I refused to see the similarities to his request and the one the actual lady from Pride and Prejudice had given to Elizabeth. In that one, Lady de Bourgh had tried to lay claim on Darcy for her daughter. I was done with feeling superstitious about my life. Besides, going off with DeBurgy into the dark seemed like a very bad idea.
DeBurgy must’ve sensed my hesitation because he smirked. “You’re looking for Junie, aren’t you? You don’t have to tell me; it’s written all over your face.”
“What makes you think—?”
He cut me off, “I sit in the corners at every party, at the bars, the cafés, and I soak everything in. People talk when they drink too much or when they’re miserable; when they think no one else will listen. I’ve got eyes and ears, Jane. These eyes know who you’re looking for. And my ears hold the information you’re dying to get your hands on.”
The guy had enough flair to do shows in Vegas. I stared at him, still not sure what to do.
He snorted. “I’m far too busy to seduce inexperienced girls in a courtyard after dark. Are you coming or not?” DeBurgy headed languidly for the courtyard, and though I was tempted to leave him hanging so I could ruffle his confidence, he had the information that I wanted. Taking a deep breath, I pulled from the door and followed him.
“Dancey has a habit of making my job difficult,” DeBurgy said once we reached the garden. The palm trees hung over us in silent shadows. “He always had such poor taste in girlfriends.” This was said in a sneer. “He’s young and reckless; makes poor choices in friends.” He took a long pull of his cigarette, his gaze leveled on me while I gagged on his smoke. “His best mate can’t keep his hands off the women—especially under his mother’s watchful eye. The fact is, I don’t care if the groom wants to hijack a plane of monkeys. I don’t care if you or Chuck’s mother or his fiancé is upset about it—I don’t want Dancey mixed up in this nonsense. You see?”
“He already is,” I said.
DeBurgy made a sound of impatience. “What would you say if I could get your job back; find you a better job even?”
I was surprised at the offer—it wouldn’t come free. “For what?”
“Forget about ruining your friend’s wedding. That’s not very nice for a girl like you to do anyway; not very professional either. Taylor doesn’t want your help. We all know that.”
My heart raced. DeBurgy must think I had a chance at stopping this thing or he wouldn’t have bothered to intervene. He flicked the ash from his cigarette, staring down at me.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “You said that this is the same information I’d get if I talked to Junie?”
“She’s not going to talk to you, Jane. We came to an agreement earlier tonight—the terms of her conditions are between her and me. I offered her a position elsewhere, and she jumped at the chance.”
My mind went to the abandoned shack where I’d parted ways with Austen, the food and dirty dishes everywhere. It had been Junie’s pride and joy only yesterday. I felt oddly sad that she wasn’t returning, then frustrated. DeBurgy’s meddling was proof that she had real information that could help us.
DeBurgy touched my arm, then drew back at my wetness with a scowl. “You care for Dancey, don’t you? Jennings wants to uncover a story on his relationship with a practically married woman. Taylor doesn’t need that. Think of the shame she’d feel reading those headlines during her honeymoon? It would be all your fault, but we can fix the trouble you’ve started. We’ll work together.”
I felt like I was talking to a boa constrictor who was trying to convince me to strangle myself—he made it sound really good. “We can get the paparazzi off Dancey’s back,” he said. “I can pull out the big guns, hold a press conference, make some charity contributions. All you have to do is play the role of Dancey’s girlfriend—strangely enough, you are the lesser of two evils. We can’t have him stealing his best friend’s fiancé on the eve of his wedding, now can we?”
“I can’t pretend to be Dancey’s girlfriend,” I said. “That would break Taylor’s heart.”
“Are you kidding me? She’s looking for any excuse not to feel guilty for leading on my client.”
“Why don’t you just ask Dancey to back off?” I asked.
“He refused.”
I almost gasped in my relief, but kept it down under DeBurgy’s close scrutiny. Dancey’s refusal meant that he still liked Taylor. He was going to fix this. I shook my head, not able to keep back my smile. “Sorry, DeBurgy, we don’t have a deal.”
I tried to walk off, and he followed me like an offended shadow. “You would pass up such an opportunity?”
