“Regardless!” she said briskly. “It hardly matters—”
“Of course she can’t really think that, Beth.” Georgie’s narrow-eyed gaze was fixed on Rose as she drawled the words to her younger sister. “Only a ninny would imagine anything of the sort, and our cousin has all her wits about her. Don’t you, coz?”
“That’s not ...”
“But you can’t leave! You mustn’t.” Beth looked nearly ready to weep again. “We’ve only just found you!”
“It has been a full seven months ...” Rose began.
“Oh, but we only started seeing the real you in the last few weeks.” Georgie waved one hand impatiently. “That sweet, silent waif who arrived seven months ago was well enough, I suppose, if you like golden-haired angels who never make a stir, but I vastly prefer the wicked, managing cousin you’ve turned out to be.”
“I beg your pardon!” Rose gaped at her in genuine outrage. “I’m the only one with any common sense in this entire household!”
“And you never would have said that out loud before,” said Georgie smugly. “You see? We’ve only just come to know our true cousin. We’re not going to give you up now.”
“Unless you hope to be wed very soon?” Beth’s voice was tentative. “If you’re secretly in love with someone from your first home ... I mean, even if he is terribly unsuitable, I’m sure Mama and Papa could be persuaded to understand in the end. They are both romantics at heart, you know.”
“I do.” ... And that was why Rose couldn’t take advantage of their good nature for much longer. Marriage would have been a lovely solution to her dilemma if only there’d been any true chance of achieving it here, in the middle of wildest Wales, with no dowry or prospects ... but only the most committed of romantics could imagine it likely to happen.
As for Rose, she would never again let herself rely upon such unlikely dreams. So she said, “Believe me, I’ve no intention of marrying anyone. We’ll just have to find a way to convince Aunt Parry that Mr Aubrey needs time to prepare his own family for the news before plans can be made.”
“Hmm.” Georgie’s tone was distinctly sceptical.
Rose didn’t allow it to distract her. “In the meantime, we can’t keep calling these poor creatures dragon number one and two. They need proper names, and we need a plan for their safekeeping, without letting Serena know too much about it.”
“They should have Welsh names!” said Beth. “We were all meant to, you know; Papa wanted me to be Bethan, not Elizabeth, but Mama insisted on being proper and English, for safety’s sake.”
“All the better to rise in Society,” Georgie murmured, and rolled her eyes as she stuck her hands into the pockets of her trousers.
“He could be Eurion.” Beth pronounced the name Eye-ree-on as she pointed to the golden dragon. “That means gold, so it would make sense.”
“Why not Griff, to give the poor little thing a bit of strength?” Georgie suggested. “Or Llew, for lion?”
“Oh, or he could be Samlet, or Rhys, or ...”
As the conversation transformed into a happy three-way debate – observed with wary interest by both dragons under discussion – that overwhelming sense of inexplicable panic gradually lifted its smothering weight from Rose’s chest, allowing her to draw deep, sustaining breaths again. As the golden dragon eased himself closer and closer to her side, half an inch at a time, and the red dragon closed her own eyes to fall asleep in the safety of Rose’s lap, Rose promised herself that she wouldn’t give into that sense of fear again. She couldn’t.
There were two dragons counting on her now.
Chapter 10
In the end, they settled on Griff for the nervous golden dragon, and Rose hoped for his sake that Georgie was right and the name would lend him a bit of courage. She couldn’t help feeling a twinge of guilt, though, when she agreed to name the red dragon Rhiannon after the heroine of some of the oldest stories of magic in Wales.
Of course, she knew that Mr Aubrey was undoubtedly correct: there must be some rational explanation for the little dragon’s incredible abilities. Still, according to Rose’s cousins, who had been raised by a shamelessly legend-loving father, the original Rhiannon had been gloriously beautiful, clever, and brave as well as otherworldly. As Rose remembered her first sight of those wild, impossible, golden eyes, she had to admit that the name – complete with otherworldly associations – was a perfect fit.
She petted Rhiannon’s smooth red scales in long, slow, and soothing strokes as the dragon sprawled in a warm heap across her lap, sleeping off what was clearly intense exhaustion. How long had it been since she’d felt safe enough to sleep? Rose couldn’t bear to move and disturb her slumber, even when Georgie and Beth both finally drifted off in pursuit of other, more active interests to fill their afternoon. Eventually, Rose’s legs would begin to cramp in their awkward position on the tiled floor, but for now, it felt surprisingly restful to sit in the silence of the old buttery, the dim light filtering through a sparkling cloud of dust-specks.
If she half-closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she was safely home in Cornwall, the warm weight of Elinor’s grumpy old tomcat on her lap. In the distance, her sisters would be chatting together as they worked at the dining table, organised by their mother into some busy new project for the good of the village, while Rose delayed a little longer and …
A surprisingly soft and warm snout nudged against her free left hand, recalling her to the present moment. Griff had finally dared to reach her side, and that bump had been no accident. When she looked down, she found him gazing up at her with transparently hopeful golden eyes. Holding her breath, Rose lifted her hand and set it tentatively on the back of his small head, just behind his two curling horns. She was ready for him to flinch away, but he leaned into her touch instead. A warm glow spread through her arm as she stroked down his long, scaled neck, careful not to lose the rhythm of Rhiannon’s petting with her other hand.
Griff let out a soft, clicking sound – a draconic purr, perhaps? – and then scooted forwards one last inch to lower his small, warm chin to rest atop her leg, just by the curve of Rhiannon’s red tail.
It took an effort to swallow over the lump that had suddenly risen within Rose’s throat, but she refused to frighten him with too much emotion. “Have you decided to trust me after all, then?” She kept her long strokes slow and light – nothing he couldn’t escape with ease – but she felt her own back relax more and more with every pet he accepted. “I’m not going to hurt you, little one. I promise. We both came here looking for safe harbour, didn’t we?”
The reminder brought her back, with sudden vividness, to that half-memory, half-dream that she had so thoughtlessly sunk into a moment ago. She had to breathe deeply for a minute before she could speak again. “I only wish I could have introduced you to my first family as well. Papa would have admired you so much and Mama would have known just what to do to make things right. And my sisters …”
Rose had to stop to swallow hard before continuing, with forced cheerfulness, “If only you could meet my sisters! You would love Elinor; she works so hard to make everyone feel safe. Animals always adore her. And Harry is so clever and funny! If only you could meet them … if I could only see their faces again …”
