Epilogue
A year later.
Lizzie held her sleeping baby in her arms under the dappled shade at the edge of the Priory lawn. Flowerbeds strewn over the green grass were alive with humming insects. Saint Sirin sat on the chair beside her, swishing a fern frond with a languid hand to keep the curious bees away.
“Will they ever notice him?” she whispered. It was all she could do not to laugh at Angel standing still, covered with tufts of green paper scales, in the middle of a circular flowerbed. A slight breeze from the river ruffled the flowers and the peacock feathers decorating his helmet.
The duke called out, “You are very, very close.”
Two little girls clutched their wooden swords and looked around, holding onto Dace by a leather strap around each of his wrists.
Dace gave a frightened whinny and pranced over the lawn “I smell dragon! Nearby! Oh help, Saint George! Save me from the dragon! He’ll eat me! Help!”
Angel stood like a statue amid the flowers, not even blinking.
The little girls shrieked and looked around. They allowed Dace to pull free from his reins and watched him run around the flowerbed. Suddenly, the dragon sprang to life with a roar. He lunged out at Dace and flung him onto his back.
With savage roars of triumph and one scaly foot on Dace’s chest, the dragon called, “I have killed Saint George and now I shall eat him!”
Dace raised his head. “Sorry to point this out, Angel, you have only got Saint George’s horse. Beware! Saint Georges, both of you, attack him to save me!”
The two little girls raised their swords and ran towards the dragon. Angel took one look and fled, scattering paper scales and most of his tail.
Lizzie laughed as he flew past her. “It wouldn’t be half as funny if we didn’t know he really is afraid of them.”
“He adores them from a distance,” said the duke. “He even likes being chased. Angel simply has an aversion to getting caught and dying.” Even Sirrie couldn’t keep his dignity when the two girls ran after Angel, with panting breath and tin whistle screams of excitement, stopping only for a moment to collect his tail for a trophy.
She laughed with the duke until Dace came over to join them.
Sirrie gave up his chair and strolled off to rescue the dragon from the miniature Saint Georges.
Lizzie raised her face for Dace’s kiss. “He’s sleeping.”
“Not even roaring dragons disturb our son.” Dace stroked the soft cheek. “Edward Dominic James Felmont, you are braver than your namesake. You must take after your mother.”
“He takes after his father. Handsome and brave.” And warm, and loving, and true.
Dace raised an eyebrow and drawled, “Even with the Felmont nose?”
“There is nothing wrong with Edward’s nose.”
“Not yet,” warned Dace.
“Silly man! I adore the family nose.” She kissed Dace on the nose to make him laugh. “Edward will grow up to be as handsome as you are!”
The End
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Other books by Maggie Jagger
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