Scales and Sensibility by Stephanie Burgis

Chapter 34

Three footmen marched Miss Armitage away, while another four were ordered to apprehend her ‘brother.’ Still, once they had left, Sir John sagged into a chair as if he were the one who had lost after all.

“I would have betrothed my own daughter to that rascal,” he said heavily. “Good God. If that came out…if anyone knew how close we had come to catastrophe…”

“It’s a good thing that Elinor saved you, then” said Benedict. He crossed his arms. “Now tell me, Sir John: how exactly do you plan to show your niece your gratitude?”

Penelope leaped up from her own chair, her face infused with sudden panic. “Papa, you cannot send Mama away. Not anymore! If Mr. Hawkins is betrothed, and Mr. Armitage is married—”

“That’s right,” Elinor said. “There is no one left for you to engage yourself to before your London season.”

Penelope worried at her lower lip. “Perhaps that Mr. Aubrey…?”

Elinor rolled her eyes, but Benedict was the one who answered. “You are not tricking Aubrey into a betrothal. I won’t allow it.”

“Everyone is against me. No one cares how I feel!” Penelope’s lower lip wobbled. “Papa, please…”

He sighed and turned to meet his wife’s eyes. “Will you swear to behave yourself and hold your tongue from now on?”

“No,” said Lady Hathergill tartly, “I shall not. I’ve held my tongue for the past twenty years, and it’s nearly suffocated me. I won’t do it for even one more day!”

“You won’t need to,” said Mrs. De Lacey. “You can come and stay with me in London, join my new club for ladies, and flaunt all of your adventures in your husband’s face. We may not have quite the relationship we once did, but I think it has finally been enough years for both of us to forgive that old break and form a new kind of friendship. I do like people who speak their minds. I like it even more when I can mend fences and irritate a man I’ve always loathed.”

She smiled sharply at Sir John. “You won’t spread any more rumours about your wife’s sanity, now, will you? I can promise that neither you nor your daughter would care for the results.”

“No,” Sir John muttered. “No. But…” Breathing heavily, he swung on Elinor. “But as for you, young lady, you will hand back my daughter’s dragon immediately!”

Elinor flung a protective hand across Sir Jessamyn, but Penelope was the one who let out a gasp of protest. “Oh, no! I’m not letting that horrible creature anywhere near me!”

Sir Jessamyn hunched onto Elinor’s shoulder, glaring at his former mistress. Penelope’s finger shook as she pointed at him.

“Didn’t you see what he did? Shooting flame all over Elinor’s face? Tricking us all? He’s a monster!” She shuddered. “I wouldn’t trust him for an instant. I’m not allowing any dragons onto my shoulder ever again.”

Elinor opened her mouth, a hot retort burning on her tongue—but Benedict shook his head at her. Careful, he mouthed.

She took a steadying breath. Benedict was right. The last thing she needed was to persuade Penelope not to fear Sir Jessamyn after all.

But she looked at the little dragon on her shoulder, who had sat there proudly and without fear through all the shouting and commotion of the past hour, and she let all of her love and admiration shine in her expression.

He nuzzled her face. She stroked his neck, admiring the brand-new golden markings that had spread along his left side, completing the pattern.

His magic had led them to triumph, and they both knew it.

“Fine,” Sir John said heavily. “Fine. You may all leave, and the devil take every one of you! But what am I to do about that couple of serpents who are locked away upstairs? If I have them arrested and they go to trial, they’ll embarrass the whole family with their revelations. But I can’t just let them go merrily on their way after what they’ve done.”

“But you have to arrest them,” Benedict said. “They are criminals. What they did to my family—and to Elinor’s—”

“I,” said Sir John, drawing himself up, “am still the magistrate in this county. I make those decisions, not you, young man. And I can still decide to arrest your fiancée for theft if I so choose! Don’t make me regret my generosity.”

Benedict pressed his lips tightly shut, but Elinor saw the struggle still working on his face. She shared it.

To let them go free, after all that they had done…

She thought of her sisters, scattered across Britain. Of Benedict’s own family, about to lose their estate.

Their estate…

“Don’t,” she said. Her voice sounded half-strangled, and wholly unlike herself. She had to clear her throat to speak. “Don’t let them go on their way as they please. They wanted to flee the country with a fortune blackmailed from you and with the deed to their estate, too, so that they could sell it. Don’t let them.”

Sir John glowered at her. “I just told Hawkins—”

“What perfect justice.” A smile hovered at the edges of Mrs. De Lacey’s mouth. “I believe I approve of you, young Elinor. It’s no wonder you managed to pass yourself off as me for so long. You have a sense of style.”

“Elinor?” Penelope snorted. “What style?”

“A flair for justice,” said Mrs. De Lacey. “That is what you intend, isn’t it, Elinor? They meant to sell their estate once they were safely distant from England. But the estate wasn’t bought with their money. It was bought with yours.”

“And Benedict’s,” Elinor said. “If Mr. Armitage signs the deed over to him, in exchange for his freedom…”

“…Then I can sell it to save my own estate—the one he ruined.” There was colour in Benedict’s cheeks again and a half-wild look in his eyes. “My brothers…my niece…but even more than that. Everyone’s been talking about how grand his estate is. It must be worth ten times more than Kennington Park! That means we’ll have plenty of money left over to share with the other families they hurt.”

Elinor nodded. “We’ll track down all of the others that he and his wife tricked. We can help to save them, too.”

