January 11, 1815, Kellynch-by-the-Sea

The sun hung midway between dawn and noon, steadfastly refusing to deliver enough warmth to vanquish the prevailing chill. Anne rubbed her gloved hands over the arms of her navy-blue wool pelisse and pulled the heavy basket closer to her chest.

Would she ever become accustomed to the near constant sea breeze that buffeted her every time she visited Kellynch’s lair? Probably no sooner than she became accustomed to being addressed as Lady Wentworth—it was still difficult not to look for some dowager lurking in the shadows when she heard the name.

Perhaps Kellynch was right; using the dragon tunnels from the house to the lair would be more comfortable. If only they did not remind her of the dark alley behind the Bath Assembly rooms—and Mr. Elliot.

Thankfully Wentworth understood and did not insist.

She sucked in cold salt-tinged air as she looked over her shoulder and across the open—empty— meadow. He and his cockatrice Friend Jet were safely ensconced in a Blue Order prison. Even if they managed to escape, Kellynch would not tolerate them anywhere near Lyme. With as many friends as Kellynch had made among the local minor dragons, and one other major dragon in the vicinity, Mr. Elliot could not possibly conceal himself anywhere near Lyme.

She smoothed the prickled hair on the back of her neck. An assault to one’s person was not easily dismissed, even when one had been rescued by the man she loved. Yes, that was the part of the story she should dwell upon.

“Kellynch, Kellynch?” she stepped into the dim stony lair, dank and smelling of dragon musk. How much warmer it seemed being out of the wind.

“Come in.” The space filled with the sound of scales scraping stone. “Have you brought their majesties, my wyrmlings?”

“Of course I have. They would not miss a chance to visit with you.” She set the basket on the floor. Corn, the black and white tatzelwurmling with white tufty ears and blue eyes, and Wall with the black nose and green eyes, tumbled onto the dusty limestone floor. They bounded down the tunnel, chirruping with glee as Kellynch’s long, toothy grey-green head came into view.

He rumbled something almost like a great purr that she felt in her chest more than heard. The wyrmlings pounced on him, licking his face and climbing onto the ridges above his eyes. Not the way one was supposed to greet their laird, but as long as they were all happy with it, what harm could it do?

Who would have ever thought Kellynch could be a happy, easy-going dragon?

“When will you allow them to visit me on their own? I do not get to see them often enough.” Kellynch muttered, slithering closer, careful not to dislodge Corn and Wall.

She crouched to scratch the itchy spot between his eyes, just able to make out his pout in the meager light. “They are still small enough to be carried away by the local predatory birds. When they are big enough to no longer be prey, then they can visit whenever you and they wish.”

“They could use the tunnels.”

“Not until I am certain they will not lose their way. They are still very silly little babies and have occasionally lost their way in the house.” She ruffled Corn’s ears. Wall nudged her hands with his nose and demanded the same.

Kellynch sighed and snorted.

“Besides, you visit with them in the cellar nearly every day. You cannot be that lonely.”

“It is not the same as having them in my lair with me. I have been alone so long—”

She sat tailor-style on the floor beside him, her hand on his scaly snout. “I know you have. In fact, that is what I need to talk to you about. Are you certain about us traveling to London, and you remaining here, alone?”

Kellynch grumbled, his lips working in little waves that rippled along his jaw. “Not really.”

Finally, he confessed to the obvious truth. “Then we will inform the Order that we will take the house with the lair with tunnel access to the Thames. That way you will be able to join us easily.”

One brow ridge rose. “Wentworth says the house is not as pleasant as the other you were considering.”

“It is a little enough thing to part with in the interest of your comfort.” She scratched the ridges along his snout as he snuffled appreciative sounds.

“Is it true that I might attend the Cotillion whilst in London? I have never been to the primary Blue Order office.”

“Indeed. The official invitation includes dragons with new Keepers. The three of us are expected to be presented at the Cotillion.”

Presented by the Dragon Sage. She swallowed hard. Was it a privilege or a punishment to have such a prestigious sponsor? Certainly, the expectations of society upon her would be higher because of it. Father would approve, if he were not banned from all Blue Order society events.

