by Maria Grace
Longbourn pawed the floor and huffed.
“I will take that as agreement,” Dunbrook said. “You may be dismissed, for now, but do not fail to attend the Conclave.”
Longbourn snorted and disappeared down the tunnel, his heavy footsteps echoing behind him. Clearly, he did not like being held accountable for his own duties. Still though, he seemed to take the news well enough to suggest he would cooperate, especially if it meant he would get his salt.
“You, young woman,” Lord Dunbrook turned to Lydia who stood, quiet and pale, beside Papa. What had Dunbrook said to her to elicit such good behavior? No doubt it was frightening—and probably true. “You have proved yourself ignorant, even willfully so, and a danger to dragonkind. Moreover, you are not trustworthy, making it impossible to leave you alone for even an instant. You will be committed to a Blue Order girl’s school in the north of England until you reach majority at age twenty-one. If at that point you are still deemed a danger, you will be condemned as a career criminal and assigned to a managed home in Scotland for the rest of your natural life.”
Lydia glanced at Elizabeth as if to confirm Lord Dunbrook’s power over her. When Elizabeth nodded, she covered her mouth and whimpered.
“If however, you prove yourself tractable to the teachings of the Order, at the discretion of the school masters, at the age of eighteen you may be permitted to come out to the Order and be introduced to suitable young men in good standing with the Order and married accordingly.”
“Oh, yes!” Lydia clapped and bounced on her toes.
“But only if you prove yourself learned, changed, and trustworthy.”
Lydia shrank back.
“Until you are deemed no longer a danger, a guardian drake will be assigned to be with you at all times. You are remanded to the custody of your sister Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy until such time as you are transported to school.”
Lord Dunbrook waved toward the tunnel, and a blue-green minor drake skittered in. She was leggy and lean—probably a very fast runner—standing about three feet tall on all four feet and probably as tall as Lydia if she rose on her hind feet. Her nose was long and sharp. If she had glasses balanced there, she would have looked very much like a governess. Something about the way she carried herself suggested she was well-prepared for the task.
“This is Auntie. She will take you to the parlor where you may wait. You would do well to consider her your governess for the time being.”
Lydia’s jaw dropped. “I am too old for a governess.”
Auntie circled her, sniffing as she looked Lydia up and down. “Perhaps too old, but not too wise. If you have any desire to prove you can live without a chaperone, then you had best start now. Do you play the pianoforte?”
Lydia edged back. “I have had a few lessons.”
“Then we shall make good use of the time. The parlor has a pianoforte. You shall show me what you know.”
“You play?”
“She is quite the proficient,” Lord Dunbrook murmured, his eyes twinkling as Auntie opened the door. “When she is at the Order, she is much in demand for concerts.”
“Stop gawking at me, girl, and move on. Clearly, there is a great deal of work to be done to polish you properly.” Auntie poked Lydia’s back until she headed toward the door.
“A dragon governess?” Fitzwilliam whispered in Elizabeth’s ear.
“Perhaps Auntie might be available when our children are of an age to need one.” Elizabeth winked up at Darcy who sniggered under his breath.
Lord Dunbrook turned back to Papa. The hard lines of his face softened a bit. “You have served the Order as an officer faithfully for many years, and your service has not been forgotten. Since you will no longer have Keepers’ duties, the Order invites you to dedicate yourself to full-time service as Historian. You may have the use of an Order townhouse and its staff, along with a stipend of three hundred pounds a year if you choose to do so. Further, you may select a secretary, human or dragon, from amongst candidates Lady Astrid will provide.”
“My wife and remaining daughter?”
“They may live in town with you under the watch of the house staff.”
“She may be pleased at the prospect.” Papa murmured more to himself than anyone else.
“Think on it. You may have two days to make your decision. You are dismissed.”
Papa trundled off, his steps a little lighter than they had been.
“That was generous of you, sir. Thank you.” Elizabeth curtsied to Lord Dunbrook.
