Chapter 6
Chapter six
Four days later, Mamma swept to and fro, making sure her four daughters were ready to be presented.
The Nethenabbis — Mr. Louhan and his sister, Miss Nedine — would be arriving any moment.
Her daughters must be arranged as prettily and neatly as possible.
They were gathered in the blue sitting room, with its elegant sofas and armchairs ready to receive their esteemed guests.
To Alyce, the eldest, Mamma cupped her strong chin and turned it from side to side, inspecting her strawberry blonde hair for loose strands.
There were none, as Alyce had dutifully pinned it up into a fabulous bun, with twisting braids and a ringlet framing either side of her face.
Mamma left her with the benediction, “My lovely Alyce, if there is anyone who can impress such a gentleman as Mr. Nethenabbi, it will be you.” Alyce gave a smile in shy acknowledgement, her thin lips prettily pulling as her kind hazel eyes crinkled at the corners.
Valeraine was on the sofa next to Alyce, and received from Mamma the compliment of, “Stop slouching. You mustn’t distract from our dear Alyce.” Mamma was already moving to the next daughter as she added, “Alyce, will you fix her hair?”
Valeraine had carefully done her hair into a braid, then into a bun.
Perhaps she hadn’t put as much time into the process as Alyce or Selaide, but she would not have been out of place in town.
Alyce’s clever fingers were reshaping Valeraine’s work now, without judgement.
If only Valeraine had a mirror, so she could see what changes were being made.
With Alyce’s skill, it would look better.
Perhaps Valeraine didn’t want to know how much better.
For her third eldest daughter, Merna, Mamma had given up chiding and correcting years ago.
Valeraine envied this position, but was not quite willing to go to the drastic measures required.
Merna had cultivated a thoroughly unfashionable wardrobe (accepting all the worst of the hand-me-downs, worn in the least appealing ways, and never asking for anything new) and a severe hairstyle, devoid of any ornamentations or curls.
Merna knew where to draw the line in her small rebellions, and missing this tea entirely would have been pushing Mamma into a rage.
So she was present, on time, and sat in an armchair, reading a book.
Though Merna may not increase the impression of loveliness of the Longbourn sisters, she could at least be trusted to lend a sense of dutiful scholarship and soberness, which balanced Selaide, the youngest, quite well.
Selaide was watching at the window for the Nethenabbis to arrive. She exclaimed, “They’re coming! Their carriage is a beautiful blue number, all adorned in golden filigree.”
“Get away from the window, Selaide.” Mamma bustled closer and tugged her away from the spying spot. Mamma then peered blatantly through the window, eyeing the wealth of the Nethenabbis coming up the drive. “We cannot have them thinking we are too eager to receive them, hanging on the view.”
Selaide returned to the window next to Mamma, so both of their faces looked out to accost the approaching carriage.
Mamma absentmindedly pinned an errant curl of Selaide’s hair back in place (which Selaide had purposefully left out to be more fashionable). Then, to the room at large, she announced, “We will take tea in the sitting room, so everyone may wait there for Mr. and Miss Nethenabbi.”
As they were already all in the sitting room for this purpose, no-one paid her much mind.
Mamma sat down on a sofa next to Papa, who had been installed there for the better part of an hour, reading a newssheet, avoiding the storm of Mrs. Longbourn by the simple expediency of never giving it any mind or doing anything to which she could seriously object.
He had invited the Nethenabbis over for tea, he would introduce them all, and he would smile politely.
To take initiative and do more was to intrude on Mamma’s domain, and he knew the risks of that.
Kesley entered, freshly shaven and washed, free from the sweat and smells of the nest. He sat in the spot next to Valeraine, which she had kept vacant by laying her embroidery project (several weeks neglected) on the seat.
Now, with everyone seated and with two open armchairs ready for their guests, they were ready to pretend that it had all been no trouble at all.
The Nethenabbis were ushered in by the butler, and everyone in the room rose to greet them.
The Nethenabbis were of typical Fellarik coloring, with dark mahogany skin and black hair.