“You won’t make all the money back,” Mrs. De Lacey warned them. “The amount that he and his wife must have spent on their clothes alone during this past Season, not to mention all those theater tickets, champagne soirées and so on…”

“But we can do something,” Elinor said, and swallowed hard. She was trying to rein in the tears of mingled relief and wonder that wanted to escape before them all. She had to remember her common sense and not allow exhilaration to carry her away too soon.

It would take time to sell the Armitages’ estate—weeks, if not months. By the time all of the legal and financial wrangles were sorted, it might be autumn or even winter.

But she would see her sisters again, after all. Once everything was cleared, she could offer them a home to share. And for the first time in a year, she, Elinor Tregarth, was no longer helpless. She could be a true force for good, as her own mother had been.

Sir John scowled. “I don’t know…”

“Do you not?” said Mrs. De Lacey. She raised her eyebrows. “The other option, of course, is that I could begin to catch up on my correspondence. I’m sure that everyone I know in London would be most interested to learn what happened here, tonight, in every—single—detail.”

Penelope had already moved on. “But if Mama is going to live with you, Mrs. De Lacey…” She frowned. “…Then she will be more fashionable than me, won’t she? That doesn’t make any sense!”

Lady Hathergill sighed and looked at her daughter with a decidedly jaundiced eye. “In that case,” she said, “you will have to think very hard about becoming a respectful daughter from now on, won’t you? Perhaps there is hope for you yet.”

Penelope looked horrified.

Sally bobbed a curtsey and backed away from the family group, leaving her sheaf of papers on the long dining room table. Among them, Elinor recognized a familiar package of letters, wrapped together in ribbon. She didn’t have to look any closer to recognize her sisters’ handwriting.

She caught Sally’s eye. Sally closed one eye in a wink.

We’re even, she mouthed, and left through the servants’ door.

* * *

Two hours later,Elinor left Hathergill Hall for good...for the second time that week. This time, she walked out through the front door rather than skulking out a back entrance. Benedict walked on one side and Mr. Aubrey on the other. Sir Jessamyn sat tall and proud upon her shoulder, glancing about at the remaining guests with regal condescension. His gold markings glittered magnificently about his mouth and chin in the candlelight.

Mrs. De Lacey and Lady Hathergill would be staying the night, but Elinor couldn’t wait any longer to escape—and as neither she nor Benedict was willing to wait long for their wedding to take place, there was little left to fear about the impropriety of it.

“Back to the inn again, I’m afraid,” Benedict said cheerfully, as he helped her into Aubrey’s carriage. It was already stacked with books and papers, which had taken nearly an hour to pack. “I do hope they have the same private dining room available. I have good memories of that room.”

Aubrey was still glowering even as a footman closed the door, stuffing the last few papers into the footwell. As the coachman cracked his whip and the horses set off into the moonlight, he said, “I cannot believe that you wasted your last wish! Of all the worst nonsense in fairy tales, to spend your last wish un-wishing the first two…”

“How would you have spent it?” asked Elinor, with genuine curiosity.

“Yes, do tell us, Aubrey.” Beside her, Benedict stretched out his legs. They pressed companionably against Elinor’s, sending tingles of warm promise up her skin. She could only just glimpse his smile in the shadows of the carriage. “You’ve obviously spent a deal of time thinking through these matters, for someone who claims to hate fairy tales so much.”

“I despise them,” said Aubrey coldly, “and I always have. But if I ever had the chance myself…”

“Oh, you must.” Elinor leaned forward. “You’ve spent so many years studying dragons, Mr. Aubrey. Why shouldn’t you have one of your own as a companion?”

“An excellent point,” Benedict agreed. “Come, Aubrey, you know now how misguided your theoretical research has been. Why not get a dragon of your own and find out the real truth? Or are you too afraid of getting mixed up in irrational magic yourself?”

“I am not afraid of anything,” Mr. Aubrey said with dignity. “But you know I must go to Wales first. I am already a full week overdue. And fortunately, it is quite clear that the irrational, magical sort of dragon isnotcommon.”

“Not common at all.” Elinor ran an admiring hand along Sir Jessamyn’s back, and he stretched luxuriantly in her lap, letting out a noisy belch. He had eaten so many canapés in the past hour, as they had waited to leave, that it was a wonder he could even move at all. “Greedy pig,” she said fondly. Then she leaned closer and whispered into one pointed ear, “My hero.”

“Dragons certainly are more interesting than I’d ever realized before this week,” said Benedict. “But you know, Aubrey, they’re not the only kind of magic in the world. You might want to make an attempt, after all, at getting yourself some of the other sort, too.”

Elinor looked up, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Grinning, Benedict leaned closer, running one finger across the back of her hand.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Hawkins,” Mr. Aubrey moaned. “If you’re going to get all lovey-dovey just because you’ve finally found a girl to marry, I’m not even going to talk to you any longer. I’ll read a book instead.”

An irrepressible giggle built up in the back of Elinor’s throat as she peered through the shadows between her fiancé and the friend who sat across from them. “It is rather dark,” she pointed out meekly. “It may be difficult to read.”

“All the same,” said Mr. Aubrey, “it’s far better than listening to him babble. That’s the danger of romantic love, you see. It completely ruins a good man’s intellect.”

He picked up a book and held it pointedly in front of his face, where it remained as a shield for the rest of their journey.

So Elinor spent the rest of the carriage ride dreaming with Benedict about their future, hands interlaced, while her dragon snored in her lap across the miles with perfectly undignified satisfaction.