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

by Maria Grace

  “I have never seen the Dragon Slayer wielded before.”

  He edged the slightest bit closer, his shoulder almost brushing hers. “It is not an easy weapon to use. A man must be trained by an expert to have any hope of success with it.”

  “The training is tailored to the dragon in question?” Granted, this was not at all the subject she had hoped to discuss, but at least they were talking.

  “Of course. Each one is very different in their strengths and weaknesses. In my case—dealing with a hatchling—the training I had was minimal. But sufficient to be the stuff of nightmares. I am grateful we did not have to see a dragon’s demise today.”

  “I am as well.” She walked several more steps, drawing a deep breath. “Though, I better understand why it might have been seen as necessary.”

  “You have no idea how I—we—suffered, knowing you were missing, not even knowing for certain he had taken you.” His words were halting, even labored.

  “I was foolish to go out as I did. Not for the walk after we argued, that was essential, but following the trail Netherfield laid for me, that was foolish.”

  “He laid a trap for you?”

  “I simply walked into it, believing—oh!” She stopped and slid her hand from his. “It seems I am capable of being every bit as stubborn as I have accused you of being. I have been so intractable you did not even think you could talk to me about what was truly important. I regret that more than anything else.”

  He caught her hand again. “I did not make things any easier. Fitzwilliam insisted you not be told—ordered it, more or less. But that does not mean I was compelled to obey.”

  “I see how persuasive his orders can be, though.” She giggled. “Apparently, he was right. I hate to confess it, but there it is. He thought I would be headstrong and insist on doing things my own way. I have done just that. I am certain my father would have told you the same thing.”

  “Your father’s opinion is of little concern to me.”

  “He has always said that I was incorrigible and would one day get myself into a very great deal of trouble because of my refusal to follow protocols and structure. And indeed I have. I walked into a trap and was kidnapped by a rogue dragon.”

  “I admit that was a bit troublesome.” The corners of his lips drew up in the hint of a wry smile.

  “Just a bit? You are far too kind. I was foolish and impulsive, exactly as Papa described.” She straightened her shoulders and steeled herself. “I completely understand if that is not what you wish for in a wife. I cannot possibly be the sort of influence you desire for Georgiana. I am unlikely to be a credit to you in society—certainly not the ton and perhaps not among the Blue Order, either. My opinions are far too decided. What is more, I lack the self-control to restrain my own tongue. I know what we promised to the Order: we are both to act as Keepers for Pemberley, but there are certainly ways to make it work other than forcing you into a marriage with me.”

  “It is kind of you to have both overlooked my complicity in this circumstance —I should have brought you into our confidence and committed to developing a more suitable plan—and that you have taken it upon yourself to determine not only how I feel but how I should act.”

  “I do not have the pleasure of understanding you.”

  “Good. Then perhaps that will force you to actually listen to me.” He crossed his arms and stared— no, glared at her.

  “I only mean to make things less difficult for you. I know you are an honorable man. You will hold to your word even if you have changed your mind.”

  “Which, of course, you know so well, you are able to discern it without my speaking a word.”

  “Any reasonable man would—”

  “I am not a reasonable man!”

  She took half a step back.

  “I do not know where you ever got the notion that I am a reasonable man, but I am not. I have never been, nor do I ever expect to be. I can give you quite a number of people to apply to for confirmation on that point, starting with Fitzwilliam.”

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  “I am a man who hears dragons; that alone is enough to set me apart from the normal, sensible sort. I also happen to like their company more than I like most people. That certainly is not sensible.” He took both her hands in his and drew her a step closer. “And I am deeply and earnestly in love with a woman who finds dragons literally throwing themselves at her feet, yet her father is the laziest Dragon Keeper and most decided curmudgeon in all of England. That, I assure you, is not sensible at all. And yet, here we are.”

  “What did you say?”

  “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth.” He led her to sit near a large tree. “What will it take to make you believe the very qualities that make your father most annoyed are those I most admire in you? I do not want a woman who cannot think for herself, who relies upon me for every scrap of information, and to form her every opinion. Yes, I would like you to do me the honor of talking with me and sharing your thoughts with me, but I relish your ability to leap from one specialty to another, drawing connections and conclusions others would never see.”

  “And the fact I go brashly charging along after my own ideas regardless of what others think?”

  “You are confident in what you know. Sometimes that might be a bit overwhelming, but now, I think you will also be more respectful of what you do not know and take that into consideration as well.”

  “You see, I am not—” She pulled away and braced herself to stand.

  “Stop it right now!” He grasped her upper arms. “You made a mistake, and yes, it could have cost us everything. It was a serious one. I do not forget that now, nor will I ever forget it.”

  Her eyes burned, and she stared at the ground.

  “You are not accustomed to making mistakes where dragons are concerned, are you? I would wager you probably have never really made one before?”

  “No, I have not.”

  “Then I am glad you have made one and a very serious one at that.”

  “So that I may be properly humbled into my place.”

  “So that you might be more cautious and willing to accept a partner with a different perspective on these draconic adventures of yours.”

  She looked up and stared into dark eyes that could not possibly have been more sincere.

