Page 11 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“You may have your wish,” I said, looking out the window. Black clouds squatted on the horizon.
“A horse relieves labor, but their sentience is problematic,” Mary said. That drew curious looks, but Mary did not notice. She was staring wistfully at the plate of bacon.
After a bemused silence, I said, “Jane should take the carriage.”
“Jane must ride,” Mamma said firmly. “It is sure to rain, and then she must stay all night, and see Mr. Bingley after his dinner.”
“That is a most obvious scheme!” I said.
“I do not want a sentient horse,” Lydia said. “Can we get a white one instead? They are prettier.”
“We are not buying a new horse!” I said, feeling the conversation was offtrack, if it had a track in the first place. I blew out an exasperated breath, reached for the bacon, and found the plate empty.
As Mamma planned,it rained ferociously. Jane certainly could not return. But the following morning, I received this note:
“My dearest Lizzy,
I find myself very unwell this morning from a sting, although I am sure it is no worse than a bee sting. My ankle is strangely swollen, which has caused a headache. My kind friends insist on my seeing Mr. Jones. I am sure he will set it right, so do not be alarmed.”
Mamma was ecstatic. “A bee sting! Is not Jane clever to encounter a bee in such weather! But does she say nothing of Mr. Bingley?”
“She did not say it is a bee sting,” I said, rereading with growing alarm.Very unwell. “I must go. I wish to be there when Mr. Jones visits.” Mr. Jones was the Meryton apothecary and surgeon, and he had cared for our family since Jane and I were children.
“Go? Whatever for?”
“It is not abeesting, Mamma!” I held the note in front of her. “Do you not know your own daughter? When has Jane called herself ‘very unwell’?”
My father looked up from his book. “Shall I send for the horses?”
“They are loaned to Mrs. Trew,” I said. “I shall be there faster if I walk.”
“We can go as far as Meryton,” offered Kitty, and Lydia nodded happily.
“Make haste, for I leave promptly.”
We set out, Lydia chattering about visiting the officers’ wives, but Kitty silent and concerned. We parted in Meryton, Kitty hugging me tight. I continued, jumping stiles and tromping puddles, and my stockings were dripping when I spotted Netherfield House.
The house had not been occupied for several seasons, and if I were not so worried about Jane, I would have admired the improvements. The park was trimmed and planted, the manor shutters repainted, and the chimneys smoking. It looked welcoming and grand, much larger than Longbourn.
But as I approached, I met a change I could not ignore. A draca charged toblock my path. She was the length of our firedrake but wingless, a quadruped with a heavy build like a bulldog or badger—a lindworm, although there had been none in our neighborhood. She must be the bound draca of Mr. Bingley’s elder sister, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, and her husband.
Unable to fly, a lindworm is considered inferior to our firedrake. But she was savage to confront, with long fangs and armored scales over a muscular frame.
I stopped, expecting intervention from the household, but nobody emerged.
“I must not be delayed,” I told her, having picked up the questionable habit of arguing with draca from my dawn visits. Her response was bared teeth and a steaming hiss, and my worry for Jane flared. I snapped, “Move!” To my surprise, she slunk into the draca house.
I rang and was shown into the breakfast parlor. Mr. Darcy rose instantly, followed by a surprised Mr. Bingley. Mrs. Hurst and Miss Bingley greeted me from their chairs while eyeing my shoes, which were dripping muddy water on their polished floor.
“Have you beenwalking?” Miss Bingley asked faintly, a cup of chocolate half-raised in her hand.
“I wished to hurry,” I said. “It is only three miles.”
Mr. Bingley filled the astonished silence. “I am very pleased you came. Your sister is in no condition to receive visitors. The care of a beloved sister is most welcome.”
I was shown to the guest room door, and my heart plunged when I saw Jane in bed. She was deathly pale, her eyes feverish, and her beautiful hair bedraggled and damp. I hugged her, shocked by the weakness of her grip and the extreme heat of her body.
“Oh, Lizzy, I longed for you to come. Although I am sorry. I should not have troubled you…” Even Jane did not dare pursue that direction when I gave her a glare. “Very well, I admit I am only glad.”
