Page 78 of The Dragoneers of Longbourn and Pemberley
“He heads all the hatch-mothering here,” Olivinta confided. She didn’t ask Valeraine to keep it a secret, but the implication was there in her tone. Taking Valeraine to the nursery had been an act of trust.
“It’s my greatest pleasure,” Pemberley said, and left it at that. He pulled out a small bit of meat, and fed it to the dragon closest to him. He cupped that dragon’s face in his palm and gave a scratching pet down the neck. The dragon cuddled into his arm, maybe just looking for more food, but maybe looking for more love. Pemberley procured another scrap of meat, and offered it to Valeraine. “Would you like to feed them?”
She stretched forth her hand with what might have been timidity, but was more complicated. It was a fear not of the act (she was comfortable both with handling meat and with handling dragons) but a fear of what this meant, to be having a peaceful interaction with Pemberley. She had to lean forward to take it from him, and then lean down to offer it to a black hatchling. The little mouth snatched at the meat, touching her hand in the process but not hurting her.
The black hatchling, eager for more food, raced across the brick floor, scratched by generations of claws, and clung to Valeraine’s dress, tearing holes in the practical hem of her dark red skirt.
Pemberley’s voice was firm: “Alucard, let go.”
The dragon’s eyes swiveled to look at Pemberley, and he repeated the command. The hatchling let go of her skirt, and Pemberley presented a new piece of meat for the little black dragon.
This was the kind of discipline which she had hoped for — should have expected — from Pemberley. Easy and kind, with never-ending treats. Pemberley passed Valeraine the bucket of meat bits, and she and Olivinta passed the rest out, laughing as the dragons jumped on each other and played. It was ahappy moment, one of teamwork. The hatchlings were cute and energetic, and everyone’s smiles were easy.
They finished feeding the hatchlings, and Olivinta left to summon porters to move Pemberley.
Pemberley scraped his hand through his hair, then rested it on the back of his neck. “I would like to apologize again for overreacting when I discovered your secret. I’ve been pondering the moment and realized something of importance.”
“What is that?” Valeraine didn’t know what she hoped for. A confession that he wasn’t actually infatuated with her? Or perhaps, the opposite?
“When I saw a woman was racing, I was jealous.”
“Jealous? Of Longbourn?”
“No, not of your house,” Pemberley said, his typical dismissive tone returning. “But of your daring to chase your dreams so openly. I hide behind Lady Scaleheart, hide in this nest, hide who I want to be. You fly free.”
“I must wear a mask, you recall.”
“If I was thinking logically at the time, that would have been quite a valid point. But I was filled with avarice instead. That was the root of my hostility to you, and I apologize.”
The porters entered the nest, saving Valeraine from having to choose her response.
She was left alone with the playing hatchlings. They wrestled with each other, more free than her or Pemberley. She scooped the black one into her arms, and it nibbled at her sleeve.
Valeraine imagined again being a hatch-mother, getting to nurture these dragons.
The dream no longer held the spark it once had, a year ago.
She had felt the challenge of the sky, and would always be answering its call. Her bond was with the oldest dragon, not these babies.
She could enjoy caring for them, but she no longer believed she would be fulfilled by it. She had found that elsewhere.
Valeraine left to visit Lelantos.
Chapter fifty-three
In the warren of buildings on the Pemberley estate was the nest where they had put Lelantos. It was just large enough to hold a single dragon, built for a beast that wasn’t getting along with its fellows.
Lelantos was dozing. Valeraine laid her hand on his side, greeting her friend. He twitched mightily, eyes flying open. In his nest-tetchy state he had lost the calm that typically accompanied his rest. Still, it was better than being in the open, or in a nest with other dragons. Here, there were no challengers. The servants of Pemberley had been feeding him and mucking out his stall, so there were no tasks for Valeraine to do. This was just a social call, for both of their sakes.
Lelantos was uncomfortable and homesick, though he was doing better than he had for the past few days, acclimatizing to the new space. He nuzzled her with his snout, greeting her. She sent reassurance through their bond to him; they would be goinghome soon, in a couple days. Valeraine sat down, nestled in her dragon’s leg, and projected peace.
Lelantos accepted her offering, and slowly internalized it until she was feeling peace from him. He fell asleep, deeply.
Now in relative private, in the cozy protection of her dragon, Valeraine pondered on her honest feelings. She was not at peace. Marrying Pemberley had once felt like the worst thing that could possibly happen to her. Now, after spending time at his estate, after spending time with him, a frightening realization was coming to her. It might not be so bad.
Valeraine might even be falling in love with Pemberley, the man and the place.
It was too late now, surely. He would not offer for her hand again, not after she blackmailed him, and made her feelings toward him so clear. Now, her feelings weren’t clear even to herself. There was still his terrible pride, his condescension to her. But when he had extended the invitation for the Longbourns to stay it hadn’t felt like condescension — it had felt like a new beginning, one where Pemberley was trying to improve relations.
