I almost felt bad for complaining about Wyatt's being in our party.

Compared to William Darcy, he was an absolute dream.

As per usual, William wasn't alone, and I had to wonder just how someone so thoroughly unlikeable could always be surrounded by friends. A girl clung to his arm, and for once it wasn't Chantelle. This girl was more like an old-fashioned china doll, right down to the alabaster skin and perfect golden ringlets. Her large, pale blue eyes surveyed us warily while her free hand clung to one of the enormous bows which adorned her frilly, antique dress. When she met my gaze, she recoiled and hid herself behind William as though the boy was her only protection from my relative poverty and normality.

Flanking William on his other side was a boy who looked, I was surprised to say, modest. I knew that everything he was wearing came from a high-end fashion label I'd never heard of, but he was dressed according to his age in a pair of black jeans and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Rather than shying away, he offered a smirk in my direction and I was inclined to offer one in return. Something told me that I may have found someone besides Georgia to help me endure our incarceration in this grand prison.

'This is my great-nephew, William Darcy. His cousin, Frederick Lambert. And, of course, my daughter Cosette,' Madame Courtenay explained.

Wyatt was bold enough to step forward. 'May I just say, Madame, it is a great honour to be asked to join you here. Not to mention, to have such distinguished company. It is truly beyond comprehension.'

Just like your stupidity.

'Beth and I have met, Aunt,' William said. 'We attended the same school for a short time.'

'Is that so? How interesting.' It didn't seem to me that Madame Courtenay was at all interested in the information. More... wary. Worried. Like it unnerved her that she was only just discovering this facet of our relationship if it could even be referred to as such. 'Well, if she already knows you, then you won't have much else to discuss. There will be no benefit to your spending time together. Frederick, I'm trusting Elisabeth to your care while she's in Paris.'

Madame Courtenay may have believed that she was protecting her precious William from me, but I felt more like she was doing me a favour. Never in our shared history had we got along, and I couldn't imagine that forced proximity might improve our opinions of one another. I had higher hopes for Freddie. Although he had the unfortunate handicap of being related to William Darcy, I got a better vibe from him immediately. Besides, if I didn't like him then I could hide in the extensive gardens or lose myself in a wine cellar somewhere until it was time to fly home.

The introductions completed and with Madame Courtenay's tolerance of my presence entirely spent; the staff showed us to our guest rooms. The house was large enough that there was no need to share, and I dragged my luggage into an enormous chamber with a lofty domed ceiling painted with rosy-cheeked cherubs who frolicked naked atop fluffy clouds. The floor was a dark wooden parquet pattern, and the walls were white with gilded columns sunken into them to separate each intricate mural. It was an intimidating room. A room that I didn't feel I belonged in. I was fearful that if I left one thing out of place or accidentally touched the silk sheets, someone would accuse me of tainting it with my poverty.

Still, it was better to be surrounded by silent paintings than her ladyship and her bizarre daughter. I wasn't sure that I'd seen Cosette blink once throughout her mother's speech. A chill slithered up my spine as I thought upon it.

Didn't horror movies start like this?

Was I going to wake up in the middle of the night to find the ghostly girl floating above me, ready to suck out my soul or eat my eyes?

Someone knocked on the door and I all but jumped out of my skin. The sound echoed about the bedroom and I held my breath, wondering if I was about to be told by some surly housemaid that I'd been placed in the wrong bedroom and that a girl like me ought to sleep in the dusty attic. Whoever it was knocked again. Seized by the belief that it was likely to be Georgia, I hurried back across the polished floor and tore the door open with a smile on my face.

The smile faded immediately when William Darcy was revealed to be waiting on the other side. Without hesitation, I slammed the door in his face. As I turned heel and began back toward my luggage, the door opened behind me.

He strode toward me without invitation and demanded, 'Why are you here?'

'I'm not here,' I said. I spun on my heel and grabbed his shoulders to shake him roughly. 'You're in a coma, none of this is real! Come back, William! You have to wake up!'

Unimpressed by my Oscar-worthy performance, he knocked my hands away. 'You're ridiculous.'

'I'm ridiculous? I'm not the one asking stupid questions,' I retorted. 'My Mum dragged me here. Apparently, this is what it takes to be a dutiful daughter these days. Why did you think I'd come here for you or something?'

He blushed and turned his head away.

'Oh my God,' I laughed. 'Seriously? Did that actually come into your head? Wow, you are really, really full of yourself. Like, to the point where you're mentally damaged. You need help.'

'Just stay out of my way while you're here,' he warned.

'Says the guy that just barged into my bedroom.'

He raised a brow. 'I only came to give you a message.'

'You could have sent a servant. I gathered there are a few,' I pointed out. 'But consider the message received. Do you want to try leaving now?'

William opened his mouth to answer back. He thought better of it. It was the most sensible thing he'd ever done in my presence. Provoking me would only see us trapped in an endless cycle of verbal bashing, and I was too exhausted to engage in such a battle with him.

It satisfied me that I'd had the last word. He turned heel and headed for the door. Almost as soon as it clicked closed, it opened again, and William stormed back towards me. He halted barely inches from me and asked tersely, 'How are your friends?'

'What?' I asked stupidly. My brain was still working its way through the momentary relief of his exit, to the surprise of his return, to the disbelief that he'd inquired about the wellbeing of someone other than his own social circle.

'Jenny. How is she?'

'Fine. In Switzerland, actually. Don't suppose you saw her before you came in this direction?'

'No,' he said without skipping a beat. William immediately changed the subject. 'Freddie wants to meet you.'

'Good for him. Couldn't he tell me that to my face?'

'Yes, probably. Will you come to see him?' he pressed.

'I'm sensing that I don't have much of a choice,' I said. 'You're not going to leave until I agree, are you?'

'No.'

'Fine,' I consented. 'Only because he seems like the only normal person here.'

'Normal isn't a word I'd use to describe my cousin.'

Normal or not, he had to be better company than William Darcy.