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

by Maria Grace

  That sort of money could have kept him comfortable for a lifetime. At least, a lifetime not marked by extravagance and general profligacy. How many families lived well enough on such a sum?

  Yet Darcy had never laid such a charge at Wickham’s feet. Why would he protect Wickham so? Respect for Wickham’s father, or perhaps his own?

  Aunt and April both suspected Wickham and tried to warn her that there was no actual evidence of some instance of goodness, some distinguished trait of integrity or benevolence. The only signs in his favor: the general approbation of the neighborhood, and the regard which his social powers had gained him.

  Powers that Mr. Darcy lacked.

  That first evening she had met Wickham at the Phillips’—the impropriety of such communications to a stranger! How had she missed it before? The indelicacy of putting himself forward as he had done and the inconsistency of his claims with his conduct. He had no scruples in sinking Mr. Darcy’s character, though he had said that respect for the father would always prevent his exposing the son.

  Precisely the opposite to Darcy.

  It was all there had she only chosen to look. And Wickham’s attentions toward her must have been like those to Georgiana—designs to acquire by force a draconic legacy which he had not been given by nature. No wonder the Order considered deaf-speakers the greatest danger to dragonkind.

  And through it all, Darcy had refused to reveal anything that could harm his sister’s reputation.

  She wrapped her arms tight around her waist. How despicably she had acted! She prided herself on discernment and wit, valued her own abilities above Jane and Mary’s warnings. Good reason to heed the warning that pride goeth before a fall.

  Had she been in love, she could not have been more wretchedly blind. But vanity, not love, was her folly. So pleased with the preference of one, and so offended by the neglect of the other at the very beginning of both acquaintances, she courted ignorance, and drove reason away where either man was concerned.

  To finally see herself now, without the trapping of conceit, it was not a pretty sight. How could she ever face—

  “Miss Elizabeth?”

  After encountering her on this path so many times before, why did Darcy still look surprised to do so?

  She curtsied, pulling her cloak a little closer around her shoulders.

  “Are you well?” He peered at her in a way she would have previously considered as looking for fault, but now just seemed concerned. “Has your headache improved?”

  “I am as well as can be expected.”

  He matched her stride, and they walked on together in silence for a dozen paces.

  “Forgive me if I am intrusive, but I understand from Walker that you had an audience with Rosings yesterday.” How could he look at her that way—so kind and concerned—after he must know everything that had transpired?

  “You might call it that.” She would call it a thorough dressing-down.

  “Dragons are by no means delicate, but I fear that Rosings is probably worse than most. Much like her Keeper.”

  “Do you find dragons often resemble their Dragon Mates?”

  “It has been my experience that they do.”

  Her cheeks burned hot. After time solely in Darcy’s care, Pemberley was sweet and affectionate.

  “Or perhaps it is that the Mates begin to resemble their dragons. I have been finding myself in want of a new dog recently.” He cocked his eyebrow.

  She giggled. Had he always had such a charming sense of humor?

  “Do you not keep a pack of hunting hounds at Pemberley estate?”

  “True enough, but I was rather thinking of a house dog. What would you think of a pug perhaps?”

  “Oh, they are temperamental little creatures. Lady Lucas keeps one that does unspeakable things to the pillows.”

  Darcy hid a laugh in a cough. “I believe I met that dog whilst in Meryton. Definitely then, no pugs.”

  Her caught her gaze, his eyes so deep and expressive they dismissed all words from her tongue. Had he always looked at her that way?

  Unable to breathe, she broke eye contact.

  “Forgive me, sir, but I must speak. Pray accept my deepest apologies for both my father and Longbourn. I have been given to understand they treated you and Pemberley most abominably. I am mortified that he failed to render you more aid on your urgent errand. He is fortunate that you do not report him to the Order for his negligence.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back and walked on. “Pemberley is well, and that is all that matters, is it not? One could argue that the additions that have been made to dragon lore regarding the imprinting of newly-hatched dragons are worth what we all experienced.”

