My Lady's Dragon

Chiara da Luna

Chapter 8

Lil's voice cut through the exclamations. "I'd ignore it, unless you want to go back to Wexley anyway."

Rose felt a stab of longing for her home. Then she remembered its transformation since her father's death. "There are many places I would rather go and do than return to Wexley with my aunt there. Starving in a ditch would be one. And I also would ignore such a summons, were I twenty-seven instead of twenty. But as I am not of age, I can hardly do so."

"I shouldn't think she'd come after you," volunteered Lavinia. "Not into a whole covert full of dragons, when the sight of one left her prostrate."

"And I shall not allow her to come near you," stated Florenzia with a flick of her tail that sent a chair flying and the company ducking and shouting.

Rose rubbed her forehead. "She doesn't have to come herself. She has only to pay some bravo to march in, wave a legal document, and demand me. Florenzia, you cannot kill people who are within their legal rights."

Florenzia cocked her head in puzzlement. "I do not see why not. Do legal rights confer magical powers?"

"Oh, give over, Flossie. It wouldn't be allowed, and if you did it anyway, you'd be shot," said Lil with a scowl. "I can't understand why Pa would make such a harridan your guardian, Rose."

"Not her, of course, but my uncle, who is ruled by her..." Rose's voice trailed away. "It must be in Mother's will."

"I daresay it was, but you didn't listen to the solicitor johnny after he told you the numbers. I didn't either because I was afraid you were going to fall out of your chair. You'll have to write the old buzzard," said Lil.

"Stay! I remember a letter..." Rose ran to her room and began rifling through her father's letters. Clutching her prize, she returned to the living area of the pavilion. "Here it is. My father wrote, 'I have arranged in my will for Miss Meggars to continue as Basil's nurse'-Who was Meggy, Lil? Oh, never mind, we've no time for it now-'and for you to choose an additional guardian. My solicitor says the provision will stand in court, but I should like you to review it with your own man of business...' So Mother would have appointed someone else, certainly not my uncle. I shall write to her solicitor immediately."

"One of her family maybe?" asked Lil. "I don't see that being better."

"No matter." Rose went to the small desk that her mother had used. "Once the solicitor is involved, he may write letters until doomsday—or at least until I come of age early next year."

"Rose, dearest, does this mean you will stay with me?" asked Florenzia in a voice painful but full of hope.

Rose hesitated. "It means that I do not choose to leave at my aunt's command. I make no promises for the future. It is so murky. But I am deeply honored that you want me to stay."

"You have quite convinced me that you cannot be my captain," said Florenzia with obvious mendacity. "But you fulfill so many useful roles that I cannot imagine doing without you. Even if you choose not to teach when Mrs. Pemberton returns, I should like you to continue as my secretary and music mistress." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You know that we all need you in that capacity."

Rose smiled as she prepared her pen. "Certainly. Molly, start drying Lt. Roland's hair."

"Don't you dare come near me with anything sharper or hotter than a towel!" shouted Emily before ducking under the water one last time.

Lavinia gave a wave to the company. "I'll leave you to your gentrification, Emily. Molly, Rev. Edwards has returned at last. So tomorrow I'll expect the underage crew in their best clothes here at the pavilion thirty minutes before chapel. Florenzia wants to inspect them."

Florenzia nodded, pleased, and Molly clapped her hands. "Oh, Lavvy—Lieutenant-you must wear your new church dress. I have just finished adjusting the hem, in drapery gathers, like Lt. Roland's overdress." She pitched an armful of towels in Emily's general direction and skipped to her own room. While Emily was still trying to keep the towels from falling in the bath, Molly returned, arms full of the palest mint green muslin shot through with great swaths of white. In almost holy reverence, Molly spread the dress, culled from Rose's trunks, and its frilly white petticoat across a chair in front of Lavinia. "You see, Lavvy—Lieutenant-"

"Molly, the entire room knows that you've known me since your cradle," said Lavinia, with good humor. "In such company, when we're off duty, you may call me Lavvy, if you do so respectfully."

"Oh, yes, thank you, Lavvy! I will! But only see, I have made you a bonnet, too. That is, Lady Rose said I might decorate one of her plain ones for you. She keeps some plain, basic hats for emergencies." She held up her creation, which she had carried under the dress, while Lil snorted and coughed at the thought of a fashion emergency.

