Chapter 31
Chapter thirty-one
Rosings estate was a day’s journey south from Kinellan City, so it was simple enough for Valeraine to ride Uncle Haupter’s coach there.
She took her entire trunk with her, prepared for a lengthy stay.
The only experience she had with trade negotiations was the occasional business that Papa had conducted.
Sometimes, the visiting businessman would stay for days, trying to negotiate for better terms while taking advantage of Longbourn’s hospitality.
Valeraine would be ready for anything: weeks of negotiation, fancy parties, or cleaning out the muck in Rosings nest. She would do whatever it took to get an egg. Longbourn needed it.
She hoped Mr. Rosings would be amenable.
She would do anything to convince him (well, almost anything).
If not, she would find another dragon house that was willing to deal.
There must be a house that was as desperate as Longbourn out there.
But first she would try to ally with the prestigious Rosings nest.
Valeraine arrived at Rosings manor in time for supper.
She freshened up in the room provided for her (much more spacious and well-decorated than what had been provided for the Longbourn sisters during the derby.
It seemed back then she had been a second-rate guest, and now there was space for her in the luxury accommodations).
The supper table was laden with artfully arranged food.
Mr. Rosings had not been overly boastful when he had mentioned his cook, if it tasted as good as it looked.
A serving woman stood in the corner, ready to run dishes to the kitchen and back.
Seated at the table were a handful of people and guests.
There was Mr. Rosings, at the head of the table.
He gestured to the chair to his left for her to sit.
This put her in between him and a woman who shared his black hair and upturned nose, who was introduced as his sister, Miss Elfrieda Rosings.
Mr. Pemberley sat across from Valeraine.
Valeraine had nearly tripped when she entered the room and saw him. What was he doing here? He couldn’t be following her, could he? No, he must have arrived before her. His estate was many days’ journey to the north. She found the nerve to sit.
“Have you met my cousin?” Mr. Rosings asked, seeing her attention on Pemberley.
“We have been introduced,” Valeraine said. She even managed to say it without her voice shaking. The tremors might have come from anger or fear; it was difficult to tell when they were so commingled.
Pemberley couldn’t hurt her. No, he could.
He could turn to his cousin — his cousin?
Why hadn’t she heard this before? — and obliterate her with a sentence: “Were you aware Miss Longbourn is the masked rider?” Would he?
A cousin would be a reasonable confidant, just as reasonable as his close friend Mr. Nethenabbi.
She still wanted to corner him and demand his silence, but the rational part of her counseled against it. It seemed, based on the lack of scandal so far, he was already giving his silence. If she pressed him, he may only reverse his position out of spite.
“Bennington here is attending to some business with us,” Rosings said, “before we leave for the season. You’re coming from Kinellan City, are you not? How are things shaping up so far?”
“It is only moderately entertaining, without you to grace the balls there,” Valeraine replied. “But won’t you miss your nest here?”
“The dragons will be in the capable hands of our stewards. It is only the boring work of organizing the dragons for our tenant farmers that is left, no derbies or real training.”
“I will be returning to my nest for the season, and not going to the city,” Pemberley said. It was with great gravity that he made this pronouncement, as if someone here would cross-examine his plans.
Valeraine didn’t care about where Pemberley would be going, so long as it wasn’t to the papers with her secrets. “And are you, Miss Rosings, going to Kinellan as well?” Valeraine asked, pivoting in her chair to look at the lady.
The fact that this oriented her away from Pemberley was just a happy accident. It would be cowardly to avoid his green-eyed gaze, which had not left her.
“I will,” Miss Rosings said. “The hatchling I’ve been mothering is ready to take his place in the nest. It can do without me for a few months.”
“How many hatchlings did you have this year?”
“Oh, only one. Though, we are anticipating two eggs to hatch next year.”
Valeraine fought down her jealousy. For one house to have two eggs? It was beyond even her dreams for Longbourn.
“We are anticipating three hatchlings next year,” Pemberley commented.
Soon, Longbourn would have its first egg in centuries.
Valeraine turned to Mr. Rosings, putting a smile on her face. She would not let Pemberley rattle her. Her goal was so close. “I would love to see your nest; it must be grand.”
“It is. Even better than Pemberley’s, I would say,” Rosings said.
Pemberley made a little hiccuping noise that might be a scoff, or a cough. “Pemberley nest is larger than Rosings by a dozen dragons,” he said.
“Yes, but it is not the number of dragons that make a nest grand,” Rosings said. “It is also in the dragoneering, the craftsmanship, the very soul of the place. Don’t you agree, Miss Longbourn?”
“Certainly. Longbourn nest is grand with just a single dragon in residence.”
Pemberley’s dissent was clear on his face, brandished at Valeraine in a sneer. “But you cannot —”
“I will take the lady on a tour,” Rosings said to his cousin, “And she can tell us her impressions of the nest.”
Valeraine tried not to let her eyes linger on Pemberley. He didn’t matter here. He would ruin her or he wouldn’t, but her mission was to woo Rosings right now.
“A tour would be lovely,” Valeraine said.
“Yes, tomorrow. I’ve heard how you dote on Longbourn’s elderly dragon. Just wait until you see some real dragons. I might even take you on a flight.”
