“I wish I knew why we weren’t able to replicate your results with Mr. Bennet. Do you have any updates?” A week or so ago, he’d texted me that he and Jane had tried a remedy that made Mr. Bennet a lot better. I’d flown into Austen Heights from Venice to explore, but trying it a second time hadn’t really done anything for Mr. Bennet.
“No. It really seemed to help when we first did it, but maybe I was mistaken because he’s worse now.”
Still, there had to be something there. Some mix of the tonic Jane used and Charles’s magic. “I’m close to finding the cure, I hope.” I wasn’t sure if I was close, but with the list I’d created, I had to be. I prayed I was for the Bennet’s sake and for the sake of everyone else with Moonrot. It was time we found a solution.
“I can’t imagine not having Mr. Bennet at our wedding. It would seem all wrong,” Charles said sadly.
My friend had proposed to Jane Bennet around the same time that I came to town to check on Charles’s progress with Mr. Bennet. I’d been so wrong about Charles and Jane’s feelings for each other for the past several months. But thanks to Lizzy, I’d seen the truth. Now Charles and Jane were together, and I couldn’t be happier for them.
My hands drew into fists and a fire of determination welled in me. “We’ll figure this out.”
We drove into Austen Heights. The trees lining the roadside appeared to be dusted with frost, but as we passed them, the “ice” glinted warm gold and melted into sparkles. Locals called it heartshine, a harmless seasonal magic that clung to anythingtouched by affection—even the branches hummed with it. The sign into Austen Heights was newly adorned with looping ribbons that tied and untied themselves playfully.
The charm of the town wasn’t lost on me. At first I thought it overdone, like a male bird showing off its plumage to an uninterested female, but over time the small community had grown on me. It was a unique town where the Marked—those with magic—could live and use their powers freely. We even had Unmarked—unmagical humans who lived among us—although they completely forgot about magic once they crossed over the town line to leave.
Strings of lanterns drifted overhead—not hung, butfloating—softly bobbing as if moved by a breeze you couldn’t feel. Each lantern glowed a different shade of pink or red and lit up the town in the darkness.
A faint scent of cocoa and rose petals slipped in through my cracked window. Somewhere deeper in town, a violin played a lilting tune—sweet, slow, and tinged with enchantment.
It had taken about four hours to fly to Maine and drive from the airport. The sun had long disappeared beneath the horizon. As we pulled into the roundabout in front of Netherfield Manor, the mansion came into view. Netherfield was a sizable home trimmed in red lights and draped with garlands, miniature heart-shaped cutouts drifting gently along the porch rail animated by magic rather than wind. I’d long suspected that the magical house decorated itself whenever it felt festive.
We walked into the spacious entryway. The ornaments that tended to hang on the large chandelier overhead had been replaced with crystals shaped like miniature cupids, complete with bows and arrows. The moment the door shut, Jane and Lizzy came rushing from the rear of the house.
“Oh, I didn’t realize you were here,” Charles said as he stepped forward to give Jane a hug.
Lizzy and I stood off to the side in awkward silence, and yet I found I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She wore a large sweater and had her hair pulled up in a ponytail. A few wispy dark brown hairs framed her face. I couldn’t help but notice the worry in her soft, deep blue eyes.
Jane’s phone rang, and she quickly answered. “Hello? Oh, Lydia… the play?” Her cheeks flushed as she glanced at me and Lizzy, then said quietly, “Now isn’t a good time.”
Charles stepped forward. “We’ll head to the sitting room and let you two get started,” he said, flashing his classic easy grin.
They quickly moved out of the main foyer.
“That was strange,” Lizzy said, watching them disappear.
“I didn’t expect you to be here.” I recalled the last time we stood in this foyer. It had been at the Netherfield Halloween Party that Caroline had thrown. I lost a bet with Caroline, so I had to come dressed as Batman. Lizzy and I had argued then. We’d seen things so differently, or maybe we’d seen things the same, but we both just willfully misunderstood the other’s good intentions.
“There’s no time to waste,” she said.
“Yes,” I said. “Will you come upstairs?” The room where I usually met with people when conducting business away from Pemberley was a nice sitting area that Netherfield had created for me on the second floor.
We walked into the room that normally had two high-backed chairs and a fireplace. I halted and stared in shock.
The two chairs that sat near the fireplace had been swapped out for one short loveseat. A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, and vases of roses dotted the mantle and tables. Some rose petals unapologetically adorned the loveseat and the floor where a large cozy quilt made of sewn hearts rested.
I cleared my throat. “This isn’t what the room usually looks like,” I said. “It looks as if Netherfield decided to redecorate.”
“This will work fine,” she said with a small shrug, and we walked into the room. She took a seat, and I sat next to her, leaving plenty of space. I leaned over to pull my laptop out of its case and caught a whiff of her flowery perfume. I breathed it in—subtle and familiar.
My laptop balanced on my knees. Lizzy scooted closer to see the screen, and her warmth washed over me.
I opened the file labeled “Moonrot.” “I have two lists here. One lists everyone who has died because of Moonrot, and the second is the known cases of Moonrot. The first person to die of Moonrot was in Austen Heights.”
She nodded and leaned forward to read the lists, brushing my shoulder as she did so. “Which is what brought you here in the first place.”
“Yes.” I endeavored not to react to her touch or nearness. I’d rushed out here without another thought, not considering how constantly being in her presence and pretending there was nothing between us might be its own kind of torture.
But I’d endure it because Lizzy needed my help.
