“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.
“I’ve never told anyone what happened that night.” He looked down, a sad smile coming to his lips as his hand covered mine. “So there you go, Mary. I may be a flirt, but now I’ve given you a piece of me I’ve never given to anyone.”
After an hour of stirring the potion, I led Frank up and out of the chapel. This time Collins, with his door shut, didn’t catch wind of our sneaking.
We slipped out the church doors into the cool autumn air. “We’ll need to meet here every other day,” I said. “Bring fresh wolfsbane.”
“I will. Until then, Mary, Mary, quite contrary.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips. The tender caress against my skin sent a small thrill rippling through me.
I watched him walk away. Despite everything, he had a lightness to his step like a man without a care in the world.
A mixture of wet and dried leaves littered the sidewalk. I slushed my feet through them as I went home. Duchess scurried ahead of me, chasing after a fluttering dry leaf. My phone vibrated in my pocket and I drew it out, my heart doing a small flip when I saw Frank’s name.
In a gentle way, you can shake the world. -Ghandi
You have shaken mine for the better. Thank you, Mary.
I couldn’t stop the smile stretching across my face, and I walked with a skip in my step the remainder of the trip home.
The store buzzed with the typical late afternoon activity. Duchess leapt onto the counter and sniffed at the different decorated goodies set out to tempt customers. Kitty and Lydia ran the shop, one at the register, the other sorting through supplies in the kitchen. The annual autumn bake-off was coming soon, and we would need to make extra of everything for the big town event held at Regency Meadows Park.
Mom sat at a small side table, deep in gossip. Ms. Bates was next to her, needles in hand as she worked on her knitting.
Mrs. Long, Mom’s long-time frenemy, also was with them, a cup of steaming tea in her hands. Her blonde hair was pulled back, accentuating her sharp features. She owned a fashion boutique in town. It looked as if Mom and Mrs. Long were currently getting along, however that would end soon with the annual bake-off approaching. Every year they inevitably became the worst of enemies for up to two months after the event as they both ridiculed each other’s prized entries.
But that was still almost two weeks away. And this year Mom was a judge, so hopefully that might tone down their competitiveness.
“I’m telling you, any day now Jane and Bingley will be engaged,” Mom said. “And not a moment too soon. Finances have become precarious.”
“Oh, I can see how anxious you have been these past few months,” Ms. Bates remarked, patting Mom’s hand.
“Yes, my poor nerves areextremelyfrazzled these days,” Mom said.
“But the business of a wedding is hardly tonic for frazzled nerves,” Mrs. Long pointed out while sipping her tea.
Mom nodded. “It's true. But you know me, I’d do anything for my daughters.”
Or their social standing in the eyes of the fae, I thought. Lighting my trusty fae power, I was able to sneak past them and my sisters into the rear of the house before releasing it.
The bakery was popular, but it still only made enough to cover the bills, especially with the three of us daughters living at home. I paused in the entrance to Dad’s room.He lay sleeping, a curl of graying hair falling over his pale face.
If what Mom said was true, I hadn’t realized that finances had become so dire. But Mom had been paying for medicines from the Ravenswoods and visits from the doctor with various results. My heart twisted. What if we ran out of money? Who would pay for Dad’s treatments?
My father adored reading and books, like me. There had been a time I thought we might connect over that, but his interest didn’t lie where mine did, in old texts and religious writings. Those bored him, and whenever I’d tried to engage him in serious discussion about the fate of our souls or the destiny of our races, he’d only laughed at me, brushing my concerns aside. But he was still my dad, and I loved him. Seeing him in such a state left us all feeling a bit unstable, as if at any moment the floor would be pulled out from under us.
Voices in the living room brought my curiosity to the forefront. Maybe I’d sneak a peek through the kitchen door before heading upstairs.
Lizzy was talking to someone.
“Darcy seems like this polished high fae who’d never do anything wrong,” a man’s voice said. “But lesser fae and witches are nothing more than trash in his eyes.”
Lizzy moved her recording device to her lips. “Interview with George Wickham, part one complete.”
George Wickham? I’d thought I’d need to beg Lizzy to set up a meeting, but here he was. I bolted into the living room where Whickham sat in a brown suede jacket and blue jeans on our couch.
My sister cast me a startled glance. As she placed the recording device on the coffee table, she said, “George, this is my sister, Mary. Mary, this is George. He’s new to town.”
A grin stretched over his handsome face. He reached out a hand. “Pleased to meet you, Mary.”
