A Proper Introduction to Dragons (Jane Austen's Dragons)

by Maria Grace

  Jane’s eyes filled with tears, but she managed, somehow, to hold them back, which was good, because if she cried, Lydia and Mary would surely follow. Then this journey would move from uncomfortable to unbearable.

  If only there were a way for April to sing a bit and calm everyone down, but she could hardly do that without drawing notice to herself, so they would have to do without her assistance. As if this journey were not already difficult enough. Elizabeth bit her lip. Nothing she could possibly say would be useful at this moment.

  Three very long hours later, the coach crossed into London proper. Many of the sights and sounds as they had passed through in the streets were fascinating, but the dragons were even more so. Wild dragons in the air—or at least they seemed wild, perched on the corners of buildings like falcons waiting to catch unsuspecting pigeons. Several small drakes that surely passed as terriers scampered in the streets, after rats no doubt. Children played nearby, seemingly unaware of their unusual company.

  Perhaps she might—no, she could not. Papa had been ever so stern with her. She was not permitted to meet new dragons right now. She swallowed back the lump in her throat. At least there was Rustle, the cockatrice, at Uncle Gardiner’s house. He was a bit grumpy at times, but grumpy dragon company was far better than none at all.

  The carriage pulled into the mews behind Uncle Gardiner’s Cheapside home. Elizabeth had never been to London, but the mews looked quite like they did in other places: rather closed in, useful, but not very attractive. A number of the houses had small gardens in the mews, which was little different to the smaller cities she had been to with Papa, but she probably should not comment on that. Mama did not like to be reminded that Elizabeth had experiences which her sisters had not.

  The driver climbed down from the box and meandered to the door. It must have taken a quarter of an hour for the door to open again and Uncle Gardiner to hurry out to them.

  He pulled the carriage door open and leaned inside. “Fanny? My dear sister, where is Thomas? Whatever has brought you all this way so unexpectedly?”

  “Please, Edward, may we stay with you?” Mama folded her hands together and batted her eyes, but real dread colored her voice.

  “Of course, you know you always have a place with me. But pray tell me, where is Thomas?” He reached to help her out.

  “I will tell you everything, but first, permit me to settle the girls. They are not used to traveling and must rest.” Mama stepped down from the coach and beckoned them to follow.

  With the help of Uncle’s housekeeper, Mama ushered them upstairs, to an attic room clearly intended as a nursery. The maid rushed to remove the dust cloths from the furniture, revealing two little beds and one larger, lined up against the longest wall. Tall, narrow windows brought light into the white painted room, enough that it did not feel too dreary. A doll, a wooden horse, and a pair of hoops lay in the corner near a large leather-wrapped trunk which probably contained more toys. Next to it a small shelf held a few books—baby books, nothing that Elizabeth would want to read, but they might keep Kitty and Lydia entertained.

  Elizabeth bit her tongue at the indignity of being consigned to a nursery. She might not be out, but it had been years since she had to keep to the nursery. The housekeeper, dear soul that she was, managed to whisper that a guest room would be made up for her and Jane later. In the meantime, though, she was expected to nap quietly whilst sharing a bed with Jane and Mary—and April, who did not much like the close proximity.

  Her sisters fell asleep in very short order, but Elizabeth’s mind raced too fast to allow her to rest. What would Longbourn think about her removal from the estate? What would happen to April whilst they were here? With so many predators about, she could hardly go out on her own. Did Uncle even know she had brought a fairy dragon into his home?

  And what about Rustle? In the wild, cockatrice ate fairy dragons. Introducing predator to prey and expecting them to be friendly was a skill she had not even read about, much less learnt.

  What if Mama did not wish to return to Longbourn? What would they do here in London? Could Papa force them to move back? Legally he had that right, but would he exercise it? And if he did, what would it mean for things at home? Surely, it would not improve Mama’s disposition.

  Elizabeth slipped out of bed, slowly and carefully enough not to disturb Jane and Mary, and tiptoed to the little wooden bench near the windows. She curled up on the hard seat in the path of a wan sunbeam, drawing her knees under her chin.