Speechless, Lavinia turned the confection over in her hands. Looking up from her letter, Rose's eyes widened. She wondered if taste could be taught. Molly had covered every inch of the bonnet with a bead, bow, knot, or flower. She clearly had expanded her skills and the bonnet's surface to the breaking point.

"You'll look like you stuck your head in a cake," Lil said. "I shouldn't wonder if Rose has any gewgaws left at all."

"She has. Heaps," confirmed Molly. Picking up the increasingly tattered magazine, she opened it to its fashion plate, showing a group of five willowy damsels sporting science-defying bonnets. "It's the very latest fashion."

"That it is," agreed Lavinia, still examining it from every side. "And aren't you a clever puss, to copy them all into one hat."

Molly beamed. Lil started a guffaw that inevitably turned into a cough, and the others made noises that might have had their origins in mirth, except for Lavinia, who sucked in a deep breath and made a solemn reply.

"Thank you very much, Molly. I am happy to have such nice clothes, both for chapel here and for when I visit my family, where it will put paid our ancient game of What Shall We Put on Lavvy to Take Her to Church. Somehow putting on everyone's second best makes me look decidedly third rate. But now I shall be the envy of my sisters." Lavinia gathered the dress in one arm and held the hat as far in front of herself as possible.

"It is too bad that my new dress is not ready tonight," said Molly with a disappointed sigh. "Lavvy and I would look so nice with Lady Rose and Lt. Roland."

"Tonight is Emily's night," said Rose, pausing in her writing. "The rest of us but supporting players. And Lt. Dane's dress is a day dress. It would look odd with our evening clothes. You will want to have your own day, Molly, which will not be far away. When you have the second sleeve set, adding the skirt is no trouble at all. You have done an excellent job on the first sleeve. Setting the is very important. No amount of jewelry can make up for careful work at this stage. "

Molly sighed again. "Sewing goes so slow."

Smiling, Rose said, "Many of the most worthwhile activities do go slowly. Dragon captains are trained since age seven, and other professions also require long apprenticeships. You are moving fast in two professions."

"I wish it felt that way." At Emily's beckoning from near the fire, Molly rubbed fresh towels through the lieutenant's hair, which started to glint as it dried. After Emily shook her hair out, Molly brushed it to a high gleam and twisted feathers and ribbons into hair ornaments to the accompaniment of Lil's mockery.

"I don't care what you say, Lil," said Emily finally, as Molly smoothed the last curl into place. "I don't like it any better than you, but Mother says the days are over when a female aviator can live in the coverts all her life. I intend to be Lord Admiral myself one day, and I will have to be a lady to do so."

Florenzia placed her hand mirror—the former Grand Mirror of the Wexley Great Hall—in front of Emily, who gasped and covered her bare chest. "Heavens! What happened to this dress? I am sure it was not cut so low when I tried it on at the store."

"Yes, it is exactly the same as it was," Rose assured her. "Perhaps you did not notice the details there. Here, let me arrange your shawl. It will cover your arms."

"It ought to be tied around my neck! And the details are going before me like frigates. I might as well walk around without a shirt."

Rose repinned a few curls to give the illusion of different lengths as Molly fastened Emily's garnets around her neck. "But you are almost eighteen, the age of most girls when they are presented. I wore many such dresses in my London seasons when I was younger than you. No one could have any objection."

"Oh, couldn't they just? You've never served under Captain Picky-Prude. He's likely to throw his coat over me," Emily pronounced with gloom.

"Captain Laurence is perfectly familiar with evening dress," said Rose firmly.

"I think his eyes will pop right out of his head," said Lil. "And not only his. I must see this. Flossie, will you carry me to the dining hall? I'll put on my best clothes for the occasion."

Rose turned back to the desk to fold her letters and seal them. She then turned her attention to her own toilette, intended in its somber black to provide a foil for Emily, bright as the sun. She sat perfectly still as Molly made curls and then decorated the curls. As a last touch, she took her mourning brooch that Molly held out and pinned it to her corsage.

"Isn't that your aunt's gift?" asked Florenzia. She sniffed, and said, "I shouldn't wear it."

Rose traced the grisaille weeping willow and touched each of the roses. "But it was my choice. And at least-" She thought of the second brooch, bought for a sister who would never wear it. "At least she spent more than she intended to."

"It is very pretty." Florenzia sighed, envious. "I suppose I would wear it, just to spite her."