“Hey, it’s not going to work anyway. You said so yourself, Dancey has it bad for Taylor.”
“He’s protective of you.” DeBurgy threw his cigarette on the grass and stomped on it in his agitation. “He’d go through with it if he thought it might save your reputation as a professional. Dancey asked me to destroy the photos Jennings took of the two of you together.”
That stopped me in my tracks.
DeBurgy stepped in front of me. “Just think of poor Taylor if she saw them. So sad, so betrayed. And Austen? He’s a man—we all feel jealousy and do stupid things we regret later on. Lucky for you, I hid the photos with the bellhop for safekeeping.”
“Freddy?” I asked. DeBurgy put the KGB to shame. How did DeBurgy know that the guy hated me?
“You fix my little PR problem,” DeBurgy said, “And I make your problem go away for good.”
I stepped back and decided to buy myself more time. “What are you waiting for? Set up the press conferences.” I raced away to find Freddy. I wasn’t sure if he’d be home yet or still packed away in the lobby. I tried the latter first, and found Redd sitting stiffly on the couch. The military set of his shoulders gave him away. He stared at the blank TV. I didn’t want to talk to him, but I was desperate. “Have you seen Freddy?” I asked.
Redd’s sleepy eyes widened as soon as he took me in. “Jane!” He stood up, and the napkins that he held slipped to the ground. I noticed that there was writing on them. Before I could get too close, he took a firm grip on my shoulders and looked steadily into my eyes. “I got you fired. I am so sorry.”
“That’s fine. Have you seen Freddy?”
“No, it’s not fine. I’ve been doing some thinking. I don’t like myself this way. I feel like I’m being forced to act a role that I despise. I can usually let go of a failed relationship.”
“No one is acting themselves right now.” I took a moment to free him from his guilt. “You’re forgiven, but you could really make it up to me if you could help me find Freddy.”
He frowned. “He left with Bella somewhere.”
I almost choked on a gasp. “She’s in trouble. We have to save her.” Redd straightened at my words like any officer in the navy would at such a call to action. I ran for the Fullerton Bungalow where she was staying. We careened through the courtyard just in time to hear Bella’s scream.
Redd barred me from entering. “Jane, stand back.” He crashed into the door, and the hardwood stopped him with a jolt; it sounded like he was running into a tree. The reinforced timber we used at North Abbey didn’t budge. Bella screamed again, and Redd shoved his shoulder against the door, shouting out in the confusion.
“Use the handle,” I reminded him.
He went for that next, and it turned easily under his hands.
I rushed inside after him, and we found Bella in the middle of tackling Freddy. She threw her fists against his back and beat him over the head with her glittery purse. “I’m going to kill you, Freddy Tiney!” Bella screamed. Her hair was a mess. Mascara ran down her face, making her look like an 80’s rock star. The warm fire in the living room crackled in the fireplace behind her, mocking her with a cozy scene straight from a Hallmark movie.
Redd easily pulled Bella off the struggling bellhop. She pointed a manicured nail at Freddy. It was chipped. “Freddy, you’re a horrible disgusting creature. You may not live
in your mother’s basement, but you should!”
“What happened?” I asked.
“He had these photographs—ooh—and he said such awful things. What a turn-off! Being a jerk doesn’t impress the girls, Freddy!”
“Where are the photographs?” Redd asked.
“There.” She pointed to the crackling fire. “I threw them in there and then Freddy got mad. At me! Me? Told me he knew I had a nose job, recognized one when he saw one. What a freak!” She glared at him. “It was just a little nose surgery, Freddy! What a horrid basement creature you turned out to be.” She held her hands out to me, and Redd released her so that she could hug me. “Thank you, Jane, for warning me away from him. I’m so sorry for all the things I said about you. You were right about everything!”
“Thank you for destroying those photographs,” I managed through her strangling grasp. The girl was as strong as a bull. I could see now how she had gotten the best of Freddy.
She pulled away, her golden hair falling every which way. “After everything you’ve done, how could I not help you?”
I knew the destroyed photographs weren’t the end of it, but I was still touched that despite Bella’s resentment, her first instinct was to protect me.