  “The additions to lore have not been accepted, yet. As I understand, the Conclave still wishes to examine Pemberley themselves. Rosings is still willing to sponsor her before them, is she not?”

  “Most definitely. She is convinced that Pemberley has imprinted properly, if not more strongly than usual.”

  She studied the dirt on the toes of her half boots. “I am grateful both for that and for your forbearance with my father. I know being old, ill, and set in one’s ways is little excuse, but it is all I have to offer on his behalf.”

  “Few of us are perfect.”

  “I am afraid though, I have no such excuses for Longbourn. To have thrown you and Pemberley out is utterly inexcusable by all standards. Not only was she a baby in need, but her rank alone should have compelled him to offer far more hospitality than he did. It is all the worse for having caused Pemberley’s current sufferings. Longbourn could have caused her serious harm, even her death. It is inexcusable.”

  Darcy dragged the toe of his boot through a clump of thick moss. “I confess, it will be difficult to see wyverns in a positive light after this, but I prefer to dwell on the fact that Pemberley is much improved and is forming a bond with my sister who is also much improved. For all the mischief wrought, there is some good to come out of it.”

  Perhaps he was right. It was best to remember the past as it gave one pleasure, not pain.

  “Whatever left you sister in such dread of dragons?” Hopefully he would not find the question impertinent.

  “When she was just ten years old, she ran away from her governess—a rather horrid woman, though she heard dragons. Apparently, she had been telling Georgiana horrible dragon histories. She had some wretched fascination with the period before the Pendragon Treaty and preferred stories of people being eaten by dragons. One can hardly blame Georgiana for running away. Unfortunately, she ran into Old Pemberley’s lair. She had not yet been introduced to him, and he was in his decline and decidedly cranky. She surprised him, and he her—”

  She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh heavens! I can just imagine! One’s first meeting with a major dragon can be shocking even when one is fully prepared. My sister Mary nearly fainted the first time she met Longbourn. I had prepared her for the sight, but the smell of his breath was too much for her.”

  “The venom does leave him with a ... rather remarkable odor.” He wrinkled his nose.

  “You are very gracious, sir.”

  “How long will you be staying on as Rosings’ guest?”

  Was that a hopeful note in his voice?

  “I do not know. I have to suppose that it is better to go too slowly than too quickly, in weaning her away from my presence.”

  “I pray you will forgive my intrusion in the matter, but I have been giving this a great deal of thought. Rosings has begun teaching Pemberley to hunt. Her first great growth spurt is supposed to happen in perhaps six weeks or so. I think it would be best to have her away from Rosings in about a month.”

  She gasped. “I had not thought of that! You are right! We cannot risk two hunting dragons in the same territory!”

  “I am relieved you agree. I did not want you to think I was trying to divide you from Pemberley again. Still though, there is no way to know if she might be able to separate from you withou
t harm by then. To that end, I should like to offer an invitation to Pemberley, on behalf of my sister, of course. You might come as her particular friend and remain as long as you wish—as long as you feel it necessary—”

  A clumsy, darkly-clad figure crashed through the trees. “Mr. Darcy! Cousin Elizabeth?”

  Mr. Collins?

  “I just called upon Lady Catherine and was told that you were staying at Rosings Park as her guest. Imagine my surprise! I had been under the impression that you were tending a sick relation. Should not your family know of your whereabouts?”

  “I ... I ...”

  “Miss Elizabeth has indeed been tending a sick relation, a good friend of my own who lives nearby.” Mr. Darcy’s voice shifted, subtly, into the more commanding tone that he used when in the presence of those below him—or was it with those who irritated him? It was difficult to tell.

  “Indeed? Lady Catherine made no mention of a mutual acquaintance.”

  “Probably because my friend has no good opinion of Lady Catherine,” Darcy said.

  No, now was not the time to laugh, despite the mischievous look in Darcy’s eyes.