  “I do not want you to change. I have never wanted that. I know our life together is going to be challenging. Little Pemberley alone will more than ensure that. No one has raised a firedrakling in centuries. You will be writing the book on the matter in a very literal sense. How could I not want to be part of that?”

  “But I am so very, very difficult.”

  “Is not anything worth having apt to be difficult?” He looked over her shoulder and nodded.

  Walker landed beside Darcy, and a chittering ball of blue fluff zipped past.

  “You best listen to what he is saying!” April scolded, hovering in front of her face. “The man has been beside himself since you were taken.”

  “He has been only slightly more distraught than she.” Walker nodded toward April.

  Elizabeth extended her hand. April perched lightly on it. “You have come back?”

  “It seems I cannot leave you alone!” April pecked her hand, but it was a half-hearted effort at best. “Where is my cloak?”

  “Back at the house. There was no point to wearing it without you. I will put it on as soon as we get there.” She stroked April’s soft head. “I am glad you have come home.”

  “Then you know how Darcy feels. Declare him your mate, and be done with it. Truly, it is not a bad thing.” She hopped to Elizabeth’s shoulder and cuddled into her neck.

  A tear dripped down her cheek and another. How she had missed her constant companion. Was this truly how Darcy had felt, too?

  He met her gaze without hesitation.

  Merciful heavens! It was!

  “I wish I could make your father see you as I do. But he is set in his ways and will
probably never change. I am sorry that is the way of things. I only hope someday you might see yourself as I do, and it will be enough.” He traced the crest of her cheek with his fingertips.

  She leaned into his hand as his other arm slipped around her waist. April hopped off her shoulder and clung to the tree trunk nearby, singing sweetly.

  His lips found hers in a kiss that lingered as his fingertips caressed her throat.

  “Pray, are you convinced now that I still intend for you to become Mrs. Darcy?”

  “You have almost persuaded me, sir, but not quite yet.”

  “Fear not. I am a persistent man and am not easily dissuaded.”

  ∞∞∞

  Darcy suggested a leisurely route back to Netherfield. No doubt, a great deal would need to be accomplished, and their moments alone might be few and far between in the coming days. It seemed wise to relish them now whilst they could. Happily, Elizabeth agreed.

  After a dinner, which “tense” was the very kindest word to describe, the Netherfield party retreated to various corners. Cait had accepted the temporary keeping of Miss Lydia with, perhaps, a little too much relish. Miss Lydia, with Cait closely following, stalked off to her chambers, clearly annoyed and possibly even disgusted not only with the talk of dragons around the dinner table, but that their presence was welcomed there. If one took her seriously, her storming and shouting was troubling and could be viewed as a great danger to the Order. But those who knew her best seemed unconcerned, so, at least for now, Darcy would hold his peace.

  Mary and Collins joined Bennet and Fitzwilliam in the cellar for a brief introduction to Netherfield. Fitzwilliam suggested Netherfield wished to apologize for his untoward behavior. Was it a show to gain favor with the Order or was it sincere? Fitzwilliam seemed to believe the latter, which for now, was good enough.

  Darcy and Elizabeth, who had the care of the sleeping Earl, made their way to the small parlor they favored. Lit only by the fireplace, it beckoned them inside like an old friend. He pulled the fainting couch near the fire—very near—and offered Elizabeth a blanket. Though she had not complained, it was clear she relished the opportunity to be near warmth and light. He shuddered just a little. To be trapped in total darkness—that was truly cruel of Netherfield and would be difficult for Darcy to forgive him for.

  She bade him sit at the head of the fainting couch with a favorite book. She curled up beside him, Earl pressed against her chest and April against her neck, tucked the blanket around her legs, and closed her eyes. He wrapped his arm over her shoulder and held her close. Yes, it was not only highly improper, it was also a touch too warm, and a bit of an awkward angle for his shoulder, but nothing could have compelled him to move. Finally, the world seemed the way it should be.

  Loud footfalls in the corridor made him jump. He must have dozed off—according to the mantle clock nearly an hour had passed. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sat up a little straighter but not enough to disturb Elizabeth.

  Fitzwilliam strode in, his steps halfway between stomping and storming.

  Bennet followed him at some distance. “Astonishing, truly astonishing, the stories he has to tell. Lizzy. Lizzy!”

  “Hush! Do not wake her.” Darcy craned his neck around to glower at Bennet.

  “Do give the woman some rest. She has, after all, been at the center of ,not one, but two diplomatic coups today.” Fitzwilliam pulled a wingchair close to the fire and fell into it.

  “These stories need to be recorded before they are forgotten.” Bennet leaned on his walking stick as though waiting for someone to offer him a chair.

  Fitzwilliam ignored the silent request. “Given the relish with which Netherfield told them, I doubt he will be reluctant to repeat them.”

  “But if the Order decides against—” Bennet shuffled toward a chair at the edge of the firelight.

  “What exactly do you think the Order is going to do? No council member, dragon or human, wanted to see his demise. They reluctantly accepted the notion only when it appeared there was no alternative. Given the preliminary word Walker has already brought, there is a great deal of relief that the last resort was not necessary, after all.”

