“And at the Rothershams’ rout,” Gavin Armitage added. “You’re right,” he said to his sister, “I hadn’t noticed until now, but of course it isn’t the same dragon at all.” He turned back to Elinor. “Your last one was a sort of reddish colour, wasn’t he?”
“Like mine,” Miss Armitage said helpfully, “but with pink rather than silver trimmings.” She laughed, lowering her eyelashes. “You can see that I pay a good deal of attention to dragons, can’t you? I confess, I find them fascinating. Far better than the ordinary run of jewelry as an accessory. I can’t imagine disposing of one who was still so young and striking.”
Elinor’s hand tightened over Sir Jessamyn’s back as, for a moment, panic mutated into anger. “Perhaps,” she said, “that is because, unlike other fashionable accessories, dragons are living, breathing creatures with sensibilities.”
“Oh, but they can be trained until you’d never guess it,” said Miss Armitage. “Your new one is lovely, although I can see you haven’t finished training him. He looks quite wild with nervousness now, doesn’t he? Is he not yet accustomed to company?”
“Yournew one,” Sir John repeated, ominously. He set down his glass and leaned forward. “Mrs. De Lacey, you told me this morning,to my face—”
“He isnotnew,” Elinor said. “He is my second dragon. Because he is not yet used to company, I haven’t taken him about with me in London. But as I was coming to spend time in the countryside—”
“Of all the nerve!” Penelope’s outraged gasp was almost a shriek, and it turned Sir Jessamyn’s light shivers into ripples that threatened to knock him off Elinor’s shoulder. He began to chitter unhappily at the back of his throat as Penelope said, “If you think just because we live in the countryside, we aren’t worthy of your best dragon—!”
Elinor raised her own voice to cut across her cousin’s rising fury. “I merely thought that as it would be quieter here—”
“Ithink,” said Sir John, “that I have seen that bloody dragon before. That is what I think!”
He pointed a beefy finger at Sir Jessamyn.
“I think that’s my daughter’s blasted dragon!”
Sir Jessamyn unmistakably chuckled.
Elinor leaped to her feet. “That is quite enough!” she said. “If anyone utters one more word—”
But it was too late. Sir Jessamyn had lost control all over the back of her gown.
“Well,” said Lady Hathergill brightly, “I’ve certainly seen that dragon before!”
Penelope fell back against the couch and began to scream. Gavin Armitage began to laugh. Sir John lunged to his feet, sputtering incoherently. Miss Armitage turned away, not quite in time to hide her amusement.
Mr. Aubrey turned the page of his book with a frown of perfect concentration and settled deeper into his armchair.
Hot dragon slime drenched the back of Elinor’s gown. Her head whirled with panic. Sir Jessamyn had plastered himself so tightly against her neck, her throat was half-constricted. Even if she could have thought of what to say, she couldn’t have forced the words out.
But before she could even try, Benedict Hawkins was at her side. “Won’t you take my handkerchief, Mrs. De Lacey? Terrible habit these young dragons have,” he added to the room at large. “I haven’t met a single one that didn’t do that when people made them nervous.”
Penelope stopped screaming, but her breath came in short bursts as she glared at Elinor through narrowed eyes. “My dragon—mydragon always did that! Every day!”
“Your dragon did it too?” Benedict said. “I’m not surprised. Puppies are just the same, you know. No control when they get frightened. Wouldn’t you confirm that, Miss Armitage?”
“Well…” Miss Armitage looked as if she were exerting superhuman control to hold back her laughter. “Mydragon did it only once,” she said. “It is part of the training process, you know—teaching them to be calm in all circumstances.”
Sir Jessamyn let out a barely audible chitter of fear as he snaked his neck around Elinor’s throat and then tucked his head so tightly underneath her chin that he nearly overbalanced her.
“Never mind,” Elinor rasped to him, through her constricted throat. “You’ll learn soon enough.”
Miss Armitage’s dragon gazed past Sir Jessamyn with cool indifference, as if the other dragon’s panic was a sight far too embarrassing to even witness. Elinor gritted her teeth, held Sir Jessamyn steady with one hand, and struggled to reach around her back with the handkerchief Benedict had given her.
“Allow me.” He took it from her and wiped carefully across the back of her shoulder. “Can we summon a maid to clean the rest of this up?”
“Oh, the maids won’t do it anymore,” said Lady Hathergill. “They utterly refuse.”
His hand paused a moment in its work. “Then who—?”
“Elinor always did it, of course! But now…” Penelope’s lower lip pushed out sullenly. “I didn’t know that other dragons were just as bad.”
Elinor bit her lip hard to repress her reaction.
