Page 15 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
Valeraine should thank Nedine for the party and see if she was as impressed as Mr. Rosings at Lelantos’ flight. Perhaps Valeraine had not damaged the reputation of Longbourn as much as she feared.
It wasn’t until Valeraine had slipped into the circle of conversation around Nedine that she realized it contained Mr. Pemberley. His face was the most tranquil Valeraine had seen it as he listened to Nedine, who was telling some anecdote of hatch-mothering. When Pemberley noticed Valeraine, a sour look polluted his face.
When Nedine noticed Valeraine, she wrapped up her story with a pat laugh and went hunting for new prey. “You poor girls. Longbourn house raced after all, didn’t they?” She pouted perfectly, with just the right amount of condescending pity to both insult Valeraine and to display her graceful lips. “I would have thought Mr. Longbourn would have put a stop to that foolishness.”
“Lelantos was in the lead for a good leg of the derby,” Valeraine said. She tried to moderate her tone, not rise to the bait, painfully aware that she sounded like a child, arguing for sweets. She added, “Your brother raced so well, Nedine. It’s clear that Nethenabbi house has a gem in your dragon.”
“We do.” Nedine’s preening was subtle, a tilt of her head to acknowledge the point in all modesty. “It was so tragic to see Longbourn do well at the beginning, only to fall behind. Your dragon must have been a thing to see in his prime, six hundred years ago? Some houses don’t know when to retire their dragons, wouldn’t you say, Pemberley?”
Pemberley, who seemed to be allergic to being put on the spot, said simply, “It seems a common failing, to assume to have a more favorable position than one actually has.”
Nedine laughed as if he had said something boisterously witty, then said to Valeraine, “Where are my manners? This is Mr. Bennington Pemberley, master of the Pemberley nest.” She placed her hand on his forearm, familiarly. “And this is Miss—”
“Yes, we met earlier,” Pemberley cut in, obviously wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible. He looked wistfully at the rest of the dancers. “Your brother introduced us.”
“You always did have such a sharp memory,” Nedine said. “Until we meet again, Miss Longbourn. Best of luck to your house.” She steered Pemberley to greet her other guests.
As they walked away, Valeraine heard Nedine say to him, “I’m surprised my brother had the time to introduce you to anyone tonight, with how he’s carrying on with Miss Alyce Longbourn.”
Valeraine shadowed behind the pair, staying within earshot.
“I believe it was an attempt to secure her good opinion by showing kindness to her sisters,” Pemberley said. “He wanted me to dance with them.”
“It seems not to have worked, as you haven’t danced with anyone besides me. Do you not find Miss Valeraine pretty?”
Pemberley replied, “Valeraine is tolerably comely, but not handsome enough to tempt me. I am in no mood to dance with ladies from a dying house pretending to a higher station.”
Valeraine truly hated few people. Earlier, Selaide dominated her hatred, but that was a playful feeling that, though fierce, was balanced by protectiveness and familiarity. Valeraine had a dislike for Nedine, but also admired her strong knowledge, beauty, style, and status among the dragon houses.
Now, there was a new contender for Valeraine’s ire. This was a prickly hate, twisted and full of thorns. Mr. Pemberley had opposed her racing in the derby, attacked her dragon, rejectedher as a dance partner, insulted her family, and finally insulted her beauty. Even someone as angelic as Alyce would have difficulty feeling anything positive.
Valeraine returned to sit by Merna and told her what had happened. She concluded, “Pemberley is the rudest man in Kinella, and I hope his future lady is exactly what he deserves. Perhaps someone who has terrible taste in tea and is scared of dragons.”
Merna laughed, and Valeraine felt she had won a point.
Merna said, “I heard he has thirty-one dragons at his nest. That is sure to attract many ladies to him, most of them odious fortune-hounds.”
Valeraine watched the dancers, with their beautiful gowns. One of the prettiest was Selaide. As she spun, her cream skirt twirled elegantly.
Valeraine needed a good dance partner to cheer her up. She gestured to a fine looking man in a gray suit. “Do you know who that is? Is he single?”
Merna’s sources were a mystery, but she could always tell you anyone’s business. She peered at the man a moment, and said, “That is Mr. Glywicks. If he is single is a subtle thing. Officially, he is currently engaged to Miss Wintgomery.”
“The fallen —”
“Yes, that house. But look at how he laughs with that woman? He has danced for all but one of the songs, all with eligible ladies. He has called off the engagement, I am sure of it.”
“So he is single?”
“Yes, but recently and scandalously so. I would not recommend trying to dance with him.”
Selaide came by at that moment, with Kesley in tow, and demanded to know what they were smiling about.
Valeraine left Merna to tell the tale and escaped on the arm of Kesley. They joined the dance, easy partners from long familiarity.
“Has anyone suspected you?” Kesley murmured in her ear.
“No, though I’ve heard many flattering things tonight about the masked rider,” Valeraine said. “Has anyone suspected you?”