"Molly! Hi, I say, Molly!" shouted Lil as she burst from her room. "What do you mean by it? Are you trying to make a guy of me?" She waved something white.

Emily and Rose exchanged puzzled looks as Molly inched behind them. Emily asked, "What's wrong with your shirt?"

Lil flushed a furious red. "Only that it's covered in ruffles, ruffles trimmed in lace."

"But you may see gentlemen wearing such shirts in London any day of the week," objected Rose.

"I'm not a gentleman, and we're not in London. Molly, you wretched brat, how could you?"

"You said to do your mending," said Molly, with just the trace of a quaver. "You liked the way I mended your trousers."

Lil shouted through her coughs, "The trousers had a hole in them, a certain lack of fabric at a strategic spot."

Molly found her courage and retorted, "The shirt had a certain lack of lace that I remedied."

Lil's face turned a dull purple in her rage. "You'll rip it off right now. Better yet, bring me those scissors and I'll do it. Save your fol-lols for those that want them. Next you'll be putting ruffles and lace on our drawers."

Molly dropped her gaze, but not before Rose saw her guilty expression. Florenzia moved in closer and put her head down in front of Lil. "That will be sufficient, Lilias Blakeney. I asked Molly to smarten up your clothes, and I think she has done an excellent job. My captain wore dress shirts with ruffles and lace, and very smart she looked. One expects the crew of a superior dragon to do her justice."

"Well, damn your eyes, Flossie." Lil almost spit in her rage. "If you want a captain fit for St. James, take Rose. For myself, I think I'll stay here and skip dinner after all. Molly, you can bring me some soup."

Molly curtsied to no one in particular—she abandoned Aerial Corps custom when she wore dresses and was currently attired in the one that her sister had made over. Everyone jumped when Lil slammed the door to her room.

Florenzia frowned and rumbled deep in her throat. "It is my pavilion, the gift of my captain, that she's damaging. I won't have it."

Emily studied Rose's face. "Would you prefer to stay here? Molly could bring soup for you too. You're pale as snow."

Rose bit her lips and pinched her cheeks to restore their color. "I would not miss your debut for the world." She looked down, away from Emily's steady gaze. In a quieter voice, as though speaking to herself, she whispered, "If I can go to Almack's to dance and laugh at inanities of idiot lordlings while watching my father among the chaperones coughing his life away with my mother propping him up—why, surely I can sit down to dinner..." She swallowed. "...with friends."

Florenzia embraced her with both tail and neck, fortunately with incredible delicacy. "Oh, Rose! Truly I understand now. For years you have been pushed to mate when you had not the least inclination. You have endured sorrow on sorrow for so very long. I am resolved that I shall never mention the matter to you again. Emily, you will tell-"

"There is no need for anyone to tell anyone anything," gasped Rose, from her complete swaddling on all sides with dragon scales and dragon scent, milder while more exotic than horse aromas.

Emily patted the dragon's shoulder. "Here, Florenzia, you're mussing her dress."

Florenzia lifted her coils so suddenly that Rose stumbled. Emily took her arm and led her to the pavilion steps. "I do wish somebody would have a child for my captain so that his thrice-blasted dragon might quit pushing me to do so," she said. "Though maybe it would not answer: Temeraire says that I owe it to him because he and Captain Laurence have raised me and trained me to be an officer, and I will leave them at some time to be Excidium's captain. So there's no reason for you to do so if you don't fancy him. On some points, you must be firm with dragons."

Rose glanced back with some doubt at the twelve-ton matchmaker, who beamed fondly at the two of them.

"How lovely they look! I am sure they might have their pick of anyone they like!" said Florenzia to Molly in her clarion whisper.

"I am strongly reminded of London in the Season," said Rose.

As they left the courtyard of dragon pavilions, Emily clutched Rose's arm hard enough to hurt. Emily shuddered as all eyes turned to them, including the group of captains sauntering towards the dining hall. A tall, plumed aviator's hat stuck up from the middle of this gathering.

"Mother!" cried Emily, abandoning decorum and trying to run. She tripped on her skirts and stumbled forward, pitching into the arms of someone Rose belated recognized as Captain Laurence. He was dressed in the Chinese fashion, long pale blue silk robes sprinkled with small opals cunningly held with gold thread. He looked miserable but determined in his duty.

The tall dark-haired woman in full aviator dress laughed deep in her chest, a happy sound that warred with the vicious scar slashing across her face from eye to throat. "My goodness, Emily. So this is why half the Dover merchants are sending me bills."