“You’re not fat either,” Bella assured me. “I was horrible for saying it.”
“Well,” I felt my lips tip up. “I am curvaceous.”
I heard a snap behind us. Freddy had taken a picture of Bella with his phone. He breathed out heavily, his eyes indignant, and I knew he didn’t like being bested by a girl. “Now who looks like a basement creature?” he growled. He held his phone up, showing Bella at her worst. Bella made a weak, strangling noise. Her hand fluttered to her heart. Freddy smirked. “How about I post it online? Make a meme out of it. By the time you get to it, it will be viral. No man will have you.”
The phone was out of his hand halfway through Freddy’s speech. Redd smashed it against the wall. I heard the delicate pieces inside crunch. The glass over the screen cracked like broken ice, and then the screen went black.
Redd was amazing, just like the hero he was meant to be. He glanced back at us as if vaguely aware that we had witnessed his valiant act. “I hate anything viral,” he said. “Everyone is always sharing it on Facebook, calling each other Nazis. A complete waste of time.”
Bella fell into his arms. “You saved me. I would’ve died. Just died. Ruined! Such a thing—such a thing would’ve been worse than death.”
A fate worse than death was the phrase she was looking for. Bella arched her neck back and kissed the taller man. His arms tightened around her, and he dutifully kissed her back. Her hands went to his hair, and he escaped long enough to wipe her face clean of mascara. She giggled and kissed him again, getting lipstick all over his face.
Freddy glowered beside me. I felt like he was the bumbling villain in a bad movie and I was his awkward sidekick. I shifted. “Well, Freddy and I are going now,” I said, averting my eyes from the passionate couple.
Bella waved at me behind her back.
“He owes me a new phone,” Freddy grumbled.
“You’ll have to get a new job, too,” I told him as soon as we were out on the patio. “Bella was a guest here. Even your dad can’t get you out of this one.”
“What good will that do you?” he asked. “Those photos of you aren’t gone for good.”
“Then I’m taking you down with me, Freddy. Living in your mom’s basement will be the least of your worries!”
Something sinister snapped in Freddy’s eyes, and his bored, devil-may-care attitude turned into an evil glare. He lurched forward, his hands closing the distance between us.
“Jane!”
I turned as Bertie came out from the Southerton Bungalow, interrupting Freddy’s possibly murderous intentions. I had never been so glad to see her. She held her little rat-bear in a crushing grip. “What was that all about?”
Freddy was completely acting out of character! “Freddy was just putting out some fires,” I said, giving him a warning glare. “Weren’t you?”
Freddy’s eyes twitched, and he dropped his hands back to his sides. I noticed that they made powerful fists. “Hmm,” Bertie said, “well, I’d like you to send up some fresh towels.”
I gulped. “Sure.”
Freddy’s face had turned a molten red, and I wondered if he would explode in front of my eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Bertie said. “I’d like them warmed if that’s not too much to ask for in this backwards place!”
Freddy swung around and marched the other way. I shivered. No way was he getting Bertie fresh towels—I was just glad for her waspish ways, or he would’ve killed me. Bertie held her puppy out to me. When I didn’t immediately take Puggy, she stomped her foot. “Jane, I’m waiting!”
Did Bertie not know I was fired? I cleared my throat and wove a nice little story for her. “I can’t take poor Puggy. It’s part of North Abbey’s new regulations. They’re very strict. You’ll have to walk Puggy yourself.”
Now it was Bertie’s turn to look like she might strangle me. “Very inconvenient! It was possibly the only thing the staff was good for!” When I didn’t budge, her lashes lowered in heavy annoyance. “Then if it isn’t against North Abbey’s new regulations, I need you to play messenger girl for me. Harry Crawley isn’t answering my texts. Go find him. It’s vital he find his brother for me. Now that Chuck is marrying my closest friend, we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other. I think it’s only proper we get to know each other over drinks.”
I stiffened. That was a very bad idea. She had to know that Bigley was at his worst when drinking. Had Bertie given up on Crawley and decided to take advantage of his stepbrother? It seemed she had or why else would she do this? After her little rendezvous with her best friend’s husband, she might even expect gifts. Despite all that, she brought up a good point—maybe the best way to figure out what was going on with Bigley was through his brother.
