Bonus Scene: Kindred Spirits

To be entirely honest, I’m not sure what is going to become of this scene.

It could just be feeling out the world, it might be in the next book, or in a different one all together. In any case, I thought I’d share it with you!

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Thin clouds darted across the pale blue sky, carried on a chill breeze that stung Elizabeth’s cheeks. She adjusted the folds of her forest green wool cloak and smoothed the hood resting across her shoulders as she strode the last few yards to her destination. The weight of the additional horsehair and boning that stiffened it for her peculiar uses soothed her tense shoulders.

Such a ridiculous sentiment! She was the Dragon Sage, an officer of the Blue Order, Keeper to firedrake—albeit a baby— Pemberley. It was only an invitation for tea, not a summons to appear before the dragon conclave.

All told, the court summons would have been easier—actually it had been easier. How many women could have said that? She had nothing to fear.

Dragons she understood. She liked them and they her. They were simple. But the ton, the ladies of the ton—the back of her neck twitched. Dragons were far better company.

She approached Asclepius House, the Dressler’s town home, a first-rate house wedged in among perhaps a dozen on the street. Its chipped, black door held a somewhat tarnished brass drake’s head knocker, similar to the one on the front door of the London Blue Order offices.

Best not linger at these things, it only made them worse. She rapped the knocker.

“Lady Elizabeth?” An imposing butler in a fine black suit ushered her in. Was every London butler hired to be imposing?

Perhaps that was not fair, outside of his basso profundo voice, he really was not so very overbearing when one noticed the tuft of golden tatzelwurm fur on his shoulder.

Should that give her such relief?

But why not—knowing house dragons were present, and welcome—no one tolerated tatzelwurm fur on the staff if they did not have some affection for the creatures themselves—spoke well of the home.

The front hall was refreshingly devoid of the typical draconic décor the Blue Order tended to favor. Possibly another good sign.

“Lady Elizabeth Darcy.” The butler announced her into the back parlor.

Somehow the room managed to be spacious and intimate at the same time. With friendly green walls lined with watercolors—dragons! Every one of them a spectacular dragon—it was hard not to be drawn into the space amidst comfortable looking furniture and just the right amount of birc-a-brac. Cool sunlight through two large windows that faced the mews. Long brocade curtains flowed beside the windows, puddling on the carpet below.

To the right of the windows, a woman, about Mama’s age, sat on a large drab velvet fainting couch in front of a large watercolor of a pa snake.

Castordale. That had to be Castordale. The artist had perfectly captured his astonishing color. And the expression, a mix of thoughtful concern and mischief, so accurate to him!

“You look as though you have a question, Lady Elizabeth.” Lady Dressler stood.

“Pray, forgive me. I am staring.” She tried to pull her gaze away from the painting.

“I am not unaccustomed to that. You wonder where I am from?”

Elizabeth blinked several times as she shifted focus from the painting to the woman. “No, I am sorry, that had not crossed my mind. I was wondering if you might have been to one to paint that astonishing portrait of Castordale.”

Lady Dressler’s jaw dropped and she stared in that perplexed fashion that people often adopted when something unexpected fell from Elizabeth’s lips. Not an unusual happening, all told.

What a striking woman! Her cheekbones might have been chiseled by a master from the finest marble. The showcased her huge, startlingly green eyes, dark hair, and flawless rich umber skin. Trim and poised like Aunt Gardiner, she carried herself nothing like the she-dragons of the Cotillion Board. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I did paint him and the other dragons in the room.”

“I have never seen a truer rendition of Castordale, or any other snake-type. Artists rarely portray them as anything but menacing. Please, would you show me the rest of your work? How did you manage to depict his color so perfectly?”

Lady Dressler paused and blinked again as though uncertain of what she had just heard. “Of course, I would be happy to have you examine my humble efforts.”

“I know humility is an expected trait in a lady, but surely you must be aware of the excellency of your work.” Elizabeth followed Lady Dressler to watercolor hanging next to the fainting couch.

Her face brightened just a bit. “I have been studying under Rudolph Ackermann for some years. He is an excellent teacher.”

“Rudolph Ackermann? He is a member of the Order?”

“Indeed, he is, though he does not have a Dragon Friend, he has quite the talent for illustrating them and is amused to have finally had a student to whom he could teach some of the peculiar techniques he developed for them. He provided me with the exact shade of blue to depict Castordale after having begged an interview with him for that exact purpose.”

“I had no idea, though I can only imagine Castordale quite enjoyed the entire affair!” Elizabeth chuckled. What a picture—Castordale sitting for the artist! “Have you any idea if Mr. Ackermann might be commissioned? There are several monographs I am working on that would benefit by illustration.”

“I know few artists who would turn down such a commission. I would be happy to make an introduction for you.”

“That is most obliging of you. Forgive me for being so distracted. I am sure I must seem very rude not to even inquire of your health and that of your family.”

Lady Dressler laughed, a musical bell-like sound. “You are exactly as I was told to expect.” She gestured to the next painting.

Elizabeth winced. Probably should have tried to control that better. “I can only imagine what you were told.”