  “In such a case, cousin, I think it may behoove you to spend some time in consideration of the appropriateness of your solicitous care of this person. If she has no good opinion of Lady Catherine, I cannot imagine that is the sort of company you should be keeping.”

  “Perhaps her opinion is the result of her illness, sir. Is it not the case that when we are ill, our judgement can be suspect?” Elizabeth asked.

  Darcy nodded, slow and somber. “I think it quite possible. Her infirmity has made it difficult for her to appreciate my aunt’s most unique qualities.”

  Collins clasped his hands behind his back, bobbing his head, almost a caricature of a sober vicar. “You may be completely correct. In that case, I feel it my duty as a clergyman to help set her thoughts straight. Take me to visit her directly, and I shall offer her my assistance.”

  “That is gracious of you sir, but her companion, one of my aunt’s choosing, is very, very protective. She is very cautious in who she allows to visit her charge.”

  “But I am vicar of this parish!”

  “A point well taken. Perhaps we might be able to convince her of your suitability as a visitor, but she is quite old and set in her ways. Allow us to approach her and see if she might be convinced.” How did Mr. Darcy manage to remain so serious?

  “Is Lady Catherine aware of this person? I am certain she cannot approve—”

  “I am certain that she would offer a great deal of forbearance in her condescension toward the ill and infirm.” Darcy’s brows knit, and Collins blanched. “Are you by chance on your way to the parsonage, sir?”

  “Indeed I am. I have not yet been there, instead going directly to see her ladyship first.”

  “Excellent, perhaps I may accompany you then. I was on my way there, taking my yearly tour of the park, identifying those maintenance issues which should be addressed. You might show me the needs of your parsonage first hand?”

  Collins’ knees buckled just a little. “I am grateful for your notice, sir. How kind, how magnanimous, that you would wish to see it with your own eyes.”

  Darcy turned to Elizabeth and bowed. “Pray give my greetings to our mutual friend.”

  He walked off, Collins chattering gratitude with every step.

  Why now of all times for him to return? How was she to manage Pemberley with Collins so close nearby?

  She clutched her temples. Another headache was not what she needed right now.

  The next morning, Georgiana came to her chambers an hour before breakfast was usually served.

  “Pray forgive the intrusion so early, but my aunt has sent me to fetch you immediately.” Georgiana curtsied. “I do not think she will accept any delay.”

  “My, it is early for her to have worked herself up into high dudgeon is it not?” Elizabeth chuckled. Lady Catherine was more like her cockatrix than she would have liked to admit.

  Pemberley came up behind her and peered over her shoulder.

  “It does seem so. I cannot guess what is in her mind right now.” Georgiana chewed her knuckle.

  “I have just promised Pemberley a walk. Will you take her?”

  Pemberley bumped Georgiana with her nose. “I want play tatzelwurms. The fur tickles my nose.”

  Georgiana scratched Pemberley under the chin. “You have become very fond of the barn wyrms, have you not?”

  “Dog and Puppy seem to like them as well.” Elizabeth laughed as the two hounds trotted up for their share of the scratches.

  “I will be happy to take a walk with her.” Georgiana hugged Pemberley’s neck.

  “I regret not being able to say the same about speaking with your aunt. April, perhaps you should go with Georgiana. I would not have you nipping at Lady Catherine’s ears.”

  April chittered but landed on Pemberley’s shoulder without further argument. Elizabeth saw them out and headed upstairs.

  Quincy met her just outside the door at the top of the stairs. “I was sent to ensure you go directly to Lady.” He sat back on his haunches and rubbed his forepaws together, his hood half raised.

  “She is agitated this morning?”

  “Most agitated, I am afraid. Please come.” He led her to a small parlor, talons clicking on the marble tile. “Good luck. If there is anything you need, you have only to say the word and all the house dragons will be here for you.”

