Page 13 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
But, no. There would only be more gossip if she was seen to arrive at the party and then leave again. She would socialize and give these guests a splendid impression of Longbourn. She would, at the very least, like to have a word with Nedine Nethenabbi and try to repair some of the damage that the unfortunate derby showing had created.
Chapter thirteen
“Do you see our host there, Mr. Nethenabbi?” Alyce asked. She was sitting to Valeraine’s right, and blatantly trying to change the subject from Valeraine’s eternal hatred for their youngest sister. They could only stew in silence for so long before Alyce felt the need to lighten the mood.
Valeraine searched the crowd of dancers and spotted him, in a pale rose-colored suit that he wore ravishingly well. “He seems an enthusiastic dancer.”
“He is.” Alyce smiled as if Valeraine had complimented her, instead of a new acquaintance. “I have danced with him twice so far. He is also an excellent conversationalist. Did you know he has flown across the Potune ocean? He missed Kinella so much, he has decided to come here and make a home.”
“He also said that Alyce’s hair reminded him of the sunrise,” Merna reported in a bored tone. She sat at Valeraine’s left, and had likely been planted in that chair the whole evening. “Whichis exactly the drivel that unimaginative men use to flatter their ladies.”
“It has some merit,” Valeraine said, hoping to preserve Alyce’s jubilant mood. “A sunrise is golden and rosy, precisely like the shade of her hair.”
“I think he meant it sincerely.” Alyce looked dreamily on the dragon lord of Netherfield, dancing with another woman. “He’s so full of light and happiness. And he has bonded a dragon! They say only the most honest of souls accomplish it.”
Was Valeraine an honest soul, then? She didn’t feel it, sitting next to her sisters who didn’t know she was the masked rider.
Though the joy of the race. That had felt honest, at least.
Merna had a topic she was more interested in (not a difficult achievement when the alternative was her sister’s crush). “Kesley rode passably, earlier.”
Alyce was cordial, willing to be led to this celebration of their house’s achievement. “Yes, indeed. Of course we never doubted —”
“I very much doubted his ability,” Merna interjected. “We all know how Lelantos has his prejudices against Kesley. But even those who were unaware of that great enmity were impressed.”
“Really?” Valeraine hardly dared to hope. Even with their poor placing in the derby, had they turned any heads? Who would have been impressed by the mediocrity Valeraine had achieved?
Alyce confirmed, “There was chatter at the beginning of the race about how old Lelantos is, how terrible his odds. All eyes were on him. Nobody missed how well he did in the beginning, how close it could have been if not for that collision.”
Merna nodded. “I didn’t think Kesley could get him to race that well, but Lelantos has more passion for flying than we give him credit. Of course, everyone also saw that our rider was masked, and there’s been much talk.”
“Do they…” Valeraine ventured, “Do they know that it is Kesley?”
“It seems the Nethenabbis have been quiet enough that the news has not spread.”
The song ended, and Alyce whispered, as if they were suddenly telling scandalous secrets, “I have the next dance with Nethenabbi.”
Mr. Nethenabbi gathered up a gentleman in tow — the rider of the red dragon, second place in the derby — and came to where the Longbourn girls sat. “Miss Longbourn,” he said, obviously addressing Alyce (the only Miss Longbourn he had eyes to notice), “this is my stalwart companion, dragon master Bennington Pemberley.”
Pemberley hardly glanced at Alyce for the introduction. His green eyes were instead on Nethenabbi, with a grimace, as if Mr. Nethenabbi were doing him a great inconvenience. Pemberley was dressed in a dour black suit. The only interesting thing about it was the lace on the cuffs and collar of his shirt. Obviously expensive, but also lacking in style or interest. It was well-tailored, though, showing off Pemberley’s strong arms and large shoulders to great effect.
Alyce smoothly took up the introductions. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Pemberley. These are my sisters, Miss Valeraine and Miss Merna. Our youngest sister, Miss Selaide, is dancing at present.” Alyce said it with such poise that you could imagine she was content to waste time with these dull introductions, instead of claiming her dance with Nethenabbi. Valeraine knew her tells though; Alyce’s hand nervously rubbed at her gown.
Nethenabbi had no intention of prolonging the conversation. “I believe the next song is our dance, isn’t it?”
“Certainly.”
They beamed at each other, young fools already thinking themselves in love after one afternoon tea and two dances.
Nethenabbi turned to Pemberley, acting (poorly) as if an idea had just occurred to him. “Now, Pemberley, here are two ladies to whom you are introduced.”
Pemberley grunted.
“It seems they are in need of dance partners.” Nethenabbi said.
The silence which followed spoke volumes.
“I have no desire for dancing,” Merna said. Her tone brooked no argument.
