“A few weeks ago, Darcy talked his friend Charles out of a really bad decision.”
She straightened. “Was it something to do with a girl?”
“Yes. Charles was interested in someone, but Darcy pointed out some big red flags.”
“What kind of red flags?”
Discomfort crept up like an itch between my shoulder blades. This was starting to feel less like praising my cousin and more like gossip. “Her mother said some things that made it obvious the girl was after his money. Darcy didn’t want to see Charles get taken advantage of. And the girl’s family was gauche.”
Elizabeth’s eyes blazed in the moonlight. She looked like she might ask another question, but I was ready to get as far away from this conversation as possible.
“That’s all I know. Anyway, I’d better get back. It was nice to see you, Elizabeth.”
A cloud drifted in front of the moon, and the light of the garden dimmed. Elizabeth smiled through pursed lips. “You too, Anne.”
I crept back up to my room, tiptoeing so as not to wake Mamá or any of the servants, and slipped into the soft, reindeer-print pajama set Georgiana had gifted me for Christmas last year. Settling into my soft bed, I grabbed my phone to make sure my alarm was set, but my heart leapt when I saw I had another message from Neto.
A time-honored tradition like mistletoe shouldn’t be rushed. Maybe we could try that again.
I dropped my phone on to my lap and covered my mouth with both hands, then picked it up again, grinning, to make sure I’d understood. Had he really hinted that he wanted to kiss me again? I reread his text. He wanted to kiss me again, all right. And more slowly this time.
I slipped beneath my duvet and typed my response before I could overthink it.
Upholding tradition is what keeps a civilization intact. I’d say it’s our duty to try again.
The swiftness of his reply made me think he had been waiting for my response.
I’ll be on the lookout for more mistletoe.
Chapter 6
Thenextday,Itook more time getting ready than I’d like to admit. It took an astonishing amount of effort to get my loose curls to look effortless and to use makeup to highlight all of my features without looking like I was trying too hard. I was pleased with the result, though. I’d chosen my softest red knitted sweater with wide-leg jeans and my most comfortable boots. I didn’t want any itchy tags or annoying seams to distract me from Ernesto.
Or the case. Solving the murder was definitely the most important thing.
When I rounded the corner to Cupid’s Confections, Ernesto came into view, leaning casually against the wall, looking more amazing in jeans and a hoodie than anyone had the right to.
He pushed off the wall and smiled at me. “Hey, Anne,” he said, his voice a little huskier than normal. My heart may have actually skipped a beat. This man was exquisite.
“Hey,” I said, trying to keep my cool even as a slow blush warmed my cheeks.
The aroma of cinnamon, yeast, and melted sugar wafting from Cupid’s Confections smelled almost as heavenly as Ernesto looked. He opened the door and the chime jingled like sleigh bells. The inside of the bakery had been decorated for the season since I’d been in last. Little Christmas lights hanging from the walls flickered in time to soft Christmas music, and an enchanted train made of baked goods traveled around the room on a track high above.
A Bennet sister with long brown hair stood at the front counter, Lydia, if I wasn’t mistaken. “Good morning,” she said to me, but her eyes lit up when they fell upon Neto. “Hi Ernesto.”
He smiled back, but it was the pleasant, more subdued smile from the posters and the videos, and a warm satisfaction curled up in my stomach. A timer beeped from the back room and Lydia hurried out of sight.
Mrs. Bennet came forward, wiping powdered sugar on an apron that looked like Mrs. Claus’s dress. “Good morning, Anne.” She eyed Neto up and down, no doubt measuring him up as a potential partner for one of her daughters. “It’s nice to see you again, Ernesto; I was so pleased to hear that your band moved to town.”
Mrs. Bennet was one of those people who could hear a name once and remember it forever—as long as it was attached to a piece of gossip. “What can I get for the two of you? I’ve got a lemon balm tea with honey that’s enchanted to soothe and protect your voice. Or an eggnog that’s spelled to bring back the feeling of waking up on Christmas morning as a child.”
As lovely as that sounded, I wanted to savor the feeling of being here with Ernesto without any magical interference. “I’ll take your candy cane hot cocoa and one of those,” I said, gesturing to a breakfast sandwich.
“And for you?” she asked, turning to Ernesto.
“Tell me about that model train.”
“Oh, that’s a good choice,” Mrs. Bennet said. “My daughter Kitty came up with the idea.”
