Page 28 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
Valeraine was taking up the bed, lying down. She had complained of a headache, and refused to respond to her mother’s many hints that the ball was more important than her migraine. She felt a little guilty at not helping her sisters with their stays and hairstyles, but they were making do without her.
The ache in her arm was enough to rival any real headache, she was sure.
Someone sat down on the edge of the bed. Valeraine felt the shifting of the mattress, the quiet presence. She opened her eyes.
It was Merna. She was wearing a green gown that had been through Alyce and Valeraine before it had been given to her. Merna was the tallest of the sisters, so the second-hand gowns were always a little too short on her. This one had a strip of white ribbon added to the bottom (and to the waistband for balance) to extend it. Valeraine had heard Merna protesting against Selaide’s plans for her hair, and it looked like Merna had lost the fight. Her brunette hair (usually in a tight, secure, plain bun) was now in a riotous curling updo, with dragon scales carefully placed throughout as ornaments. Valeraine would admit (but not aloud) that the hair style complimented Merna’s round face well.
“You do not have a headache,” Merna stated conversationally.
Valeraine considered equivocating. Then discarded it; Merna would not be fooled. “How could you tell?”
“You looked around far too attentively. Why don’t you want to attend the ball? You know Mamma will be furious if you stay away.”
Merna didn’t know she was the masked rider.
Alyce already knew, and she was a bolstering presence. She may not agree with the need for Valeraine to race, but she wouldn’t betray the confidence.
Selaide already knew, and that was a pain. She loved to gossip. Valeraine imagined her telling her latest suitor, in a scandalized whisper, of the dragon rider in their family.
Kesley already knew, and that was perfect, because he was the one who was helping her with every step, with every ruse and sleight of hand. Kesley loved a game, and they were playing this one to win together.
What would happen if Merna knew? Merna was terribly judgmental, and honest. If she disapproved, the chance of her telling Papa was high. Merna was practical and crafty, and if she approved she would be a great help in continuing to deceive their parents. Merna, who loved the writings of Scaleheart, would be appalled at her racing. That was a given. Would she also protest? Would she work against Valeraine?
Did Valeraine trust her sister?
She trusted all of her sisters. (Yes, even Selaide. There wouldn’t be a masked rider without her, after all.) They would work together on this.
Valeraine sat up, slowly and gently, and slid aside the top of her blue gown (she had never done up the buttons on the back, the movement of it beyond her). It had a wide, square neckline, and so it hardly needed to move at all to fall off her right shoulder, revealing the bandages that Pemberley had tied onto her. They had captured the blood, none of it seeping through the last layer of bandage, but you could tell the layers underneath were dark.
“Val,” Merna breathed. “How did this happen? Did someone attack you?”
Valeraine could see Merna thinking, and left her to it. She would figure it out in a moment.
“You’re the Longbourn rider,” Merna said with the satisfaction of completing a puzzle. “I knew it wasn’t Kesley; he would never keep his seat as well as you did.”
Valeraine waited for the rest of the reaction. She waited for Merna’s righteous speech and disapproving scowl.
The scowl came. “Really, you should have confided in me. I almost told Mamma earlier that you didn’t really have a headache. If you expect to keep this from her, you really need more people covering for you.”
Valeraine laughed, and Merna’s scowl lessened.
“Let’s get you into your gown,” Merna said practically. “I promise to be careful with that shoulder.”
Selaide, seeing the bandage for the first time, came to look, bouncing on her toes. “What a terrible wound! Any deeper and I’m sure you would have lost your arm. Did Kesley bandage you? How romantic.”
“No, Pemberley did.” With those words, she had Alyce’s attention as well. Her sisters all clustered around the bed, inspecting her. “Though Kesley did have to help me into my dress, afterward. He was gentle, and looked away, and only held the sleeve so I could slip into it without straining myself.”
Selaide sat down with a bounce on the mattress. “Did he touch you? Did he slide his hand along your arm?”
Alyce had a more sensible question. “Pemberleybandaged you? Did he discover anything?”
“He thought I was a boy, racing too young. I think he only helped so he could emphasize how unprepared and unfit I was.”
“And you were,” Merna added. “You didn’t lose your arm, but for once Selaide isn’t being over-dramatic when she said it was close. If the dragon had been any lower…”
“I’ll find some proper flying leathers, for next time,” Valeraine promised.
Alyce, with her infinite softness, asked, “Is that wise? Should there be a next time?”
