“My stars, it’s bewitched!” her mother gasped, clutching her daughter’s arm in surprise.
And on and on it went. Drinks vanished from people’s hands, officers found themselves pinwheeling into one another, and more than one lady swore someone had kissed her, but no one ever saw who. And the mistletoe—it was everywhere. How had Ewan pulled off such a feat? All I could think of was that Darcydidsay his “visitor” had been scarce of late. Perhaps he had been out plundering the woods.
Meanwhile, couples continued to gather beneath the floating mistletoe, laughter, and kisses filling the room as each sprig seemed to have a mind of its own, hovering above pairs before disappearing as swiftly as it had come.
I looked up at Darcy, my heart pounding as the festive chaos unfolded around us. It felt as though we were the only two people in the world, standing amidst the wild revelry, utterly captivated.
His hand found mine, and he gave it a gentle squeeze. “I do believe this is our cue, Miss Bennet.”
I glanced back at him, a mischievous smile on my lips. “Well then, Mr. Darcy, let’s not keep our friend waiting.”
Thirty
Darcy
Iguided Elizabeth intothe library, closing the door quietly behind us. The noise from the ballroom faded to a soft hum. Here, we were alone—or as alone as anyone could be with an invisible Scotsman lurking about. The library seemed warmer, with faint shadows dancing in the lamplight, casting an amber glow over the books and the crackling fire. Elizabeth’s eyes were alight with curiosity, glancing around as though the library itself held the secrets we’d come to uncover.
I cleared my throat, suddenly aware of the small brooch in my pocket. Ewan’s brooch. I’d kept it with me, a faint insurance policy against whatever strange magic might occur tonight. Slowly, I took it out, holding it between us.
“Ewan gave this to me. It’s his lost love’s brooch,” I said softly, studying her reaction. “It’s… well, it’s complicated.”
Elizabeth took a step closer, her eyes fixed on the brooch. Her gaze softened, almost hesitant. “So, this is it?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. “The very thing that binds him to you?”
“Tous, it seems,” I replied, managing a faint smile.
She narrowed those glorious eyes and looked up at me, her fingers falling away from the brooch. “Us?”
“Yes.” I pulled in a breath and wondered how much of Ewan’s madness I should repeat to her. “It… well, apparently,it… as if it has its own will, I suppose… was looking foryou, all the time.”
Elizabeth’s expression deepened with skepticism. “I don’t understand.”
“Well, that makes two of us.”
She chuckled and reached out, fingers brushing mine as she took the brooch and turned it over in her hand. “It doesn’t look like anything special,” she mused.
“Oh, trust me. Don’t underestimate it. And take care with the point on the back, for that is what got me into this mess.”
She flipped it over in her hand once more, then she gave me a wry smile. “We’re here at midnight, holding a haunted brooch, so I must ask, Mr. Darcy—do you have the slightest idea what we’re supposed to do?”
“Not a clue.” I attempted to laugh but realized I was practically sweating. “Ewan just said to make sure we were alone together at the stroke of midnight, as though that explains anything. And knowing him, it could involve anything from a blood oath to a series of ritual chants. But I absolutely draw the line at sacrificing a goat.”
She laughed. “A blood oath? Truly?”
“Desperation breeds ideas, Miss Bennet.” I couldn’t help but grin back.
Elizabeth’s laugh faded, and her expression grew serious. Her gaze sharpened on something behind me, and she swallowed. “Mr. Darcy?”
I turned, and there he was—a faint silhouette at first, then clearer, his face materializing with a look that was both hauntingly familiar and slightly confused. Ewan’s gaze landed on Elizabeth, and he seemed to take a step closer, his eyes widening.
“Elspeth?” His voice, still a whisper, filled the room. He reached out a hand, brushing it over Elizabeth’s shoulder. She shivered, looking up at him with a shock that mirrored my own.
“You can see him?” I gasped.
Elizabeth’s eyes were wide and fixed on Ewan’s face so intensely that they bobbed as she nodded. “I can. Is it because I’m holding this?” she whispered, her palm flattening under the brooch as if she were eager for Ewan to take it back.
For a moment, Ewan was frozen. He seemed lost in the memory, his hand falling to his side as he met her eyes. He shook his head. “Nay, I’ve muddled it again. Elizabeth,” he said softly, letting the name settle as he looked at her with an odd sort of recognition. “But there is somethin’ o’ her spirit in ye, lass. I’ll no’ forget that.”
Elizabeth’s hand was still stretched flat as she stared at him, but then she did something curious. She blinked, finally shifting her attention back to me, and closed her fingers around the brooch, as if claiming it as her right. I suppose it always was. “What… what do we do, Ewan?”
