Chapter 2
I didn’t die.
The sports car screeched to a halt just a few feet shy of running me over. My head ached, and my vision blurred. A familiar looking—from what I could tell with my intense headache—guy got out of the car and ran toward me.
“Georgiana!” The voice wasn’t my brother’s. But I recognized it. “Stay with me. Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up? Oh… no, you shouldn’t try to move.”
I blinked at the hand… eight? Twelve fingers? That couldn’t be right. I forced myself to sit up and then stand. At least I wasn’t paralyzed. But the world spun around me, and I lost my balance, landing in the arms of my rescuer, who caught me around the waist.
I briefly caught sight of his face. It couldn’t be. “Henry?”
“Yes, I’ve got you. Let me call an ambulance.”
But I shook my head. How could Henry be here? Was I imagining it, or was he even more attractive than I remembered? Maybe I’d been isolated at Pemberley too long, because the sight of him stunned me nearly as much as my fall.
I blinked, trying to keep my eyes open and my thoughts coherent.
We’d gone to College de Synthese together in Paris, and met and played together a few times as children because our parents frequented the same political circles.
But he shouldn’t be on the road to Pemberley unless he lived in the area.
“Henry?” I asked again.
He must’ve had his arm around me or something, because he was close enough for me to sense the warmth of his touch. “Yes, still me, Georgiana. We need to get you some medical care.”
My brain couldn’t stay on topic.
“My horse… there’s a storm rolling in… where’s Luna?” My vision slowly cleared, and I made out the features of Henry’s face—defined jaw, dark brows, sandy hair, and stormy blue eyes. How was he so tanned in December? What was happening?
“I’m sure we’ll find the horse, but you need an ambulance. Who knows if you’re bleeding internally, or...”
I was still leaning on Henry but didn’t dare attempt to stand on my own. “But the snow…” I swear my thoughts made sense, but I couldn’t verbalize them to save my life.
“It’s okay.” Henry pulled out his phone. “I’m calling 911.”
I looked down at my scratched-up arms and legs and registered the searing pain near my ankle. A sharp gust whistled through the trees and whipped my hair across my face.
“No, please. We’re too far away from those kinds of services. We need to get to Pemberley now. A snow squall is coming in.” My mind finally processed enough to recognize the danger. “We have trained healers there.”
Henry paused and rubbed his brow. “What? Well, at least let me drive you.”
When I didn’t object, he helped me to his car and deposited me in the front seat. Then he circled the car and hopped into the driver’s side. “You said you had a horse with you?”
“She knows how to get home. I just hope she’s alright.
” I blinked, trying to look around for any sign of Luna.
Was I imagining the dark clouds racing across the sky?
I leaned my head against the window as Henry turned his car around and sped back toward my home.
The wind blasted into Henry’s car as we rounded the curving narrow country road, the only way to and from Pemberley.
A thick barrage of snowflakes hit the windshield and left a sheet of white on the ground.
“This storm rolled in quickly,” Henry said, reducing his speed on the already slick road.
Luna had run farther than I realized. “I’m getting nauseous.”
“We’re almost there.” Henry reached over and patted my hand.
What was he doing on the road to Pemberley in the first place?
Henry pulled up to the circular driveway at the front of the massive house.
Even after growing up there for the past twenty-one years, the building’s size still took me by surprise.
Decked for Christmas, each of the front-facing windows donned an evergreen wreath and red velvet ribbon. Over twenty-five in total.
Henry hopped out of the car, opened my door for me, reached to help me out, then seemed to think better of it. “Stay here. I’m going to get some help.”
“Yeah,” I nodded and watched him run to the front doors. In a moment, he was back with my brother, my visiting cousin Bradford, and Annie, our medical technician.
Annie dropped her medical bag on the ground. But a powdery layer of snow coated it before she could pull out her stethoscope. “We need to get her into the house. I can’t do anything here with the snow burying my medical equipment.”
Bradford and Henry stood at my sides and lifted me to my feet, then they guided me into the house.
In a sitting room near the foyer, they settled me onto a sofa where Darcy removed my coat and boots.
Annie ran her hands over my wounds, which seemed to amount to road rash, blunt trauma, and maybe a fractured ankle.
Her fae healing powers made her a decent healer.
But her skill and expertise made her exceptional.
She attached a blood pressure cuff, oxygen monitor, and flashed a light into my eyes.
“What happened to you?” Darcy kneeled next to me and took my hand.