  How could she feel so alone in a room so full of her sisters? Shrill tones—her mother’s no doubt—drifted up from the floors below. She was too far away to make out what Mama was saying, but the pitch and cadence was enough to suggest a very great deal. How was Uncle to manage her?

  Her sisters woke two hours later. The housekeeper arrived very shortly thereafter with a dinner tray and an announcement that Jane and Elizabeth would be moving to another room. Mary, Kitty, and Lydia seemed pleased they would have the entire nursery to themselves.

  The housekeeper stayed with them through dinner and, with the help of a maid, established Jane and Elizabeth in a downstairs bedroom already containing their trunk. The room was smaller than her room at home and faced the mews. That was nice since the street noises would not keep them awake. The large bed looked thick and fluffy and inviting, far more comfortable than the one in the nursery. The pale wood furniture might be a little old and plain by Mama’s standards, but it was tidy and comfortable and welcoming.

  Mama visited them shortly thereafter, speaking many words, but with very little substance in any of them. She seemed to be a little calmer, though, and that had to be a good thing.

  Jane retrieved her work bag from the trunk and pulled a chair near the window. Why she found fancy sewing so soothing, Elizabeth hardly understood, but it was good to see her smile just a little.

  “Do not worry, Lizzy. I am sure it will all work out for the best. I think it is nice to visit London. I have never been away from Meryton before.”

  Elizabeth murmured something agreeable sounding. Jane never liked to talk about anything unpleasant, which was probably just as well. It was not as if there was very much either of them could do to affect the situation.

  Bedtime came, and Jane fell asleep directly—how did she do that?

  Elizabeth scrunched her pillow, trying to get comfortable.

  April poked her ear with sharp little toes. “I am hungry.”

  Of course she was, and she had every right to be so. But this was not Longbourn.

  “I must introduce you to Rustle before I dare poke about the kitchen. This is his territory, after all. Come, I will see if I can find him.” Elizabeth wrapped her dressing gown around herself and tiptoed toward the stairs.

  Where would Rustle be? The most likely place would be Uncle’s study, but Mama’s voice still drifted up from that direction. Since Rustle did not hide his dislike of Mama, he would certainly not stay in the room with her. Hopefully, he would not be in Uncle’s chambers. She would not be able to talk to him there.

  “You are supposed to be in bed.”

  She jumped and looked up.

  Rustle peered down at her from the top of the parlor door. His long taloned toes gripped the door, and his wings were extended. He was trying to look big. “Go back to bed.”

  A shiver coursed down her back. But he intended that, no doubt. Unlike fairy dragon voices which were soothing and soporific, cockatrice voices induced terror when properly applied.

  “Pray forgive my intrusion, but—may we go into the parlor?” She glanced into the room, lit only by moonlight.

  Rustle offered a patronizing look but swooped into the parlor. “What have you to tell me?” He landed on the back of the largest chair in the room, near the windows. His serpentine tail snaked along the upholstery, helping him balance.

  “I am sorry to impose upon your hospitality, uninvited, especially with one whom you have never made acquaintance with. Pray, may I introduce you
to my Dragon Friend?” She covered April with her hand lest she make a sudden move that triggered Rustle’s prey instincts.

  Rustle sniffed the air. “I thought I smelt another dragon about. A fairy dragon? It smells like fruit.”

  “Yes, she is still very young and could not stay behind when Mama packed us up.”

  Rustle flapped and grumbled and snorted. Small dragons did not like to share territory any more than large ones. “Very well, it seems we have little alternative. You would no doubt go into the street with her if I said no.”

  “Indeed, I would, though, I am sure that would only upset Mama further.”

  Rustle growled and snapped his sharp beak. “Show me this fairy dragon.”

  Elizabeth lifted her hand, and April peeked out from under the dressing gown collar. “May I present April, my Dragon Friend. This is Rustle, Friend to my Uncle Gardiner. He is a very fine cockatrice, a powerful protector to this home.” A little sincere flattery was rarely lost upon a minor dragon.

