Here Be Dragons
Elizabeth had expected, walking up to Rosings that morning, something resembling order.
She knew the grounds by now: the gravel paths, the severe symmetry of the planting, the quiet that Lady Catherine maintained as a matter of principle.
Rosings had a way of arranging itself around its mistress that made disorder seem incompatible with the very structure of the place.
She had not accounted for Anthony.
The garden came into view around the first turn in the path, and the first thing Elizabeth saw was Colonel Fitzwilliam crouching behind a yew hedge, his attention fixed upon the shrubbery as if it were an enemy position.
The second was Anthony, hat abandoned somewhere, directing operations with a stick.
The third was Lewis, sitting in the middle of the path with his hands in the gravel, apparently uninvolved in whatever was happening and unwilling to miss it.
The fourth was Mr Darcy. He stood at the edge of the scene with his hands behind his back, too still for a bystander and too attentive to claim no part in the matter.
Anthony saw her first. He stopped directing operations and lowered the stick. Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared above the hedge. Mr Darcy turned.
“Miss Bennet,” he said. “May I present Master Anthony Selbourne. Anthony, this is Miss Bennet.”
Anthony considered her. “Are you helping?”
Elizabeth glanced at Colonel Fitzwilliam behind the hedge, then at the smaller child in the gravel.
“That depends. What requires help?”
“We do not know yet,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
“We do,” Anthony said.
Mr Darcy indicated the smaller boy. “And this is his brother, Master Lewis Selbourne.”
Lewis looked up, gravel clutched in both hands.
“Good morning, Lewis.”
Lewis threw the gravel at Colonel Fitzwilliam. Colonel Fitzwilliam straightened and brushed it from his coat with determined dignity.
“Yes,” he said. “That is Lewis.”
Anthony watched his brother with long-suffering familiarity. “He does that.”
“So I observe,” Elizabeth said.
Lewis, satisfied, reached for more gravel. Mr Darcy moved before Lewis could acquire fresh ammunition, lifted him from the path, and settled him against his side with practised ease.
Lewis did not object. He seized Mr Darcy’s lapel instead and regarded Elizabeth with round, assessing eyes.
“Down,” he said, without conviction.
“In a moment,” Mr Darcy said.
Lewis settled against him and waited.
Elizabeth took in Mr Darcy holding a small child who had given up arguing with him, then turned to Anthony.
“Now then. You were saying you know what requires help.”
Anthony’s attention sharpened immediately. “We are mapping the territory.”
“And what have you established so far?”
He pointed with the stick. “There is a path. And there is not a path. And there is a place Colonel Fitzwilliam says is not safe and I am not allowed.”
“The south wood,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said pleasantly, reappearing from behind the hedge. “Perfectly correct.”
“Why is the south wood not safe?” Anthony asked.
Elizabeth turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam, who found the sky suddenly interesting.
“Uneven ground,” Mr Darcy said.
Anthony looked unconvinced. “I am good at uneven ground.”
“I know,” Mr Darcy said. “Nevertheless.”
Anthony accepted the answer.
“Then perhaps we should inspect the permitted territory,” Elizabeth said.
Anthony brightened.
“Excellent,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “Reinforcements.”
“You said that before,” Anthony said.
“And now I have been proved correct.”
“Are you coming?” Elizabeth asked Mr Darcy.
Lewis answered for him by tightening both hands in his coat.
“It appears I am.”
Anthony raised his stick. “This way.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam joined Elizabeth. “I should warn you,” he said quietly, “he has no map.”
Anthony had a great many opinions about the permitted territory. The rose garden was noted and dismissed.
“Too open,” he said. “Nothing could hide there.”
“That is generally considered a virtue in a rose garden,” Elizabeth said.
“Not if you are looking for something.”
“What are you looking for?”
He considered this with the seriousness it deserved. “I will know when I find it.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam, from behind, said this was sound military reasoning and had won several campaigns. Mr Darcy said it had also lost several.
Anthony ignored this and moved on to the kitchen garden wall, which he declared excellent for observation, and the orchard, which he declared acceptable but insufficiently mysterious, and the long walk behind the stable block, which he approved of entirely because of a gap in the hedge that he found by means of walking directly into it.
Lewis, throughout all of this, remained attached to Mr Darcy. He did not contribute to the campaign. He did not appear interested in the campaign. Whenever Mr Darcy stopped, however, Lewis attended to whatever had caught his attention with equal seriousness.
At the far end of the long walk, Anthony stopped.
“There.”
He was pointing at a gap between two old elms where the light came through differently and the ground was softer underfoot.
“What is there?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
“Something.” Anthony turned to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth studied the gap between the elms. “I believe dragons prefer exactly this sort of place. Sheltered. Quiet. Near water, if there is any.”