“Some loud noise spooked Luna, I think. She reared as we were rounding a corner by the willow trees.” I knew a lecture was coming.
“You were riding up by the embankments? Georgiana, you know how dangerous that is,” Darcy chided, but worry clouded his expression.
“I know. It would have been fine if not for the explosion.
" I rubbed my aching temples and looked around the room. Henry was there, along with Bradford and Annie. A pretty dark-haired girl stood in the doorframe. Right, I’d just met her.
My head ached. It was the girl Darcy liked, Lizzy, I think. I waved to her. “You can come in.”
“Explosion?” Darcy’s eyes widened.
I shrugged, closing my eyes. “It sounded like an explosion, anyway.”
“Well, you definitely had a good fall and have a concussion. I can help, but I can’t completely fix everything.
You’ll need to take it easy.” Annie put her equipment back in her bag and pulled out some bandages.
“We need to wash these wounds and get them wrapped. Looks like your leg and forearm took the brunt of your fall. You may have a hairline fracture in your ankle.”
“I need some aspirin.” My mind raced over the recent events. I was missing something. “We need to make sure Luna made it back.”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Darcy cooed like an overprotective parent, and brushed my cheek. Past the glass in the picture window behind him, buckets of snow poured from the sky. But with the roaring fireplace and wreath above the mantel, the room was cozy and warm.
“Was someone out shooting today?” I asked.
“Not that I allowed.” Darcy stood and looked around at the group as if they had an answer. “I’d never allow that on a day we were offering public tours.”
“Could it have been a car engine backfiring, or a tire?” Lizzy, who’d made it halfway into the room, asked. A maid carrying a tray of steaming cider and hot cocoa followed her.
Annie took one of the cider mugs, slipped some healing potion into it, and handed it to me. “Sip this. It will help with the shock.”
“The sound was very sharp.” I accepted the warm mug, trying to piece together any more details. “It was deafening, like a rifle.”
“We’ll need to search the property and pull up security feeds.” Darcy wrung his hands together. “Do we still have many tourists in the house? John and Fran Dashwood were the last people I saw. Lizzy, what about your aunt and uncle?”
“They left an hour ago. I brought my own car because I was heading back to Austen Heights after the tour. But there were more visitors arriving at the time.” Lizzy lowered herself into a red leather armchair beside the Christmas tree in the corner.
“I’m afraid no one is leaving for the time being,” Henry cut in. He stood by the floor to ceiling window, drawing back the sheer drapes. All we could see was white.
“We’re in the middle of a squall,” I said. If my arms and legs didn’t ache so much, I would have delighted in the scene. The lights on the parlor’s Christmas tree reflected in the glass. Outside, snow coated the windowpanes, and dizzy white flakes spun through the air.
“Yes, I think we’re trapped.” Lizzy muttered. As if to verify the fact, the lights flickered, and the wind howled.
Cousin Bradford’s brows furrowed. “I’ll fetch a butler for you. We need to make sure Luna made it back to the stables. The horses are going to be panicking.”
“I work with horses a lot. I can come help you,” Henry offered and followed Bradford out the door.
Darcy watched the two of them leave the sitting room. “Who is that guy, Georgiana? I know he drove you here, but you seem to know him from somewhere else.”
“His name is Henry Cyprus. We went to College de Synthese in Paris together.
You've met him before because his parents attended a lot of Mom's and Dad's soirees. But I don’t know why he’s here. I thought he lived in upstate New York or something.” I tried to make sense of things, but my head ached so badly I could hardly think.
“We were friends at school and took some of the same classes.”
Lizzy leaned forward, cupping her chin in her palms. “He looks familiar. Maybe I saw the car he drove here earlier today when I came with my aunt and uncle. He might be touring and wanted to see the art as well?” She asked, but there was something else on her mind, and she gazed absently at Darcy.
I wasn't persuaded. “Of course that’s possible.”
Darcy weighed Henry in his mind, like every other guy I associated with. "Well, I'm glad our parents knew his family, at least."
Henry wasn’t fae, but he always seemed to glow just a little.
In school, he won every athletic and academic competition held.
All the girls at College de Synthese adored him, including me.
But I’d always seen Henry more like a celebrity than an actual person.
He was out of reach and belonged to the stars.
Plus, I was too in love with Wickham during most of those years to think much of anyone else. I'd given all of my heart to him and still hadn't recovered. Part of me crumbled when Wickham left, and I doubted it could ever be whole again.