  “You did an excellent job of brokering an understanding.” Bennet tapped his walking stick on the carpet.

  “The effort began well before I was dispatched. Without Elizabeth and Darcy, I doubt we would have ever come to this point.”

  Bennet grumbled something about obstinate and headstrong under his breath.

  “I have been asked to provide a complete report on the matter.” Fitzwilliam glanced at Elizabeth who still appeared to sleep. “I intend to let them know the entirety of the role she played, including her assistance to Cait and encouragement to me to befriend Earl.” He looked a little longingly at the chick sleeping in her arms but knew better than to risk disturbing either of them.

  “What has the chick to do with any of this?” Bennet waved toward Earl.

  “Have you not noticed the change in Collins’ attitude toward dragons since he attended the hatching? Moreover, I find I see the world differently having Earl declare me his Friend. It makes me wonder if dragons are not the only ones to imprint at a hatching.”

  “Stuff and nonsense. That is not part of dragon lore. You are simply being sentimental. Probably another of my daughter’s influences.”

  Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes. “I am going to suggest Elizabeth write a monograph on the topic. I know many would be greatly interested in it.”

  “You are just trying to vex me now. I know you are all agog over her way with dragons, but how close to disaster did we all come? In no small part because of her refusal to obey proper protocol. Is no one going to take seriously the risks she took and the danger she placed us all in? Someone must rein her in before it is too late.”

  “I find it immensely interesting that you would reprimand her for failing protocol when you yourself have been so very lax.” Fitzwilliam leveled that gaze on Bennet, the one he had developed to put spoilt young officers in their place.

  Bennet sat forward in his chair, sputtering. “What are you talking about?”

  “Need I list everything I will put in my report to the Order? Very well, I will start with your failure to provide your dragon with his appropriate hoard as well as your failure to apply to the Order for relief when you found yourself unable to do so. Was that pride sir? Or will you claim that you did not expect the Order would come to your assistance?” Fitzwilliam leaned back in his chair—a casual posture that was anything but.

  “I did not violate—”

  “Not the letter of the Accords, to be sure. However, one might argue you did exactly that when you suspected the presence of a rogue dragon and did not immediately report it. Shall I speculate the reason, or will you care to tell me?”

  “I do not have to answer to the likes of you. Remember, you are talking to an officer of the Order!” Though Bennet tried to don a cloak of indignancy, it slipped off his shoulders quickly. Even he did not really believe his own protests.

  “I am certain there will be a full inquiry made over the situation, and your presence in London will be required.”

  “How dare you spread slander against me!”

  “There is no slander in the truth. I will only report the truth as I know it and allow them to determine what is to be done with it. Have I spoken anything so far that is not fact?”

  Bennet muttered into his chest. “I had no proof there was a rogue dragon in the area.”

  “I did not say you did. I said that you suspected. Did you suspect or not? Longbourn—”

  “He knew of Netherfield! What of him?” Bennet pointed roughly in the direction of Longbourn’s lair.

  “So now you would blame your dragon for failing your responsibilities? That is deplorable, sir.” Fitzwilliam tsk-tsked under his breath. Now he was just taunting Bennet. It was not attractive even if the man had it coming. “I think it quite likely Longbourn will be absolved of any responsibi
lity in the matter, especially considering Netherfield was sating the hoarding-hunger you so neatly ignored.”

  “You have never kept a dragon. Truly, what do you understand? Leave these matters to those who know of what they speak.” Bennet shambled from the room.

  The door shut rather more loudly than etiquette declared it should. Elizabeth stirred against Darcy’s chest. “Would you like to take Earl? He is rather a substantial young thing.” She lifted him off her chest and drew a deep breath.

  Fitzwilliam hurried over and settled him in the crook of his arm. Earl opened one eye, cheeped, and nestled into his favorite place.

  Elizabeth cuddled back against Darcy as he pressed his arm against her waist. “I confess it is pleasant to be able to breathe unencumbered again. He is a very dear, though heavy, creature. I am honored you would trust him to my care.”

  “Netherfield took right to him; it was rather remarkable to see them greet one another. Earl curled up and slept right on his snout for a few minutes until it became difficult for Netherfield to talk without disturbing him. Quite the scene, I am sure you can imagine.” Fitzwilliam scratched under Earl’s chin.

  “I can indeed. I am sure Papa will want me for his scribe tomorrow.” She rubbed her eyes with thumb and forefinger.

  “I would not put too much on those plans. I expect Walker will arrive first thing with a summons calling us all to London immediately.”

  “I am relieved they took Netherfield’s application for admission into the Order with such aplomb. Do you think they will give Netherfield this land?”

  “No, I doubt it. With what has occurred between Netherfield and Longbourn, and without a proper Keeper to manage his acceptance into the Order, this would be a very poor choice of territory. That being said, I know there are places befitting a lindwurm that could be assigned him. Most of them are north of London and well away from Longbourn.”

  “I suppose that would be for the best. But Papa will mourn the loss of his acquaintance.” She stared at her hands and chewed her lip. Her shoulders tensed against Darcy. “Do you really need to report—”