“While he has not been a good Keeper, that is not the only way to serve the Order. His other skills are valuable. It would be foolish to cast them aside.” Lord Dunbrook rubbed his palms briskly. “As for you three, somehow you made a coup out of what should have been a diplomatic disaster. Envoy Shin-dee-a was very impressed with how you handled what she called ‘an extreme test of the Order’s character.’ You managed to turn what might have been a violent confrontation into a peaceful settlement, powerfully demonstrating the Order’s commitment to its principles. Consequently, talks have begun to establish a formal relationship with the Eastern Dragon Federation. Well done, very well done.”
“Thank you, sir.” Fitzwilliam bowed.
“What is to become of Netherfield?” The words just slipped out before she could catch them.
Darcy flinched. He was probably right. That question was no doubt out of order. Poor man would need to become accustomed to such bold statements tumbling from her lips for there was little hope of stopping them.
“I cannot say at this time. He has applied for conditional admission into the Order and requested the Netherfield territory. I will make recommendations after the hearings are complete, but the Conclave must render their vote on the matter. Lady Astrid will help you prepare your statements for those hearings. She awaits you now.” Lord Dunbrook nodded a dismissal.
Walker and April greeted them just outside the antechamber.
“Earl is well in Lady Astrid’s care, but he is growing hungry and insists only you can feed him properly.” Walker smirked just a bit.
“That is his way of saying no one else is willing to feed him enough to sate his hunger. Mother used to say the same of me and my brothers when we came home on school holidays. Swore that we must not be fed at all whilst we were in school. I will visit the kitchen and join you shortly.” Fitzwilliam jogged off down the corridor.
“I had thought Earl’s hunger would abate by now. April’s and Heather’s hatching hunger only lasted three days.” Elizabeth stroked April’s head. How pleasant to be able to do that again.
“A cockatrice chick is much larger and thus more hungry.” Walker looked a little proud. “In a se’nnight or so, it should fade.”
“I think Fitzwilliam will appreciate the respite.” Darcy chuckled.
“It will not last very long.” April poked Elizabeth’s ear with her beak.
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth craned her neck, trying to look April in the eye.
“Whilst we are here, you should see about procuring a proper nesting box. I will be laying soon. I do not fancy the sort of rough kit your father assembled for his study. A box, properly finished so it is not rough under my feet and has no sharp corners for you to knock your knees upon, with plenty of soft hay, not the coarse, prickly kind, but the smooth, sweet-smelling variety.”
“So soon?” Darcy raised his eyebrows.
“It is not soon at all, but exactly the right time.” April puffed a bit, looking very proud.
“Then you shall have whatever you require.” He bowed deeply.
Elizabeth cocked her head with mock severity. “You shall spoil her, you know. Then where will we all be?”
April flitted to his shoulder and cuddled his cheek. “Whatever do you mean? I have always been sweet and charming and ever more shall be so.”
∞∞∞
Three days later, Elizabeth hurried in from the mews to what she had dubbed the ladies’ parlor, and shut the door behind her.
On the ground floor, the parlor windows looked out on the mews. She could watch Pemberley playing outside with Slate and Amber or simply enjoy the already blooming garden. On gloomy days, the pale blue walls and ivory ceiling seemed to bring sunshine inside. Paintings on every wall provided blossoms even when the garden did not. It was the sort of room she would have designed herself had she the opportunity.
April flew from her shoulder to the nesting box near the hearth to rearrange the hay again. Silly dear was never quite satisfied.
“Gracious, Lizzy! You look like you are running from a rogue dragon yourself!” Aunt Gardiner looked up from the fainting couch near the window where she and Phoenix sat cuddling Earl. The young red fairy dragon had taken an immediate liking to Earl and was preening his head feathers whilst Aunt Gardiner read to them both from A Young Dragon’s Primer to the Pendragon Accords. Actually, it was an excellent source for both young dragons and young people. No doubt, she read it to the children in lieu of bedtime stories these days. The little dears could not get enough of dragons, it seemed. Unlike Lydia.
