Page 64 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
“Val, please consider,” Merna said. “Would it be so bad if Longbourn falls? And think of the disruption you’ll cause with an egg.”
Valeraine considered.
If they were not a dragon house, then Alyce’s newly awakened hopes of marrying Nethenabbi would be dashed. The social divide between them would be too great. Unless the marriage was part of the merger to transfer the tenants to Netherfield. Then, it would be unobjectionable enough. If their love was true, even objections wouldn’t stop it.
Valeraine and her sisters wouldn’t be able to secure a marriage to a high house. But Kesley had little prospects, as a spare son from a low house. He might stay by her side. Merna did not yearn for marriage. Selaide, with her charms, would flirt herself into a fine match, even if not with a dragoneer.
Longbourn house would fall, and nobody would mourn it. Except Valeraine.
Valeraine would lose her dragon. How would she ever find contentment without a dragon to fly? How would she ever sleep peacefully knowing she failed her family?
And yet, could she really save the house? Merna was absolutely certain an egg would inconvenience the tenants. Valeraine allowed that this might be true. However, in the long term, it was the only solution for Longbourn’s decline.
Valeraine was doing all this for Longbourn. But what if Longbourn didn’t need her sacrifice?
She could give up racing and be the charming daughter. She could care for Lelantos until he died, then die herself in a house of no consequence.
What maudlin thoughts. She needed the perspective of someone else, someone who cared for dragons like she did. For the first time that week, she truly missed Kesley.
Chapter forty-four
Dragon Rampage: Accident or Sabotage?
by our trusted correspondent, Scaleheart
You’ve doubtless already heard the splashy news that the dragon H— (of house V—) went on a rampage and burned down C— manor. The dragon was attending a derby there, two days’ flight from her own nest. If only the dragon had been better trained and hatch-mothered, perhaps her nest-tetchiness wouldn’t have been so bad.
But I have exclusive news that you doubtless have not heard yet. Mr. V— (rider of dragon H—) has begun to say (quite after the fact) that he properly tied H— down, and there was no way she could have gotten loose. He says the tether had been cut free, not tugged by the dragon.
Now, allow me to nip this in the bud: I do not believe Mr. V—, and neither should you. If this had been the case, he would have immediately exclaimed it, not thought of the story days later.
I know with his charisma and charm, many will believe his tale. Indeed, at the ball where he debuted this story there were many who did. However, I urge you all to remember a year ago when I last reported on Mr. V—. Then, I caught him manufacturing a new, more valuable pedigree for one of his dragons. Mr. V— is a known liar with a mismanaged nest, why should this incident be considered any differently?
Chapter forty-five
Kesley returned to Longbourn in mid-January. He had taken the mail coach back, arriving at Longbourn in the evening, and slept the next morning away to recover.
Valeraine was waiting in the nest, leaning against Lelantos’ side, enjoying his soft warmth. He was sleeping and she could feel the twinkle of feelings from his dreams — happy and adventurous. It was soothing to her mood, but Merna still nagged at her thoughts, sending them spinning every time they almost settled.
Kesley entered the nest, freshly made up for the day just in time for lunch with Valeraine. This is what she needed, whom she’d been waiting for.
“Val!” he greeted cheerfully.
“Kesley,” Valeraine said morosely.
“Did things with Mr. Pemberley go that poorly?”
“No. Well, yes. Kind of.”
Kesley came to her side, leaning against Lelantos. The dragon twitched in his sleep, and Valeraine felt his small irritation. Even unconscious, the curmudgeonly dragon wanted to make his dislike of Kesley known.
“What happened?” he asked kindly. “Will Pemberley keep your secret?”
“Yes, he will,” she sighed. “That’s not — the issue is that I’m questioning everything now.”
“Everything?”
“Well, if Longbourn really could use an egg, or if we should just let the house die.”
