“Exactly,” said Rose. “Worse yet, he’s seen Griff through the window now, so he knows that both of ‘your’ dragons look astonishingly like his. If we’re to have any hope of persuading him that we’re telling the truth and have nothing to hide, we must convince him that this is a true betrothal and we’re here only for a romantic rendezvous.”
Mr Aubrey let out a deep, weary sigh, his shoulders sagging. “Very well.” His eyelids slowly rose, revealing his wary green gaze. “Now that I have all the facts of the matter, I won’t be confused again. If you wish to return ...?”
“Wha—? No!” Rose scooted backwards, her cheeks burning with mortification. “I wasn’t—that is, I didn’t mean ... we’ve already done it. Haven’t we?” She swallowed hard. It wasn’t that she would precisely mind kissing Mr Aubrey again – purely for the dragons’ sake, of course – but to see him brace himself for the prospect ...
“No,” she repeated firmly. “I am quite certain that once was enough. Besides, once he saw that we—ah, saw exactly what we were doing, there was really no excuse for him to linger any longer.” Surely, Serena would demand more of his attention? She would hardly wish to stand about as a silent and inactive witness to her cousin’s rendezvous when she was meant to be performing the dramatic role of a Gothic heroine meeting a forbidden suitor amidst medieval ruins at midnight. “But perhaps ... perhaps we should move, after all, to somewhere with fewer windows.”
Five minutes later, they were back in the crowded buttery, where it had all begun less than a full day earlier. Griff and Rhiannon, at least, both seemed happy to be back amidst the clutter, and the high, leaded windows, partially blocked as they were by piles of stacked furniture, formed a perfect ward against onlookers. It was simple caution that made Rose peer around the shadowy back of the armoire, holding her candlestick high, to make certain that no third dragon was hiding there. The relief she felt at finding that space empty was almost enough to let her meet Mr Aubrey’s gaze as she sank onto the cool, tiled floor afterwards.
She couldn’t quite manage that, even in the safety of the low, flickering candlelight, but she did force a quick, reassuring smile in his direction, in case he feared that she might lunge across the space between them again. “This should be a much safer place for us to talk about magic.”
That forbidden word proved to be a perfect distraction. Mr Aubrey stiffened in instant repudiation, exactly as she’d hoped. “As I have already explained—”
“Every natural phenomenon can eventually be explained,” Rose finished for him drily. “Yes, I heard you say so earlier. But I should very much like you to explain this.”
Drawing a deep breath, she launched into a carefully expurgated description of the vision Griff had given her earlier, without mentioning Elinor’s part in it. Mr Aubrey might not be a gossip, but when it came to her sister’s safety, Rose couldn’t take the risk that he might let any details slip.
Still, he was frowning deeply – and sceptically – by the end. “And you’re certain that the dragon cast this ... so-called ‘vision’ for you?”
“I certainly didn’t do it myself,” Rose said tartly. “Believe me, if I could cast a spell and see either of my sisters from a distance, I would have done it months ago!” The wistful twist of pain in her chest, at that thought, lent an unintentional edge to her words. “I don’t need you to confirm that it was Griff who did it. I only need to know whether I should trust the vision he showed me.”
“Miss Parry ...”
“That is not my—”
“What I am trying to explain,” Mr Aubrey continued firmly, “is that it is simply not scientifically possible for both of these dragons to have inexplicable powers! If you had even the slightest comprehension of exactly how rare such a phenomenon is—”
“Do you think I imagined it? Or made it up for my own entertainment? I am not like Serena or my—!” Rose snapped her mouth shut, wincing, before she could finish the phrase ‘my father’. Still, it simmered in her blood as she glared at Mr Aubrey, meeting his infuriatingly authoritative gaze full-on. “Believe me, I am old enough to have full control over my own imagination. I do not indulge in wild fancies.” Not anymore. “I know exactly what Griff showed me this afternoon!”
Mr Aubrey sighed. “Of course I don’t believe that you invented this story, but if you simply fell into a half-sleep, as can happen to any of us on a warm afternoon, to create the most credibly vivid of dreams ...”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” Rose snapped. “Do you need to see it for yourself?”
Griff was sitting very still, only two feet away from her, his golden gaze an unbreakable beam of connection, while Rhiannon cheerfully foraged her way through the cluttered room on her usual hunt for treasures. Taking a long, calming breath as she turned, Rose gentled her voice with an effort. “Griff,” she murmured, “sweetheart, I—”
“Do not utter the words ‘I wish’!” Mr Aubrey’s voice rapped through the air with such force that the little dragon leapt backwards in alarm, sharp claws scrabbling on the dusty tiles.
“Shh!” Rose hissed. “I didn’t intend to.” Leaning forwards, she rested one elbow on the floor, lowering herself down to Griff’s height. “There, now,” she murmured. “You’re all right. He may sound frightening, but he dearly loves dragons. He would never try to hurt you, I promise.”
Mr Aubrey’s sigh was long and irritatingly expressive. “If we could, please, return to the matter at hand—?”
“If only,” Rose murmured, holding Griff’s gaze with her own, “he could see the truth for himself. If only you could show him, for my sake, so that he could understand and help us to—”
A sharp gasp cut her off.
Silver specks of light were streaming through the air towards Mr Aubrey. This afternoon, a writhing silver cloud had appeared before Rose and then expanded; this time, the specks shot past her, sparkling in the candlelight, to clump together and form a rapidly growing cloud directly before the scholar’s astonished face, creating a barrier between them.
All Rose could see was silver upon silver, rippling through the air and obscuring Mr Aubrey’s features. It was only his low, wordless exclamation of shock that made her realise, a moment later, a new vision had begun.
Oh, dear. She had forgotten to ask Griff not to show Mr Aubrey Elinor’s part of the vision, hadn’t she? With luck, the scholar would be too distracted by the theoretical implications to be too scandalised by her older sister’s behaviour. Still ...
Rose glanced sidelong at Griff. The golden dragon looked perfectly calm and alert. Indeed, he looked back at her with the assurance of one who expected a great reward for his work. So she gave it, stroking her fingers down his long neck and murmuring low encouragement, even as Mr Aubrey grew more and more stiff with tension only a few feet away. His breathing harshened increasingly until it filled her ears, speeding up with some strong emotion between outrage and incredulity.
Even Rhiannon paused in her explorations, twisting her long neck around and cocking her head in curiosity.
Mr Aubrey leapt to his feet and slashed one hand through the cloud in refutation. It dissipated, leaving him panting, disordered, and finally revealed to Rose’s view once more.
“You see?” She gave Griff one more pat of appreciation and then gathered up her skirts in preparation to rise to her companion’s level. “Now that you understand what he can do—”