Elizabeth sighed and fell into an overstuffed chair near Aunt Gardiner. “More like a rogue sister, but yes, the effect is rather the same.”
“Dare I ask?”
“Now that you are a full member of the Order yourself, you may ask anything you like, and I am free to answer.” Elizabeth smiled broadly. If there was anything to be pleased of at the moment, it was that she could fully share everything she loved most with the woman closest to her.
“Do tell, then.”
“I suppose the most important thing is Colonel Fitzwilliam’s defense of Netherfield is going well, as things go for dragons, of course.”
“Humor me, my dear. Only being recently introduced to them myself, I cannot quite discern what you mean by that.” Aunt Gardiner scratched under Phoenix’s chin, then Earl’s.
“All in all, large dragons tend to be more competitive than cooperative. So, when asked to compromise, they become rather cranky. It is understandable considering that when one is an apex predator, one assumes one will have one’s way in all things. When required to set aside that right, they become grumpy even when they recognize it is in their best interests. So, if one can learn to look past the cross dispositions and the occasional snarling and snapping, discussions go more smoothly.” Elizabeth blew a stray curl from her forehead. “But it is rather exhausting.”
“You make it sound so very droll and ordinary, rather like dealing with a room full of small children whom one does not need to regard very seriously, instead of creatures who could cause the downfall of the kingdom.” Aunt glanced down at Earl, one eyebrow raised.
Gracious, she had a way of putting things! “It all makes a great deal of sense if one can just think like a dragon.”
Aunt snickered hard enough to make Earl open one eye with a rather reproving look. “That is perhaps your greatest asset, my dear. Few of us seem to be able to manage the knack.”
“Perhaps, but it does little good when dealing with my sisters.”
“What happened? I thought Mary was finally coming around.”
“She is, I suppose, both she and Collins. I am grateful—a bit astonished, to be sure—but grateful.” Elizabeth rubbed her temples. “In anticipation of the Conclave, which they must attend as Longbourn’s Keepers, I have been trying to teach them proper etiquette for greetings and introductions. Collins, it seems, has a faulty memory at best and cannot manage to keep straight—well, much of anything at all. Mary tries to correct him but is constantly confusing the rank order of the larger minor dragons. They both understand the issue of size, but the role of horns and venom and frills seem to escape them.”
“The way you throw up your hands makes it seem as though it is all very obvious. But those details are not nearly as clear as you might think.”
“If one just considers which dragon has the greater advantage in claiming territory, it is very obvious.”
“Again, to one who thinks like a dragon, I am sure it is. But you must have some mercy on those of us who do not—yet.”
Elizabeth threw her head back and stared at the plasterwork vine-and-fairy-dragon pattern circling the ceiling. “I know you are right, and if it were just Mary and Collins, I would probably be far more patient, but Lydia? I am beginning to sound like my mother, complaining about my nerves!”
“Fanny, by the way, is quite pleased to know Lydia will be off to finishing school where she might receive proper introductions and marry well.”
“’Might’ being the operative concept. It will all depend on her tractability which I completely doubt at the moment.”
“What happened?” Who knew Aunt’s eyes could open so wide.
“At the hearing today, the matter of Wickham and his demise came up. How she carried on! Not even Auntie could bring her under regulation. I thought, for a moment, the dear drake was actually going to bite her. Not that I would blame Auntie if she did! The scene Lydia caused! It nearly derailed the entire proceeding which would have meant presenting the matter in detail to the full Conclave instead of the special council. Lydia does not understand the crimes she has committed and that the council is offering her great leniency because of her ignorance. The Conclave would likely hold her accountable and …” Elizabeth shuddered. “Truly, I just want to shake her.” Energy coursed through her limbs, itching and twitching until she had to spring to her feet and pace.
“So, what happened in the special council hearing?”
