Chapter 2
Despite my nerves, returning to Austen Heights felt like returning home. The town was a haven of sorts for people with magic, the Marked. Shifters and witches and fae and all manner of magical people lived together with regular humans. It was a charming, magical melting pot and I loved it.
After a smooth flight and a drive in a rental car where I couldn’t stop grinning the entire way, there I was: Netherfield Park.
I stepped from the car, not even bothering to retrieve my bags, and twisted the knob on the front door. It didn’t turn.
“It’s me,” I assured the house, placing my palm over the mahogany door. Netherfield was enchanted to meet the needs of its inhabitants, and I had a suspicion it was also sentient, as it had never failed to anticipate and meet my every need. That is—until now.
I tried again, and the door eased open. The grand entry was dark, lit only by a single sconce.
I walked toward the living room, making my way in the dim light.
The sun had already dipped below the horizon, the last purple hues slowly fading away, but Netherfield didn’t give me more than one light ahead of me as I moved forward.
“I’m sorry it’s been a while,” I called as I reached the couch. My voice echoed through the room. “It’s quite chilly in here, could you warm it up a little?”
A tiny flame sprang up in the fireplace. I moved closer to it. “I didn’t want to leave,” I tried to explain. “Darcy told me he needed me elsewhere. He’s the prince, you know, so I have to do what he says.”
The lights went out, leaving only the feeble fire, which cast shadows around the room.
“It’s not that I can’t think for myself. I can. But I trust Darcy’s judgement and he thought—”
The fire snuffed out.
“But I’m back now. You remember Jane, right? She stayed here for a while.” A lamp switched on, bathing the room in slightly more light. “I made a mistake and assumed she didn’t have feelings for me. But Darcy thinks she does. So I’m here to find out.”
No other lights came on. Did Netherfield approve of this plan or not?
“Well, I’m going to pick up a dog. Hopefully you can find it in your—” Did houses have hearts? The kitchen maybe? “Hopefully you can forgive me before I bring him home.”
The lights flickered. Was Netherfield asking a question? “I’ve inherited a dog. His name is Jaro. He and I are going to be living here for a while.”
The fire roared to life, radiating heat. Every lamp switched on, casting enough warm light through the room that I could have done a puzzle. And in front of the fireplace, a fuzzy maroon dog bed appeared.
Apparently I was forgiven.
I hurried back out to my car. Brittany told me she’d be at the shelter until around 7:00 and it was already 6:45.
Directions from my GPS led me to a dilapidated house across from the rec center.
Large trees rose above the moss-covered roof, and the backyard led into a wooded area.
Was this the right place? A flickering streetlight illuminated a small sign that read “Austen Heights Animal Shelter.” I took in the peeling paint on the shutters as I approached the sagging porch. This must be it.
I pushed open the door, and a little bell chimed, but nobody came to the empty front desk.
“Hello?” I called as I made my way down a narrow, carpeted hall.
The place smelled like animals, but in a clean way.
I moved down the hall and stopped in front of a door that was slightly ajar.
Raised voices from inside cut off abruptly at the sound of my knock, and the door swung open to reveal four people: a man in a black sweater with dark eyeliner, a glowering woman in a pantsuit, a dryad wearing a cat sweater, and an older man, who stood by the door.
The dryad spoke first. “You must be Charles Bingley. I’m Brittany.” She was tall and thin, with long, golden hair, and skin more textured than my own—more like bark.
“I’m Charles,” I said, shifting on my feet. She already knew that.
“Herb will take care of you. I think we’re just about finished here,” she said, glaring at the woman sitting across from her.
I stepped back into the hall and the older man followed, closing the door behind him. “Hello, Charles,” he said, doffing his brown newsboy cap and exposing his mop of white hair. “I’m Herb.”
I extended my hand to him and he gave it a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you,” I said. “Do you work here at the shelter?”
“I’m a volunteer. I help take care of these sweet animals until they can find a home. Jaro is a dear and I’ll be sad to see him go.” He gave me a closer look, adjusting his glasses. “Will you be a good companion for him?”
“I will.” It felt like an oath.
“Good. I’ll introduce the two of you.”
Years of training from a slew of governesses paid off in this moment when I calmly said, “I’m excited to meet him,” and refrained from bouncing on the balls of my feet.
I didn’t think this was what Darcy meant about deciding the direction of my life, but if I were going to start making decisions about what I actually wanted, fulfilling my childhood wish for a dog was a pretty good first step.
Herb led me down the hall to a large room filled with individual—my mind struggled to find the appropriate word.
‘Cells’ or ‘cages’ seemed too harsh a way to describe these spaces with their brightly colored rugs, assortment of toys, and homemade felt blankets.
They weren’t quite ‘habitats’ like you’d find at a zoo, but they were obviously created with a lot of thought and love.
I settled on the word ‘enclosure’ and followed Herb to the one at the end.
The creature inside looked more like a wolf than a dog.
His large ears reached toward the sky, and his snout was pointy and long.
He looked toward me curiously with warm brown eyes as Herb unlocked the door to his enclosure.
I braced myself to be jumped on, but Jaro padded cautiously toward me and sniffed me as politely as a dog could.
“Hey, Jaro,” I said, crouching to his eye level. “I’m sorry to hear about your human.” He allowed me to pet his long, black fur. “I know I’ll never take his place, but I promise to be there for you.”
Herb beamed at me, and I felt as though I’d passed some sort of test. He handed me an envelope with my name on it as I straightened. “Jim was a good guy. It looks like he had good instincts leaving Jaro to you,” he said.
“Thank you. Is there anything I need to sign or do?”
“No, everything should be set. His shot records are in the envelope and everything is up to date.”
“Thank you,” I said, pulling out my wallet.
Herb waved his hand. “Jim prepaid for Jaro’s care when he updated his will to include you, so you don’t owe anything.”
“Then at least let me make a donation,” I said.
“That is very kind,” he said. “Thank you.”
I wrote a check and handed it to him. His eyes bulged a little, but he quickly recovered himself. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bingley. If you have any questions or need anything, please don’t hesitate to call or even stop by.”
“I will, thank you.” I turned back to my dog, almost giddy with excitement at the thought that I was going to get to take him home with me. “Okay, Jaro, let’s go, boy.”
I walked out to the hall with Herb and froze when I beheld the person I’d been most eager to see, the girl who’d been brightening my dreams since September. Jane Bennet.
She wore a fitted performance shirt with short black shorts, and her golden-blonde hair hung in waves, shimmering in the light.
She turned toward me, eyes wide. “Charles?”
Goosebumps rose on my skin at my name on her lips, and all my feelings for this girl came crashing back. But then my brain caught up to my heart. Her face was too pale. As she took a small step toward me, my attention fell to the ground where a woman lay prone at Jane’s feet.