Chapter 4 #2
Her brown eyes lit up. “Lizzy, I didn’t expect to see you here. You never want to come to Club Meryton.”
I laughed. “I’m here for work. I would’ve told you, but I didn’t know you were back.” Besides Jane, Charlotte was my best friend. As soon as I’d moved back from New York, the three of us had gotten a place together.
“Just got in a bit ago,” she said. “It was a short trip.”
“How was your aunt?”
“Still insisting I get married if I want to see a penny of my inheritance.” She shrugged and tossed her wild black curls behind her shoulder, then fiddled with her scarf. She was always wearing one. It was as much a part of her as her love for crafts and baking.
“You’re looking for a husband in a club?” I teased and followed her toward the bar where a shifter woman with impressively applied eyeliner mixed drinks.
“Not particularly, but I promised I’d ‘make an effort’ to appease her.” Charlotte ordered a starlit elixir, her favorite drink. I had to take her word that the shimmering silver beverage was delicious since alcohol, like coffee, messed with my magic.
Charlotte was Unmarked, but she’d spent her whole life in Austen Heights and knew about the magical community.
As a town resident, she had a charm to protect her from the forgetfulness spell that made outsiders lose all memory of magic beyond the city limits.
For normal Unmarked, the spell altered their memories to fond recollections of a quirky little town and helped our tourism grow without risking the magical community.
But once an Unmarked returned to Austen Heights, their memories returned as well.
“Is that Charles Bingley dancing with Jane?” Charlotte tilted her head toward the dance floor.
“Yes.” I tried not to let my interaction with his haughty sister or his murderous friend color my tone.
“He seems really into her.” Charlotte sipped her drink, watching the pair dance.
“I know.” But how long would his interest last once he realized the Bennet sisters were half-witch? Surely he’d already started to sense that something was different about her.
“And she’s still dancing with him,” she said as the siren finished her second song and the music changed back to the gnome DJ.
“Weird, right?”
Three dances in a row with the same man was a record for Jane. Usually, she’d shoot me a look after one dance, occasionally two, begging me to come get her. But now she didn’t even seem to remember that I existed.
I ignored the twinge in my chest at the thought and scanned the dance floor for Darcy. I had been keeping an eye on him, but somehow I’d lost him in the crowd.
A growing sense of trepidation rose in me as sharp and cold as the wind from the harbor.
“You okay, Lizzy?” Charlotte studied me, worry creasing her forehead.
Before I could respond, Kitty and Lydia made their way over to us, prancing around the club as if they were still sixteen instead of twenty-one and nineteen. At least Lydia hadn’t received the stamp that would’ve allowed her to get drinks. Then her silliness would have known no bounds.
“Did you hear?” Lydia said as soon as she was in earshot, her voice coming out too loud.
Hoping she’d take the hint, I responded in a softer tone, “Hear what?” Yes, we were in a club, but the music wasn’t so loud that she needed to shout.
“The man dancing with Jane is Charles Bingley!” Excitement brightened Lydia’s eyes. “They’re staying at Netherfield Park while they’re in town.”
“Where did you hear that?” I pulled out my notebook and made a quick note to look into the place later.
“Those men over there.” Lydia pointed to the group of men from earlier and gave them a flirty wave. “They just got to town too.”
One of the men with a silvery outline faced our way, wearing sunglasses that didn’t belong indoors.
His cropped hair helped him fit in with the surrounding men, but he stood slightly apart, as if he wasn’t one of them.
His clenched jaw highlighted his cleft chin and the tension in his shoulders. What was wrong with him?
“Do you see the way Charles is looking at Jane?” Lydia’s comment drew my attention from the angry man.
“Or the way Jane’s looking at him.” Kitty giggled. “Maybe our family will be rich after all.”
“Jane gets all the good ones.” Lydia pushed out her lower lip. “She needs to snatch him up before some other girl comes along—maybe an elopement to Vegas or an accidental pregnancy would do the trick.”
“Stop that.” I glared at how they made Jane sound like a gold digger. “You’re acting like Mom.”
The men waved Kitty and Lydia back over, and the two ran off giggling, not paying the slightest attention to my scolding.
“They’re right, you know,” Charlotte said.
I gaped at her. When, in the history of the universe, had Kitty and Lydia ever been right? Especially when they were at their most ridiculous. “What do you mean?”
“If Jane is interested in Charles, she should let him know.”