“Lydia explained how she and Wickham had been living in a hermitage they had found on the Netherfield property—we can discuss all the problems with that at another time, for those are things dragons hardly consider an issue—and had been looking for Netherfield’s lair. Needless to say, that did not sit well with Cownt Matlock or any of the rest of the Council even though they had already decided not to prosecute Lydia.” Elizabeth flung her arms wide and waved her hands. “Then she began carrying on over how Netherfield had killed Wickham—you know how she can be. She worked her way into full hysteria and took much of the Council with her. Auntie finally dosed her with laudanum and dragged her off, leaving it to me to calm not one, but six major dragons and convince them all not to be done with Netherfield simply because it would be more convenient than sitting through the special council.”
“Surely, they would not have done such a rash thing!”
“I like to think so, but matters did become quite heated. To be entirely honest, it was frightening when the council dragons began arguing with their Keepers. Once Lydia left though, reason began to return. They listened to Netherfield’s testimony about Wickham and what I had to say about it, as well. I think the final sticking point is removed now. I expect they will recommend he be accepted into the Order. They even have a territory—well away from the coast and known smuggling tunnels—in mind for him. A small one, but it will be sufficient.”
“And a Keeper?”
“They have not said, but it should not be difficult to find one. Netherfield is a rather docile creature, a pacifist if you will. As long as the Keeper is literate and well-read, I think he will be a content and compliant member of the Order.” Elizabeth fell into the nearest chair.
“I am sure Lydia will settle down a bit once she becomes used to everything around her. Perhaps I will have a talk with her, with your permission, of course. Only just coming into this myself, I think there is some sympathy I can offer her that might be helpful to assuage her feelings of ill-use.”
“I am sure Auntie will be grateful for any assistance you can offer. She has a reputation as an excellent governess for unmanageable daughters, but at times, it looked at though she may have met her match in Lydia.” Elizabeth tapped her fist against her lips. “How is Mama?”
“You must come over for tea as soon as there is a spare moment. She is quite happy. You are to be married, most advantageously to Mr. Darcy. Mary is married to Mr. Collins. Jane, of course, has Mr. Bingley. Lydia is to be sent to school, and now
she and Kitty will live in London, something she has always dreamed of. Despite your father’s uncertainty, I am convinced it will be a good thing for them all. We will introduce both your mother and Kitty into society here and keep watch over them. Your mother will be kept agreeably occupied while your father can spend his days at the Order offices devoting himself to his duties as Historian. In many ways, I wish this had happened much sooner.”
“Perhaps it is all for the best. So much has changed in so very short a time. Is it wrong to say how very much I have enjoyed certain aspects of it?”
“You mean Mr. Darcy?”
Her cheeks burned. “I can hardly imagine a better man or Dragon Keeper. But there is more than that.” She rose and stood near the window, tracing the edge of the mullions with her fingertip. “I do not know how to explain. The past few months we have been so deep in dragon matters. I have never felt more at home, more useful. It is like I have found where I belong. But now that matters have finally resolved, things will return to the … mundane.”
“Raising Pemberley is going to be mundane?”
“Hardly. She will be as much a handful as Lydia, though in some ways much easier to deal with. But I know I shall miss being about the business of the Order, involved in something larger than myself. I know I am to be mistress of a great estate, and that should be sufficient for me, managing my own home and family, but … what kind of woman am I that I am not certain it will be, that I may want something more?”
Phoenix twittered and buzzed toward them. “Come, come! See what April has done!”
April cheeped from the nesting box.
Elizabeth hurried to the hearth. “My gracious, and with no word of this to us! You have been very busy this morning.”
Three glistening eggs lay in the middle of the nesting box. Two were half the size of a chicken’s egg, vaguely blue, mottled and streaked. The third was much smaller by comparison, it probably would not hatch, but that was not unusual for a first clutch.
“How beautiful they are!” Elizabeth knelt beside them.
