Page 45 of The Teacup Dragon Sanctuary

His shoulders tensed and she sensed him taking another calming breath and letting it out in a long rush. ‘I don’t think we have anything to talk about. I have dragons to attend to and your family will worry if you stay out here alone so late. Please, Lady Portia⁠—’

‘Stop that,’ she snapped.

‘Or what? It’s your title.’ He laughed and it wasn’t the joyous noise she loved. It was bitter and sad. ‘You have a title. And I don’t. Leave it. Please. Our lives are very different and we both have our own plans. Maybe we should focus on them. I’ll be leaving the island as soon as possible anyway.’

She pushed past the infuriating man, fuming with him and herself, and stalked back up the hill as fast as she could. When she got back to her room, Jade was waiting for her, swooping down from rafters to scold her for leaving. Portia threw herself on the bed and lay there, staring at the ceiling through her tears.

* * *

Portia spent most of the next few days documenting everything, and checking every aspect of the remarkable recovery of all of the teacup dragons. But her triumph was dampened by the knowledge that Noah was avoiding her now. Just as she was avoiding him, if she was honest. Sleeping with him had been a mistake of monumental proportions so when the memories kept surging up in her mind, or haunting her dreams, it really didn’t help. She wrote to Milo and awaited his replies eagerly, walking down to the post office rather than waiting for Harry to trail up every day. His next letter was all excitement as he expected to begin his own experiments at once.

She walked back up, reading his enthusiastic scrawl with delight, so engrossed in it that she walked straight into August at the door.

‘Where have you been? It’s Iris. She wants you. Come quickly.’

What was wrong with Iris? The surge of panic almost knocked the breath from her.

The letter forgotten, Portia followed him up the stairs at a run, to the snuggery where she found her great-aunt with her flight of dragons all around her, her eyes shining and a smile of delight spread over her elderly face.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

From August’s expression, she’d thought Iris had been taken ill but she looked better than ever.

‘Nothing is wrong, my dear.’ Iris beamed at her. ‘Quite the contrary. Look, the acceptance came. I’m entering our dragons in the Royal Show in Tesh, just like I planned. It will help us fundraise and promote the sanctuary. Isn’t it wonderful?’

It was a cream card with elaborate gold decorations all around the edge and sweeping calligraphy dominating the centre.

Portia stared at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. She’d thought Iris had forgotten all about that. She should have known better. Iris didn’t forget anything. ‘Why?’

Iris paused, admiring Ripple and making some notes in her little pocket book. ‘Why? I told you when you first came home. Because we need the money, my love. And imagine the publicity if we won. The world will see that the rescue dragon is a vastly superior beast, that when cared for with love and understanding, the teacup dragon flourishes. Look at what wonderful work you’ve done here, you and Noah. Noah, where are you?’

He was leaning against the ancient bookcases on the far side of the snuggery, looking distinctly uncomfortable and avoiding looking directly at Portia.

Why was he still here? Hadn’t he more or less announced that he was leaving soon? Had he just not told Iris yet? It was going to break her heart.

Just like it broke yours, came the treacherous whisper in the back of her mind.

She bit her lower lip uneasily. And tried to drive away the memory of him doing the same thing when he was unsure.

‘Iris, have you been sampling the elixir?’

‘So, what if I have. You did.’

Yes, and it had made her almost as giddy as this. Her aunt, admittedly, looked in far better health than she had in years, certainly better than when Portia had returned to the island. A universal restorative indeed. Part of her made a mental note to tell Milo to expand the pool of test subjects. The rest of her told it to shut up and help her to get out of this nightmare as fast as possible.

‘I’m not sure that the Royal Show is a good idea. They don’t like us, Iris. The people who run it aren’t⁠—’

‘Lady Moorland, you mean?’ Iris laughed. ‘Don’t mind her. I wrote directly to the queen. She’s delighted with the idea. Her mother and I were such good friends. I told her all about your work and the outcome here. She wants to see it in action. She might even come to visit afterwards. She’d very fond of her own dragons, you know, and she frets about them. She wrote to me to ask my advice when that charlatan Percival Harvey was recommending all kinds of dubious practices. I told her not to listen to a word he said.’

Of course she did. And then Iris had probably written back to tell her all about the elixir and the work Portia had been doing and… oh Wenn beneath the waves, she knew how this story went.

Portia found her breath trapped in her chest. ‘And Lady Moorland agreed?’

‘Ha!’ said Iris, making more notes before letting a little blue lakeland fly free again. ‘I bet she’s furious. But the queen has spoken and it is a Royal Show after all. Who cares about Virginia Moorland? You must take Jade. She’s the most beautiful little thing. What have you done with her?’

Jade chose that moment to give a trill to identify herself. She soared down from the top of the snuggery, whirled around Portia on her iridescent wings, but alighted on Noah’s shoulder, nuzzling him affectionately.

Traitor.