Mr. Nethenabbi was tall, and strikingly handsome.
His full lips were in a pleasant smile as he walked confidently to exchange a handshake with Papa.
His clothes were immaculately tailored to display his lean torso, tight but tastefully so.
His sister, Miss Nedine, was even more striking.
Her black hair was done in dozens of neat braids which had then been orchestrated into a magnificently intricate bun, decorated with ribbons that matched the sage green of her gown.
Miss Nedine’s neatly manicured eyebrows made their appraisal of the Longbourn household known, and Valeraine felt they had already been found wanting.
Mamma elbowed Papa, and with this cue he began introductions.
“These are my four lovely daughters: Alyce, Valeraine, Merna, and Selaide. Here is my wife, Mrs. Longbourn, and Mr. Kesley Sidton, who has cared for our dragon for many seasons.” He then said to his family, ironically aware that this part of the introductions was pointless, “This is Mr. Louhan Nethenabbi, and his sister Miss Nedine Nethenabbi.”
The Nethenabbis sat, and bland pleasantries were exchanged. A maid came to pour them all tea.
“Did you hear of Wintgomery house?” Mamma asked. “It’s dreadful news.”
“It’s poor management that led them to such a downfall,” Merna said.
“That’s certainly true,” Mr. Nethenabbi acknowledged.
“Though I do think the press has been harsh on the whole exchange, particularly Lady Scaleheart. At least there’s one good thing to come of it all: Mr. Calwood, who is a friend of mine, is fortunate that he can keep all the eggs from their breeding. ”
Mamma exclaimed over his connections and their clan’s vast empire of dragon nests. Merna even put away her book to look moderately interested.
Alyce hung on every word of Mr. Nethenabbi, and took the lead in asking him questions. “So, when do you anticipate having fully grown dragons at the Netherfield nest?”
Nethenabbi smiled at her, warmly and sincerely. “We have brought eggs with us, which we expect to hatch in the winter, under the hatch-mothering of Nedine. It will be a decade or so before they reach full maturity. However, we have also brought an adult dragon with us, my Azafira.”
Alyce leaned forward, pulled more by his boisterous smile than the content of his speech. “How smart, a headstart as it were. Will you take tenant farmers, then, supported by your dragon?”
“No, Azafira is far too nest-tetchy presently to work with farmers. We will use her for occasional shipments to and fro Netherfield, to aid in construction. But her main purpose is for the derbies.”
Nedine, with obvious pride in her brother, added, “Louhan has raced in many Kinellan derbies. He’s quite an accomplished rider, and has a true psychic bond with Azafira. He really couldn’t bear to be parted with her.”
Valeraine straightened in her seat. A psychic bond with a dragon was rare, and she had never met someone who had one. “How did the bond develop?” she asked.
“The dragon has been my companion since I was a boy, ever since she was tamed by my mother,” Mr. Nethenabbi said. “It was because we grew up together, connecting over many years.”
“It’s the only bond on record in the Nethenabbi clan,” Nedine bragged. “He is exceptional.”
Selaide stole the conversation, uninterested in rare magic or impressive dragoneering. “Will Netherfield be hosting a derby then? With a proper ball? There have sometimes been balls in Galsopshire, but the magnificence of Netherfield would outshine all of those.”
Nethenabbi said, “Of course we will host a derby, with a proper ball. Within a month, I think. It will be the finest derby Galsopshire has seen in decades.” He looked at Alyce and said, “Longbourn will of course be invited.”
“Your house will certainly be invited to the ball,” Nedine said with consoling condescension, “but as I understand it you have no dragon fit to race. What a shame it is that Longbourn cannot participate in derbies.” Nedine gave a pointed look in the direction of her brother, one of smug censure, as if underlining an earlier point.
It seemed they had been gossiping of Longbourn, and not complimentarily.
The silence that came upon the room was not filled by Alyce, who was far too much of a peacemaker to have a true response to Miss Nedine’s insult.
It was not filled by Selaide, who had little care for dragon racing so long as she got her majestic ball to attend.
