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Chapter One

"Oh, bother! I cannot see a thing. It's just swirling colours and shapes. Are we doing it properly? Jane, will you check the book again?"

"Lydia, you have been looking in that mirror for a full fifteen minutes. If you have not seen your future husband by now, you never shall," said Kitty.

"Girls, please lower your voices. None of us shall be finding husbands if we are discovered by Papa, who will be most displeased to find us all out of bed and practising some sort of witchcraft. Not that there is any truth in it." Elizabeth shook her head. "I still have no notion how you got your hands on this silly book."

She waved a small volume bound in brown leather, with an aged and rather dusty appearance. On the front, printed in neat gold lettering, were the words A Short History of English Folk Magic.

"I have told you," said Lydia, continuing to gaze at herself in the mirror, the candlelight flickering around her. "I bought it from an old lady who has the sight. She lives in a cottage just outside Meryton and will read your palm for sixpence. I paid all my pin money for this book. It is a mystical artefact." She drew out the last two words dramatically.

"I think it is much more likely, Lydia, that the old charlatan saw you coming," said Mary stiffly. "She probably picked it up in a second-hand bookshop for pennies and proceeded to stain the pages with tea and cover it in dust."

"Oh la, you are absolutely no fun whatsoever. Do you not want to see who your boring old future husband is?"

Mary chose, wisely, to turn the other cheek and said nothing in response, only a creeping colour up her neck betraying her annoyance.

The book that Lydia had so gleefully shared with her sisters was a hodgepodge of strange concoctions, old traditions and supposed spells. The one that had caught their youngest sister's attention was, of course, concerned with finding a husband. It stated that if an unmarried woman looked into a mirror by candlelight during the midnight hour on All Hallows' Eve, she would see the image of her future beau.

"Oh!" cried Lydia suddenly. "I think I saw a bit of red. Do you think that means I am destined to marry an officer?"

"It is surely my turn." Kitty managed, impressively, to whine in a low whisper.

"Yes, dearest," said Jane gently. "We all need to get some sleep at some point too, Lydia. Let Kitty have her turn."

Kitty gazed into the looking-glass for around ten minutes, declaring that she could see a pair of lovely brown eyes but nothing else, and then Jane took her place. "I am not sure it is working for me. I see sparks of gold, but that is about all."

"It must be Mr Bingley's blond hair!" declared Lydia.

"I am not sure that is the case, dear," said Jane with a gentle smile. "Mary, would you like to take a turn?"

"I shall not be engaging in such sacrilegious practices," said Mary primly. "It is all a load of old rot anyway. Just an old lady who has swindled Lydia out of her pin money."

"It is only a little fun, dearest," said Jane consolingly.

"She is just jealous because she knows that if she looked into the mirror, she would see nothing but her own haggard face, because she is destined to be a spinster forever," declared Lydia.

"That is quite enough," said Elizabeth firmly. "This was meant to be a silly treat on All Hallows' Eve, not an excuse to be horrible to each other. I think it would be best if everyone went to bed."

"But you have not taken your turn, Lizzy," protested Kitty.

"And I shall not," said Elizabeth firmly. "I would prefer my future heart's desire to be a complete surprise. Falling in love should be an adventure. It takes half the fun out of it if you know who it is going to be ahead of time."

"Oh, Lizzy," said Jane, gently suppressing a small chuckle.

"Well, this is the thanks I get for trying to help my sisters," said Lydia with a superior sniff. "And now I shall go and get my beauty sleep. I need to be looking my finest if I am to capture an officer and my future love at Mr Bingley's masquerade ball tomorrow."

"Yes, yes, get along with you," Elizabeth encouraged, feeling a headache starting to form behind her eyes.

Her three younger sisters trooped from the room in very different attitudes. Lydia went with her head raised, triumphant in the knowledge that she was surely destined to secure the man of her dreams. Kitty trailed after her, a little more uncertain, while Mary walked demurely, an expression of pained resignation upon her face, as if being in the company of such silly girls was her own personal cross to bear.

When they had all departed, Jane closed the door gently and pressed her back against it. "Well, that was something."

"Something is certainly the word for it. A ridiculous notion is what I would call it. Now, would you like me to unpin your hair and braid it for you?"

"In a moment," said Jane, a small, secret smile forming upon her lips. "I think you should take your turn."

"Jane!" Elizabeth sighed. "I do not need to take my turn. I know perfectly well what I shall see if I look in that mirror, and that is myself looking very tired indeed. We have a ball to attend tomorrow, and although I do not suppose I shall meet my future husband, given the general quality of men in our neighbourhood, I would prefer not to look like a haggard old lady."