“Darcy!” I hollered, but his attention had already moved away from me to Wickham, his face turning bright red at the sight of him.
My assailant had now managed to haul me into the alley, her hand tight on my wrist. Only when we were out of sight from the group did she release me and push her bonnet back to reveal her face. As she did, I let out a gasp.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Who are you, and how the shitting hell did you get here?” the woman said, in what was definitely not Jane Austen’s English.
I didn’t answer, staring at her in shock. What was the redheaded woman from the photo on Nick’s desk doing here? Because it was definitely her, slightly older and less dewy faced in the flesh, but undoubtedly the same fiery red hair and bright-blue eyes. Those eyes were staring urgently at me now.
“Tell me, how did you get here? Because I know you’re not from the story.”
I swallowed. “I’m Zoe and I read myself in by accident. How didyouget here? I’ve seen your photo before, at Baskerville Books.”
At this, the woman’s face went pale. “Baskerville Books is still going?”
“It is, and I know you’re the woman who broke the owner’s heart.”
She staggered as if I’d hit her. “You know my Nick?”
I’ll be honest with you, this pissed me off. I know I might sound petty, but I suspected this was the woman who’d so devastatingly hurtNick that he’d turned into a romance-novel-loathing cynic, and yet she had the audacity to call himhers.
“I do know him, actually,” I said as I crossed my arms, which was easier said than done in my silly, restrictive dress.
“How is he?”
I was going to tell her it was none of her business, but she was looking at me so imploringly that I couldn’t bring myself to be rude.
“Nick’s OK,” I said, remembering the way he’d clung to my hand like he was Kate Winslet on the floating door inTitanicand I was Leonardo diCaprio sinking into the sea. I shook my head to dislodge the image. “Who are you, anyway? Were the two of you a couple?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No! I’m Maggie, his mum.”
Now I was the one to stagger. “But…you’re dead!”
As I said this, I thought back to my conversations with Nick about his mum. I remember him saying she was no longer around and that he’d lost her eight years ago, but now that I came to think of it, I wasn’t sure he’d ever actually said she’d died—that was just the conclusion I’d jumped to.
“You’re not dead!” I said, so loudly that Maggie signaled me to keep my voice down. “But what happened? Did you get stuck here too?”
She nodded. “Yes and I’ve never been able to get out. I’m not even sure how long I’ve been here; time works weirdly in this place, it’s circular. What year is it in our world?”
“2026.”
Her face fell. “My God, it’s been eight years.”
“But how did you get trapped here? Nick told me you were really experienced at reading characters in and out of books. He said you’d done it hundreds of times.”
“I had, but I allowed my heart to get involved, and one day I made a stupid mistake.”
Her heart? Did that mean… “Oh crap, were you in love with Darcy too?”
She looked at me sharply. “Darcy? God, no!”
“Bingley, then?”
“No!”
Ew, did that mean she was a Mr. Wickham fan? Well, I supposed there was no accounting for taste.
Maggie tilted up her chin. “I fell in love with Elizabeth, actually.”
