Page 77 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
There was never any question if the Longbourns would accept the invitation to stay at Pemberley manor. Despite Merna’s vocal protest and Valeraine’s frowns, Mamma would neverthinkof rejecting an offer from such a wealthy house. With the news that the Nethenabbis would also be staying at Pemberley for the week, the sisters quieted their protests in support of Alyce, who was shyly enthusiastic about the plan. Kesley, though not technically invited, stayed on with them, and none of the Pemberley household protested.
Pemberley’s plans to show Valeraine around the estate — to act as tour guide in introducing her to the staff and around the nest — were snuffed by the fact that he couldn’t walk, and so must be carried in a sedan chair. Pemberley was borne anywhere he wished by servants, but his wishing was dampened by both the obvious strain this put on them and Valeraine avoiding him. She wasn’t eager to encourage whatever parody of friendship Pemberley was trying to grow. And yet, he had welcomed thelowly Longbourn family into his home, and had repaired things between Alyce and Nethenabbi.
With Alyce being entertained by Mr. Nethenabbi, Merna being wooed by the manor’s library, and Selaide flirting with the other straggler dragoneers (and demanding Kesley come along on her social adventures), this left Valeraine to wander the halls, crafting her own tour of the place.
Pemberley manor was the largest house she had ever had the freedom to explore, with wings stretching hundreds of paces. There were paintings and tapestries on the walls, with every room having a harmonious color scheme. Some halls were lonely and stale, the furniture spotlessly cleaned and yet the air having an unbreathed quality. Some halls had servants and guests bustling in them, with much-used drawing rooms.
Valeraine even found her way (accidentally) to the servants’ downstairs, which held commotion and delicious smells wafting from kitchens. She was politely asked what she was doing there, until it was discovered that she was the Miss Valeraine Longbourn, here by Mr. Pemberley’s special request. It seemed the gossip had preceded her, and the servants were all too happy to talk with her after that.
Valeraine discovered shortly that the source of that gossip was Olivinta. Her favorite person was her older brother, and Olivinta was entirely too excited about him showing special treatment to a lady. Even if that treatment was mostly arguments. Any explanation Valeraine could have given — he was only grateful she had rescued him during the derby, he was courting her favor to alleviate the threat of blackmail, he may feel poorly about insulting her so thoroughly — held far too many secrets tangled with them. She couldn’t give any of the excuses that would have plainly shown Pemberley wasn’t interested in her, so Olivinta’s excitement and wagging tongue continued.
“Let’s go and see the nest,” Olivinta said to her during luncheon.
Valeraine would be lying if she said that she didn’t want to see the nest with thirty-one dragons, so they went.
The Pemberley nest was actually six separate buildings, each one the size of the nest at Longbourn. “It’s better for the dragons to be in small groups. Less fights, less fires,” Olivinta explained.
They toured the nest building that held Amaranth. All the dragons in this hall had a reddish coloring, from burgundy to a pale pink marbling of an older dragon on the end. “These are all of the same line, with that one,” Olivinta pointed, “being the sire of those two. The rest of them are all related in some way or another. Do you want to greet Amaranth? She’s Pemberley’s favorite because she was the most wild, and then he gave her enough love and careful training to harness that toward flying fast.”
Valeraine carefully approached the red beauty, wary. What if this dragon remembered her as the woman who had stolen an injured Pemberley away?
It seemed Amaranth remembered the jerky better, as her nuzzle inspected Valeraine’s skirts, sniffing for treats. Olivinta laughed, recognizing the motion if not the specific reason for it. “Let’s get her some food so she’ll leave you alone.”
The nest had a pallet with bundles of food on it, which Olivinta was obviously familiar with. She carried a small hay roll, and Valeraine picked up a bucket of meat slop. Olivinta untied the hay bundle and put it in a manger in front of the dragon. Valeraine didn’t need to be told to add the meat, the routine familiar to her. The curious thing was how Olivinta knew how to feed an adult dragon.
“I thought,” Valeraine ventured, “that in the larger houses, the women only cared for the hatchlings, and the men for the mature dragons.”
“It was that way when my parents were here. But since Pemberley took over, things have slid. I like feeding these dragons; they really care about the people who spend time with them. Hatchlings are so self-absorbed, they wouldn’t recognize the hand that fed them.”
“Can I see your hatchlings?”
Olivinta led the way to a large shed. It had a real glass window, and a person-sized door. A nursery nest, just for the hatchlings. Valeraine tried to imagine having so many dragon eggs that there would be a whole building devoted to them. Longbourn hadn’t had a hatchling for hundreds of years. Pemberley nest had them so often that they had a designated, private abode.
Valeraine coveted this grand nest and its overflowing dragons. She wanted to live here, surrounded by the easy wealth and plenty. It was impossible: this was Mr. Pemberley’s place, and even if she had married him, she would be expected to be the meek wife who helped the staff organize balls, not a daring dragoneer. But even amongst all the terrible chaining, this would come as well: being a hatch-mother, mistress of this little nest. Her queendom to rule.
Maybe she wanted to get away from Longbourn, which was feeling more and more like a place that didn’t want dragons anymore.
The other hiccup in the fantasy was Lelantos, tied to Longbourn, left behind. She didn’t want that.
Valeraine imagined for a moment if Lelantos died tomorrow. Or next year. Or the year after that. He would likely die before she did.
What would Valeraine be, without him?
She would be just another girl from a house that had once had a dragon.
She would be someone who had dedicated her life to understanding dragons, to flying and to working with them, andthen she would be nothing. Who was she without her dragon? A foolish girl, chasing a dream nobody would thank her for achieving. She couldn’t join the army as a dragoneer, as the superfluous sons of dragon houses tended to do. There was no path for her. She wasn’t going to be lucky enough to get athirdheir of a wealthy dragon house to propose to her. She might be lucky enough for Kesley to make up his mind and propose, joining her at Longbourn house to die with it.
Should she give up? Valeraine would never be like Olivinta, destined for greatness, to never run out of dragons, either at Pemberley house or at the dragon house she would easily marry into. Valeraine was destined to stop being a dragoneer, unless she was lucky enough to get an egg.
Olivinta opened the door to the hatchling nursery, and held it open for Valeraine.
The first thing she noticed about the nursery was that the walls were lined with pale gray bricks, which would be for fireproofing, a handy feature in a room for untamed dragons. The second thing that she noticed were the sounds of happy hatchlings; little squeals and happy huffs coming from the three baby dragons clustered on the floor. They were the size of a housecat, small enough she could have scooped them up in her arms. The third thing she noticed was the object of those hatchlings’ attention: a food bucket which was held by a man, sitting down and handing the hatchlings little bits of food.
Pemberley was here, cooing at the hatchlings in the most affectionate way. He smiled when he saw Olivinta. That smile faltered when he saw Valeraine.
“So, you put those opinions on hatch-mothering to practical use,” was all Valeraine could think to say.
Pemberley swung forward in his seat, as if he was going to stand up to greet the lady guests, but then realized he couldn’t and stutteringly changed it to a seated bow.
