A growing sense of trepidation rose in me as sharp and cold as the wind from the harbor.
“You okay, Lizzy?” Charlotte studied me, worry creasing her forehead.
Before I could respond, Kitty and Lydia made their way over to us, prancing around the club as if they were still sixteen instead of twenty-one and nineteen. At least Lydia hadn’t received the stamp that would’ve allowed her to get drinks. Then her silliness would have known no bounds.
“Did you hear?” Lydia said as soon as she was in earshot, her voice coming out too loud.
Hoping she’d take the hint, I responded in a softer tone, “Hear what?” Yes, we were in a club, but the music wasn’t so loud that she needed to shout.
“The man dancing with Jane is Charles Bingley!” Excitement brightened Lydia’s eyes. “They’re staying at Netherfield Park while they’re in town.”
“Where did you hear that?” I pulled out my notebook and made a quick note to look into the place later.
“Those men over there.” Lydia pointed to the group of men from earlier and gave them a flirty wave. “They just got to town too.”
One of the men with a silvery outline faced our way, wearing sunglasses that didn’t belong indoors. His cropped hair helped him fit in with the surrounding men, but he stood slightly apart, as if he wasn’t one of them. His clenched jaw highlighted his cleft chin and the tension in his shoulders. What was wrong with him?
“Do you see the way Charles is looking at Jane?” Lydia’s comment drew my attention from the angry man.
“Or the way Jane’s looking at him.” Kitty giggled. “Maybe our family will be rich after all.”
“Jane gets all the good ones.” Lydia pushed out her lower lip. “She needs to snatch him up before some other girl comes along—maybe an elopement to Vegas or an accidental pregnancy would do the trick.”
“Stop that.” I glared at how they made Jane sound like a gold digger. “You’re acting like Mom.”
The men waved Kitty and Lydia back over, and the two ran off giggling, not paying the slightest attention to my scolding.
“They’re right, you know,” Charlotte said.
I gaped at her. When, in the history of the universe, had Kitty and Lydia ever been right? Especially when they were at their most ridiculous. “What do you mean?”
“If Jane is interested in Charles, she should let him know.”
“She’s danced with him three songs in a row!”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know how big a deal that is,” she said. “He seems like a nice enough man, and heaven knows those are hard to find.”
“Looks can be deceiving.” Darcy was attractive with his green eyes, thick curls, and muscular forearms, but he was a killer. Then again, weren’t Ted Bundy and H. H. Holmes? All smooth talk and handsome faces with secret murderous proclivities.
“Even still,” Charlotte continued, “Jane would be better off acting more interested than she feels, not less, since most guys need a ridiculous amount of encouragement.”
My gaze darted toward the dance floor again, but while I glimpsed Jane making her way to the restroom, Darcy and Charles were nowhere to be seen.
The silvery outlines around people flickered in and out before going dark. My potion had worn off. Everyone was nothing but dark silhouettes and neon hues of black, purple, and orange.
“Come on, Darcy,” Charles’s voice spoke nearby. “You need to dance with someone.”
I leaned away from the bar and glimpsed Charles and Darcy on the other side of the man next to me. Despite their proximity, I let out a relieved breath. At least I knew where they were now.
“I danced with your sister,” Darcy said in his rough voice.
“That doesn’t count and you know it,” Charles said. “You and Caroline are old friends.”
A horrified thought cut through me. If I could hear them, did that mean they could hear us? Or, more particularly, had they overheard Kitty and Lydia? No, that was silly. Charles had been dancing with Jane when they were over here, and Darcy had said he’d danced with Caroline.
“I don’t want to get to know anyone else,” Darcy said.
“Isn’t that why we’re here? So you can get out and explore a bit? See what things are like?” Charles continued.