“You know where Harry Crawley is?” I asked her.
“That’s why I’m asking you to find him.” Bertie slammed the door, leaving me staring at it.
I had last seen Crawley with Ann-Marie. I texted her on the off-chance that she knew where he had gone.
ME: HAVE YOU SEEN HARRY CRAWLEY?
A minute later, she answered.
ANN-MARIE: HE’S WITH ME. WE’RE BY LONGBURN LAGOON.
That got me worried. I didn’t want anyone else to find our romantic foosball setup, and I especially didn’t want Crawley to be there with Ann-Marie. I took off for the lagoon. It was in the middle of Maple Grove, in a clearing overhung by palm trees. There was an elegant bridge over it and a Chinese garden off to the side. I heard the foosball game long before I saw Crawley hunkered over it. Ann-Marie shouted out when she got a score.
“You’re not getting away with that,” Crawley said.
He had orange petals all over in his hair; so did Ann-Marie. The two had clearly gotten into a fight with the California poppies. Crawley seemed to have gotten over me, too; his eyes were only for Ann-Marie. I was tempted to scold the two for letting the dog and cat escape and then hijacking the foosball game, but they looked so happy. At least they were getting something out of my hard work.
“There you are,” I said. They glanced up with brief smiles and bent down again to concentrate on the game. “So, Bertie is looking for your brother,” I said.
Crawley’s shoulders stiffened. “Why? She’s a succubus. I don’t want her anywhere near my brother.”
A succubus? Very apt description—my respect went up for him tenfold. “Well, good,” I said. “You’re protective.” I remembered everything that he’d said at the rehearsal dinner. “You seem to love Bigley a lot. Is your stepbrother a good guy?”
“Yeah,” he answered quickly. “He’s just going through a hard time right now.”
“Why?”
He shrugged. I could tell that he wasn’t concentrating on the game anymore. Ann-Marie made another score, an
d he wordlessly marked the point on the scoreboard.
“He doesn’t want to marry my friend, does he?” I asked.
The game stopped. Crawley looked up, his eyes wary, his hands frozen on the handles. “Who told you that?”
It was a lucky guess. “Can you tell me why?” He was silent, and I tried harder to get him to talk. “Is it his mother? Does she have something to do with it?”
“She—she … look, there’s a reason my stepdad couldn’t get along with her, okay? Taylor’s just the first girl that Chuck’s mother ever approved of. Chuck likes her too.”
“Who was the girl his mother disapproved of?” I knew as soon as I said it that I had guessed what really happened. Crawley had a hunted look. “Oh c’mon,” I said, “are you trying to protect Mrs. Bigley the First? She’s been rude to your mom all week.” I cleared my throat and pulled out the big guns. “She called your mom a whore.”
“There was a girl he liked.” Crawley’s eyes filled with self-reproach when it came out. “Don’t say anything to Taylor, okay? Chuck could see that Dancey had a thing for Taylor anyway, so my brother didn’t think it was that big of a deal. He left his best friend alone with Taylor and thought that would take care of everything.”
“Bigley loves someone else,” I breathed. It all made sense.
“Chuck had it bad, so bad that he let it slip to his mom, even talked about marrying her. His mom freaked out, said she’d disinherit him, said she’d even take Taylor over some girl with no money or a good family. When Chuck got home from that, he didn’t know what to do; but he found Taylor crying on his couch, and she told him that she had gotten into a fight with Dancey. So Chuck made his move and asked her to marry him. He tried to make everyone happy, but he did a lousy job of it. And now Chuck’s a stupid drunk like his old man.”
As if I didn’t have enough to worry about, now I had to add to that the shared fates of Bigley and some mysterious girl from England? Still, the solution seemed so simple. “Why does your brother care if he gets disinherited?”
Crawley looked grim. “He’s worked too hard to lose everything. He’s completely dependent on his mother. If he loses her approval, his businesses go under. People lose their jobs. He’d have to give up everything to marry the girl he loves. I warned Chuck. I told him to stop his dependence on his mother before she pulled something like this.”
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