Lady Aislinn brushed against her. “The one just behind the king on the left, the young fellow dressed all in black, is Oberon’s son, of whom we have spoken.”
He looked young, but it was difficult to tell when none of the Sidhe seemed to age beyond a certain point. His resemblance to his father was striking, and he reminded her of someone else, too, but she could not remember another Sidhe with that look. The curl of his lip – did that mean he scorned this gathering, or was it simply his usual expression? She would trust him no more than she trusted his father.
Titania spread her arms. “Come, the moon is rising. Let us dance!”
Everyone was taking hands and forming small circles. Elizabeth tried to step away, but Lady Aislinn caught her hand. “You must dance, or you insult our king and queen.”
“But I do not know the dance.” But she had thought she did not know the Faerie queen, either.
“You will learn as we go. Come.”
Elizabeth cast a look of amused desperation at Frederica, who took her other hand. “Very well. If I make a fool of myself, at least there is no one else here who knows me.”
That had to be the exact moment she saw a familiar face.
It could not be. George Wickham stood across the circle from her, red coat and all. What could he possibly be doing in Faerie? She looked away quickly. Perhaps he would not recognize her. With her hair loose and draped in flowers, she did not look like Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn.
The musicians struck up a tune with fiddles, flutes, drums, and an instrument she could not identify. Elizabeth tried to watch Lady Aislinn’s steps, and the pattern quickly became clear – step to the side, hop, put her left foot behind her right and step twice, hop. She could manage this, even if she lacked the grace of the sprites and dryads.
But could she manage George Wickham?
How could he be here? Wickham had told her he had trained as a mage, but nothing about fay connections. She now knew the truth about Wickham and his history of lies and deception, but he would not be aware of that. He would still consider her to be his friend. This was not the time to confront him about his lies.
The music sped up and so did the dancers. They moved faster and faster until it took every bit of her concentration to keep from falling over her own feet. It was a relief when the music finally stopped with a clash of cymbals.
Gasping for breath, Elizabeth leaned towards Lady Frederica. “I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
But it was already too late. Wickham’s smooth voice – how had she ever thought it pleasing? – said, “Miss Elizabeth, this is a most unexpected pleasure. You have been keeping secrets from me.”
She turned slowly to face him. “I might say the same of you, sir.” She smiled to make it seem like teasing flirtation.
“To think of the many times I mentioned the fay to you, and you never showed any sign of interest! I am impressed.”
Trust Wickham to be impressed by what would seem to be lying by omission. “How do you come to be in Faerie, Mr. Wickham?”
His smile was self-deprecating. “I am half fay, as you must have guessed, and Prince Aelfric is my liege lord. But you would have already known that. My prince has also been playing his cards close to his chest.”
What on earth did he mean by that? “The prince’s liege man andwearing the uniform of King George’s militia?”
His smile displayed his perfect, even teeth. “The prince has been very helpful to me in certain matters pertaining to someone we both dislike. I joined the militia on his orders. The ladies of Faerie are as fond of a red coat as any Englishwoman.”
“I thought you decided to join after an accidental meeting with Mr. Denny.”
“I put myself in his way. It gave me an easy excuse to be in Meryton so I could become acquainted with your family.”
Startled, she said, “My family? Why would you have any interest in us?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Not I, but my prince. And his interest is self-evident.”
“Not to me.” The knowledge was a sour taste in her mouth. Not only had he lied to her, but he had used her to meet her family. How could she even pretend to flirt with him?
“Is that so? I find that difficult to believe.”
“I assure you it is the truth.”
His expression grew puzzled. “You truly do not know, do you?”