Valeraine pretended to blush at that, as she knew a proper lady would. Her, going on a flight? Highly unusual. The most scandalous part of it would be going alone with a man, but working with Kesley had inured her to that.
“I’m particularly interested in your breeding lines,” Valeraine said. She asked Miss Rosings, “Are your eggs from your dragons here, or are some of them co-parented with other nests?”
The conversation turned on and on, coming to dragons and away again. Valeraine couldn’t get it to stick on the topic, but she didn’t press it. She would start her dealing tomorrow, with the tour of the nest, with Rosings himself.
The first course was taken away by the serving woman, and the second course brought to the table.
All throughout the meal, Pemberley watched her.
She did her best never to look at him. A few times, however, her treacherous eyes would stray to him, and be snagged in his gaze.
It was intent, and serious. He saw her. He saw through her plans for Rosings, her hopes to save Longbourn.
Would he consider her actions an attack on his cousin, and respond in kind?
She tried to stay pleasant, to keep things light and conversational with the Rosings. But Pemberley’s presence was a bellows stoking the fire of her indignation.
She hated being in his power. He was a despicable blackmailer. One word from him, and her reputation would be ruined. One command from him, and she would have to follow his direction. Would he give her feelings a single thought before he destroyed her?
His inaction would drive her mad. Why hadn’t he done something with her secret yet?
When the supper ended, Pemberley was first out of his chair, leaving the room in haste.
Valeraine made her polite excuses and followed as quickly as she could.
She just barely managed to catch sight of him at the end of the hallway, fast disappearing. “Mr. Pemberley?” she called.
He stopped his flight, and waited for her.
She was like a penitent approaching a king, walking up the dim hallway to where he stood. He had stopped between two candles on the wall, and the shadows suited him. She knew the attitude which she should be adopting: capitulating, flattering, begging this man.
“Miss Longbourn,” he greeted. “I did not know you were visiting.”
“I have dealings with Mr. Rosings.”
“I see. How is the health of your family?” Pemberley stood stiffly, aloof. It was as if the bold gaze he had maintained during dinner had been snatched from him, here in the intimacy of the empty hallway.
“They are fine. Alyce, particularly, has had an eventful season. Did you know she went to Kinellan City? Unfortunately, she has been unable to connect with Mr. Nethenabbi there.” She should not be poking this hornets’ nest.
“Well, Kinellan City is a large and busy place. Perhaps it is for the best,” he said.
“For the best, if my beloved sister is ignored by the man who was so enthusiastically courting her, just two months ago?”
“For the best, when people remain in ignorance. Wouldn’t you agree? Or would you prefer that all the details of your situation were known?” Pemberley was warming to the conversation now, passion encroaching on his tone.
Valeraine wanted to slap that smug superiority off of Pemberley’s face. But she restrained herself.
“My natural stubbornness would balk at being kept in the dark,” she said, abandoning her resolve to be civil.
She took a step closer to him, until they were practically chest-to-chest. He would not escape her this time.
“My courage always rises against opposition.” She would not surrender and live in fear of what he might do to her.
“Mr. Nethenabbi doesn’t plan to relocate to Kinellan City permanently, does he? ”
“I would not be surprised if he stays in Kinellan for several years, as the nest does not need him urgently, and the city holds so many divertissements. As you well know. You must not have a strong attachment to your nest, either.”
“What would you know of my feelings toward Longbourn? Do you suppose I raced on an immaterial lark?” Valeraine asked. Did Pemberley suppose it was not terribly painful for her to be separated from Lelantos — something that was his doing, not her choice?
“It cannot be a great self-denial for you to leave,” he said. “Haven’t you been in the city for nearly two months now? I would never leave Pemberley nest for such a period.”
“What have you ever known of self-denial, with your rich nest of dozens of dragons?”
“A gentleman denies himself much, for the good of his estate.”
“If only you behaved in a gentleman-like manner, that might apply to you,” Valeraine said.
Pemberley recoiled, taking a step back from her.
She had struck a nerve, there. A gentleman indeed did not stoop to blackmailing.
He strode near again, close enough to strike her. His eyes were wild. Then, he stalked closer still, his face next to hers.
Valeraine imagined closing the gap, meeting him, feeling his passion.
Pemberley leaned forward a fraction, then back. He took a step backwards. He continued his motion until he was out of her reach.
She let him retreat. It was for the best they did not touch. She might have ripped him apart.
He might have broken her in two.
She had said her peace. Now he knew she would not cower beneath his leverage.
“Goodnight, Miss Longbourn,” he said, then departed.
Valeraine opened her mouth to call him back, to demand he finish what he started. Then she closed it. Becoming even more entangled with Pemberley would only doom her.
Then, she wanted to call him back to finish what she had started.
She had an urge to tell him of her glorious flying, connected to her dragon.
It wouldn’t change his mind — he was of absolute opinions.
But, at least, he would know her enough to never again accuse her of not caring for Lelantos.
It seemed he cared deeply for his nest; perhaps he would truly understand what Longbourn nest meant to her, if she shared it with him.
Valeraine realized then she hadn’t even really tasted the food at supper, and had no idea if it had been as good as it looked. It was one more thing that Pemberley had stolen from her — a pleasant meal.