“There is a stream,” Anthony said immediately. “Behind.”
“Then I should proceed with great caution.”
Anthony proceeded with great caution, stick raised. Lewis raised one hand too, in approximate solidarity.
Beside Elizabeth, Mr Darcy said very quietly, “You have made an expedition into a quest.”
“It was already a quest. I merely provided the reason.”
“Dragons.”
“Do you have a better explanation for the south wood?”
“No,” he said. “I find I do not.”
Anthony vanished between the elms.
Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed. “Duty calls.”
He followed, considerably less cautiously than Anthony had. Lewis made a small sound and pointed after them.
“No,” Mr Darcy said.
Lewis considered rebellion, then rested his head against Mr Darcy’s shoulder instead.
“A decisive victory,” Elizabeth said.
“Temporary.”
“Those are often the most satisfying.”
Somewhere beyond the trees, Anthony shouted that he had found the dragon.
Lewis lifted his head.
“Dragon.”
Mr Darcy closed his eyes. “I blame you.”
Elizabeth laughed. “For the dragon?”
“For encouraging him.”
“I have encouraged nothing. I merely recognised the evidence.”
Lewis pointed again. “Dragon.”
“Yes,” Mr Darcy said. “So I understand.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared between the elms. “There is no dragon.”
Anthony followed him. “There might be.”
“There is a fallen branch.”
“It looks like a tail.”
Elizabeth tilted her head. “That is often how it begins.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed. “You see what you have done.”
Anthony came forward and inspected Elizabeth. “Do you know about dragons?”
“A little.”
“How much?”
“Enough to know that they are rarely found by people who announce there are none.”
“I did not announce it,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
“You did,” Anthony said.
Mr Darcy shifted Lewis higher against his shoulder. “I fear the evidence is against you.”
“This is an ambush.”
Anthony lifted the stick. “It is a campaign.”
Elizabeth smiled, and Mr Darcy did too, properly this time.
Lewis, who had been watching the exchange with increasing interest, reached for Anthony’s stick. Anthony drew it back at once.
“No.”
Lewis frowned.
“It is mine,” Anthony said.
Lewis appealed to Mr Darcy.
“A difficult position,” Mr Darcy said.
“You cannot give it to him.”
“I had no intention of doing so.”
Lewis considered this betrayal. Elizabeth crouched and picked up a smaller fallen twig.
“This one appears suitable.”
Lewis took it, examined it, and struck Mr Darcy lightly on the shoulder.
“I am surrounded,” Mr Darcy said.
Elizabeth regarded the two boys, each armed now. “You appear to have lost control of your command, Colonel.”
“I had control?”
Anthony had already moved on. “There is another path.”
“There is always another path,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said.
Anthony turned. “You said that was important.”
“I begin to regret several things I have said this morning.”
Mr Darcy adjusted Lewis, who had gone limp against him.
“Is he asleep?” Elizabeth asked quietly.
Lewis’s eyes were closed.
“Apparently.”
“In the middle of a campaign.”
“He has delegated.”
Anthony had not noticed. He was already several paces ahead, examining the new path with complete concentration.
Colonel Fitzwilliam fell into step beside Elizabeth. “You are very good with them,” he said, quietly enough not to carry.
“They are easy to be good with. Anthony knows what he thinks and says so.” She glanced at the small sleeping face against Mr Darcy’s shoulder. “As for Lewis, he appears to have decided who matters and attached himself accordingly.”
“Yes,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “He does tend to do that.”
The path curved, and the house came back into view through the trees. Lady Selbourne was crossing the lawn towards them at a brisk pace.
She stopped when she saw Lewis asleep on Mr Darcy’s shoulder.
“Well,” she said. “I see the campaign has been going on some time.”
“She found a dragon,” Anthony said, pointing at Elizabeth.
“She found the dragon,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I was informed there was one after I had already denied it.”
Lady Selbourne turned to him. “A mistake.”
“So I gather.”
Mr Darcy shifted Lewis, who slept on. “Lady Selbourne, Miss Bennet.”
“Miss Bennet,” Lady Selbourne said. “You have been very patient.”
“I have been very well entertained.”
“And useful,” Anthony said, raising the stick.
“I see that.”
Anthony lowered it an inch. “We are going to the stream.”
“No,” Lady Selbourne said.
Anthony looked wounded. “We are mapping.”
“You may map in the direction of luncheon.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked relieved. “A sound strategic withdrawal.”
“It is not a withdrawal.”
“It is when one leaves the field.”
Anthony considered this, then pointed the stick towards the house. “Then we are advancing to luncheon.”
Mr Darcy glanced down at Lewis. “Some of us have already surrendered.”