Laurence felt rather he might blush for the lack of hospitality, that left them out in the cold with the great house standing there on the hill, so many windows staring out empty with no-one behind them. But he was evidently the only one so conscious: the other aviators walked up the hill with expressions of pleased surprise, to meet the baskets coming, full of cold meat and bread, fresh-boiled eggs, and many pots of hot tea. One servant did come down the hill with them, carrying an enormous steaming platter that smelled pungently of Oriental spices, and even before he had stepped into the firelight, and Laurence saw his face, Temeraire had already raised his head and said joyfully, “Gong Su, you are here.”
The cook came forward and bowed repeatedly, to Temeraire and then as afterthought to Laurence, beaming as he set the platter down to be attacked by the aviators. “I am glad to find you well; but how came you here?” Laurence asked.
“Lady Allendale’s generosity,” Gong Su said, and turned to Temeraire, explaining in Chinese that Lady Allendale had written the Corps, and obtained the names of all Laurence’s followers, to see them taken care of by one means or another; she had given Gong Su a place. “And he says that he will come with us again,” Temeraire added with satisfaction, to the end of this translation, “so we may have properly cooked food, and if we will stop eating the deer now, he will soon have them stewed for us, with some grain.” At this announcement, several of the dragons unenthusiastically drew their deer all the closer, and began to eat as quickly as they could.
A fuss was still being made, along the path; the maid now enjoying her hysterics sufficiently to resist being helped away by a couple of the footmen who would just as lief had been gone themselves. “That is quite enough, Martha; Peyle, take her back to the house and give her hartshorn,” Lady Allendale said, putting an end to the noise; she continued on towards them steadily, well-wrapped in furs and trailed unhappily by a footman with a lantern, who lagged as they came closer and closer the clearing.
Lady Allendale herself paused, near the edge; she had last seen Temeraire some ten weeks after his hatching, before he had reached his full growth or even sprouted his ruff. It had been rather a different experience to encounter one half-grown beast in broad daylight, than now a dozen of them, mostly heavy-weights and the alarming orange-eyed Longwings, all of them up to their jowls in blood and magnified by the flickering of the fire upon their scaled hides.
Laurence was already on his feet; the other officers hastily stood as she came in timidly to their circle. “I am very happy to see you again, my lady,” Temeraire said, adding in an undertone to Laurence, “that is correct, is it not?—and thank you for keeping Gong Su safe for me.”
“Quite correct,” Lady Allendale said, and coming forward with a struggling, unhappy smile gave Laurence her hands; he silently bent and kissed her offered cheek. It was paler than it had been, the skin a little dry and papery, and more lined; her hair was quite silver. She did not keep smiling long, but let it fade, and took his arm for a support she for once truly needed, to look around the camp. “I hope you are all comfortable; we should be happy to make up beds, inside, for you gentlemen—I am sure room can be found—”
No-one immediately answered her, and then Jane had to say, “We do very well here, ma’am, although I thank you for the hospitality; we sleep with our dragons, when we are on the march. Frette, can you manage a chair,” she added, and Lady Allendale looked at her, and at Laurence, with a bewildered expression.
There was no help for it, of course, and he said, “Mother, may I present Admiral Roland, of Excidium; Lady Allendale.”
Jane bowed, and offered a hand to shake; Lady Allendale had recovered herself enough to accept it with cordiality, and also the folding camp chair which Frette brought from out of Jane’s tent and set near the fire, with another for Jane herself. Captain St. Germain was walking up and down the camp, stretching her legs, and had not noticed the visitor yet. “Thankee, Frette, I had rather stand; we will be sitting all day tomorrow,” she said, when he offered her one; and then pulled up short seeing Lady Allendale. There was a little awkward silence. Lady Allendale gazed with fascination at Jane, and at St. Germain, and around all the camp, with more attention than she had paid before to the other aviators. She was no fool; Laurence saw her marking out, quickly, the handful of other female officers: another on Jane’s crew, a lieutenant on Berkley’s, and a few midshipmen and ensigns, scattered about.
No-one offered any explanation, and of course she did not ask, but only said to Jane, “You are bound for Scotland, then,” politely.
“Aye, ma’am,” Jane said, “I hope we do not put you out,” an admirable beginning to a brief exchange of wine and small conversation, which might be quickly brought to a close with no rudeness on either side.
But Temeraire was now unoccupied, waiting for his dinner to be cooked, and he put in, anxiously, “Perhaps you had better come with us, and not stay here; I have just thought of it. Perhaps Napoleon may come here, before we have had a chance to beat him properly.”
“You cannot be carrying about civilians where you like,” Jane said to him, repressively. “A nice job we would do of keeping anyone safe, when it is our duty to go look him out. He may come marching through here by bad luck, or not; but we are sure to meet him sooner or late.”
“Yes, but when we meet him, we can fight him,” Temeraire said, “and be sure of keeping our friends safe.”
“I am very grateful for the concern,” Lady Allendale said gently, “but we will not go, I think; it would be quite unforgivable to leave our servants and the tenants alone to manage, in such circumstances: that is our duty.”
But this quite changed the conversation; she then inquired of Jane, whether her own family was somewhere safe. “I haven’t any to worry for, but my Emily, and of course I am lucky enough to have her in eye-shot, at present,” Jane said, nodding at where Emily was helping to put up the camp, and naturally then Emily had come over to be introduced, and having made her bow added earnestly, “And thank you very much, my lady, for the present; I am much obliged to you.”
Laurence knew his mother well enough to see, as most strangers would not have, that she was puzzled; and then understanding dawned. “Do you like the garnets, then?” she said, and leaned forward to look searchingly into Emily’s face, with a very different sort of interest; while Laurence felt his heart sink.
In London, the past year, his father had drawn entirely the wrong conclusion, from Emily’s presence among Temeraire’s crew and Laurence’s evident responsibilities towards her; and he had passed that conclusion along to Lady Allendale in terms not sufficiently guarded as to prevent her becoming very interested in Emily’s welfare.
“Oh, yes,” Emily said, “and I have been able to wear them, twice, to the theater in Dover.”
“Are you, are you in service, then?” Lady Allendale asked, willing to be inquisitor of a young girl, and where she felt she had a right, as she had not been of Jane herself. Emily unconcernedly nodded, unaware of any undercurrent, and said, proudly, “I am lately made ensign, my lady.”
“There, enough puffery; Dorset is looking for you,” Jane said, more discreet, and Emily bobbed once more and dashed away.
Lady Allendale watched her run back to her duties. The surgeon was working over the dragons: Temeraire was not the only one of the unharnessed beasts who had been carrying a musket-ball too long, and several of them were having to be treated in similar wise. Fortunately, he was downwind at present, and working on Ballista’s far side, so the gruesome operation was not in open view. Emily vanished around her flank, and Lady Allendale turned back and ventured, “She is very young,” to Jane, with not a little anxiety.