Near the door, antique-style candelabras sat on a vintage lace-covered console table that filled the spacious entryway, their flickering candles casting dancing shadows. An ornate mirror framed with faux vines of deep red and orange leaves lingered next to an old coat rack. Onthe floor, plush velvet throw rugs in rich, dark colors lay scattered about, with carved floating pumpkins of varying sizes and a few lanterns lit by fairy magic dotting the space.
Lydia and Kitty gasped with delight. I was never comfortable in places that dared to be grander than the simple church where we worshipped the sacred. A fae man in a tux walked up and asked for our coats. Mom and the others shrugged out of theirs, but I kept mine on, hoping nobody would notice.
“Mary, stop being rude and give the pleasant fellow your coat,” Mom said.
Reluctantly, I followed suit, wrapping my arms around myself, missing its weight and warmth. My fingers glided across my book’s cover, appreciating the comfort it offered amongst so many strangers.
“Now remember, whatever happens, don’t get in the way of Jane and Charles,” Mom whispered to the three of us.
I pressed my lips together. “You know the rest of us matter, too.”
“Of course you do, Mary. It’s just…” Mom allowed her voice to trail off.
Just not as much as Jane, who would soon claim a high fae and legitimize our status in society.
Lizzy met us in the entryway, wearing a sleek ebony dress with a flared skirt, a pointy hat, and a flowing cape, all accented by a wand and a necklace with a glowing potion bottle.
“Oh Lizzy, you’re here already!” Kitty exclaimed.
“I barely arrived. Jane is here, too,” Lizzy said.
Lydia snorted. “Nice costume, Lizzy. It’s about as unimaginative as Mary’s so-called librarian outfit.”
“You’re right, Lydia,” Lizzy responded, unfazed. “I so love your Poison Ivy costume.”
“I’m Persephone!” Lydia let out an offended huff.
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, while Lizzy gave me a sly smile. She turned and, almost out of nowhere, a man dressed in a dark cape and mask stood in front of her.
“D-Darcy?” She sputtered. “Are you… Batman?”
“I lost a bet to Caroline, so she chose my costume,” he grumbled. “Can we talk?”
Mom and the others had moved down the hall and I tried to follow, but others had entered the entryway. Normally that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but with the decorations narrowing the space even further, I found myself trapped next to Lizzy and Darcy.
My sister scowled at him. “Sure, let’s talk. I say ‘hello’. You say ’how are you’ and I remark how many people are here. Now we can ignore each other for the rest of the evening.”
“Do you talk by way of rules at parties?” Darcy asked.
“Sometimes it’s best, so then two people can say as little as possible.” She made to move away from him, and I started to feel relieved, hoping I might squeeze past, but Darcy caught her arm. And my escape route again narrowed.
“Look,” he said. “You may have heard things about me from some less than reliable sources—”
“Is it a less than reliable source if the information is from the person who has been mistreated?”
Darcy’s jaw clenched. “Wickham may make friends easily, but whether he can keep said friends is less certain.”
More people crowded into the entryway. I sighed and sunk against the wall. Seemed as if I’d be stuck here longer than I wanted. Although I had seen him from a distance, I’d never met Wickham face-to-face, but thanks to how fast gossip traveled in our town, I certainly knew more about him than I ever desired to.
“He’s lostyourfriendship in a manner that will affect him for the rest of his life.” Lizzy tugged from his grasp.
“Please,” Darcy’s voice softened. “Don’t paint a picture of my character yet. I fear it won’t reflect well on either of us.”
Lizzy raised her chin. “When else will I get the chance if not now?”
His mouth twitched in annoyance. “I’d never deny you the pleasure.”
The two marched off in different directions, leaving my path clear. Thank goodness. I tried to stay out of my sisters’ lover squabbles, and despite Lizzy declaring her disdain for Darcy, that is exactly what that conversation had sounded like.