  April covered her head with her wings and pressed herself nearly flat on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

  Rustle leaned close and sniffed her. His long forked tongue snaked out, and he licked the top of her head. “I admit you into my territory.”

  “Thank you.” April peeked out between her wings. She was not normally so docile, but perhaps knowing she might easily be a late night snack shaped her manners.

  “Her voice is weak. Did the housekeeper bring her dinner with yours?” His beak clapped in a cockatrice equivalent of a frown.

  “No, it seems she does not believe that children should have jam with their bread or honey with their tea.”

  “I see. Wait here.” Rustle flapped away.

  A few minutes later he returned, carrying a jam pot in his talons. “Here.” He dropped it, clattering, on the table in front of Elizabeth. “Eat. Hungry dragons are not pleasing company for anyone. I will see that my guest has suitable victuals in the future.”

  He really was a thoughtful, charming creature ... for a dragon.

  “That is very kind of you.” Elizabeth opened the pot, and April dove for it, muttering “thank you” through mouthfuls.

  “Does the Order know you are here?”

  “I do not think so. We did not even know we were coming until we left.”

  “They should. It is important.” Rustle paced along the edge of the chair. “Pray excuse me.” He flew off before she could object.

  Hopefully, the Order did not make things more complicated. But that seemed highly unlikely.

  She yawned and stretched. April must really like the jam Rustle brought; she had stopped guzzling and now seemed to savor each bite. Elizabeth sat on the sofa near the table. Perhaps it would not hurt to close her eyes a bit as she waited for April to finish.

  “Rustle told me I would find you here.” Uncle whispered, standing over her. “No, no need to answer, there is no trouble. Let me take you up to bed, though. Your mother would be most vexed to find you out of your room.” He picked her up and carried her back to the guest room, April quietly following.

  ∞∞∞

  The next morning, a maid roused Jane and Elizabeth, helped them dress, and escorted them down to the morning room where Mama and Uncle Gardiner already waited. It was odd being woken for the day. At Longbourn, Elizabeth was usually the first one of the family up and about.

  The morning room was smaller than Longbourn’s morning room, but yellow paper hangings with white birds made it warm and cheerful. Mama said all those homey touches could be attributed to her dear and departed mother who was the last mistress of that house. A house was never a home, she said, without a woman to manage it. She had offered a few speculations about how the new Mrs. Gardiner might fare when she was elevated to mistress of the house, but those musings were often less than charitable, so it did not serve to dwell on them.

  The table was set with a tempting variety of dishes, offering a wealth of appetizing scents as they walked in, a very effective way of reminding one that she was hungry.

  April caught sight of a pot of jam set very near one seat and hummed in Elizabeth’s ear. Uncle Gardiner gestured Elizabeth toward that chair. April twittered her gratitude and hopped down on the table.

  Mama slapped the table, sending April hovering above the tabletop. “Elizabeth! How many times have I told you? Your pet is not welcome at the table! Oh, Brother, pray forgive her. I cannot see why she brought that creature with us to London in the first place. If I had only known, I would surely—”

  Rustle swooped in to perch on the back of Uncle Gardiner’s chair and chirruped at Mama. It was not a friendly sound.

  Mama glared at Rustle, eyes wide and even a mite offended.

  “Pray be at ease, Fanny. Truly, it is of no concern to me.” Uncle looked over his shoulder at Rustle, a little reproach in his expression. “You see Rustle has free reign of the house. His table manners are as refined as most of my guests’.”

  Elizabeth sniggered only for Mama to glower at her. On the far side of the table, Jane made herself as small as possible. She hated conflict.

  “I insist. Elizabeth, take that creature out of the morning room before it and Uncle’s bird start to peck at each other as the chickens do.”

  Uncle shook his head. “Rustle and April seem to be on quite friendly terms, so I cannot see any point in banishing the little creature to the guest rooms.”

