Chapter 2
If anyone could wield religious condemnation like a bullwhip, it was Pastor Collins.
I sat in my pew, cheeks burning. He didn’t always speak with such fire and brimstone, but given the fae woman’s death, I should have expected these sentiments.
And rightfully so. If some werewolf or vampire was to blame, they should be condemned and banned.
A few fae cast glances our way. Although witches weren’t illegal like werewolves and vampires, society didn’t fully accept them. The Bennets, after all, were the only witches in the room. Half-witches. Other than Mom, who was a full witch, us sisters were half-fae witches.
The speech continued on just as intensely, and by the end, my sisters and I were staring at our hands in our laps.
Religious figures depicted in the stained-glass windows stared at us with accusing eyes, while Ms. Bates sat there with a smile on her face, nodding as she knitted away at her mittens.
Though she didn’t look it, she was at least four hundred years old.
After so many times attending church, I wondered how much she listened to the sermons, or if the Sundays had simply started to blend together.
“Well, that was a bit overdone.” Kitty tucked her phone into her pocket after the sermon ended.
“I knew I shouldn’t have come.” Lizzy glared back at a passing couple who cast dirty glances in our direction.
“They’re only mad because of the fae woman that was killed,” Jane said. “I’m certain things will calm down in time.”
“A witch didn’t kill her, Jane. Everyone knows it was a full moon.
And considering how and where they found her, a werewolf was most likely the culprit,” Lizzy snapped, albeit quietly.
“Still, it would be best to wait for more evidence to be sure. Despite that, everyone treats us as if we put the knife to the girl’s throat. ”
“We aren’t just witches, though,” I murmured in response. “We are witches who have tainted the blood of the fae.” Our very existence darkened the brightness of the sun.
Lizzy made a disgruntled noise.
Mom looked around at the angry stares, wringing her hands.
“Oh, that Mr. Collins, giving such a nonsensical sermon. Doesn’t he have any compassion for my poor nerves?
And that is silly, Mary.” She forced a smile and nodded to a passing fae couple.
“My daughters are just as good as anyone here. We’ll hold our heads high, do you understand?
Jane is right, this will blow over soon. ”
And as if to save us from our dismay, who should walk up but Charles Bingley?
He edged his way through worn wooden pews.
His Darcy shadow was nowhere to be seen, having left already.
Darcy’s questionable dealings with a lesser fae named Wickham fueled recent gossip spreading through the town, no doubt causing his quick departure.
“Hello, Mrs. Bennet, everyone, Jane.” Charles’s smitten smile grew wider when he beheld her shy grin. “I hope you’re having a good day.”
“Mr. Bingley, how wonderful to see you,” Mom said, the worry lines disappearing in a flash. “We are having a good day now that you’re here. Your presence lights up this whole dreary chapel. Doesn’t it, Jane?”
Jane flushed. “It is good to see you, Charles.”
Charles’s grin somehow stretched wider. “I’m throwing a Halloween party at Netherfield this Saturday, and I wanted to invite you to attend. You’re all invited.” He looked at Ms. Bates and her mother, including them in his offer.
I knew what was coming next. I gripped my coat like it might protect me from the onslaught that would inevitably come. But I had a single chance at escape. Concentrating, I accessed the little spark of fae light within me.
Carefully fanning the spark, it grew into a candle. I fed it my desire. I fed it as quickly as I could. Fade, fade, fade.
Mom’s gaze whipped to me as if she understood what I was trying to do. “How kind of you!” she said to Bingley.
I held my fae power close. Being half-fae meant each Bennet sister had a magical ability, however weak.
With the candle lit, Charles’s attention should never land on me.
That’s how it always worked. I became practically invisible—not really invisible—but my power willed those around me to overlook my existence for a short time.
But it didn’t work for someone who stared at me while I activated my power. Mom’s gaze bored into mine, even though she still talked to Charles. “Of course we will come. We wouldn’t miss it. We’ll all be there, right Mary?”
I lost my hold on my ability and let it go as my fingers curled into my black skirt. I ducked my head as Charles’s attention landed on me. “Yes, we’d be happy to attend.”
“Excellent!” Charles clapped his hands together. “Wonderful. It will be a splendid evening.” He gave Jane a last longing glance before turning. “Oh look, it’s Frank Churchill. I should invite him as well.”