“Now, hold still.” Annie took a pair of scissors to my riding trousers. “I’m sorry, but these pants are done for… unless you want to turn them into shorts.”
“Shorts?” I watched her cut away all the fabric below the knee. Then she pressed a warm, wet cloth to my bloodied shin, and I winced even with the healing waves of fae energy.
“Maybe you never cut your jeans into shorts when they got a hole in the knee?” she asked with a slight lift at the corner of her mouth. “I healed your fractured ankle, but this is still going to hurt. It might help if you don’t look.”
The searing pain shooting up my leg took my focus away from my headache. I grimaced. “Nope. Looking away makes no difference. Ahh.”
“As soon as the wound’s clean, I can spray some lidocaine on it and focus on the healing. But I promise, you don’t want to heal a dirty wound.” She turned to my brother. “There’s ibuprofen in my bag on the side there. Go ahead and give her 600 milligrams.”
After the wounds were clean, Annie wrapped them and used her power to heal as much as she could. “You should be okay. But give yourself a few days for your ankle to fully heal.”
“A few days…” I nodded, wriggling my toes.
“Miss Georgiana, let’s try not to go falling off horses anymore. I can’t heal you if you die.” She gave me a playful look, but I knew she was serious.
I considered the events of the last hour. “Sorry, Annie. I’ll be more careful. I wonder what happened out there. Whatever it was startled Luna."
“Riding by the embankment is risky, Georgiana. If Mom and Dad were still alive, they’d take away your riding privileges altogether.” Darcy gave me a firm stare.
“I know.” Though I doubted Mom would’ve tried to stop me. She was bolder than Dad or Darcy ever knew.
Sylvia, my personal housekeeper, arrived with a fresh outfit for me, and we shooed Darcy out of the room so I could change into clean clothes.
“You can stay and help, please,” Sylvia said to Lizzy.
“Of course.” Lizzy nodded and helped me with my zippers and buttons. We wiped the blood and dirt from my skin, and I slid into a pair of loose plum yoga pants with a cream-colored camisole and cardigan.
With just us girls in the room, Lizzy sat and brushed the tangles out of my hair. Since Darcy was banished to the hallway, I had the bright idea to play matchmaker. “Thank you so much. My brother will kill me for saying this, but he’s pretty crazy about you.”
“Oh, he may have been… probably not anymore.” Lizzy sounded regretful, and I wanted to ask her why she said that, but it would’ve been rude.
I kept trying. “I don’t know. He’s very loyal. If he cares about you, you would have to do something pretty terrible to get on his bad side.”
“Is that so?” Lizzy seemed confused. “But once you’re on his bad side, that’s it, right?”
“No. I can only think of one person he’s unwilling to speak to, and it's to protect me.” My experience with Wickham a while ago was regrettable, and partly my own fault. I doubted Darcy was really even angry so much as concerned, but it was over now.
I might have imagined a slight gasp from Lizzy. “Really?”
“Yes, he’s very protective,” I said as Lizzy set the hairbrush down and sat next to me. “Especially since our parents passed.”
“I’m sorry.” Lizzy’s eyes were distant, and I wondered what she was thinking about. “My dad’s been sick with Moonrot lately. I can’t imagine.”
“I bet you’d like to get home to him.” I’m sure being trapped here in a complicated situation was awkward for her.
“Sorry you’re stuck here. These country roads are usually the last to be plowed when we have a big storm roll in.
But I’m sure Darcy will do whatever he can to help you be comfortable for the night. ”
“The night?” Lizzy bit her bottom lip.
“It’s highly likely,” Sylvia added while helping me into a pair of fluffy socks. “A couple of times a year we get these types of storms. There’s no coming or going for at least twenty-four hours.”
The sitting-room doors flew open. Henry, Bradford, and Oscar, our butler, ran inside.
“Someone’s been shot!” “A murder!” They spoke simultaneously.
“What?” I blinked.
Darcy followed them into the room, red-faced. “Sorry. They ran in before I could tell them you were changing.”
“Changing?” Henry gulped, taking a backward step.
“It’s okay. We’re done." I looked between their faces. "Did you say murder?”
Henry took a large breath and explained. “Your horse made it back to the stables, but she was carrying someone. A man. He had a gunshot wound to the abdomen. He fell off the horse just before we could speak to him, but he mentioned one word. ‘Murder’.”
“Murder at Pemberley?” Darcy’s face darkened and a hint of fae magic glowed at his fingertips. “This is becoming a pattern.”