“How long hadyou been together?” I wondered, trying to establish a timeline.
“Maybe a couple of months. I honestly thought he really liked me. Gavin was always asking me questions about my family, the inn, and what events we might have here." Sheshrugged, as though that could mask the hurt those words implied.
I tried not to notice it. “I understand he took all of the money from the ticket sales, and the charity box money. Did he pay any of the vendors?”
Lydia shook her head. “No, we had to pay them. He said he was going to take care of things and would give us the balance. He even said his portion of work would be for free. He was a liar. I wish I hadn’t met him.”
She crossed her arms, holding onto herself. Her shoulders slumped slightly. “He used me.”
“He used you to gain access to the inn” I said carefully. “You trusted him. He exploited that trust. That is not the same thing as being foolish.”
She looked at me, eyes bright with something close to humiliation. “I should have seen it.”
“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe he was good at what he did.”
Silence settled between us.
“I think he saw an opportunity,” I continued. “If not you, it would have been someone else. This is what he does and the SnowDrop Inn hasn’t been his first victim.”
She nodded slowly. “I thought I was helping my family.”
“You were trying to,” I said. “That matters.”
She let out a breath she had been holding.
“I will continue reviewing the file,” I said. “If anything else comes up, I will let you know.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
I was shown to a room upstairs, warm and simple and not mine. As I set my bag down, I thought of my cold, dark house and the water that had pooled on the kitchen floor.
Control, I had learned, was always temporary.
I could hear laughter in the hallways as someone passed by. The flyer by the bed advertised the services of the inn, includingbreakfast which I realized I hadn’t eaten. I thought about how the loss of a substantial amount of money must have affected the Bennet family.
And Lydia Bennet, looking so sad and disappointed in the man whom she had trusted.
This stay was not going to be simple.
Chapter Five: A Proposal Of Sorts
Lydia
I told myself I was finished thinking about Gavin Wickham.
That was a lie, but it was a comforting one, and I repeated it while carrying a stack of mismatched plates from the sitting room to the kitchen. The Snowdrop Inn had settled into its evening rhythm, which meant the day’s chaos had not ended so much as changed shape. Tools were stacked where they didn’t belong. A ladder leaned against the wall like it was waiting for instructions. Someone had left a tape measure on the mantle of the fireplace again, which felt less like an accident and more like a personality trait. I gathered the odds and ends, putting them in a box at the lobby desk so that little hands and guests wouldn’t do something silly with them before going back to get another stack of plates.
The smell of something baked hovered in the air. Jane had been experimenting again, which meant the results would either be excellent or require a diplomatic explanation.
I set the plates beside the sink and stared at my reflection in the darkened window above it. The glass caught my face at an angle, tired and thoughtful, brow furrowed in a way that suggested I was thinking far too hard about something that couldn’t be undone.
Gavin was not gone in the way I wanted him to be gone.
Not because he was present, but because he had left me feeling like I was to blame for the entire episode. I had finally stopped checking my phone to see if he might callback or text. That Gavin might just tell me it had all been a misunderstanding and a mistake. He would return the money and it would be accepted that I had organized the Christmas dance with success.
Of course, that wasn’t the truth.
Instead I had invited a thief to the inn, giving him every opportunity to steal from us. It was my fault.