As she pushed away, Emily opened her eyes wide and batted them as she attempted a curtsy. "But Mother, what could I do in face of my captain's wish for his officers to dine in evening dress?"

"Laurence!" said Emily's mother in exasperated affection. "You didn't? I thought this turnout was for a special occasion."

Rose interjected with some anxiety. "Truly I think he was only trying to set me at my ease for having misunderstood the customs here. Although the pink gown is for the opera."

"Ho, the opera, is it?" Emily's mother didn't seem to be able to stop laughing.

"To which I hope you will accompany us," Laurence said, seeming glad of a diversion. "But our manners have gone begging." His eyes darted back and forth with the look Rose had seen when people were calculating precedence. Who should be introduced, seated, or recognized first? "Jane, may I present Lady Rose Danforth, Captain Blakeney's daughter. Lady Rose, this is the Aerial Corps' Lord Admiral Jane Roland, Emily's mother."

Instinctively, Rose sank into the same deep curtsy she'd made at her presentation to the Queen. The head of the Corps was very like a queen, she reflected.

"Oh how beautiful! However will you get up?" exclaimed Emily as Rose effortlessly floated to her feet and murmured her pleasure at the introduction.

Lawrence's eyes twinkled, but he gave no indication that he found her obeisance blasphemous. Admiral Roland, though, immediately fell sober.

"Lady Rose, I am pleased to be able to offer my condolences in person. I counted your mother as one of my best captains and a dear friend. And your sister's illness! It does not bear thinking of! But of course it must be. What a pity you cannot step into her place! A pity for us, that is. Of course we cannot ask you to leave your place in Society."

As they turned to the dining hall, Rose started to point out her lack of qualifications, but before she could reply, Emily burst in.

"Mother, you are arrived just in time for our sewing circle tomorrow. Do come!" her daughter begged.

Admiral Roland looked blank with astonishment. "Sewing circle? In the Aerial Corps? Laurence, is this more of your subversion to turn the Corps into a seminary for young ladies?"

Knowing that Emily was perfectly capable of a blunt explanation in front of Laurence, Granby, and the other men, Rose interjected, "Some of the ladies want to learn to make garments appropriate for female aviators."

The Admiral still looked baffled; Emily enlightened her. "Drawers, Mother. With flaps in the right places."

Laurence flushed the brightest of reds, and Rose knew her burning face must be his mirror. "Captain Laurence, Florenzia has commissioned me with several questions for you. Might we discuss them now?"

"At your service, Lady Rose." Grabbing her excuse and her arm gratefully, he whisked her almost out of earshot.

The Admiral was saying behind them, "A very clever notion indeed. Now tell me, what about-"

Rose spoke somewhat louder than necessary, "Captain Laurence, Florenzia wishes to make settlements on the families of those who died in her last battle, out of her own capital, that is. She would also like to provide her living crew with some kind of extra remuneration. She seeks your advice on the proper amounts and the method of doing so."

As Laurence's cheeks started to cool, he attempted a smile. "Dragons with capital! It was not thought of when I first joined the Corps. Of course, I had no notion of dragons at all, just the scurrilous and ignorant gossip that abounds."

Rose took a much deeper breath than necessary for the whisper: "You were not bred as an aviator. Do you think I should become Florenzia's captain?"

Laurence looked wretched. "I do not know how to advise you. Britain needs every dragon it can possibly get, especially the more experienced ones, to end this long war. Yet I have always regretted that women had to be part of this hard service, and you are the kind of woman I imagined and pitied. Certainly Jane, Emily, Harcourt, your mother, and your sister would laugh at the notion. But you would be giving up the gracious, respectable life that you have known. Would the careless thanks of your nation be sufficient solace? I do not say it is impossible to be married or have children, but not in the traditional manner of setting up housekeeping together. From an aviator's point of view, your parents' marriage seems ideal."

Realizing how little she had to give up, how her gracious life had evaporated, Rose winked away moisture from her eyes. "Of course, I dreamed of marriage and children and my own home, first so that I could care for my father, and then a home I could offer my mother when she retired."

In the silence that settled over them, Laurence squeezed her hand in sympathy. "It is difficult to form new dreams when circumstances erase those you entertained for so long."

Rose did not trust herself with a reply.

Laurence turned their steps back to the dining hall and attempted to turn the topic. "I am thinking that after dinner, Jane—Lord Admiral Roland—would very much enjoy hearing your choristers, both aviator and dragon, if it could be arranged."

