Inside my head, a raven sighed.
Chapter Five
“Oh dear. It’s all very strange.” Lydia sat in the window seat opposite the Classics shelves where she had first appeared. She waved a fan in her face. It was difficult to tell under her makeup, but she looked pale and frightened, although she hid it well with her pouting expression. “I don’t much enjoy books, and to discover I am a character in one is a horrible tragedy!”
“You’ll get used to it,” Morrie cooed. “You’ll also find many things about this world to be an improvement over Longbourn. For one thing, the takeout food is infinitely better. Have you ever had a rogan josh? It’sdivine– the food of the gods.”
“You mean to tell me I won’t see my Wickham again? Or my parents or sisters? I admit that Mary’s a frightful bore, but I will probably miss Kitty. And how am I to keep myself? I have no money with me, no fortune of my own.” She cast a critical eye between Morrie and Heathcliff. “I see no wedding bands. You are both bachelors, and handsome enough. One of you must do the honorable thing and marry me. I demand it!”
Yup, Lydia’s really cut up about losing her beloved paramour.
“You don’t need a husband in this world,” I said. “This thing called feminism happened, and now women are able to make their own living and choose their own future. We can have a career and make our own money, so we don’t need husbands—”
“Women have no husbands? They havejobs? What nonsense is this?” Lydia’s shriek shook the window panes. She waved her gloved hands in front of my face. “These fingers are not made for labor! They are for sensuous caresses of my husband’s shoulders and slapping the cheeks of impertinent servants!”
“We also don’t have servants anymore—”
“No servants? You cook your own meals and turn down your own beds?” Lydia fanned her face, her expression what could only be described as ‘aghast’. “I’ve been in this world but two hours and already I long to return to the mediocrity of Longbourn!”
“That’s not possible, so get used to it.” Heathcliff’s patience had already worn thin.
“Youcanhave a husband if you want one,” I said, trying not to give her the wrong idea. “It’s just that you don’t have to think about it now. Most people wait until they’re older. You’re only sixteen, right? You could go to school and—”
“Who wants to go to school? I’ve had quite enough of books from my sister Lizzie. Ishallhave a husband. If Wickham is lost forever, then one of you shall have to step up. But which will it be? I shan't like to live in this dingy house, and a shopkeeper’s living will not keep me in the manner in which I intend to become accustomed. So Mr. Heathcliff is out of the question.” With a wave of her hand, Lydia disregarded literature’s greatest romantic hero and turned her gaze to the criminal mastermind. “You, then, Mr. Moriarty. What sort of fortune do you command?”
Morrie laughed. “Darling, I think you’re a little young for me.”
“I’m not too young, and I am already out.”
“Out? Out where?”
“Out in society, you fool. You may be handsome, but you’re terribly simple.” Lydia smirked at me. “No wonder Mina here has no clue how to dress like a lady.”
I stared down at the Misfits hoodie I’d hastily pulled over my pajama bottoms. “What’s wrong with this outfit?”
The shop bell tinkled. “Bloody hell,” Heathcliff yelled at Morrie. “I told you to flip the sign while we dealt with this!”
“But where’s the fun in that?”
“Don’t worry.” I held up my hands. “I’ll deal with it.”
“Please,” Morrie clasped his hands to his chest. “Don’t leave me alone with her.”
“Sorry. She’s your future wife and your responsibility. Me and my unladylike attire have to go and do our job.” I shut the door to the Classics room in Morrie’s face and strolled into the hallway to meet our customer.
“Cynthia, hello.” I plastered on the biggest smile as I recognized Cynthia Lachlan, member of the infamous Banned Book Club and wife of big shot developer Grey Lachlan. I hadn’t seen Cynthia since the unfortunate day her friend Gladys Scarlett died of arsenic poisoning right here in the shop. “Welcome back to Nevermore Bookshop. What can I do for you today?”
“Mina, you’re exactly the woman I wanted to see,” Cynthia gushed, grabbing my hands in hers and squeezing my fingers. Her wrists jangled with gold bracelets. “I came by to thank you again for cracking poor Gladys’ murder. Grey and I would still be locked up in that rotten police cell if it weren’t for you.”
Because Cynthia and her husband (who I’d never managed to meet) stood to gain by Gladys’ death, and Grey had access to arsenic through his construction contacts, the police had them in custody under suspicion of Mrs. Scarlett’s murder until I solved the case for them. “Please, there’s no reason to thank me. I wanted to find out the truth and—”
“Nonsense. You’ve done me a good turn, and I want to make sure you have compensation.” Cynthia fished around in her purse and pulled out an envelope. “I know how much you love books and reading. We’re hosting the first Argleton Jane Austen Experience at Baddesley Hall. You might’ve heard about it?”
“A little bit, yes.” I choked back a laugh. Mrs. Ellis had been talking about nothing else for the last week. According to her, the Lachlans spared no expense for their extravagant event. The VIP tickets cost thousands of pounds each and included accommodation at the house and cuisine from a Michelin-star chef they flew in from Paris.
“Tickets sold out months ago, of course. But there are certain privileges to running the event.” Cynthia pressed the envelope into my hand. “Grey and I would be honored if you and your three lovely friends would attend the Jane Austen Experience as our VIPs. These tickets will get you an all-access pass to all the events, a beautiful suite with two double rooms at Baddesley Hall for the weekend, meals, and a seat at our table for the ball on Saturday night.”
“Oh, um…”
