Page 111 of Miss Bennet's Dragon
“To claim Longbourn, the heir must settle his draca in theemptydraca house for a se’nnight.”
Mary’s folded arms relaxed enough that her fingers could tap thoughtfully. “This is why you forced our drake to stay.”
“Mary, be cautious what you say aloud.”
“I am cautious. I have not spoken of what happened.” Her eyes were assessing me. “Your feat left me curious but puzzled. Now, I am impressed.”
“There is more. The consort of a bound heiress may claim Longbourn. And our freshly bound brother has asked to stay a week.”
Mary gave a most un-Mary-like snort of disgust.
I made my decision. “I shall speak with Mr. Wickham. Alone. Can you take Lydia and Mamma to visit Jane?”
We found them in the garden. Lydia, flapping with frivolous lace, was chattering at Mamma and Kitty about her wedding. Kitty, clad in sober black, had the good sense to appear uncomfortable.
Lydia was mid-story. “It is so annoying when people do not know I have married! We overtook William Goulding in his fancy curricle, and I was determinedhenotice, so I let down the side-glass and had our ferretworm climb up and hiss. The man jumped a foot and lost his hat! I had a good laugh before—”
Mary barged in. “Jane is too ill to come down. Shall we go up to greet her?”
Lydia frowned, but she grudgingly followed Mary into the house. Kitty and Mamma trailed behind.
Wickham, of course, could not visit Jane in her room. He lounged by the laurel hedge with a half-smile.
We were steps away from where he had accosted me. That was before he was married, but even so, it was an unpleasant sensation.
I gave my own half-smile and said, “Shall we speak inside?”
I chose our sitting room, unused this early. The fireplace was unlit, and the windows faced away from the morning sun. The lingering chill cooled the back of my neck as I claimed the center of the room.
Wickham stopped in the doorway, leaning against the frame. He swung the door back and forth a few inches. “What shall we speak of, dear sister?”
“Regrettably, you will not be able to stay at Longbourn.”
“No? I wonder if you have thought that through.” He stepped into the room and closed the door, shutting us in together, alone.
That was improper—even threatening—but it only made the remaining fragments of my discomfort fall away.
“My thoughts are straightforward,” I answered. “Our draca house is occupied, and Longbourn firmly secured by my mother. It would foster hopeless expectations if you, dear brother, resided here for a se’nnight.”
Wickham swaggered toward me, ending within arm’s reach. “You are bold, Elizabeth. A most attractive trait in a woman. But you have not considered your options.” He smiled the same smile I once found charming. Now, it was a thin smirk. “A woman’s right to property is, at best, that of a tenant. Your livelihood will be uncertain until a man holds Longbourn.” He spread his arms in exaggerated self-presentation. “Who better than a loyal brother?”
The disturbing truth was that he was right. Some distant male cousin would hear of my father’s death and announce a claim to Longbourn. With the prejudice against widows who held draca, I had no confidence the law would take our side. My mother was not Lady Catherine, whose personality and powerful connections could face down challengers.
But that was an unknown risk. The risk two feet in front of me was clear. “I prefer to wait for an even more loyal brother.”
“Loyalty is earned,” he said softly. “The sister with raven eyes and ivory spine is much more interesting than childish Lydia. You liked me once. Why not again? A man will take Longbourn. Better a man who appreciates you. I would give you a bedroom of your own. You could secure your place in a heartbeat.”
He reached for my face.
“Do not touch me,” I said. “This time, I will be less forgiving.”
His hand hesitated an inch away.
I smiled, wide and cold. “Lest you wonder if my threats are idle…” I gestured lazily toward the windows.
Wickham’s eyes followed and widened.
I did not need to look. I sensed our drake a dozen yards outside, watching us through the glass, his wings beating in the complex whorls he used to hang in midair.
