate dragon as you did that one?”
“Hardly, I have not even met him. One does not wake a sleeping dragon, you see.” She met his steady gaze.
“I did not. That is useful to know. It seems there will be no introductions today. Will you at least show me the lair?”
“I will, but pray do not ask me to take you inside. I think I have had enough of dealing with dragons today.” Enough for an entire month at least.
“Very well.” He offered his arm, and she took it.
Chapter 11
It was not like walking on Wentworth’s arm—his was strong and warm and steady. Secure and trustworthy. Mr. Elliot was stiff and well—very proper and cool. But she needed the support and could hardly complain about what was offered, meager and unsatisfying as it might be. Would marriage to him be like this?
The path to the lair loomed a bit darker and more foreboding than it was the last time when she and Lady Russell had come. The canopy of hardwood limbs—surely, they leaned closer and heavier than before. Above them, dark clouds gathered, not quite ready to rain, yet. But soon. No birds sang in the trees, and nothing small and furry and warm-blooded scurried about, almost as though they knew a hungry, black predator was loose in the woods.
A shiver snaked down the back of her neck. Hopefully Lady Russell would agree she had handled the matter correctly or at the very least reassure her she had not made a total cake of things.
The trees parted to reveal the vine draped hillside. “There.” She pointed. “The opening is behind the vines. There is a long tunnel to his den.”
Mr. Elliot stared, shaded his eyes and squinted into the viney curtain. “Very interesting. Do you know if it is a single chamber, or many in that cavern?”
“I am not sure, but it is possible there are many. Why do you ask?”
“Just curiosity. There is little written, at least that I have found, on dragon lairs. Knowing what is part of the estate seems appropriate. In that vein, have you ever seen the Blue Order charter that assigns your family’s lands to that dragon? I would like to know the legal obligations the estate has to the beast we are burdened to support.”
“As I understand, our family was assigned to the dragon’s lands.” She tried to sound tentative and meek, but there was nothing tentative about it—the Pendragon Treaty and Accords stated it very clearly.
“Pish posh, scaly old lizards do not have precedence. They owe it to us for allowing them to live. If you ask me, they should be asked to pay for the privilege.”
Best ignore the latter remark altogether. “I do not know that there is a copy on the estate. Would not the Blue Order keep such a thing?”
“I expect you are correct, but I would rather not trouble their record keeper if it is something that I can lay my hands on here.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the manor.
“You might ask Father. He usually keeps important papers in a locking box somewhere in the house. What do you—”
“I hate to trouble him since he is so averse to all matters related to the Order. Perhaps you ….”
“I told you, I do not know where it is kept. You heard that he has no wish to discuss such things with me. If you want to know more, you must ask him yourself. What do you wish to learn?”
“Of course, forgive me. Shall we return to the house?” He offered his arm again. “How do you feel about dragons, Miss Anne?”
She shook her head and began walking toward the house, arms around her waist, stomach churning. “They seem decent enough creatures all in all, though I am barely acquainted with the Blue Order world. Forgive me if I observe that you do not seem well-disposed to them.”
“When you get to know the Order, you will find there are more who believe as your father and I do than you would imagine.” Could he be right? Had Lady Russell any idea of his opinions?
“I am surprised. I would have thought that members of the Blue Order would be amenable to dragons on the whole.” The Smiths certainly had been, even without a companion dragon.
“It only shows your delicate, feminine nature that you would believe that. A rather pleasing trait, I think.”
Such generous condescension. Her insides pinched and bitterness rose in the back of her mouth.
His steps fell a little more heavily. “All things considered, you do seem rather well versed in the management of the creatures.”
Anne cringed. That tone of voice only meant one thing ….
“I know it is quite forward of me, our acquaintance so brief, but pray, might I ask a favor of you?”
“What do you require?” Good that he did not know her well enough to suspect the meaning of her tone.
“Oh, I do fear this is going to make me sound like quite the cad. I will have to trust in your good nature to hear me out and not to take unnecessary offense.”
Cold prickles raced along Anne’s cheeks. She would restrain her offense to the necessary variety only.
“I am sure you are all that is amiable and kind—it would be preferable to attach myself to a daughter of the estate who is to be Keeper, to be sure. In fact, the Blue Order has been so kind as to inform me of this in several missives of increasing severity. Perhaps you have received them too?”
“No, I have not, though one of the Order officers did mention something of the like in conversation with me. I believe my Father has received such a letter, though.” How mortifying! Even Charles’ plain and practical proposal was better than this.
“And what is your opinion of their demands?”
