Chapter 5
That brief moment of insanity extinguished all of my bravery, so I hurried into the house without waiting to see his reaction. I closed the heavy wooden door behind me and leaned up against it, the butterflies in my stomach dancing at double-time.
“Anne, is that you?” Mamá called from the sitting room.
I sighed and pushed away from the door, bracing myself. “Yes, I’m back!” I called, grateful that my voice came out normal-sounding.
As I walked down the hall, the heady scent of wood polish and pine weighed me down. I stopped midstride as it dawned on me that my senses were still open from my time with Ernesto. The whole evening I’d left my power unchecked and it hadn’t bothered me at all.
I quickly closed myself off from my enhanced senses, though my head hadn’t started to ache yet, and hurried into the sitting room.
Mamá sat in her chair, a wool shawl wrapped around her shoulders the only concession she made toward her comfort. Even in her own home, at 9:00 at night, she was crisply dressed and weighed down my heavy jewelry.
She pursed her lips. “I did a bit of digging into that young man while you were gone. Did you know he is the lead singer of a popular band?”
I opened my mouth to answer in the affirmative, but she was off again before I had the chance.
“What was Fred Brown thinking, asking such a chaotic person to be a soloist?”
“He’s got an incredible voice, Mamá, I’m sure he’ll do a great job.”
She sniffed. “Well, it’s a moot point. If the police don’t catch the killer, there won’t be a performance, anyway.”
I straightened my back. “I’m sure they will. In the meantime, I intend to do my best to prepare for this performance.”
“The orchestra is important to you, I understand that, but don’t let it eclipse your other responsibilities. Being in line for the crown is no small responsibility.”
I tried not to cringe as I did every time she brought up my place in the succession.
Mamá’s late sister had been the Fae Queen, and since she and her husband died in a car crash, my cousin Darcy was next in line for the crown.
For reasons I didn’t fully understand, he hadn’t taken the throne yet, letting my uncle reign as regent in his stead.
“I know, Mamá, I said quietly.
I trudged upstairs, feeling like a scolded schoolgirl.
I’d been preparing for this performance for months and looking forward to it for far longer than that.
Even before I’d known I’d be singing with Ernesto, I’d wanted this concert to go forward.
But now? I wouldn’t miss this opportunity for anything in the world.
And we only had nine more days to catch the killer, or I’d lose my chance.
I closed my bedroom door behind me and went to my dresser where I kept a Grey Doors poster in the top drawer. I carefully pulled it out and studied Ernesto’s face. No, not Ernesto. Neto.
I brushed my thumb across my lips. I’d kissed him. Somehow I’d been brave enough to kiss him. If I hadn’t run inside so quickly, would he have kissed me back?
A notification lit up on my phone. It was from Neto.
Hey
My heart thundered, and the heaviness weighing me down after the talk with my mother seemed to disappear.
Hey
I had a great time tonight.
I pressed my phone to my chest and sighed contentedly, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.
Me too.
Should I say something about the kiss? Apologize or explain it or something? No, that would be too much. People kissed under the mistletoe all the time. It probably meant nothing to him.
But I would never forget it for as long as I lived.
I considered taking a bath to help wind down before bed, but an excited energy still coursed through my body. A walk around the grounds would help me to calm down and think through everything. It always did.
I pulled on a hoodie and a pair of tennis shoes and crept out the door.
I didn’t want to invite any more questions from Mamá,.
The hall was dark except for the mood lighting low on the ground, and I eased the door shut behind me, grateful that the caretakers at Rosings Park kept the hinges well-greased.
The cold of the night embraced me as I stepped out into the darkness, my boots crunching through the snow covering a cobblestone path. I breathed in the scent of woodsmoke and snow.
The peace of the night overtook my senses as I reached the moon garden, one of my favorite places at Rosings Park.
An enchantment kept the temperature of the garden beds moderate enough for the plants to thrive in winter, and a charm amplifying the light of the moon made silvery lamb’s-ear and a variety of white flowers glow brightly enough that no other light was needed.
The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air as I wound my way through the garden paths.
Movement on the other side of the garden had me skirting a marble fountain depicting a moon goddess. I peeked around the edge as a woman wearing a purple hoodie turned toward me. Elizabeth Bennett. What was she doing here?