Was Lady Elizabeth trying to mitigate the repercussions of Father’s ignominy by her show of support? If only she and not Lady Matlock had written to her to tell her of it, it would be easier to judge what to make of it all.

If only father had seen fit to have her come out to the Order when she began to hear and allowed her to attend a Keepers’ Cotillion as a young woman. At least she would know firsthand what to expect now. If only he had not fallen from Blue Order society in disgrace, she would not be establishing herself while trying to overcome the huge hurdle he raised before her. Yet more ways in which she was still paying for Father’s failures.

Kellynch nudged her with his snout and trained a piercing look upon her. Could he tell what she was thinking or only how she felt about it? Who would have guessed he was such a perceptive creature?

“I should like to see such an event, if it would not be burdensome on you.” How polite he was trying to be even though his longing to attend shone clear. He would love the attention and notoriety it would bring him. So like a true Elliot he was.  

“I will consider it an honor for you to be there with us.”

Kellynch rumbled happily. Corn and Wall purred along with him, though they had little understanding of why. His pleasure was enough to make them happy.

“You will bring their majesties?” He crossed his eyes trying to focus on the wyrmlings perched on his nose.

“Of course, they cannot be left alone.”

“Good, good. I shall go out and have a good feed now so that I need not worry about fishing rights whilst I am there.”

How much had Kellynch changed since that day in court? He seemed like an utterly different dragon to the angry, hibernating, threatening sea serpent he had been.

“That seems a sound plan; I am sure Wentworth will agree. I will take their majesties back to the house now and get them ready for traveling in the morning.” She called Corn and Wall back to their basket. Though they lingered in their goodbyes to Kellynch, they did as they were bid. Someday, when they were grown, they would—hopefully—have the good sense of their sire, Laconia. But for now, they were silly, shatter-brained—if very dear — little creatures.

Despite the wind, she took the long way home. Kellynch-by-the-Sea was so different to Kellynch where she had grown up. How could she not miss the spreading old trees, the farmlands, the fields of sheep? The coast was not without its beauties—and it made Kellynch and Wentworth so very happy—but sometimes it still caught her off guard not to see her mother’s gardens, or Lady Russell’s.

A dozen, no there were more than that, small and moderate sized white rent cottages lined the main stony road from the manor to Lyme Regis. Several more were set back from the road with small lanes or footpaths leading to them. So many people looked to her as the mistress of Kellynch-by-the-Sea. It could be daunting some days, more so than at Kellynch where she was only standing in for the mistress of the manor.

The tenants on the whole were pleasant and good humored, many of them dragon Friends who were quite astonished that Kellynch enjoyed the company of the minor dragons on his estate.

Despite all the new friends, Kellynch did not neglect Uppercross. Dragon tunnels linked the two estates and they exchanged regular visits. Uppercross was developing a taste for fish which Sister Mary definitely did not approve of—it left his breath quite frightful!

According to Lady Elizabeth’s last letter, their whole relationship was very unusual among land dragons. But perhaps not so among marine creatures?  She still hoped to visit them soon and learn more about England’s only marine wyrm.

“Mrrrrow.”

When had Laconia come upon her?

He bumped up against her leg, all three stones worth of fluffy black tatzelwurm jolting her from her reverie. “Wentworth wonders where you have gotten to.”

“I told him I would be checking on Kellynch. Is he very worried?” She glanced past Laconia as a gust of chill air raced down the neat line of cottages.

“He is accustomed to having all his sailors at an easy distance.” Laconia glanced over his shoulder and backed up two steps, a very odd movement for a tatzelwurm.

“And I am out of range of his spy glass, I suppose?”

“Come back to the house with me.” An odd note of concern tinged his voice as he turned for the manor.

She followed. “Is there something wrong?”

“It is difficult to say. A cockatrice messenger from the Order arrived not very long ago.”

Merciful heavens!

Anne increased her pace to a near run; Laconia spring-hopped to keep up.

What message might the Blue Order have sent? Tell me in the comments.