Chapter 7 #2
My heart jumped into my throat. Did he know? He had to have seen me. Why else would he switch cups so suddenly?
Charles took a sip of Darcy’s cup, and I stood there, barely breathing. After a beat, Charles passed it with a smirk. “It isn’t too hot.”
Darcy rolled his eyes but accepted the cup.
Did Charles always test Darcy’s drinks for him? I seriously could not figure out their relationship.
“Do you guys want to ride the Ferris wheel?” Charles gave Jane another sunny smile. “We can drink while we wait in line.”
“I love the Ferris wheel.” Her face lit up. Each year, the festival organizers planned something to help the Ferris wheel stand out, and Jane always looked forward to seeing the new twist on it.
Charles’s cheeks flushed, and he ran a hand down his gray sweater. It paired with his jeans for the perfect combination of classy and casual. Unlike some people, he didn’t look remotely too fancy for a festival.
Charles offered his arm to Jane, leaving me to walk by Darcy. “By” was a loose interpretation of the word, as he left a gap large enough for three people to walk between us, which they did.
I closed the distance until it was wide enough for only one person to walk through and stared down at my drink while we walked, trying not to watch Darcy as I waited for him to take a sip.
After a handful of sprites flew between us on their way to the tiny booth they’d set up to sell magical trinkets, I attempted to speak to Darcy again.
“I’m impressed by you.” I glanced up at him through my lashes as Lydia often did when talking to men and took another sip of my cider.
“Why?” Darcy studied me as if he didn’t know what to make of me.
I bit back a smile. I’d caught him off guard. “One needs a certain amount of resilience to accompany his friend to an outing with such tedious company.”
“What do you mean?”
“I understand why Charles wanted to come, but I wasn’t sure why you’d agree when your date wasn’t your type.”
His expression stiffened, and he looked down at his drink for a long moment before finally taking a sip.
One point for Lizzy and zero for Darcy.
“Have you been to a festival like this before?” I asked when he didn’t seem inclined to break the awkward silence.
“Not in these parts.” He eyed a stand selling everlasting mugs—which were like magical Contigo water bottles. They kept your drink hot or cold depending on what you wanted and never spilled, even when knocked over.
“It’s a big thing around here,” I said. “Everyone goes.”
“Is that why you’re here? Because everyone does it?” He shot me another indecipherable look.
I laughed. “You’re confusing me with someone who cares about what society thinks.”
He was confusing me with my mother.
The thought sobered me, and I switched tactics now that he had the potion in his system. “What happened to that man was horrible, don’t you think?” I said softly, trying not to interrupt Jane’s date.
At Darcy’s hard look, I widened my eyes, trying to hide my suspicion behind a layer of innocence.
“Yes.” His voice was gravelly.
“What was his name again? Ethan?”
“Easton.”
I took another sip to hide my smile. No need to admit to Darcy that I already knew all about Easton—the twenty nine year old who came from New Hope, Pennsylvania, and who had an older brother, a younger sister, and a mother.
I’d tried to reach out to the family but had had no luck so far.
Easton had moved to New York a few years ago, where he probably got mixed up with the Bingleys and Darcy.
He likely came with Charles’s group, but I still didn’t know the most important thing: why he’d been arguing with Darcy.
I had a feeling that once I figured that out, I’d have my motive for the murder.
“Did you know him?” I asked as we passed a few hay bales that filled the air with their fresh, earthy scent.
Darcy’s gaze whipped to me, eyes narrowed in a curious scowl. He seemed surprised but also frustrated. He always seemed frustrated with me. But since the feeling was mutual, I didn’t mind.
“Yes.” His tone was strained again, but that probably happened when you talked about people you murdered.
So he wasn’t a psychopath, just a killer.
“I don’t think he was from here. I’m guessing not anyway, since I’d never heard of him before the other night, and Austen Heights is one of those places where everyone knows everyone.” My notebook crinkled in my pocket as if trying to give me away for lying. I wasn’t guessing about any of this.
We passed wooden booths set up with carnival toys and foods, bringing the sweet scent of pixie pies, the tang of harvest moon snaps, and stardust funnel cakes.
My mouth watered as we passed the last food stand, but I didn’t stop.
Somehow, it felt like I’d lose if I revealed anything as childish as a craving for a stardust funnel cake to Darcy.
Charles turned to face us as we stopped in line for the Ferris wheel, his usual smile subdued. “Easton was a good man and a good bodyguard. He was reliable and funny and never shirked his duty.”
With Charles being a highborn fae, it made sense for Easton to be his bodyguard. Those men from the club the other night were probably bodyguards as well.
Darcy cleared his throat, and Charles looked at him, then shook his head and returned to his conversation with Jane, who shot me a warning look over her shoulder.
I bit my lip, not wanting to upset her, but I couldn’t stop before getting at least a few answers.
“Who’s riding next?” a booming voice asked as we made it to the front of the line.
“How about we let the others go first?” Charles nudged Darcy and whispered, “Don’t be rude this time. Ride with Lizzy.”
Jane caught my eye and shot me a pleading look. Clearly, I hadn’t been as subtle as I’d intended.
I gave her a winning smile despite the nerves in my stomach. It was fine. The statistics for people being murdered on Ferris wheels were notoriously low. Besides, now was my chance to get some answers before the potion wore off without upsetting Jane.
“Be gentle with the animals,” the worker said as we climbed in.
“Animals?” Darcy asked, but the man had already shut the door.
