Charles’s cheeks flushed, and he ran a hand down his gray sweater. It paired with his jeans for the perfect combination of classy and casual. Unlike some people, he didn’t look remotely too fancy for a festival.
Charles offered his arm to Jane, leaving me to walk by Darcy. “By” was a loose interpretation of the word, as he left a gap large enough for three people to walk between us, which they did.
I closed the distance until it was wide enough for only one person to walk through and stared down at my drink while we walked, trying not to watch Darcy as I waited for him to take a sip. After a handful of sprites flew between us on their way to the tiny booth they’d set up to sell magical trinkets, I attempted to speak to Darcy again.
“I’m impressed by you.” I glanced up at him through my lashes as Lydia often did when talking to men and took another sip of my cider.
“Why?” Darcy studied me as if he didn’t know what to make of me.
I bit back a smile. I’d caught him off guard. “One needs a certain amount of resilience to accompany his friend to an outing with such tedious company.”
“What do you mean?”
“I understand why Charles wanted to come, but I wasn’t sure why you’d agree when your date wasn’t your type.”
His expression stiffened, and he looked down at his drink for a long moment before finally taking a sip.
One point for Lizzy and zero for Darcy.
“Have you been to a festival like this before?” I asked when he didn’t seem inclined to break the awkward silence.
“Not in these parts.” He eyed a stand selling everlasting mugs—which were like magical Contigo water bottles. They kept your drink hot or cold depending on what you wanted and never spilled, even when knocked over.
“It’s a big thing around here,” I said. “Everyone goes.”
“Is that why you’re here? Because everyone does it?” He shot me another indecipherable look.
I laughed. “You’re confusing me with someone who cares about what society thinks.”
He was confusing me with my mother.
The thought sobered me, and I switched tactics now that he had the potion in his system. “What happened to that man was horrible, don’t you think?” I said softly, trying not to interrupt Jane’s date.
At Darcy’s hard look, I widened my eyes, trying to hide my suspicion behind a layer of innocence.
“Yes.” His voice was gravelly.
“What was his name again? Ethan?”
“Easton.”
I took another sip to hide my smile. No need to admit to Darcy that I already knew all about Easton—the twenty nine year old who came from New Hope, Pennsylvania, and who had an older brother, a younger sister, and a mother. I’d tried to reach out to the family but had had no luck so far. Easton had moved to New York a few years ago, where he probably got mixed up with the Bingleys and Darcy. He likely came with Charles’s group, but I still didn’t know the most important thing: why he’d been arguing with Darcy. I had a feeling that once I figured that out, I’d have my motive for the murder.
“Did you know him?” I asked as we passed a few hay bales that filled the air with their fresh, earthy scent.
Darcy’s gaze whipped to me, eyes narrowed in a curious scowl. He seemed surprised but also frustrated. He always seemed frustrated with me. But since the feeling was mutual, I didn’t mind.
“Yes.” His tone was strained again, but that probably happened when you talked about people you murdered.
So he wasn’t a psychopath, just a killer.
“I don’t think he was from here. I’m guessing not anyway, since I’d never heard of him before the other night, and Austen Heights is one of those places where everyone knows everyone.” My notebook crinkled in my pocket as if trying to give me away for lying. I wasn’tguessingabout any of this.
We passed wooden booths set up with carnival toys and foods, bringing the sweet scent of pixie pies, the tang of harvest moon snaps, and stardust funnel cakes. My mouth watered as we passed the last food stand, but I didn’t stop. Somehow, it felt like I’d lose if I revealed anything as childish as a craving for a stardust funnel cake to Darcy.
Charles turned to face us as we stopped in line for the Ferris wheel, his usual smile subdued. “Easton was a good man and a good bodyguard. He was reliable and funny and never shirked his duty.”
With Charles being a highborn fae, it made sense for Easton to be his bodyguard. Those men from the club the other night were probably bodyguards as well.
