Cursing silently, Rose turned within Mr Aubrey’s loosening grasp to find Rhiannon peering up from the seat of her abandoned chair with big, worried golden eyes. At least Cwtch had been shut out from this particular social gathering, so there was no danger of any canine attack. However, the red dragon’s tail curled tighter and tighter around herself as noisy exclamations of human consternation and excitement broke out across the room. Still, her small body didn’t budge ...
And the elegant Miss Thomas’s sudden hiss of breath struck Rose’s ears like a knell of doom. “Ohhh, that dragon—”
“Belongs to my fiancé, of course.” Ruthlessly dismissing the last shreds of her earlier humiliation, Rose smiled dazzlingly up at Mr Aubrey, willing him with all her might to take her on-the-spot direction one more time. “He’s been allowing me to practise looking after her in preparation for our marriage. Isn’t that wonderfully generous of him?”
From such close proximity, she could absorb every tiny detail as the faint creases around the scholar’s eyes crinkled in unhidden exasperation ... but a rueful crease deepened an instant later in one lean cheek. “Naturally,” he murmured. “Why not, after all?”
He really was good at following her lead! Rose beamed at him approvingly.
His eyes narrowed, holding hers with a surprising spark of challenge.
“But—!” Aunt Parry’s voice rose plaintively from the front of the room. “But I’d thought—wasn’t that only a misunderstanding earlier? I don’t understand!”
“It has been very sudden,” Rose said, yanking her gaze free from her temporary fiancé. She set one soothing hand atop Rhiannon’s small head as she turned to face her aunt, who looked torn between alarm and wonder. “I do beg your pardon, Aunt. We had been planning to speak privately to both you and Uncle Parry tonight, before we understood that there would be quite so many guests assembled ...”
“A waste of my last row of knitting, if they were already betrothed!” Miss Conway snorted. “A waste of your time, too, Angharad, going to all this trouble, if—”
“What?” Baffled, Rose frowned at her elderly neighbour.
Miss Thomas spoke over her. “Forgive me for asking ... but are you quite certain this dragon belongs to Mr Aubrey?”
Protective fury instantly overwhelmed every other consideration. Rose shifted to stand like a shield between Rhiannon and Sir Gareth’s niece. “My fiancé is the foremost dragon scholar in Britain,” she said coldly. “Do you imagine he wouldn’t be able to recognise his own dragon?”
Mr Aubrey’s faint, pained sigh rustled against her hair.
“I suppose not.” Miss Thomas’s elegant eyebrows lowered over her dark, intent eyes, and Rose’s tension spiralled upwards in tandem. Then, like sunshine breaking through the clouds, her lovely face eased into a smile of unexpected delight. “Well, that’s simply wonderful news!”
“It ... is?” Rose blinked at her.
“Of course! I’m so happy for both of you. Do you know, I have always wished for a dragon of my own.” Miss Thomas sighed wistfully. “Back in Calcutta, before Papa died, we read all of the newspaper articles about their rediscovery. Oh, how I used to dream of waltzing about ballrooms with a dragon on my shoulder when we finally moved together to England! And Papa said—well, never mind. Of course, everything changed after that.” Her face shuttered, becoming carefully blank.
Sympathy clutched at Rose’s chest. She knew the look she’d just glimpsed in the other girl’s eyes: a flash of pure devastation, yawning soul-deep beneath that sparkling social veneer. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Miss Thomas’s expression tightened, as if she were battling to hold down strong emotion. A moment later, though, she resurfaced with a small, pained smile. “The truth is, though, I’ve been extremely fortunate. Do you know, I hadn’t the faintest notion that Uncle Gareth even existed until a mere twelvemonth ago? I’d thought myself entirely alone in the world when I first lost Papa, but it seems he had named a guardian for me after all. I must be very grateful for being granted a safe home now.”
“Hmph.” Lounging with one arm draped over the back of her chair, Georgie didn’t even bother to disguise a snort. “I’d say he’s the one who’s fortunate to have found you as a companion. He’s not exactly sociable up there in his perch, is he?”
“He ... is very much occupied with his own important concerns.” Miss Thomas’s determined smile didn’t falter. “But I am so delighted to finally become acquainted with our new neighbours! I don’t like to disturb Uncle Gareth with too much of my nonsense, but I must confess I have been longing for conversation.”
“Well, then, you must keep company with us,” said Aunt Parry. “Of course you will always be welcome here, my dear.”
“Oh, yes!” Serena’s face lit up as she straightened in her seat. “And you must tell us everything. Is your uncle truly—”
“Ahem!” Aunt Parry shot her oldest daughter a quelling look before returning her gaze to Miss Thomas, strain threading through the usual warmth of her voice. “You may call upon us any day you like, with no need to wait for any more official invitations. But at this moment ...” Drawing herself up, she clasped her hands together and addressed the full room. “I am so very grateful to all of you, my kind friends, for lending my little story so much assistance. Unfortunately, I believe our family urgently requires a private conversation.”
The minatory look that she gave Rose – and then poor Mr Aubrey – left no question about exactly which topic would be under discussion.
It had been some time since Rose had been the recipient of such a look from an esteemed older relative. It made her stomach twist with sudden, unexpected nerves ... but she took a deep, steadying breath as she recalled all of her obligations, draconic and human alike. Using their neighbours’ chatty, slow-moving exodus as a shield, she leaned closer to her reluctant fiancé and whispered in his ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll manage my aunt. You may flee and take refuge with my uncle, but I must speak to you about the dragons as soon as possible!”
Mr Aubrey’s brow furrowed as he leaned closer, that teasing lemon-and-sandalwood scent brushing against her skin. “Is something amiss with either of them?”
“Not ... exactly.” Biting her lip, she glanced down at Rhiannon, visibly trembling under the force of so many loud voices and tall bodies moving around her, but who still waited with courageous determination for Rose’s attention.
Had it been mere coincidence that had transported Rhiannon to her side at that singular moment, just after Rose had been knocked off her feet and overwhelmed with panic and burning mortification?
Considered logically, of course, coincidence was the only plausible explanation. And yet ... something about the dragon’s determined gaze made her wonder. Could Rhiannon actually have arrived with the intention of helping her?
“There is no need for you to look after me,” she informed the dragon.