“You are no fool. I am certain you know the sort of things that are said in, what is anticipated to be, sympathetic company.” Lady Dressler crouched and beckoned toward the far side of the room. A golden tatzelwurm slithered out from behind the floor-length brocade curtains.

What a striking creature, as striking as her Friend. Her fur, which she had already seen on the butler’s coat, was a tawny gold, shimmering in the beams of sunlight, long and whispy, growing darker as it approached her bronze serpentine tail. Was that—yes, she had a tuft of fur at the end of her tail. How utterly unique! Her face had a leonine quality to it, magnified by the furry ruff that surrounded it and fangs far more pronounced that they typical tatzelwurms. At least as large as Laconia, her thumbed paws were particularly broad and her claws, more like talons, presented on full display against the rich floral carpet. Splendid, absolutely splendid.

“Forgive me, for I am sure I am performing just as you were warned I would.” Elizabeth glanced from the tatzelwurm to Lady Dressler and back again. “Might I be introduced to your Friend, and I must know where she, and now I presume you, are from.”

The tatzelwurm step-slithered closer as Lady Dressler laughed again. But somehow, it was not the sound of being laughed at, but of being companionable. “Lady Elizabeth, may I present my lifelong Friend, Kundam.”

Lady Elizabeth crouched and extended her hand, fingers curled toward herself. “I am honored to make your acquaintance, Kundam.”

Kundam sniffed carefully before chirruping and rubbing her head along the back of Elizabeth’s hand. “You smell like dragons.”

“There are quite a number in our household. I should be surprised if I did not. What does your name mean?”

Lady Dressler scratched behind Kundam’s large tufted ears. “It means female cat. It was not really a name a first, just was she was called by the servants.”

“It seemed a useful enough moniker, so I agreed to keep it when she became my Friend.” Kundam wove around Lady Dressler’s ankles.

“Would you honor me with that story? I am always fascinated by how such Friendships form.” Elizabeth stood and followed Lady Dressler to a pair of chairs near the window.

Lady Dressler sat down and welcomed Kundam to her lap. “Would it surprise you to know that only my husband has ever asked to know that story?”

“Not at all. Few have ever been interested in my Friendship with April.”

“Neither fairy dragon nor tatzelwurm are worth that much interest, are they? It is a shame as they are entirely worthy companions.”

“If you have not already heard, I shall tell you of April’s role in my recent rescue.”

“Every little dragon in London knows by now.” The fluffy tip of Kundam’s tail flicked in a satisfied sort of way as she purred loud and full as only a tatzelwurm did.

“Indeed, they do.” Lady Dressler stroked Kundam’s golden fur. “When I was but a little girl —do you know the geography of India by chance?”

“I am embarrassed to say I do not.”

“Then suffice to say, when I was but a small girl in India, Kandam began catching mice and rats around the kitchen of our home. My father worked for the East India Company and my mother was the only daughter of a high status family—those details are not important now. She died in childbirth when I was perhaps six years old. My father sent me to England in the care of another family, to be delivered to his mother to be raised here.”

“I thought it cruel to send her away to a strange land with no one and nothing familiar.” Kandam peered up into Lady Dressler’s face. “So, I came with her.”

Elizabeth gasped. “Such an extraordinary Friend!”

“Fortunately, my grandparents were Order members are recognized my Friend’s true nature before I came into my hearing. They even made certain that Kundam was welcome at the Blue Order seminary for girls where I studied for a number of years.”

“They sound like excellent people. I am glad.”

“They were. When my father died, leaving me his fortune, them made certain it was well-known that I was an heiress.”

“I imagine that made you more acceptable to those who might otherwise not have been so accepting.” Elizabeth forced back the lump in her throat.

Lady Dressler’s swallowed visibly. Being understood by a relative stranger did that to people. “They arranged for my presentation to the Order. That was where Kundam met Castordale and they conspired for my husband and I to marry.”

“Are you saying that I was wrong?” Kundam bumped Lady Dressler’s hand hard with the top of her head.

“Not at all, only that both of you were entirely determined that we should wed, despite the fact I had no desire to play nursemaid to his many patients, human and draconic. I think it disappointed him a little that I was not formed for the sickroom, but he did not insist. And since in everyone other way he was an excellent match, our courtship was successful. Later, when our daughter was young, we hired a art master and I learned from him as much as she did. Sir Edward thought very highly of my drawings and encouraged me, finally arranging lessons from Mr. Ackermann for me. Now, I render illustrations for his writings—”

Elizabeth sat up very straight. “You do? Perhaps you … I know I am presuming and very forward … but your rendering of Castordale and these others … might you …”

“Surely you would rather a known artist like Mr. Ackermann—”

“Someone without a Dragon Friend? No, clearly you are far more qualified as you have an understanding that he can never have. You are exactly the sort of person I would most like to work with.”

“I told you she would see, would understand. And she is right. You should do it.” Kundam purred loudly.

“Then I suppose … I should be honored to work with you, Lady Elizabeth.”

What do you think? Tell me in the comments!