Page 28 of The Difference of a Darcy
“I wish I had never been born!”
She gasped—too loudly, but Darcy did not hear.
Because the air had changed.
A sharp gust swept through the clearing, and snow danced upwards instead of down. The trees did not move, yet the wind curled unnaturally around them.
And then—without a sound—a man appeared across the stream.
Not a man. Not quite.
Elizabeth’s heart stuttered. She stumbled back a pace and ducked behind a tree trunk before peeking around at the strange vision.
The figure shimmered faintly, as though the light could not decide how to strike him. His hair was pale, his eyes unnaturally green. His coat was fine, cut in a fashion she had never seen. He stepped out onto the stream, but instead of crashing through the thin ice, he merely walked on top of it.
What sort of magic is this?
She saw Darcy take a step back, and she clutched the tree trunk to keep herself steady.
The stranger smiled. “That,” he said, “can be arranged.”
She stared, shocked into speechlessness, as the two men spoke, holding one of the most bizarre conversations she hadever encountered. The odd man finished by telling Darcy that he had been removed from the equation.
Before she could process what that statement even meant, the stranger smiled and shifted his gaze—looking directly at her and winked.
Elizabeth gasped, and Darcy turned. Their eyes met, and his face made his bewilderment clear. “Miss Bennet?”
He said her name like a question, like he doubted the reality of her presence. Over his shoulder, the fae—for what else could he be?—gave her a small smile.
And then he was gone.
Completely.
There was no sound, no shimmer, no burst of light—only the hush of snow and the low creak of the trees.
The stream was still. The broken ice had frozen over again, smooth as glass. The footprints that had marked the bank were filled in.
Darcy stepped forward, staring at the place where the figure had been.
“I—he was just—” He turned back toward Elizabeth, his voice strangely hollow. “Did you see him?”
Elizabeth opened her mouth, then closed it again.
She looked at the spot where the fae had stood. Then back at Darcy.
She nodded.
“…Yes,” she said softly. “I saw him.”
“Miss Bennet?” Darcy’s voice was uncertain. “Can you…seeme?”
A short bark of nervous laughter burst from her lips. “Yes, Mr. Darcy, I can.”
“Ah, well… it is just that he said he hadremovedme…” His voice trailed off.
They stood in silence. Somewhere far off, a bird called once, then fell silent. At length, the cold pressed in, through her layers, and she shivered slightly.
Drawing her cloak more tightly around her, she cleared her throat. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, her voice uneven, “what just happened?”
