Page 17 of Dragons of the Great Wyves: Fire and Song
“I told you of my meeting.” Mary met his gaze unflinchingly, but it seemed an oddly terse answer for her.
Lord Wellington apparently agreed. “Miss Bennet, I know we have clashed. If that has fostered your distrust, I am sorry, but for me, it only proves that you are your sister’s equal. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy is a great wyfe. Miss Georgiana Darcy is the second. And you… draca alight on your shoulder. In London, a clandestine network of women even call you ‘Great Wyfe’…”
Mary laughed bitterly. That was all.
Lord Wellington drew breath, but my frustration at this dance, or my pride, or perhaps the prospect of war entering Surrey made me interrupt. “There is no need to badger her. It is not Mary. I am the third great wyfe.”
Lord Wellington turned to me, surprised. Well, a little surprised. Not a lot. Mr. Darcy, however, was staring at me as if I had lost my mind.
Whatever their reactions, ending the secrecy felt good. Healthy. Keeping secrets had not done me any favors. And it was not like I was shouting the news in a town square.
That led neatly to my next announcement. “So,” I continued, “I shall go to Surrey and find the amulet.”
“Surrey!” Mr. Knightley burst out beside me. “Bands of Blackcoats roam through Surrey. The French army is massing on the border. One does not simply walk into Surrey!”
I gave him a pleasant smile. “Certainly not. I thought I would take the barouche and four. That will make a grand entrance!”
“A grand entrance,” he repeated, stunned.
Gentlemen were so thickheaded. “I am joking. It is two hundred miles. A barouche is completely impractical. What if it rains?” His eyebrows rose farther,so I put my hand on his. “Listen. What could be more natural than a lady returning home? It raises no suspicion. I know everybody, so I can make inquiries. It is sensible.”
Unexpectedly, Mary supported me. “Emma is right. In Fènnù’s memories, the great wyfe of healing wielded the amulet. Emma senses Yuánchi. She is the amulet’s intended owner. She may find it where no one else could.”
“There!” I said. “It is settled. In any case, it is time I returned to Hartfield.”
“This is wrong,” Georgiana exclaimed, turning from the telescope. “We must stop the blight. It is driven by the broken song, and it is growing stronger. The great wyves must stay together. That is the only way to heal the song.”
“You were just in London,” I pointed out. “When I find the amulet, I will bring it back, and we will all be together again.”
Mr. Knightley placed his hand atop mine. I realized I had held his this whole time.
“I will go with you,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said. “That is very welcome.”
I had hoped he would offer. His depiction of Surrey concerned me, and it certainly ruled out bringing a housemaid as companion. But traveling with a single gentleman had its own complications. I could ask Harriet to join us, but I thought she would refuse. My half sister had been distant since discovering I knew about Papa’s scheme to conceal her true parentage.
People stood, and the formality broke into odds and ends of conversation. Lord Wellington and Mr. Darcy launched a discussion of iron-barred carriages with Mr. Knightley. Those had been fashionable a year ago when ladies fanned themselves in wide-eyed consternation at the thought of feral draca. Now there were real risks on the road.
Mary said to me, a little grudgingly, “You are brave.”
“I am going home,” I said.
Mary nodded. She seemed to understand that.
I stepped closer and whispered, “Do you know more of the flute?”
“Nothing that would aid the army,” she said flatly.
She excused herself and went to Georgiana. They spoke softly, their foreheads almost touching, then Mary left without a backward glance. She often left gatherings suddenly. I was not sure if it was a statement or an oversight.
Mr. Knightley drew me aside. And farther aside.
“Yes?” I said when we were jammed by the farthest window.
“I made a serious error. I must tell you unpleasant news. If this changes your mind about the trip, I will explain to the others.”
Was the war worse than he said? “You had better tell me.”
