“Time!” Brexton shouted.
I took off my blindfold and gazed at my creation. The lines coming out of the supposed Ferris wheel were clumped on one side of the cupcake. “It’s not that bad.”
“Sure, sure. If you were drawing a sun exploding over a sugar factory,” Lizzy teased.
I couldn’t resist smiling. “Some might say that the apprentice is only as skilled as his master’s instructions.”
“Unless the apprentice is a lost cause.”
“Am I a lost cause, Elizabeth Bennet?” I meant it as a joke, but a small, desperate part of me craved her response on a deeper level.
She gazed down at the cake and bit her lip as if she were gazing at the meaning behind a Van Gogh instead of my wonky cake decorating skills. She scooped a tiny amount of frosting off the cake with her finger. “I used to think lost causes were just that, lost. But now I believe that there’s always room for redemption.”
“How did you do?” Charlotte asked. “Brexton is our judge! Who is the winner, Brexton?”
Brexton grinned. “For the cupcake decorating contest, the winners are Caroline and Jack.”
I glanced over at their design, which held an image of a well-crafted disco ball and even a dance floor to go with it. I had to admit they deserved first place.
“Next is a three-legged race over by the Cupid’s Confections stand.”
Sir Walter and Lady Denham headed over, and I motioned to Lizzy. I moved so that we were right behind them and cleared my throat. “Good morning, Sir Walter, Lady Denham.”
Sir Walter turned in surprise. “Your Highn—”
I coughed loudly and fixed him with a stern stare.
“I mean Darcy,” Sir Walter said with a grimace. Before I arrived at Austen Heights, I’d made sure the entire council knew not to reveal my identity. Anyone who knew me before they came to Austen Heights would see through my glamour. That included the members of the council, my family and friends. Lizzy saw through my glamour as well since I’d revealed my true identity to her.
“How are you?” Sir Walter asked, recovering. “I see you’re as bad at cupcake decorating as we are.”
“We may be bad at cake decorating, but we’ll win this one,” Lizzy said, taking a heart-shaped balloon from her sister Mary.
“Use this to tie around your ankle,” Mary said.
“Although don’t count us older folk out,” said Lady Denham. “Perhaps we’re slower, but we have had years to practice moving in sync.”
“We don’t doubt it,” I said amiably.
“I’ll go get our balloon, sweetheart.” Lady Denham wiggled her fingers at Sir Walter.
“If you don’t mind Sir Walter, I wanted to ask you about something a bit more serious,” I said while observing Charlotte and Pastor Collins struggle to get their balloons tied around their ankles.
“Oh? And what is that?” Sir Walter asked.
“On the evening my mom and dad passed away, you were in a meeting with them, correct?”
He frowned. “John Rittle came after me. He was the last to see them alive.”
“Yes, I’m aware,” I said. As Lizzy tied the heart-shaped balloon around our ankles, I held still, and I could tell by her slow, precise movements that she was listening. “Did you notice anything else the night you met with them? Anything strange or off?”
“Strange? What do you mean? Are you suspecting foul play?”
Sir Walter jumped to that conclusion awfully fast. I hid my suspicion. “I’m not sure,” I hedged. “I’m double-checking with anyone who had contact with them that night.”
“Well, it was kind of odd. You see, your parents had this greenish tint around their fingernails.”
“They did?”
