Page 62 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
In short, he was caring and attentive. He was defensive of his friends — to a fault. He was honest in his writings as Scaleheart. He was trustworthy with her secrets. He was not violent as she had supposed.
And he wanted to marry her.
In that, he was presumptuous. He hadn’t even asked — simply outlined his reasons for hating her and her family and assumed, “When we are married.” There, she could easily hate him. He hadn’t considered her opinion or consent. And why not? He had thirty-one dragons. He was one of the wealthiest men in Kinella. He was from a prestigious family, which was of so much higher status than her own. He didn’t have a painfully embarrassing Mamma spreading rumors. The only thing that could be construed as a blemish on his character or house was that he was writing anonymous scandal sheet columns which espoused controversial opinions that racing was dangerous and that dragons should always be treated with respect.
Valeraine wondered if he ever would have told her he was Scaleheart, if they did wed. Would he have kept it from his wife? What kind of a husband would he have been? Continually condescending, never forgetting her lower status? Distant and cold? Warm and affectionate? Treating her with care and honor — or was that only reserved for his dragons?
What kind of man was it who hatch-mothered? A domineering one who needed to control everything in the nest? Or one who cared so deeply for the dragons that he wished to be involved in the most delicate of steps?
Valeraine didn’t know which type of man Pemberley was. This morning, she would have guessed the first. Now, she suspected the second.
Pemberley was a good man. Not a perfect man (she wasnotgoing to forgive him for Alyce’s letters, nor for the insulting proposal), but he was a better man than many others she had known.
Should she have accepted him? Even after that insulting and disastrous proposal, should she have said yes to the arrogant man and his thirty-one dragons?
She would never be happy to part from Lelantos, or with a man who looked down on her. She would never be content being the wife of Pemberley, even if the money was good and the company more tolerable than she had suspected.
Valeraine could now write him a response. She would tell him that she would keep his secret (she would have to swear Alyce and Kesley to secrecy, but did not regret confiding in them). She would apologize for the slanderous accusation of the death of Mr. Allencourt (though not of his meddling in Nethenabbi’s courtship). She would tell him that she had forgiven him for some of the things he had done, but not all.
That kind of letter would give him hope of a marriage between them, no matter how she worded it to the contrary. Men always thought any smile was a yes, even if it was accompanied by a no. She wouldn’t toy with him, after he had given her so much truth. Silence was the best route. She wouldn’t speak to him again, and the whole matter would resolve itself in time. She could go on disliking him (alas, she had lost the capacity for hate now), and he could move on from his foolish, contrary admiration for her.
They would both move on, and become people independent of each other.
Valeraine lowered herself to the ground, and went back to the house in search of proof of Pemberley’s words.
Chapter forty-three
Valeraine found Merna reading a book, tucked away in the servants’ quarter of the house. It was one of Merna’s frequent haunts, because Mamma didn’t go there.
“Could I borrow one of yourDragoneer’s Journals?” Valeraine asked.
Merna immediately perked up, dropping her book to her lap and fixing Valeraine with a stare. “What do you want them for?”
“To research an older Scaleheart column. Do you remember the one —”
Valeraine had uttered the magic words, and Merna was standing and leading the way. They went to Merna’s bedroom, which held a trunk in the corner. It was full of newssheets, carefully archived.
“Which one are you looking for?” Merna asked, finally stopping to check Valeraine was still with her.
“The one that reports the death of Mr. Allencourt. Selaide had it from you a few months ago...”
“How could I forget? I had to ask her to return it four times. It’s about the derby at Marfont.” Merna produced the article in question.
Mr. P— is the perfect example of the worst of dragon riders: violent, grandiose, and proud. In this derby, many reputable witnesses saw him deliberately rip at the wing of poor Mr. Allencourt’s dragon, causing them both to fall to their untimely end.
“Do you know who this Mr. P— is?” Valeraine pointed to the section, and Merna read it quickly.
“That should be Mr. Ponsinter. I think his name is finally used a few weeks later, when a public lawsuit was brought against him — unsuccessfully.” Merna, for completion’s sake, pulled out that sheet and confirmed it. “Why are you interested in the death?” she asked.
“It’s not this death, per se. I had been under the misunderstanding it was about Mr. Pemberley. I was just confirming my stupidity,” Valeraine said.
“The scandal sheets are difficult in that way. The writers are so circumspect as to create wholly new rumors. Scaleheart is better than most, though.”
Scaleheart had always been Valeraine’s favorite writer in theJournal. Now, she wondered at that. Would the pieces read differently, now that she knew it was a man of great means behind the pen? “Do you have a favorite piece by Scaleheart?” Valeraine asked.
Merna flashed her a smile. The fastest way to her heart was to appeal to her expertise. She dug through her trunk, coming to a paper that had to be a few years old.
Valeraine had certainly read this edition before, as she had with all ofThe Dragoneer’s Journalsince she learned to read. The allure of news of the dragon world, coming from the house of her uncle, had always been strong. She didn’t remember this article, though.
