Rosalie pouted. “It’s that Bennet girl, isn’t it?”
“Do you really want to spend your life with someone who doesn’t love you? You deserve more than that. We both deserve more than that.” I’d marry Rosalie if she insisted, but she needed to understand the truth. If Rosalie rejected me, she could release me from my bargain with her mother.
Her brows drew together in thought, but then she sighed. “I guess you’re right. Being queen sounded so glamorous, but after seeing what you had to deal with here today with the council…” She shrugged. “It looked like a considerable amount was put on you to act just right, and I don’t want that.”
“It can be a lot of work and pressure.”
“Plus, I was only trying to make my parents happy. You know who I think is super attractive? Brexton.”
“The junior pastor?”
“Yeah. I saw him at one of the activities a couple days ago. He has such a nice smile.” She blushed a little. “Okay, fine.Honestly? You’re kinda stiff and severe. I don’t want to marry you. I reject our engagement.”
A lightness lifted off my shoulders, as if someone had taken a sack of bricks from them. “Thank you. We’ll both be much happier this way.”
She let out a short, nervous laugh. “Now I have to tell my parents.”
“They may not like it, but remind them that the decision is mutual, and they’ll come around.” I hoped. I hadn’t missed how Mrs. Trent had backed me in getting the vote taken and in becoming king. Once she discovered that her daughter and I had decided not to get married, it probably was the last time she’d vote for anything that I suggested.
Rosalie smiled. “I want something real anyway, not something that feels forced. Like what you have with Lizzy.”
I opened my mouth, unsure of what to say. “I—”
“Ah, don’t deny it. I wish you luck.” She waved as she sauntered down the street.
The next morning, I read over the note from Lizzy a final time as I finished packing my bags. She’d dropped the message off last night before I got home. I held the queen chess piece in my hand that she’d sent with it.
Have fun with your new queen. Thanks again for everything. I wish you well in your future endeavors.
So simple and formal. Hardly a confession of love. But what was I expecting? I was lucky we were still friends after everything my family had done to hers. Part of me wanted to text her and tell her I was no longer engaged, but I didn’t want to presume it mattered to her. Besides, the news would get around to her soon enough. This was Austen Heights after all, where gossip spread faster than wildfire.
I lifted my suitcase, snatched up my laptop bag, and headed downstairs. I set my luggage by the door and swung into the kitchen where Georgiana, Henry, Charles, Jane, Lydia and Wickham sat sharing breakfast together.
“You’re going to Pemberley on Valentine’s Day?” Wickham demanded. “Can’t I talk you into staying?”
“There’s work to complete. I need to ensure that the new batches of potions for Moonrot are done correctly before they’re administered.”
“Darcy, the council is here. Work won’t get started on that until at least tomorrow.” Charles frowned at me. “Come to Club Meryton with us tonight.”
Georgiana set down her mug of steaming tea. “Everyone will be there celebrating the fact that we found the cure. You were instrumental in that. You should be there.”
I looked around at all the couples at the table. The last thing I wanted to be was a seventh wheel on Valentine’s Day. I wished them well and desired happiness for every one of them, but being with them today would only make me feel more alone. “No thanks. It’s better for me to go.” I gave Georgiana a hug and gazed into her eyes. She offered me a small nod to tell me she was okay.
With that reassurance, I turned and headed for the door. I reached for my luggage when the front doors of Netherfield burst open.
Aunt Catherine bustled in, her expression meaning business. “Come, my nephew, we must speak.”
I stumbled back, letting my bags drop to the floor. “Good morning, Aunt Catherine.”
“Don’t good morning me, boy, I’m in no mood. Now come.”
She marched into the back sitting area, and noticing my friends in the adjoining kitchen, shooed them away. Georgiana cast me a worried glance and mouthed, “Good luck.”
Aunt Catherine seemed to be in a state. Was this about my breakup with Rosalie? I likely ought to have departed when the opportunity presented itself.
She set herself down in a chair, shoulders back, and looked around the room. “The decor here is quite outdated. You should ask Caroline to do a makeover. Isn’t she Charles’s sister? I’m surprised she hasn’t already.”
“Netherfield has a mind of its own.” In fact, I’d seen Caroline redecorate this room several times, but there were just certain aspects that the house kept switching back into place. “Aunt Catherine, it’s good to see you. But from the way you burst in and demanded that we speak, I’m assuming there’s something you want to talk with me about?”
