Page 108 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“This is Mr. Sallow,” the parson said hurriedly.
Mr. Sallow was in his fifties, with grumpy eyes and dirty pockmarks. I recalled his estate now, larger than Longbourn but poorly managed and drowning in debt.
“Our drake seems content to me,” I said. That was not strictly true. Ihad fought down a challenge this very morning. But if our drake was vexed with me, that was a private matter.
Mr. Sallow’s frown puckered his chin. “I have disturbing reports about Longbourn, confirmed by members of the Church.” He pointed at our parson.
The parson stutteringly said, “I merely mentioned a letter which drew unusual events to my attention.” His eyes were apologetic. “In which your name was mentioned.”
“Myname?Who would send such a letter?”
“I had corresponded on the terrible business of your sister Lydia—”
“Lydia is properly married,” I corrected, angry now. After Papa’s sacrifice to protect our family, any other suggestion was painful.
“Of course. We all rejoice in that happy outcome.” The parson cleared his throat. “In his reply, the rector for Rosings remarked—”
“Mr.Collins?” My anger soared as I imagined him pontificating from his little desk.
“Yes. He emphasized the extreme benefit to your family from his inexplicable failure to bind, which deprived him of the inheritance of Longbourn. And then your mother’s extraordinary retention of your firedrake after your father’s death.”
Inexplicable. Extraordinary. Those were dangerous words. “We have been fortunate,” I said slowly. “I cannot understand how my name would be mentioned.”
Mr. Sallow spat his accusation. “It was unnatural forces that spoiled Mr. Collins’s binding. The same sinful evil that bound a firedrake to this estate. Evil rising from forbidden female rituals.”
I laughed. He sounded like a crazed street preacher in London. “You cannot be serious.” He stared aggressively. “Do not be coy. You accuse my family of witchcraft.”
“Another word for the same thing.”
“That is insanity. We are not in the Middle Ages or America. This is enlightened England. There is no such thing as witchcraft.”
“Explain how you bound a firedrake! How it remains!”
“I owe you no explanation. But if you troubled to inform yourself, you would know Bennet wyves have a history of strong binding.” I turned to the parson, who was watching wide-eyed. “I trust you do not mistake affinity with draca—a principle of gentry rank—for something unnatural?”
My direct appeal sparked a reply. “Certainly not. The Archbishop himself has reiterated that binding is a pillar of—”
Mr. Sallow broke in. “There are many opinions in the Church. And the Longbourn firedrakeisunnatural. It was always strange that it bound to a minor estate. And now it lingers after its master’s death, uncontrolled.”
“You forget yourself,” I said coldly. “Our drake is bound to my mother. That is not uncontrolled.”
The man snorted. “No proper widow holds a draca. And your mother could no more control a firedrake than she could manage an estate.”
I stood, taking the opportunity to stare down at this offensive man. “Mrs. Hill, please see our guests out. The gentleman is distraught over my father’s death. I fear he will say something unseemly.”
Mr. Sallow shot to his feet. “I will not leave without satisfaction.”
I was turning to go, but that stopped me. “What satisfaction would that be?”
“The firedrake must be moved. Taken to an estate where it can be properly kept.”
“I believe you bound a tunnelworm?” I said, knowing it was true. He flushed. A tunnelworm was the least prestigious of draca, a palm-sized creature that preferred to burrow in a bucket of sand during daylight. “You have neither the right nor the means to demand our drake, for I discern that is the satisfactory outcome you desire.”
“That animal is a menace. Do not mistake me, girl. If he threatens my livestock, I will take him.”
This time, I did laugh. “Have you seen our drake fight, Mr. Sallow? I have. I should like to see you try.”
I left, letting Mrs. Hill escort them to the door. She joined me at the window. We watched Mr. Sallow argue with the parson before they mounted their horses.
