“Your maids? Oh, no. No, I’d assumed, from the tenor of your conversation ... was she not another relation? A ... poor relation, perhaps? A distant one?” Mr Aubrey’s hand rose to touch his coat pocket in an oddly protective gesture.
Was he actually afraid of having something stolen by a poor relation like her? Of course, Aunt and Uncle Parry had never referred to her by that dreadful term, but it was certainly how the outside world would see her ... and if Rose let herself follow that trail of thought further, the white fog would overwhelm her.
So she bit out, in a voice that shook, “You’ll have to ask someone else those questions later!” She swung the door open, striding into the silent and dimly lit buttery before he could argue.
Rose was here to find and calm a dragon, not to weep, so she took a deep breath as she knelt on the dusty floor and made her beckoning call as soft and soothing as she could. “Hello-o-o? It’s only me, little one. You can come out again now. You’re safe, I’m here to help you, and ... ahhh!” Her voice broke into a gasp.
The wine-red dragon had indeed crawled out from the shadows behind the old armoire, where Rose had found her hiding that morning ...
But this time, a second dragon followed her.
Chapter 8
Rose’s gaze shifted back and forth from one impossible pair of golden eyes to another.
“You really must learn to control your imagination, Rose ...” Her family’s remembered voices chimed in rueful unison.
She didn’t let herself imagine impossible things anymore, though. Did she?
“I say!” Mr Aubrey dropped to his knees beside her, heedless of the dust that covered the floor. “What a particularly fine-looking specimen. You didn’t mention that you were looking after two dragons.”
“I didn’t know that I was,” Rose said faintly as the first dragon scampered forwards to nudge her right hand. She lifted her fingers obediently to stroke those warm, smooth, red scales as she continued, “I only found this one today. But she was alone earlier, I’m certain.”
“Fascinating.” The scholar breathed the word like a caress, his voice deepening and shifting. As he leaned past her to study the dust- and cobweb-covered golden scales of the second dragon, the cloth of his black coat brushed lightly against the patch of bare skin above Rose’s elbow.
She shifted swiftly to the side, her breath quickening. The red dragon chirped in protest at the loss of Rose’s hand; the sound made her pull herself together.
Impossible or not, there were two dragons now looking for safety in the clutter of Gogodd Abbey’s old buttery, and she refused to be the sort of person who retreated from reality anymore. So she drew herself up and catalogued the evidence before her as clearly as her younger sister might have laid out mathematical calculations.
This new dragon was a dusky gold, and its gaze darted nervously between her and Mr Aubrey as it flattened itself against the armoire, small wings raised around its sides in what looked, to Rose’s sympathetic eye, like a self-protective position. Much like the first dragon, it was miniature enough to fit upon a lady’s shoulder, but it was noticeably bulkier around the chest, with a more rectangular snout.
Looking at that snout and remembering an earlier conversation, Rose said, “So, is that one a male, then?”
“Oh, yes, most definitely. If you look at that jaw and the angle of the horns ...” Mr Aubrey was propping himself on his elbows now, lying flat on the floor with his head tilted to take in every detail. He reached one long finger forwards – perhaps to trace the shape of those horns – and the golden dragon flinched back violently, letting out a low, chuckling noise.
“Careful!” Rose’s mantle of calm objectivity shattered to pieces with that flinch. She lunged forwards to grasp the scholar’s coat sleeve and pull him back. “Can’t you see how frightened he is? He needs space.”
“Ah—?” Mr Aubrey’s brows drew together, but he looked more baffled than annoyed as he glanced down at her fingers on his sleeve and then back at the golden dragon, whose long neck now looked positively tiny as he hunkered defensively into himself. “Of course. Foolish of me. I’m so used to working with detailed drawings, it is difficult to resist the urge for a close examination when I finally have the chance.” He started to shift backwards, then stopped. “If you wouldn’t mind ...?”
“Of course.” Flushing, Rose released his sleeve. She was glad to have the excuse of the red dragon to look away for a moment, as the little creature hovered impatiently by her side, waiting for her attention.
By the time that Rose looked up again, Mr Aubrey had risen to a kneeling position by her side, his gaze still fixed on the golden dragon. His voice was perfectly calm, but his eyes had narrowed. “In my experience, pet dragons of this age are generally calm and confident with humans and they’re known not to be fearful in the wild, either.”
“Then someone’s trained this one not to trust people.” Rose’s lips pressed together as she looked down at the red dragon, who was making chirruping noises of encouragement at the golden dragon from the safety of Rose’s side. “She was afraid to let me touch her earlier. It’s no wonder, after those terrible marks were left on her by whoever had her last.”
“Is there any question about who that owner must have been?”
Rose shook her head slowly. “Perhaps, if there had only been one dragon ... but these two know each other. You can see it. And we are in the middle of the countryside. Where else could two dragons have come from but Penryddn House?”
... Which meant that Sir Gareth would be on the hunt for both of them now.
“How did you know about Sir Gareth in the first place?” she asked, her gaze swinging back to her human companion. “You stopped me from asking him about dragons when we went to Penryddn House together. You knew he wasn’t a person to be trusted with them. How? Was it only those rumours of ungentlemanly behaviour that Uncle Parry mentioned? How scandalous are they? I promise I won’t be missish and swoon again at any gruesome details.”
“I don’t imagine that you would. Unfortunately, I won’t be able to tell you, regardless.” Mr Aubrey sighed. “I am very unlikely to remember rumours, as a rule. My memory has always been limited to matters of particular interest, and salacious gossip has never interested me.”
“Then how did you know?” Rose persisted.
“That, I’m afraid, I cannot tell you.” He looked pained. “The matter was discussed with me in the utmost confidence. I would first have to enquire whether it might be shared, so ...”