  She swallowed hard, eyes stinging. It was a very sweet sentiment, but what could Lady Catherine want that would require draconic intervention? Taking a deep breath, she bit her lip and strode into the parlor.

  Lady Catherine sat in a large chair, bathed in shadow. Her silhouette looked vaguely like Rosings.

  How fitting.

  “Miss Bennet, close the door and come closer.”

  That tone of voice did not bode well. It was too cheerful and too commanding.

  “Sit down. I have a matter to discuss with you.”

  She sat in a small, hard chair near Lady Catherine’s. No doubt it had been placed there to reinforce the distinction of rank. So thoughtful.

  “I have a solution to all our problems.” Lady Catherine flipped her hand with a flourish as if nothing more need be said.

  “Pray excuse me, madam, but I do not recall having a problem for you to solve.”

  She rapped the arm of her chair with her knuckles. “Impudent girl, but I am too pleased with the recent turn of events to take notice. Everything has fallen into place exactly as I would wish.”

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

  Lady Catherine leaned forward and glowered. “Then be silent, and I shall explain.”

  How much like Rosings she sounded. Elizabeth bit her tongue.

  “Yesterday, Mr. Collins returned to the parsonage. He is your cousin and the heir to your father’s estate.”

  “I am well aware of all those facts.”

  Lady Catherine grumbled deep in her throat. Would she breathe sulfur fumes next? “I sent him to Longbourn to marry one of the dragon-hearing daughters there, thus getting him a wife, and solving the problem of Longbourn’s next Dragon Keeper.”

  “I do not recall Papa ever applying for assistance in the matter, either to you or to the Blue Order.”

  “Silence. I am always solicitous of the needs of lesser Dragon Keepers. It is the duty of rank. I do not know why Collins did not offer you marriage whilst he was at Longbourn—probably some stubborn foolish male thing—”

  Now she sounded like Cait.

  “But it may be remedied now. I have it all planned out. You shall marry Collins and stay at the parsonage while Pemberley remains here under your attentions. You can be near the little dragon until she outgrows whatever attachment she has to you. With Pemberley well-cared for, Darcy might marry Anne as he should.”

  Elizabeth clenched her teeth. The notion was nearly as disturbing as her marrying Collins.

/>   “Forgive me, Lady Catherine, but two major Dragon Keepers should not marry. Though not a law, it is the strong recommendation of the Blue Order. I know of no couple that has violated it. How can they possibly hope to manage the needs of two dragons on two separate estates, especially with one as young as Pemberley? She will need focused attention for at least a decade, if not more.”

  “Pemberley shall stay here. Rosings can assist in her care.”

  “Forgive me Lady Catherine, but you are sorely mistaken if you believe that Rosings will tolerate another dragon hunting in her territory.”

  “I have no doubt you can manage to convince the two to live together peacefully. You did after all succeed in getting a wild-hatched dragon to imprint properly on humans.” Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed.

  That was not a compliment. It was a threat.

  Horrid woman!

  “You would risk Pemberley’s life on this marriage scheme of yours?”

  Lady Catherine brushed aside her concern like a fly. “You will be handsomely rewarded for your efforts. I will see that your sons are all educated in the best way, properly connected and established in life. Your daughters will attend the finest seminaries and will be matched with gentlemen. They will want for nothing.”

  “Even with such an inducement, and it is a very great one, I cannot in good conscience engage in such an undertaking. It is far too dangerous.”

  “Miss Bennet, you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. I will not play games, negotiating back and forth with you. I have made my offer, and it is the only one you can expect. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and I shall certainly not depart from it.”

  Had Rosings taught her that speech? If she closed her eyes it would be difficult to tell whether it was Lady or dragon speaking.

  She leaned forward, face tightened into knots Elizabeth would not have supposed possible. “A report of a most alarming nature reached me that you, that Miss Elizabeth Bennet, would, in all likelihood, be soon united to my nephew, my own nephew, Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I resolved on making my sentiments known to you.”