“Hi,” she called out.
I abandoned my post behind the statue and walked out to meet her.
She smiled, seemingly happy to have run into me. “I hope I’m not intruding,” she said. “Your mother told me I was welcome to walk around the grounds here, and since I was visiting Charlotte tonight, I thought I’d come over.”
“I’m glad you came,” I said, unable to resist glancing through the forest toward the path that led to Pastor Collins’s house. “I love this garden.”
Elizabeth stroked a velvety leaf from a lamb’s-ear plant. “It’s every bit as wonderful as Darcy said.”
I’d seen Elizabeth and Darcy speaking together a few times. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if they were enemies or friends, but the attraction between them was palpable.
Normally I wouldn’t be so blunt, but something about the night air emboldened me, so I asked, “Are you guys dating or…”
“What? No. Definitely not.” Elizabeth flushed and she waved a hand in the air. “Sometimes he’s nice, friendly even, but other times he seems annoyed that I’m around.” She sighed. “Without a veritas potion, I don’t have a shot at reading him. The man is a mystery.”
“Ha, that’s Darcy for you. He’s never been particularly outgoing. But if he’s willing to seek you out, he probably likes you.” I watched her closely for a reaction.
She bit her lip.
“He’s a nice guy,” I offered. “Even if he can seem a bit prickly.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Prickly is an accurate word for him.”
“He might be hard to get along with at first, but he’s incredibly loyal to his friends.”
“Friends like George Wickham?” She met my gaze, her eyes narrowing. “Do you know what happened with those two?”
I could have sworn the daisies next to me leaned in, and the fountain behind us seemed to quiet as though to facilitate their eavesdropping.
“I don’t know the details,” I said quickly. “But whatever Wickham did must have been bad because they haven’t spoken in years.”
The dahlia beside me bent closer, its florets almost reaching toward me. It probably knew exactly what had happened between Darcy and Wickham. If only I could speak to plants like my cousin Georgiana.
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you so sure it wasn’t Darcy’s fault?”
An owl landed on a branch near us, dusting us with snow. I wiped a few flakes from my cheek with a gloved hand. “I’m not saying Darcy is perfect, but he wouldn’t have turned on Wickham for no reason. He always has his friends’ best interests at heart.”
She cocked her head to the side. Her stubborn expression hadn’t changed, but she was at least listening. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend my cousin to her, but I hated the idea of her misunderstanding him.
“A few weeks ago, Darcy talked his friend Charles out of a really bad decision.”
She straightened. “Was it something to do with a girl?”
“Yes. Charles was interested in someone, but Darcy pointed out some big red flags.”
“What kind of red flags?”
Discomfort crept up like an itch between my shoulder blades.
This was starting to feel less like praising my cousin and more like gossip.
“Her mother said some things that made it obvious the girl was after his money. Darcy didn’t want to see Charles get taken advantage of. And the girl’s family was gauche.”
Elizabeth’s eyes blazed in the moonlight. She looked like she might ask another question, but I was ready to get as far away from this conversation as possible.
“That’s all I know. Anyway, I’d better get back. It was nice to see you, Elizabeth.”
A cloud drifted in front of the moon, and the light of the garden dimmed. Elizabeth smiled through pursed lips. “You too, Anne.”
I crept back up to my room, tiptoeing so as not to wake Mamá or any of the servants, and slipped into the soft, reindeer-print pajama set Georgiana had gifted me for Christmas last year.
Settling into my soft bed, I grabbed my phone to make sure my alarm was set, but my heart leapt when I saw I had another message from Neto.
A time-honored tradition like mistletoe shouldn’t be rushed. Maybe we could try that again.
I dropped my phone on to my lap and covered my mouth with both hands, then picked it up again, grinning, to make sure I’d understood. Had he really hinted that he wanted to kiss me again? I reread his text. He wanted to kiss me again, all right. And more slowly this time.
I slipped beneath my duvet and typed my response before I could overthink it.
Upholding tradition is what keeps a civilization intact. I’d say it’s our duty to try again.
The swiftness of his reply made me think he had been waiting for my response.
I’ll be on the lookout for more mistletoe.