  “Sometimes you sound just like Mr. Bennet. I cannot say I like it at all. I am sure it is that club—Blue’s is it?—that you both belong to. Who has heard of that place? It seems to foster very strange preferences and ideas.”

  Uncle cleared his throat rather loudly. “I would thank you to not comment on business that is no concern of yours.”

  Mama’s eyes bulged, and she sucked in a sharp breath. Papa was not apt to make such pointed remarks, but considering the way it ended that line of conversation, perhaps he should.

  “I had thought, though,” Uncle turned and looked at Elizabeth with a particular intensity that strongly suggested she should agree to whatever he said, “that perhaps little April might find it comfortable to have a place of her own to retreat to when tired. It might be wrapped up warmly to keep her from the chill in the winter and to protect her from undesired company when she might prefer a bit of privacy.”

  “Privacy, for a bird? Really, Edward, you are indulging Elizabeth’s fantasies far too much. They are already quite out of control.”

  April pulled her face from the jam pot and twittered. “I rather fancy the notion.”

  “Hear how prettily she is singing? She likes the idea.” Uncle winked at April.

  Mama harrumphed. “Oh, very well. If it will keep that creature contained, then perhaps it is a good idea.”

  Elizabeth bit her lip. “You do not mean a—”

  Uncle cut her off with a glance. “I think you shall be very pleased with what I propose. After breakfast, I shall take you and April on a little outing to see what I have in mind.”

  “I am sure Jane would like very much to go with you as well.” Mama looked suggestively at Jane.

  Jane’s eyebrows lifted just a mite.

  “No, you would not.” Rustle and April said simultaneously.

  “You would much rather stay here and entertain Kitty and Lydia. They need to have someone familiar nearby. London is such a strange place and so far from home for them.” April added with authority.

  Jane’s brows knit and creased her forehead “Kitty and Lydia were so restless last night. I think it would be better for me to stay and entertain them.”

  Mama’s face flushed, and she opened her mouth to speak.

  “It is a mark of the sweetness of Jane’s disposition that she should be willing to forego her own pleasures for the sake of her younger sisters.” April cheeped.

  “You are such a sweet girl. How can I deny you such a request?” Mama looked almost surprised at the words which tumbled from her mouth. />
  “It is settled then. Finish up your breakfast, and I will see you in my study, Lizzy.” Uncle nodded and excused himself from the table.

  Elizabeth ate quickly, almost as hastily as April who seemed to want to be away from Mama’s company as fast as possible.

  Mama waved her out of the room. “Go quickly now, to your Uncle, and do not be a bother to him. He is not used to all the prattle and questions little girls are apt to be about.”

  Rustle followed them to Uncle’s study.

  “Are you ready then? Shall we be off?” Uncle held out her cloak and bonnet.

  April took her place in the folds of Elizabeth’s hood as they stepped out into the crisp morning air. Rustle followed, flying low overhead, silhouetted against the bright, cloudless sky.

  “Where are we going?” Elizabeth glanced up at Uncle Gardiner.

  He took her hand, smiling. “You need not worry. We are going to the Blue Order.”

  “Are there not dragons there?” She gasped, her feet freezing in place. “I am not supposed to meet any new ones, not yet, not now.”

  “I understand the restrictions you are under. But Rustle has already been there. Permission has been extended for you to visit. And yes, should your father need to know about it, I will make sure he understands the permissions granted you.”

  She squeezed his hand, her throat too tight to speak. The Blue Order! She was going to finally see the Blue Order! Who could have thought such a wondrous thing might happen on a trip such as this one! Papa had described the place, and made it sound rather dull and mundane. Somehow it did not seem possible she could agree with such an assessment, not when there would be so many dragons there.

  In what felt like a very few minutes, they stopped before a rather plain white building, five stories tall. Fine iron railings danced before its many windows, none of which she could see into. Large double doors, painted the Order’s signature blue, stood sentinel before them. The effect was a bit disappointing. Such a marvelous place should have stood out, been grand and impossible to miss, rather than blending into the surroundings. Then again, that was what dragons did too, blending in and hiding in plain sight.