I sucked in a breath, and I raised my gaze to follow his. If Frank Churchill came, perhaps the event wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Charles turned back to Jane. “I’ll text you the rest of the details. See you then.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Bye.”
“Yes, it was great seeing you, Mr. Bingley. We so look forward to attending your party,” Mom said with enough volume to ensure that anyone remaining in the chapel heard.
Charles’s grin flickered before he stepped away. Pastor Collins, having shifted from a condemning sermon to all smiles and compliments, immediately intercepted Charles. I glanced over at Frank, who still sat unmoving in his seat.
Pain etched the features of his handsome face.
Watching him, I couldn’t help but recall the time as children that I’d stumbled upon him in the woods while he searched for his pet cat.
It had taken almost until the sun had set before we’d found it hiding up in a tree.
Frank had climbed the large spruce and gotten it down.
Later, he’d walked me home. He’d been so kind and attentive and funny that I’d been smitten ever since.
But that had been that. Afterwards, we’d both resumed our own lives.
He’d dated so many different women after high school that he probably didn’t even remember me or that day as children from so long ago, though I’d never forgotten.
I stared at him, wishing I knew what caused him such anguish.
Was it the death of the fae woman? Did he know her personally, or was Frank struggling with his own demons?
I had the urge to walk over and smooth that furrow between his brows, but then shook myself.
What was I thinking? If I walked up to Frank Churchill and tried that, he’d most likely press assault charges.
“Should we get going?” Lizzy stood.
I tore my gaze away from Frank as we joined her in making our way toward the exit.
A bulletin board containing fliers and other town announcements hung near the entrance.
Front and center—put up by Mom the moment she got her hands on it—was the announcement for the Austen Heights 37th Annual Autumn Bake-Off.
Mom touched it with a small smile as she walked out.
This year, she’d finally been selected as one of the judges.
As soon as we were out the doors, my sisters dispersed.
Kitty ran off with friends. Jane and Lizzy headed for separate cars.
The one Lizzy approached had a man standing outside it.
He was tall with olive skin, a playful spark in his eyes and stylish chin-length hair.
George Wickham, though everyone in town just called him Wickham.
Darcy stood outside the church in his pressed suit and tie as if waiting.
Upon noticing Lizzy, he started to follow her, then stopped when he observed the man near the automobile.
Darcy stiffened, his hands clenching before he turned and stalked off.
The townspeople, gathered in tight clusters, went wild with whispers.
“Did you see that? Such bad blood between the two. Which is unfortunate, I understand they grew up together. Darcy’s father raised George Wickham,” Mrs. Soo-jin Pembroke, the town mayor, murmured to Mrs. Priscilla Long.
“Yes, but did you hear what Darcy did?” Mrs. Long replied. “Apparently George was Darcy’s father’s favorite. And after he died, Darcy kicked George out of the family and denied him access to the inheritance meant for poor George.”
Mrs. Pembroke put a hand to her heart. “That is so horrible! I should go tell Ms. Bates. Oh, Ms. Bates, have you heard the news?”
As I moved down the steps, others spoke about Isabella Ravenswood. “That poor woman. She’d only been living here a year after returning from college.” Lucy Steele leaned close to her sister, Anne Steele. “Her parents must be so devastated.”
Anne trembled. “I can’t believe Austen Heights isn’t safe.”
Lucy shook her head. “Well, I hope they catch the culprit. I’m shocked that such a thing happened in our little town again.”
Mom faced me, for once focused on something besides gossip. “Now Mary, what are we going to do with you? You can’t keep avoiding social engagements.”
Oh no. Somehow, my sisters had disappeared and now only we two remained. I usually took care to avoid such circumstances. I needed an out, and fast.
Stepping back, I edged away from her. “I have some research to do. In the cemetery.”
A pout formed on Mom’s lips. “Today? Can’t it wait? We need to devise a plan to find you a husband.”
“It can’t wait.”
Her pout deepened. “Don’t you realize I want to talk to you? How can you be so unfeeling?”
I’d just agreed to go to the Bingley party.
What else did she want from me? A part of me wished I’d moved out with Lizzy and Jane, but an internship hardly paid the amount needed for a decent apartment, even when splitting it with roommates.
Plus, they’d never so much as asked me. They’d invited Charlotte, Lizzy’s friend, instead.
Perhaps it’s because I was so “unfeeling.”