Chapter 28 Gracechurch Street
GRACECHURCH STREET
The rattle of iron bolts and bars ceased as the coach stopped on Gracechurch Street, a respectable but more economical neighborhood.
This destination was a haven, the home of Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, my uncle and aunt. They were sensible and efficient people. That was desperately appealing.
I rang. A housemaid not yet eighteen, with brilliant yellow hair escaping her cap, peered through the opening door, then swung it wide and broke into smiles. “Miss Elizabeth!”
“Dorothy,” I answered, smiling back. From private talks with my despairing aunt, I knew Dorothy was a marginal maid, but she was full of infectious good spirit and wonderful with the children. My aunt had two girls and two boys, all younger than nine, so this was a gift.
“Oh, my goodness! Let me tell the missus!” Dorothy ran off, forgetting to invite me in. But I had visited many times, so I invaded their entryway, closed the door, and shook out my shawl.
“Lizzy! What a wonderful surprise!” My aunt gave me a hug. Her grip tightened when she realized I needed a good squeeze.
“I am sorry I did not write before coming,” I said when we separated. “It has been a confused and worrying few days.”
“What is wrong?” Her face was drawn up in concern.
At that moment we were assaulted by squealing children. Mrs. Gardiner shooed them away with promises of a visit later, and she and I retired to the parlor.
She straightened her dress as we sat, choosing her words. “Mr. Gardiner will be in the office for several more hours. Unless… Lizzy, should I send for him?”
“Please do not. I must continue to Longbourn. I am here in part to see a friendly face”—at this, my aunt reached over to hold my fingers—“but also to ask a large favor.”
I explained that Jane was seriously ill, although I hoped not in immediate danger. I continued, “It is a rare and exotic illness that relates to draca and binding. I have it on good advice that a cure exists in the northern lakes.”
“That is very strange.” My aunt looked dubious. “What authority gave you this advice?”
“You will think I am mad, but you must believe me.” My aunt’s eyebrows rose. I took a deep breath. I had not shared this with anyone. “I was told by a draca.”
“You cannot be serious.”
“I am quite sincere. A wyvern told me. I have discovered they are capable of speech. Well, not speech. Her mouth could not make the sounds of human speech. But we communicate. Her words rather pop into my head. If she is in the mood.”
My aunt’s eyebrows vanished behind her tasteful curls of hair. “How extraordinary,” she said in a tiny voice.
“I have not heard of anyone else who can communicate this way. And I am hesitant to share the knowledge broadly. There would be disapproval.” In America, I would probably be burned at the stake. Even here, the Church would condemn me.
“Of course, Lizzy. I will keep it secret. I shall not even tell Mr. Gardiner unless you wish it. But… how is this possible?”
“I do not know.” A tired laugh escaped. “I always thought draca disliked me. Now I suspect I have some kind of affinity with them.”
“Are you certain? If you are upset over Jane, might it be nerves? A… wishful fancy?”
I cast my mind outward, remembering their bound draca. I found a presence and concentrated. Then, like a disreputable street performer, I waved dramatically at the doorway as their little draca scurried into the room. He barreled over, cooing, and I scooped him onto my lap.
“My word.” My aunt’s eyes were round. “You can speak with him?”
The Gardiners had bound a tykeworm, a quadruped no bigger than a tiny Yorkshire terrier.
Tykes were energetic little beasts and considered good in town because they enjoyed indoor living and did not throw fire, so a stone draca house was not required.
This one was nutmeg brown with ripe-pumpkin toes and lighter orange patches on his sides.
I lifted him, and we stared into each other’s eyes. His head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. It was hard to be cute without fur or floppy ears, but he had big, black eyes and panted cheerfully, showing a row of blade-like black teeth.
“I sense his mood, and I can call him,” I answered. “But I have only heard words from a wyvern. Perhaps the other breeds do not have that ability.”
“I have never seen him act this way. Even when you visited before.”
“My affinity began recently. It started with our firedrake, a few months ago.” Had the fright of the mad dog’s attack affected me somehow?
We exchanged observations on how unusual this was. Hopefully, my aunt was coming to terms with her niece having a peculiar ability.
Then she asked, “What has this to do with the lakes?”
“When I told the wyvern that Jane was ill, she showed me an image of a large, cold lake. Somewhere in the north and surrounded by… strange people. She said it would help.” My aunt’s brows had returned to their invisible perch behind her hair.
“I will continue to Longbourn to see if I am needed there. But my mother and father are home, and Mary is most competent. If there is nothing more to do, I wish to visit the lake country.”
“You expect to find this lake? There are hundreds of lakes. Thousands.”
“I have more guidance than I can put into words. I know… how north it is. I know the feel of the land.” My aunt’s lips compacted into skeptical lines. I said hastily, “This is where I hoped for your help. We had planned a northern tour this spring.”
“A tour for pleasure. This is extraordinary. What would you do if we found this lake?”
“I hope to know when the time comes.”
“You are placing a great deal of trust in an animal. In your… impressions of an animal’s thoughts.”
“A wyvern is an extraordinary and mystical creature. And this wyvern is old. I feel the years in her. She is wise.”
My aunt shook her head. “All this ‘feeling’ and mysticism is most unlike you, Lizzy.” My face fell, and she smiled. “You mistake me. Of course, we can do the tour. What is different from our plan, in any case? Except that we must visit Longbourn first to see Jane. I am worried by your news.”
“Of course.”
“And I shall insist you enjoy our tour. I grew up in the north, and it is beautiful. I will be hurt if we dash about, casting a glance at each lake and then departing, for it is the wrong one.”
I bit my lip. I had been imagining exactly that. Was she indulging me without believing?
However, we did not have the resources to race about the country like a military brigade. And I could not travel alone. While my one-day dash from Rosings to Longbourn would shock some people, I had the excuse of an ill sister. But an unmarried lady staying alone at inns would be inexcusable.
We agreed that she would ask Mr. Gardiner about departing next week. Then, if all worked as planned, we would set out to the north, hunting a mysterious lake and a miraculous cure.