I settled onto the hard metal seat while Darcy situated himself across from me, his knees bumping mine. A small wolf cub sitting on the floor whined as we started to move.
With a smile, I bent to pick it up and place it in my lap, glancing around to check what animals the other gondolas had.
The one in front of us had a glowing fox pup, and the one behind us had a tiny owl with sparkling feathers.
Was our pup magical somehow? It wouldn’t make sense for it to be a werewolf since those were illegal, so maybe it was simply a well-trained wolf pup.
At the very least, it was extremely cute.
It nuzzled its wet nose against my neck and thumped its tail, and I giggled. I accidentally met Darcy’s eye, and he quickly shifted his attention to stare out the window.
I did the same, trying to organize my thoughts while I absently stroked the wolf’s surprisingly soft fur.
My gaze caught on two women walking arm in arm between the fair booths.
Caroline Bingley and her sister, Louisa Hurst, whose name I’d confirmed online last night, stopped to watch those dancing in the open area in the middle of the fairgrounds.
You’d never be able to tell Louisa was married since she was always with her sister instead of her husband.
Maybe he hadn’t come to Austen Heights with the rest of them.
Caroline looked around, her lips curved faintly up, though the smile looked mocking, and Louisa’s nose looked permanently wrinkled from the number of times she sniffed in disdain. They didn’t look like they were enjoying the festival, but if that was the case, I wasn’t sure why they didn’t leave.
Seeing them reminded me of my earlier question. What had brought the Bingleys to Austen Heights? Except for Charles, none of them seemed like they wanted to be here.
Now that was a conversation I could risk, since Austen Heights was known for gossip. Plus, Darcy seemed like the type who would be more willing to open up if I didn’t focus on him directly. If he ever opened up to anyone. Ever.
“Those are Charles’s sisters, right?” I gestured toward the ground as the Ferris wheel went higher.
The wolf pup’s ears perked up at my voice, but Darcy grew rigid, as if my casual conversation was a new form of torture I’d decided to inflict on him. “Yes.”
I hid a smile. How interesting that I could annoy him so much by talking.
I could kill two birds with one stone—appease Jane by being friendly to Darcy and make him miserable while I dug for answers.
The thought almost made talking to him bearable.
Plus, while potion guaranteed that he only spoke the truth, it didn’t make him talk.
I had to persuade him to keep the conversation going.
“They look like him,” I said.
“That’s about their only similarity. Caroline is much louder than Charles and uses her magic constantly, while Louisa hardly ever speaks and is almost scared of her magic.” His eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe he’d said all of that.
“What brought them to Austen Heights?” I kept Darcy in my periphery but focused on the wolf, who watched me with soulful amber eyes.
“Charles has always loved the country.” Darcy drummed the fingers of his left hand on his leg, his tone clipped again.
The truth, but was it the whole truth? He sounded wary, which made me think he was hiding something.
“Yet he lives in New York,” I pointed out with a flirty smile. Better to seem like Lydia than to seem suspicious. Unless acting like Lydia made me seem suspicious…
“Yes.”
“I can’t help but wonder why he came to such a small town.”
The Ferris wheel creaked softly as we ground to a halt, letting on more passengers somewhere below. Darcy still didn’t answer.
“I heard you guys are staying at the Netherfield Airbnb. Do you like it?” I tried again, anything to keep the conversation alive while the potion was still in effect.
As long as I focused on interrogating him, I could keep my nerves at bay.
“The tourists always love the names of our buildings when they come.” I was rambling, which was extra pathetic considering the tradition came from the fae hundreds of years ago. He wouldn’t be impressed by that.
“Don’t call it an Airbnb.” Darcy gave me an almost affronted look. “Charles bought it before their arrival, but Caroline would still insist on moving immediately if she heard it called that.”
I blinked at him, although I couldn’t say I was truly surprised. Of course, Charles had bought it. What would it be like to have that sort of money to burn on a spontaneous purchase?
“Have you been asking about me?” Darcy asked abruptly as we moved again.
A faint blush heated the back of my neck, although I had nothing to be embarrassed about. Looking into people was my job as a reporter. Plus, someone needed to keep an eye on Darcy, considering what he was capable of. “Seemed only fair since you’ve been paying attention to my family.”
He ran a hand through his short curls and met my gaze. “I’m sorry about what happened with your mother.”
I tried to school my features into something more neutral, even though surprise rocked through me. Darcy did not seem like the kind of guy to apologize. And why would he be sorry if he’d been the one who set her up?
“I thought she was involved in what happened to Easton,” he continued.
My mouth fell open. Darcy wasn’t lying. He couldn’t be. But if he’d killed Easton, why had he thought Mom was involved? Since he brought up the murder himself, it was time to be bold before the potion wore off. “I know you were with Easton when he died.”
His eyes flew wide. “How did you know that?”
Since I didn’t owe him any answers, I stared out the window at the people who were the size of Legos now.
The wolf whined and looked between us as if sensing the tension.
“You think I killed Easton?” Darcy asked.
“I don’t think. I know.” I started to pet the pup again, not looking away from its adorable face.
“You don’t know anything about me,” Darcy said as we came to a stop at the top. “I didn’t kill Easton. I was trying to save him.”
My mouth fell open, and I whipped my head up to study his expression—the hard line of his jaw and the dark slash of his brows.
He hadn’t killed Easton? That meant I’d been on the wrong track all along, and Jane had been right. My stomach dropped.
I’d misunderstood the Portent.
Darcy was innocent.