“Lizzy, are you quite all right?” Charlotte’s voice broke through the fog in my head as she appeared beside me, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Am I all right?” I repeated, blinking at her. “Yes. No. I don’t know.”
Charlotte gave me a look, half puzzled, half amused. “You’ve gone pale. What happened?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but what was I supposed to say? That I’d just witnessed a glass of punch floating through the air? That Mr. Darcy might actually be possessed by some unseen spirit? She would think I’d lost my mind.
“I... don’t know,” I muttered. “Something strange.”
“Strange?” Charlotte repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Mr. Darcy again?”
I hesitated, the image of that floating glass still fresh in my mind. “How did you guess? Yes... no. I mean, it’s just—he’s—oh, I don’t know what to think!”
“Mr. Darcy always seems a little strange,” Charlotte said with a shrug. “But he’s hardly dangerous.”
“I don’t think he’s dangerous,” I said quickly, though I wasn’t sure why I was defending him. “He’s just... odd.Veryodd.”
Charlotte gave me a skeptical look, but before she could question me further, another voice cut in.
“Well, Miss Bennet,” came Lieutenant Wickham’s smooth tones as he approached, all charm and smiles, “you’ve been quite the object of attention this evening. I daresay you’ve caused Mr. Darcy no end of confusion on the dance floor.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Mr. Darcy? Confused?”
Wickham’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yes, it seems he’s rather easily thrown off balance, wouldn’t you say?”
“Thrown off balance.”Thatwas one way of putting it.
I stared at him, trying to make sense of what he was implying. “Mr. Wickham, I am becoming truly concerned about our neighbor. The man has… troubles. Deep, serious troubles.”
“That is not quite correct,” Mr. Wickham said slowly, his gaze sharp. “More accurately, Mr. Darcy has secrets. Dark ones. And sometimes, Miss Bennet, those secrets start to show.”
My stomach knotted. Dark secrets? Was Mr. Wickham suggesting what I thought he was?
I shook my head, trying to dismiss the absurd notion, but I couldn’t shake the image of that floating glass. Had I imagined it? Was there some explanation I had missed? Or was Mr. Wickham right? Could Mr. Darcy truly be hiding something more... sinister?
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, though my voice sounded less certain than I’d hoped.
Mr. Wickham smiled faintly, almost as though he pitied me. “I hope, for your sake, that you never find out.”
A chill crept down my spine, and I glanced once more toward the spot where Mr. Darcy had vanished. Whatever was happening with him, it wasn’t just awkwardness or arrogance. There was something much stranger going on, something I hadn’t even begun to understand.
Charlotte cleared her throat. “Shall we take some air, Lizzy? You look like you could use it.”
I nodded, still half-distracted by my racing thoughts. “Yes... yes, I think I could.”
As we made our way toward the terrace, I cast one last glance back toward the refreshment table, half-expecting to see that cursed glass floating in mid-air again.
Nothing. Just the usual swirl of the ball, people chatting, laughing, unaware of the absurdity that had unfolded only moments ago.
But I knew what I’d seen. And whatever it was that haunted Mr. Darcy, it wasn’t finished with him yet.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Mr. Collinsbegan, clearing his throat in that pompous, slightly phlegmy way he always did before launching into a speech. “I must confess that there is a matter of great... importance I have been meaning to discuss with you.”
I already knew what he was about. He’d been loitering around me all morning like a moth around a candle, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, what he had in mind. His manners were, after all, far from subtle. He had been building to this moment ever since he’d set foot in Longbourn. The way he looked at me as if I were a prize ham at a village fair—it was impossible to miss.
But there was absolutely no way I was going to let him get started on whatever speech he’d been rehearsing in his head. Not if I had anything to say about it.
“Oh, Mr. Collins,” I interrupted, feigning a sudden, dramatic realization, “how careless of me. I forgot to mention something terribly important.”
