Page 32 of Dragons of the Great Wyves: Fire and Song
I read on, frustrated. “There is not a word about Lizzy. He says we are to reimburse a farmer for his burned crop.”
The bottom of the page held an ink sketch, unquestionably a foul crawler in nascent form. Georgiana frowned at the drawing. “Do crawlers breed in crops?”
“It wasthoughtthey were subterranean,” I said. “Certainly, they have not spawned from entire fields. Hatching that many would endanger everyone within miles. We should inspect Pemberley’s crops. And the neighboring estates will need to inspect theirs…”
I puzzled over the problem. Inspecting Pemberley’s fields would disrupt farming for several days, a substantial effort. Inspecting the neighboring estates, however, required convincing wealthy and independent gentlemen to make the same sacrifice. Mr. Darcy had the influence to achieve that, but he was not here.
Georgiana was leaning lightly on my arm, studying her brother’s sketch and looking delicate draped in her white linen. That was an illusion—she was terrifyingly fearless—but she reserved her strength for private matters. She had never confronted a group of angry, dismissive men. I had, with unpleasant regularity.
“Mrs. Reynolds,” I said, “we must speak with Mr. Digweed and the heads of the farming cooperatives. Swiftly. Today. And could you also invite the masters of the neighboring estates to Pemberley to discuss the infestation? Tomorrow would be ideal.” Finally, my disconcertingly elevated status had a use, but still I hesitated. “To convince them, you may need to be… vague… about who is issuing the invitation.”
“Vague invitations are customary, madam,” she said blandly. “The housekeepers often communicate to ensure their masters have not overlooked some matter. The wording might be… ‘Confirming your master’s attendance at the Derbyshire landholders’ assembly to discuss crop infestations. Pemberley. Four o’clock.’ If that time will serve?”
“That is perfect. Thank you.”
Georgiana looked up from the letter. “They will not be easy to convince.”
“By then, we may have more proof than a sketch.”
I flipped over Mr. Darcy’s letter, then beamed and held out the page for the others. Georgiana cried out in delight, and Mrs. Reynolds positively grinned.
“P.S.: May 4. I have found Elizabeth. She is healthy but opinionated. We are traveling together and shall not immediately return to Pemberley. I have left my horse with the aforementioned farmer…”
The rest of the page frustrated me all over again. “He wrote a full paragraph of instructions to retrieve his horse! They are travelingwhere? Doingwhat? What does ‘healthy but opinionated’ mean?”
Georgiana was looking through the towering windows, her gaze distant. “The blight is so close now.”
“Are you not worried about your brother?”
She rolled her eyes. “Fitz is fine. Fitz is always fine. But Iamworried about Lizzy.”
“Lizzy is always opinionated.” I reread the page. “How will they travel if he has left his horse?”
Georgiana’s eyes sparkled. “They will fly!”
I scoffed. “Mr. Darcy riding bareback on a dragon?”
“You do not know Fitz. He will clamber up looking proper and stern, but inside he will be cheering like a schoolboy.”
“I doubt he is cheering. You did not see Lizzy when she returned. She was… ferocious. She completely refused him.”
Georgiana exchanged amused looks with Mrs. Reynolds.
“What is it?” I said.
“Lizzy refused him once before,” Georgiana said. “We had to live with him afterward. Let us just say it did not have the intended effect.”
I checked the envelope for more addenda and found a smaller sheet, folded and labeledG. I passed it to Georgiana. She opened it, then shared it with a knowing smile.
It was another ink sketch, spare and skillful lines swiftly drawn. Lizzy’s dark eyes stared defiantly, her jaw set in a way that indicated a sharp retort was brewing. One swirling pen stroke conveyed a mass of hair slung over her shoulder. The mark I had noticed on her cheek was a drop of ink carefully blurred by a fingertip.
“Yes, he is completely lost,” Georgiana pronounced cheerfully. “At least he draws well. I hope they sort this out before he resumes composing poetry.Thatwas painful.”
Mrs. Reynolds gave a choked cough.
Georgiana noticed the other sheet of paper I held, the melody transcribedfrom Fènnù’s memory. Her amusement faded. “Where did you get that? I have heard it before…”
A monstrous, clutching worry had fallen from my mind. Lizzy was alive and with her love. Months of thick dread evaporated like clouds in summer sun.