The silence might have been filled by Mamma, nervous and fluttery, if she had thought of something to say quickly enough.
It might even have been filled by Kesley, honey tongued and not of Longbourn house, able to position himself as a neutral party and diffuse the situation.
But the one who broke the silence was Valeraine, with her chin up and her hands clenched at her sides: “Longbourn is a dragon house. We have a powerful dragon, who does more for our tenant farmers than yours presently can.”
Nedine seemed to relish the challenge, leaning forward in her seat to match Valeraine. “But he’s too old to race, isn’t he? It’s quite an accomplishment to have kept him alive for so long. Your house must take such good care of him. How many decades has it been since he won a derby?”
Valeraine couldn’t say. Didn’t know. Lelantos had never raced in her lifetime, and it might truly have been generations since he won.
Derbies were so far from the business of Longbourn that she wasn’t even sure how she would go about discovering the history.
Had one of her grandfathers ever taken down the records of Lelantos’ victories? Or had they not cared, even then?
Mr. Nethenabbi rested his hand on Nedine’s forearm, as if to restrain his sister, but she continued.
“He is getting quite long in the wing, as I understand it, and may expire any day now,” Nedine said. “Though his presence does extend the technicality of the title of dragon house to Longbourn, you —”
“Longbourn will fly in your derby,” Valeraine interjected.
Several people laughed at this declaration.
Papa let out a chuckle, as he knew exactly how unprepared Longbourn was for a derby, and how funny it might be to see them try.
He stifled his laugh quickly, though, knowing it would only hurt his daughter to hear it.
Mamma and Selaide gasped, more from astonishment than humor.
From Miss Nedine Nethenabbi there was a scoff, but not a confident one.
She did not have the advantage of the Longbourns, who were certain in how unprepared Lelantos was to fly in a derby.
Nedine only suspected from the rumors (and conjecture based on the ramshackle appearance of their nest, which she had seen from her grand carriage upon arriving).
Mr. Nethenabbi shared his smile with Valeraine. “Of course, Longbourn is welcome to the derby.” He addressed the next question to Papa, as it was men’s business. “Who will ride it?”
Papa, who was never quick to speak and had no insight to provide to this question, shook his head slowly. Before he could admit there were no sons to take up the mantle of dragon rider (he was certainly too old to do it), Kesley came to the rescue.
“I will be happy to serve Longbourn house as their rider, on Lelantos.”
Papa nodded to this, tranquilly, as if it had always been the plan.
“Quite unorthodox,” Nedine said, “but I suppose you must do what you can. It’s a pity we won’t be able to truly test our mettle against the distinguished Longbourn house, but instead an alliance between Longbourn and Sidton.”
“I’ve been part of this nest for years now,” Kesley reassured.
“This is practically my home, even if I don’t bear its name.
” He gave his cocky smile and told the men, excluding Miss Nedine with the tilt of his shoulders, “Lelantos will have the advantage of being the only non nest-tetchy dragon at the derby, if I don’t miss my mark.
Perhaps he will surprise you yet. Longbourn house has certainly surprised me. ”
Kesley winked at Valeraine, a gesture so quickly there and gone that she thought she might have imagined it.
There was no immediate response to this volley, and the room lapsed into silence.
The conversation was then diverted by Mr. Nethenabbi. Holding a pillow in his lap (he had plucked it from his back), he pretended to have just now noticed it. “This embroidery is beautiful. I love how it matches that painting of Longbourn manor.”
Alyce blushed. “Thank you. I did both the embroidery and the painting, as a set.”
Nethenabbi asked after her techniques and inspiration, and the rest of the tea passed in polite nothings.
Valeraine half wished that she could continue arguing her point with Miss Nedine. Perhaps Lelantos was old and hadn’t won a derby for a hundred years, but the house still had dignity. They were dragoneers. In the Netherfield derby, they would prove it.
That is, they would prove it if Kesley had very good luck with Lelantos. Much better luck than was his norm.
Who was Valeraine kidding? This would be a disaster.