Launch Day for Dragons Beyond the Pale

Dragons Beyond the Pale is now available on Amazon!

January 10, 1815, London

Darcy led the way to his study at the front of the house. That Uncle stalked behind him, not speaking, spoke volumes: the matter was serious, not frivolous; and the information not to be casually trusted to the servants, human and dragon alike.

Simply put, this was bad.

Darcy paused at the study door to savor the image, just for a moment. His father’s large mahogany desk, flanked by matching bookcases near the door, a pair of leather wingback chairs, dark brown and well-worn, near the fireplace, even the scent: wood smoke and old books, felt like home.

It seemed as though nothing had been touched since he left, just the way he preferred. The blue leatherbound journal on the desk had been left open to the page he had intentionally left it on, the books beside it bore a light film of dust. No doubt the housekeeper hated that, but it was exactly what he preferred. A man’s study should not be interfered with.

Uncle Matlock closed the study door firmly, the sound like a throat-clearing introduction to an unpleasant conversation. “Walker should be privy to this discussion.” He headed toward the servants’ door, opened it and checked the passage.

Things were not simply bad. Apparently, they were very bad.

Darcy opened the window and blew the brass whistle on the watch fob that Walker himself had given him so many years ago, the one he could hear from miles away.

“Before I forget,” Matlock sat in one of the wingback chairs near the room’s primary iron dragon perch. “My wife is talking to yours about the Cotillion. Best you know now. Elizabeth has been assigned to present your sister, both of hers, and Lady Wentworth at the affair.”

“Nonsense! Who could have planned such a thing?” Darcy slapped the top edge of the chair. “She is already overburdened. Someone else will have to handle the matter. Aunt can present Georgiana, and her father—”

“I attempted to argue the same thing. But it seems there are those who would be happy to take the Sage down a peg or two by allowing her to falter in her social duties.”

“How could you have permitted such a thing? After the affairs of Bath—you know how hard she has worked. How could you sanction—”

“The invitations have been sent. To alter the arrangement now would only be to her detriment. The matters were established whilst I was in Bath, and there was little I could do once we returned. Besides, these affairs are overseen by the Cotillion Board, not the Council. I should hardly interfere.”

“So, you support this ill-conceived attempt at—”

Uncle shrugged his shoulders and flipped his hand, the same way he had dismissed Darcy when he was a boy. “Frankly, there are much more significant matters which require my attention right now. The details of a ball are the least of my worries.”

Walker swooped in and landed gracefully on the wrought iron perch. He pointed at the empty chair with his wing and squawked.

Darcy obeyed, though he did not relax into the chair.

“Thank you for attending us Walker. It is only right that you understand the full breadth of what is happening.”

“Pendragon’s Bones! What is going on?” Darcy glanced at Walker.

“What indeed?” Walker hissed, focusing his piercing predator’s gaze on Uncle Matlock.

“What I am about to tell you has not even been officially shared with the Council, yet. I will be meeting with them directly after I leave here. Best close the window, now that I think of it. We do not need help from the local fairy dragons.” Matlock trundled to the window, closing it himself.

He did not call for Darcy to do it.

Very, very bad.

Why did he not just come out with it?

Back in his seat, Matlock rubbed his hands along his thighs. “On the basis of bits and pieces of fairy dragon gossip that has been picked up here and there, I took a circuitous route home from Bath, visiting a number of less appealing establishments, and some rather dissolute dragon Friends along the way.”

“Associates of William Elliot and Jet by any chance?” Darcy asked.

“He was quite forthcoming with suggestions of those we might be interested in. No honor among that sort, to be sure.”

Walker snorted.

“His information led us to several interesting places and a few associates of your friend Mr. Wickham.” Matlock allowed the name to hang in the air. He had never approved of Wickham and still held a grudge against Father for having favored him.

Walker hissed and flapped. Even after all these years, that sound still raised chill-bumps on the back of his neck.

“Dragon hearers mostly, but there were a few dragon-deaf amongst them who had been let in on the world of the Order. All are in secure custody now, of course. Some are quite ready to talk in hopes of not being eaten.”

