Page 42 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
“I’m particularly interested in your breeding lines,” Valeraine said. She asked Miss Rosings, “Are your eggs from your dragons here, or are some of them co-parented with other nests?”
The conversation turned on and on, coming to dragons and away again. Valeraine couldn’t get it to stick on the topic, but she didn’t press it. She would start her dealing tomorrow, with the tour of the nest, with Rosings himself.
The first course was taken away by the serving woman, and the second course brought to the table.
All throughout the meal, Pemberley watched her. She did her best never to look at him. A few times, however, her treacherous eyes would stray to him, and be snagged in his gaze. It was intent, and serious. He saw her. He saw through her plans for Rosings, her hopes to save Longbourn. Would he consider her actions an attack on his cousin, and respond in kind?
She tried to stay pleasant, to keep things light and conversational with the Rosings. But Pemberley’s presence was a bellows stoking the fire of her indignation.
She hated being in his power. He was a despicable blackmailer. One word from him, and her reputation would be ruined. One command from him, and she would have to follow his direction. Would he give her feelings a single thought before he destroyed her?
His inaction would drive her mad. Why hadn’t he done something with her secret yet?
When the supper ended, Pemberley was first out of his chair, leaving the room in haste.
Valeraine made her polite excuses and followed as quickly as she could.
She just barely managed to catch sight of him at the end of the hallway, fast disappearing. “Mr. Pemberley?” she called.
He stopped his flight, and waited for her.
She was like a penitent approaching a king, walking up the dim hallway to where he stood. He had stopped between two candles on the wall, and the shadows suited him. She knew the attitude which she should be adopting: capitulating, flattering, begging this man.
“Miss Longbourn,” he greeted. “I did not know you were visiting.”
“I have dealings with Mr. Rosings.”
“I see. How is the health of your family?” Pemberley stood stiffly, aloof. It was as if the bold gaze he had maintained during dinner had been snatched from him, here in the intimacy of the empty hallway.
“They are fine. Alyce, particularly, has had an eventful season. Did you know she went to Kinellan City? Unfortunately, she has been unable to connect with Mr. Nethenabbi there.” She should not be poking this hornets’ nest.
“Well, Kinellan City is a large and busy place. Perhaps it is for the best,” he said.
“For the best, if my beloved sister is ignored by the man who was so enthusiastically courting her, just two months ago?”
“For the best, when people remain in ignorance. Wouldn’t you agree? Or would you prefer that all the details of your situation were known?” Pemberley was warming to the conversation now, passion encroaching on his tone.
Valeraine wanted to slap that smug superiority off of Pemberley’s face. But she restrained herself.
“My natural stubbornness would balk at being kept in the dark,” she said, abandoning her resolve to be civil. She took a step closer to him, until they were practically chest-to-chest. He would not escape her this time. “My courage always rises against opposition.” She would not surrender and live in fear of what he might do to her. “Mr. Nethenabbi doesn’t plan to relocate to Kinellan City permanently, does he?”
“I would not be surprised if he stays in Kinellan for several years, as the nest does not need him urgently, and the city holds so many divertissements. As you well know. You must not have a strong attachment to your nest, either.”
“What would you know of my feelings toward Longbourn? Do you suppose I raced on an immaterial lark?” Valeraine asked. Did Pemberley suppose it was not terribly painful for her to be separated from Lelantos — something that was his doing, not her choice?
“It cannot be a great self-denial for you to leave,” he said. “Haven’t you been in the city for nearly two months now? I would never leave Pemberley nest for such a period.”
“What have you ever known of self-denial, with your rich nest of dozens of dragons?”
“A gentleman denies himself much, for the good of his estate.”
“If only you behaved in a gentleman-like manner, that might apply to you,” Valeraine said.
Pemberley recoiled, taking a step back from her.
She had struck a nerve, there. A gentleman indeed did not stoop to blackmailing.
He strode near again, close enough to strike her. His eyes were wild. Then, he stalked closer still, his face next to hers.
