Pemberley: Mr. Darcy's Dragon (Jane Austen's Dragons, #1)

by Maria Grace

Samuel scurried up beside him, blinking up at Elizabeth, “Pwease, Lizzy, pwease.”

Strange lisp has no continuity. He says the L in please with a W sound, but then says Lizzy instead of Wizzy.

“Yes, dwagons!” Samuel bounced in her arms.

Rs too?

“Is there a dwagon in the rwoom now?” Samuel cast about the nursery, breathing hard.

Rwoom? See inconsistent lisp.

tatzelwurms

Strange creature.

Jane’s smile was wan and thin, her eyes bright. “And in return, I will hope for the best from Mr. Bingley, that your secret hopes—and now my own—might be fulfilled.”

When visualising these characters, I'm opting for the BBC miniseries over the theatrical release. Colin Firth and Jennifer Ehle, as Darcy and Elizabeth. However I've got Donald Sutherland as Mr Bennet. I think I'd prefer to take my favourites from either, but largely because I cannot stand Keira Knightley.

Never in all her days of knowing dragons had she been afraid of one. Even Bedford, the ancient firedrake, had proven to have a sweet disposition after she had discovered his broken tooth. Once she was able to pull it and relieve the pain in his mouth, they were fast friends.

Longbourn's fury, was clearly from his own terror of possibly losing Elizabeth.

At first blush, Aunt Phillips found the comparison less than gratifying and did little to conceal her offense. When he went on to explain what Rosings was, who was its proprietor, the splendor of its drawing-rooms, and that the chimney-piece alone had cost eight hundred pounds, her ire dissipated.

Materialistic Vicar. A complete oxymoron.

Her parents, Mr. Collins, and her sisters were already assembled in a domestic scene fraught with the kind of energy only a ball could occasion.

One thing that doesn't make sense, Mr. Collins' name. It should be Bennet. Any other name suggests he is not the true heir to Longbourn Estate. Travelling down a different branch of the family tree to find a male heir, that male would have the same surname. If none are found then it would revert back to the Crown.

Belly distended, Pemberley’s eyelids drooped. She crawled back toward the sandy-leafy nest and nudged her head under Elizabeth’s arm. Rumblkins scooted to make room for her on Elizabeth’s lap. A moment later, all three were asleep. Longbourn lay down beside them, head on his paws, and closed his eyes as well. Darcy sat back on his heels and stared. What a peculiar tableau. Though beyond disheveled, Miss Elizabeth had never been more attractive, surrounded by the creatures that adored her.

This is difficult to picture in my mind, especially considering Longbourn's a Wyvern with only two wings for arms and two legs. Unlike the Dragon having four legs and two wings. So him, putting his head on his paws, would mean his back would be very tightly curled in order for him to rest his head on his paws. I'm guessing the author is wanting us to imagine the way a dog would look in this position, but forgot the Wyverns body can't really pull this off without looking ridiculously uncomfortable. To Darcy right now, Elizabeth would seem like a real life Cinderella or Snow White with all the woodland creatures whom adore her.