“I do not really know what to think. Our acquaintance has only been a week in duration, less than that really. That does make it all difficult. But I am told that marriages have been arranged for far lesser reasons.” She shrugged and lifted open hands. Gracious, what a habit lying had become. That had to change immediately.
“I do know what I think. Pray permit me to tell you.”
Something in his tone of voice … she was not going to like his opinions.
“I know it sounds quite terrible to say this, but I have been told I have a decidedly independent streak. I have never liked to be told what to do in any facet of my life. I have always insisted on having the freedom of my own choice, and I will not do differently here for all that your father believes he is the master of all he surveys, or that the Blue Order believes they can dictate my life.”
“My father?”
“He has been rather unsubtle in his intimations that I should marry your elder sister. If I understood his implications correctly, he even suggested that he might increase her dowry rather substantially in order to keep the money with the estate.”
“I had no idea he would resort to such measures.”
Mr. Elliot chuckled, but it was a disapproving sort of sound. “It was rather an interesting tactic; however, even that substantial a brib
e is not enough to turn me from my course of self-determination.”
“I hope you do not want me to broach the topic with him. That would be utterly unthinkable.”
“No, certainly not! What must you think of me? I suppose I should come out with it quite directly. You see, I am already set upon a matrimonial course.”
“You are betrothed?” Had the Order been aware when they made their demands?
“The announcements have not been made but will be soon. I needed to secure her father’s approval—he is very interested in seeing me inherit Kellynch.”
“You came to confirm that my father is not contemplating marriage.”
“You must think me quite a brute. But, yes, her father insisted upon my confirmation of that fact.” Mercenary.
“Does my father know you are for all intents and purposes, betrothed?”
“I will tell him before I leave.”
“I imagine she is an heiress of some sort.” Otherwise why would he ignore Elizabeth’s doubly handsome dowry?
“You make it all sound so cold. We are really quite fond of one another.” He winked.
“I am glad for you. Both of you.”
“I hoped you would say that.” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “You see, there is the small matter of the dragon. She does not hear them.”
“All fondness aside, do you think it prudent to marry a woman who does not hear dragons when you will be the master of a dragon estate?”
“I will not be the first or last man to have done so. It can be managed. I know the Order does not prefer the arrangement, but you know I am not impressed with them. Besides, I fully expect that the dragon will continue to sleep under my tenure as it has for your father and his father.” That was to say he fully intended to maintain the family tradition of terrible Dragon Keeping.
“Are you aware that a hibernating dragon is a troubled one? The Order is already concerned over what may happen when he awakens and finds that the situation has not improved. Planning to continue as things have been may be a very unwise strategy, indeed. In fact, if the dragon awakens—”
“Exactly, Miss Anne, that is precisely what I wanted to speak with you about. You have such an understanding of these things. I need your help. I understand all major dragons require Keepers. You are currently an apprentice, or is it junior Keeper for Kellynch.”
“Junior Keeper.”
“The letters I received from the Order suggested that you will be integral to keeping the dragon in good order when it awakens and into the future as you are heir to the Keepership.”
“I have been given the same understanding. The Keepership passes to the eldest hearing child, regardless of who inherits the estate. That role can be reassigned to another, possibly to the heir of the estate, if the dragon finds it acceptable. Forgive my candor, but I do not see—”
“Oh, no I do not want that role myself. I am quite content that you have it.”
She clenched her teeth, neck and face growing hot. “But you have already said you have plans to marry another.”
“Who says that I have to marry you for you to be Keeper of the dragon?”
“Excuse me? I have never read of such a thing.”
“We are in modern times, Miss Anne, and the Order must keep up. Not all of us burdened with hearing the cold-bloods desire or even need be bothered with them. This is my plan: I will marry my betrothed, and we will live in the manor when I inherit Kellynch and you inherit the Keepership. I will see you have a cottage here and remain under my protection—”
“Wait, stop. Remain under your protection, like a mistress?”
“I will see you are cared for and in return you can Keep the dragon.”
She stopped and turned to face him. “You propose to set me up as some sort of mistress to manage the dragon?”
“Exactly, brilliant is it not? Your future will be completely settled and the lizard’s requirements will be met. How could the Order object?”
In so very many ways! Separating the Keepership from ownership of the estate? What would that do to the lines of inheritance alone? “And just how long will it be before you begin to make other demands upon me to earn my keep, as it were?”
His jaw dropped, and he edged away from her, but he was trying far too hard to look innocent.
“What if I should decide I wish to marry myself. You do not think my husband would be—”
He laughed, bitter and cruel. “Marry, you? I know you have already turned down two men. Do you really think anyone else will offer for you, especially when your father is so willing to impoverish your dowry for your sister’s sake?”