"A very good idea. I will send word to Florenzia and my sister, to ensure that it is convenient for them to receive guests." Rose swallowed in nervousness. It seemed the moment to bring forward a concern that had been gnawing at her. "I should like Lord Admiral Roland's approval of our activities."

"Singing hymns and madrigals and glees?" asked Laurence with a smile. "Surely there can be no objection. How I look forward to it! Temeraire enjoys it very much, I assure you. And of course I've heard Florenzia practicing with you. I wonder why it never occurred to anyone that Xenicas are natural coloraturas. Temeraire tells me that there is talk of presenting an oratorio, though I do not see how you will ever pick one with enough parts for all who want to sing."

Rose considered the matter and decided to take the fence at a rush. "Yes, they—the dragons—do intend to present an oratorio. They have selected 'Judas Maccabeus,' because Temeraire thinks it would be very politic to serenade the Duke of Wellington when he comes to review them."

"Good God," said Laurence, his face going blank.

"With an aerial display," said Rose, determined to confess all.

"Jane must know of this!"

"Yes, but the oratorio is just for practice, to accustom them to performing, to prepare them for the opera they want to present at the subscription party in the fall. They have chosen Mozart's 'Zauberflote,' because Temeraire thinks dragons singing paeans to Reason cannot but help their cause." She rushed on, despite Laurence's gobbles of horror." They have begun casting, and with more than 20 solo parts, they are sure that everyone who wants a part can have one. Temeraire, who is more comfortable in the higher ranges, will sing the tenor role of Prince Tamino, who wields the magic flute. He has taken down a tree and has had it hollowed out to make a dragon-sized flute. I have explained to him that a flautist in the orchestra would play the magical flute parts, but he thinks that a truly accomplished dragon should be able to both play and sing."

"Please tell me that Iskierka is not undertaking the role of his romantic lead," begged Laurence, rubbing his forehead as though in pain. "I can just see her flaming her way through an aria."

Rose assured him, "No, for the hero and heroine must go through a fiery trial, and you must see that Iskierka must provide the fire for them to walk through. Kaziko the waterspout dragon promises to monitor the fire closely to avoid tragedy. So Lily will sing the Princess Tamina role. Florenzia is to be the Queen of the Night—she has learned one aria already and is adding a cadenza, which sounds very nice—but if everyone adds cadenzas and Perschitia adds ballets, the piece will take a week to perform."

"Ballet? Dragons in ballet?" Laurence staggered, possibly having tripped over a stone.

"Yes. She feel that the scene where the hero charms the beasts of the forest with his magic flute and the scene of Papageno's children could be extended into ballets, the first for the larger dragons and the second for the smaller dragons. And this after I told her that the audience will expect to see a ballet after the opera."

"So Perschitia is the impresario?"

"Chorus and Ballet Mistress so far. She would like a solo role as well, but she recognizes that she could not do justice to the heroine's part with all these other duties. She does think she could handle the ingenue role of Papagena, whose aria is late in the second act—and she'd be ideally placed to direct the children's ballet—but as the character is a bird woman, Churki thinks she ought to have it, being our only feather-type dragon. Lester, Gherni, and Minnow are to be the Guiding Spirits, and there are many other roles still to be cast."

"Still to be cast? I cannot credit it—I only wonder that they have not printed the playbills yet."

"They do intend to do so as soon as they have a notice of the full cast, including the chorus, dancers, and instrumentalists, so that it can be included in the Writings of the Dragons book."

"Temeraire has not said a word about this!" exclaimed Laurence.

"No. The dragons want to surprise everybody, but I could not think it right to pledge such an undertaking without someone's permission."

"I should rather think so!" He sighed. "I supposed they will have costumes."

"Of course," said Rose in a small voice. "Molly has already begun sketches."

"Excuse me. Jane must know immediately!" He ran to catch the others up and whispered in some urgency to Lord Admiral Roland.

Her booming laugh rang across the courtyard. She was wiping her eyes when Rose joined them. "Lady Rose, I have loved the Corps and certainly Excidium all my remembered life, but I never knew how entertaining dragons could be. It does bring one up short, to realize how we neither expected nor allowed them to do anything but eat and fight, and I know that is exactly what Temeraire wants me to think. I expect to see him as Prime Minister one day."

Laurence blanched at the probability.

16