And who could blame them? “What has been learned?”

“We are still sorting that out. I am afraid it may be some time before we can piece it all together. All we are certain of right now is that there is indeed an active band of smugglers dedicated to the traffic of dragons, their eggs, and,” Uncle gulped, “even their bodies and parts.”

“Dragon’s fire!” Darcy leapt to his feet and began to pace the length of the narrow room. Anything to shed the electric energy coursing through his limbs.

“I have already sent word to Richard. He and Earl will be working their way down from the north, looking into the matter. Several others with espionage backgrounds have also been similarly deployed. In the meantime, we must wait.”

Walker growled.

“And watch, of course.” Matlock nodded at Walker. “It is not a stretch to see how little Pemberley, now that she is far better known than a baby firedrake might otherwise be, thanks to Elizabeth’s insistence she be part of every Blue Order activity possible—”

Darcy clenched his fists.

“No, I am not going to fall into a debate of whether or not such risk is warranted. The point is that we know there are those connected to the smugglers who are aware of Pemberley who see her as an attractive target for their efforts.”

“Then we should return—”

“Cownt Matlock and I have considered that possibility, but we agree that Darcy House in London is much more defensible than Pemberley where the extensive grounds are much more difficult to keep watch over.”

That seemed more than a suggestion.

“He is right.” Walker muttered as he paced sideways along his perch.

“On the Cownt’s orders, there will be a cockatrice guard stationed on your roof who will report directly to Walker. Several of our larger minor drakes will be assigned to your house staff for security inside. I will leave it to you to explain their presence to your wife and staff without revealing the true nature of our concerns.”

Walker growled. That should have caught Uncle’s attention, but he seemed to ignore it.

“I cannot keep secrets from Elizabeth.”

“I am not giving you a choice.” Uncle leaned forward, elbows on knees and glared. “She has proven herself impulsive and unpredictable—”

“And generally correct—”

“In critical dragon matters, and the situation right now requires a delicate diplomatic hand.”

“You do not understand. One does not keep secrets from her. She will find out; the dragons will tell her everything. I know you will order them not to, but you do not understand the power my wife has with them. They will tell her. Nothing I say or do will make a difference.”

“The Order’s members will obey my commands. You will obey me, both of you.”

Walker shrieked softly, enough to raise the hairs on the back of Uncle’s neck if the way he rubbed at it was any indication. “Darcy is right. No dragon bent on her protection will fail to inform her of the truth. We are forthright creatures by nature, not deceptive ones. It is not our nature to conceal. Something she knows and you do not appear to understand.” The statement ended with an angry hiss.

Had Walker really just told the Chancellor of the Order that he was refusing an order?

Uncle muttered and grumbled under his breath. “Then it is on your heads to see that she does not interfere with our operations in any way. I did not want to mention this, but we have concerns for baby Anne as well. Apparently, she is as well-known as Pemberley and an equally attractive target—”

“And you did not think it essential to inform her mother of that?”

Uncle avoided Darcy’s gaze. “—it is critical that she not leave Darcy House for any reason. We need a better understanding of what we are facing. Nanny will, of course, need to be brought in on our concerns and security measures. An additional drake and cockatrice will be assigned to their protection at all times. And I suggest you avoid admitting any persons into your home who are not vetted members of the Order.”

And all this, he thought should be accomplished without informing Elizabeth? How had Uncle’s judgment become so questionable? “I will inform the butler. The Cotillion then? Will that not be cancelled?”

“No, we cannot afford to do that and give away our hand.”

“But the security risk of so many traveling to London?”

 “I have taken the liberty of assigning cockatrice patrols to discreetly watch over Georgiana, Mrs. Collins and Miss Bennet’s travels here. They are not nearly so well known, nor likely to be of great interest to smugglers. But just in case.”

“And Elizabeth?”

Uncle rolled his eyes, closed them and shook his head, sighing. “If you cannot keep her to Darcy House, she should travel via the dragon tunnels at all times, with a guard, never, never alone.”

What do you think of Lord Matlock’s concerns? What is in store for Darcy and Elizabeth? Tell me in the comments