“How would you know such a thing?”
“Fairy dragons hear everything and tell it all over and over again. Horrible gossips. Perhaps you should not have been so quick to protect them from that cockatrice. I would not mind seeing them banished from the estate altogether.”
“That is not your decision to make. It is the estate dragon’s.”
“How would I know such a thing? That is why I need you to Keep the dragon.”
“As a kept woman.”
“It sounds so vulgar when you put it that way.” He rolled his eyes.
She pulled her shoulders back very straight. “I am a lady, Mr. Elliot, not a ladybird. You will treat me as one.”
“You are a lady with a very uncertain future. I am offering you one of comfort and stability. One that will allow you to do your duty to your family and to satisfy the Blue Order.”
“No. You offer me only insults and speculations. I was barely willing to consider becoming your wife, sir. I will not be your mistress, no matter what the terms. That is a disgrace to me, to my father, to the legacy of Kellynch Hall. I will not have it.”
“Really?” He tsked under his breath. “I had no idea you would be so determined. I had heard otherwise about you.”
“I do not wish to know what you heard.”
He lifted his chin and intoned in a falsetto, “That you were a sweet, obedient woman who would do whatever was required of her for the sake of duty and family.”
“I will not be moved, sir. Pray leave me.” She gathered her skirts and took off at just less than a run toward Kellynch Cottage.
He did not follow.
Had he truly just made her that disgusting offer? What would the Blue Order think of such a thing?
Did it really matter how the Order would consider it? Was it possible they could require that of her? She shuddered.
No! Absolutely not! Mr. Wynn said the Order would not force a marriage, so surely, they would not require something so far beneath her. Even if they did, she would refuse. She had rejected a respectable offer from dull, stable, respectable Charles Musgrove. She was not going to turn around now and accept such an … an affront from Mr. Elliot, no matter what his relation to the estate, the Blue Order, or anyone else.
She stopped near a fence stile and braced herself against it, gulping air like a drowning man. Something warm and malleable drained away from her chest. She pulled her shoulders back and spine tall; something firm and steady held her up—was that resolve? Yes, it was resolve. She could be, she would be, resolved.
Resolved to make the best of things. Resolved to manage the dragons of the estate as best she could. Resolved to become an active part of the Blue Order who was willing to see women as rational creatures valuable in their own right. Resolved to never consider men or marriage ever again.
She did not need marriage to secure her future—she had the hope of dragons.
Intermezzo 3
Late September 1809
Choppy waves slapped at the hull, dancing in the light of the full moon. Beneath his feet the Laconia bobbed and swayed as it always did, steady and reliable. Streaky grey clouds drifted past the stars, never obscuring, just dancing flirtatiously among them. Chill and briny, a light breeze nipped his ears and nose. Winter would be along soon, with its cold and storms. Definitely not his favorite season, and it probably would not be La
conia’s either. Being cold blooded had its limitations.
He might need a nest near the galley where he could keep warm. Cook would not mind. Not only did he like cats, as it were, but he was convinced that Laconia was the best mouser he had ever seen, and lucky to boot. Chances were good he would see hosting Laconia as a privilege, and if he did not, Laconia would persuade him he did.
Wentworth ran his tongue along the roof of his mouth. He still tasted Mrs. Harville’s perfume, even though hours had passed since he had last seen her. Did she really have to use so much of it? Gah! Flowers, which a man should definitely not be eating, and other things he could not name. Perhaps he should speak to her about it, but no, one probably did not have that sort of conversation with a woman to whom he was not related.
She, her sister, and her cousin had been so excited to board this morning, so ready for their journey to Plymouth to join Harville there. Unfortunately, it was utterly impossible to make shipboard conditions suitable to a party of ladies. Still, the Harville ladies put forth a great effort to disguise their disappointment upon discovering how few comforts would be available whilst they traveled. That certainly won them favor among the crew.
Mercifully, their discomfort would be of short duration.
The efforts were worth it, though. He would assist any brother officer that he could with whatever he could. Moreover, he would bring anything of Harville's from the world's end, if asked. But that did not mean he did not feel it an evil.
At least there were several sea dragon pods in these waters and tantalizing hints of other, larger dragons they had not yet met. That should not thrill him as much as it did.
“Mrrooow.” Laconia jumped up on the railing and approached, moonlight glinting off his shiny black fur and scales. How did one describe a gait that involved two nimble feet mincing across a rail and one muscular tail wrapped around it? Odd. That was the only word that came to mind. No, not just odd, but effective.
“You have left the ladies’ company?” Wentworth reached out to offer a scratch.