“She’s danced with him three songs in a row!”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know how big a deal that is,” she said. “He seems like a nice enough man, and heaven knows those are hard to find.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” Darcy was attractive with his green eyes, thick curls, and muscular forearms, but he was a killer. Then again, weren’t Ted Bundy and H. H. Holmes? All smooth talk and handsome faces with secret murderous proclivities.
“Even still,” Charlotte continued, “Jane would be better off acting more interested than she feels, not less, since most guys need a ridiculous amount of encouragement.”
My gaze darted toward the dance floor again, but while I glimpsed Jane making her way to the restroom, Darcy and Charles were nowhere to be seen.
The silvery outlines around people flickered in and out before going dark. My potion had worn off. Everyone was nothing but dark silhouettes and neon hues of black, purple, and orange.
“Come on, Darcy,” Charles’s voice spoke nearby. “You need to dance with someone.”
I leaned away from the bar and glimpsed Charles and Darcy on the other side of the man next to me. Despite their proximity, I let out a relieved breath. At least I knew where they were now.
“I danced with your sister,” Darcy said in his rough voice.
“That doesn’t count and you know it,” Charles said. “You and Caroline are old friends.”
A horrified thought cut through me. If I could hear them, did that mean they could hear us? Or, more particularly, had they overheard Kitty and Lydia? No, that was silly. Charles had been dancing with Jane when they were over here, and Darcy had said he’d danced with Caroline.
“I don’t want to get to know anyone else,” Darcy said.
“Isn’t that why we’re here? So you can get out and explore a bit? See what things are like?” Charles continued.
“You know that isn’t why we’re here.”
“Well, it won’t hurt. Two birds with one stone and all,” Charles said.
I exchanged a look with Charlotte. She tilted her dark head back, silently saying we shouldn’t be listening, and I shook my head. A journalist didn’t get anywhere by walking away from conversations.
“There must be someone who has caught your eye,” Charles said.
“You are dancing with the prettiest woman here, although she smiles too much.”
“Jane is the most amazing woman I’ve ever met.” I could hear the smile in Charles’s voice. “But her sister Lizzy is pretty too. Why don’t you dance with her?”
A snort. “She isn’t my type. Besides, I didn’t come here to entertain women who can’t catch anyone else’s attention.”
I flushed. I deserved that after eavesdropping, but then again, why did I care what he thought of me? It would’ve been more of an inconvenience if Darcy liked me.
“You okay, Lizzy?” Charlotte put a hand on my arm, shooting a glare over my shoulder at Darcy.
“I’m fine. If I let every conceited comment get to me, I’d go crazy.”
“I wouldn’t recommend getting involved with anyone in that family before you ensure that they aren’t gold diggers, or worse,” Darcy’s deep voice warned.
My stomach dropped. He had heard. I risked another glance to find Darcy’s lips twisted in distaste.
“Jane wouldn’t care about that,” Charles said.
“You hardly know her.”
My gaze fell on Caroline at the other end of the club, now talking to another woman with the same straight nose, high cheekbones, and flawless skin.
They even shared the same red hair, though the second woman’s was chopped to her chin and her expression seemed more severe than Caroline’s.
Louisa, most likely. The two sisters must’ve been talking about Jane, because they both glared at her from across the room as she left the restroom and made her way over to us.
The doors to the club flew open, letting in a gust of crisp air and two police officers. Silence rippled outward from their entrance like dropping an ingredient into a cauldron.
“What are the police doing here?” Charlotte whispered.
My pulse picked up. If they arrested Darcy, I’d be here for the scoop.
The officers scanned the room, their gaze flicking over Charles and Darcy before moving on again. They started toward the opposite corner of the room, closer to the DJ, who turned the music down.
Disappointment settled across me, but I detached myself from the bar and followed them, determined to figure out what was going on. If they weren’t after Darcy, why had they come?
They made it across the dance floor and stopped in front of a group who silently watched their approach.
I picked up my pace, dread stealing the warmth from my fingers as they stopped in front of Mom.
“Mrs. Bennet?” The first officer, a dark-haired man with a curled mustache, faced Mom.
“Can I help you, officer?” She batted her lashes at him.
“We need you to come with us.” He folded his arms across his burly chest.
Mom’s eyes widened. “If this is about the building permits for the shop, can you come tomorrow during business hours?”
I gritted my teeth. Mom was always cutting corners to save money, but it seemed excessive for the cops to come find her in the middle of the night for a permit infraction.
“This isn’t about that.”
“Then what is it about?” Mom put her hands on her hips.
The officer looked her square in the eyes. “The death of Easton Hancock.”