I had a great time tonight.
I pressed my phone to my chest and sighed contentedly, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.
Me too.
Should I say something about the kiss? Apologize or explain it or something? No, that would be too much. People kissed under the mistletoe all the time. It probably meant nothing to him.
But I would never forget it for as long as I lived.
I considered taking a bath to help wind down before bed, but an excited energy still coursed through my body. A walk around the grounds would help me to calm down and think through everything. It always did.
I pulled on a hoodie and a pair of tennis shoes and crept out the door. I didn’t want to invite any more questions from Mamá,. The hall was dark except for the mood lighting low onthe ground, and I eased the door shut behind me, grateful that the caretakers at Rosings Park kept the hinges well-greased.
The cold of the night embraced me as I stepped out into the darkness, my boots crunching through the snow covering a cobblestone path. I breathed in the scent of woodsmoke and snow.
The peace of the night overtook my senses as I reached the moon garden, one of my favorite places at Rosings Park. An enchantment kept the temperature of the garden beds moderate enough for the plants to thrive in winter, and a charm amplifying the light of the moon made silvery lamb’s-ear and a variety of white flowers glow brightly enough that no other light was needed. The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air as I wound my way through the garden paths.
Movement on the other side of the garden had me skirting a marble fountain depicting a moon goddess. I peeked around the edge as a woman wearing a purple hoodie turned toward me. Elizabeth Bennett. What was she doing here?
“Hi,” she called out.
I abandoned my post behind the statue and walked out to meet her.
She smiled, seemingly happy to have run into me. “I hope I’m not intruding,” she said. “Your mother told me I was welcome to walk around the grounds here, and since I was visiting Charlotte tonight, I thought I’d come over.”
“I’m glad you came,” I said, unable to resist glancing through the forest toward the path that led to Pastor Collins’s house. “I love this garden.”
Elizabeth stroked a velvety leaf from a lamb’s-ear plant. “It’s every bit as wonderful as Darcy said.”
I’d seen Elizabeth and Darcy speaking together a few times. Honestly, I couldn’t tell if they were enemies or friends, but the attraction between them was palpable.
Normally I wouldn’t be so blunt, but something about the night air emboldened me, so I asked, “Are you guys dating or…”
“What? No. Definitely not.” Elizabeth flushed and she waved a hand in the air. “Sometimes he’s nice, friendly even, but other times he seems annoyed that I’m around.” She sighed. “Without a veritas potion, I don’t have a shot at reading him. The man is a mystery.”
“Ha, that’s Darcy for you. He’s never been particularly outgoing. But if he’s willing to seek you out, he probably likes you.” I watched her closely for a reaction.
She bit her lip.
“He’s a nice guy,” I offered. “Even if he can seem a bit prickly.”
Elizabeth snorted. “Prickly is an accurate word for him.”
“He might be hard to get along with at first, but he’s incredibly loyal to his friends.”
“Friends like George Wickham?” She met my gaze, her eyes narrowing. “Do you know what happened with those two?”
I could have sworn the daisies next to me leaned in, and the fountain behind us seemed to quiet as though to facilitate their eavesdropping.
“I don’t know the details,” I said quickly. “But whatever Wickham did must have been bad because they haven’t spoken in years.”
The dahlia beside me bent closer, its florets almost reaching toward me. It probably knew exactly what had happened between Darcy and Wickham. If only I could speak to plants like my cousin Georgiana.
Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “Why are you so sure it wasn’t Darcy’s fault?”
An owl landed on a branch near us, dusting us with snow. I wiped a few flakes from my cheek with a gloved hand. “I’m not saying Darcy is perfect, but he wouldn’t have turned onWickham for no reason. He always has his friends’ best interests at heart.”
She cocked her head to the side. Her stubborn expression hadn’t changed, but she was at least listening. I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to defend my cousin to her, but I hated the idea of her misunderstanding him.
