Jane and Bingley (Countdown to Christmas Book 8)

by Jenni James

  He took another deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I’ll stop stressing and let things settle on their own.” He glanced up. “But what about the other gifts I have for her?”

  “Well, give them. Don’t stop that. Besides, it lets her see that you’re still there and thinking of her.”

  He nodded. “You’re right.”

  “Charles, someone close to her could’ve passed on. She might’ve lost her job at work. You never know what’s going on. Give her space. It’ll be fine. Let her mourn whatever she’s mourning and when she’s ready to speak, she said she will—so she will. You have no reason to believe anything else. Nothing has shown that she’s walking away from you. This is all crazy talk. Stop. And let it be.”

  Charles suddenly stood up and kissed her cheek. He needed to think. “Thank you, Grammy. You make everything better.”

  “Good. Now go get some sleep. I for one am exhausted, and I know you are too.”

  He chuckled wearily. “Yes, ma’am.” He collected his coat and waved his hand as she began to rise. “No, no, stay and watch your late-night shows. I know how much you love them. You don’t need to see me to the door. I love you. Thank you.” He kissed her cheek once more before letting himself out.

  “Stay out of trouble, you rascal!” she hollered after him as the door shut.

  Charles rehashed his grandma’s advice as he headed home. There was no reason to get worked up about never seeing Jane again, or to feel upset because she wouldn’t speak to him. This was Jane’s call, not his. He didn’t like the idea of waiting, but if that’s what Jane needed, then he’d buck up and do it.

  The next morning, he collected his basket of eight different locally crafted artisan milk soaps and lotions and set them in a bag outside her door with a note. He wished he could knock and see her—he missed that pretty smile. He hesitated, but Grammy’s words began to ring through his head, and common sense prevailed. Charles was amazed at how lonely his heart could feel in the past two days without her. Why was it that it took him doing something stupid before he realized how much in love with Jane he actually was?

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Nine Ladies Dancing

  On the ninth day of Christmas, Jane opened her door for a brisk walk around the complex and found an invitation to a masquerade charity ball for that night. The beautiful silver calligraphy made her burst into tears all over again. A ball! Her whole life, she’d wanted to be invited to a ball, and now she was. And . . . and it was for that night. All at once she felt like Cinderella, not allowed to go, except the only one stopping her from going was herself.

  For the first time in a couple of days, her heart began to crack, and the tiniest sliver of warmth returned.

  She was the one who couldn’t forgive Charles for thinking she was only after his money and didn’t love him. She was the one who was making her own life miserable—and most likely his too. Clearly, he was still thinking of her—bringing her the gifts of Christmas even though she was being stubborn.

  But she was right, wasn’t she? She should stand her ground, right? Where was Eliza when she needed her most?

  Jane walked back into the apartment and shut the door, and as she placed the stunning invite into the envelope again, she noticed Charles’s hurried note on the back.

  Jane,

  I’ll be there. Please come. It would mean the world to me. However, if you choose not to, I understand. And know that whatever is going on, I’m thinking of you…

  Love,

  Charles

  Love.

  Could a man love her and still think she was a gold digger? No. He couldn’t, could he?

  She plopped down on the couch and then sat back up again. Wait a minute. Didn’t he already have a change of heart? He clearly didn’t think she was only after his money or he wouldn’t be here. The man was attempting to fix everything. But if she kept treating this as if they were stuck in the past, she’d never see what was really happening now. She was more caught up in her own embarrassed pride than anything else.

  This really was just about her own forgiveness toward a man who thought the worst of her, but had since changed.

  And then the reality hit once more and her heart grew just that bit warmer.

  Everything was hinging on Jane. It was all weighing on her attitude and forgiveness.

  The true question wasn’t whether or not she was willing to go to her first ball with him. The real question was, was she willing to forgive and overlook his stupidity? He saw her. He cared about her. And to keep being so stubborn, refusing to see him instead of allowing him to explain himself, was only hurting her more.

  Why not speak with him? Why not allow her heart to soften enough to ask him what he was thinking?

  But then a sharp pain pricked her heart as the memory of Eliza’s letter came back in full force. Jane tried to push the sadness back out, but it was pretty hopeless. The letter still stung.

  Okay. Maybe she wasn’t willing to talk about it yet. However, that didn’t mean she couldn’t talk about it tomorrow. If she had time to prepare herself.

  Jane walked into her closet and pulled out the dress Eliza had given her. It worked for the dinner, but it would be perfect for the ball too. Even though he’d already seen her in it, it really didn’t matter—what mattered would be that she came.

  But would she? Did she dare?

  She glanced around the room and found the purple-and-black lace mask she’d bought herself for a decoration earlier that year, never believing she’d wear it. She picked it up, her fingers tracing the intricate beadwork and ribbons adorning it. It’d be absolutely perfect. Though it was just an optional masquerade, maybe she’d wear it. Nothing too dramatic. And then gauge his reaction that way.

  She attempted a smirk and put the mask on. Then she held the dress up in front of the floor-length mirror in her bedroom. It was totally dramatic. But fun. She bit her lip and twirled from side to side. It was a ball. An honest-to-goodness ball. And with incredible eye makeup and an amazing hairdo, she’d kill it. Maybe for tonight, she would be Cinderella and surprise her almost-prince at the ball.

  For the first time in days, she giggled. Yes, this is where she was meant to be. It felt right to go, and it was about time she listened to her heart over her brain anyway.

  Charles waited in his car outside Jane’s apartment complex for thirty minutes—hoping she’d come out and he could offer her a ride—before driving over to the charity ball without her. His heart ached, and he wondered again for the eightieth time if he was doing the right thing. He wished he could take her dancing. He’d love to hold her close and be together. She didn’t have to talk—not one word—if she didn’t want to . . . he just missed her.

  The charity event would last several hours. Several very boring and lonely hours. Charles sighed as he walked in and presented his invitation. He was welcomed kindly and shown to his table. Curious, he walked around the empty table and read the place cards. He’d been seated by some pretty influential people, though it didn’t look like anyone else had arrived as of yet. So he walked over to look at the items listed for auction instead of sitting down.

  His $400 tickets had paid for a small hors d'oeuvres buffet table, and then there would be an exquisite five-course meal—that would be added to his tab if he accepted and handed in one of the place cards at the table. Each person had a few place cards to be used for the dinner, and other items available for purchase to help with the charity. These meals were usually a thousand dollars apiece, but Charles rarely bought a meal.

  After hosting some of his own events through work—and witnessing firsthand how much the hotel gouged them with their usual 70% per meal fee, he realized it was much better to simply write a check for the amount of the dinner than to pay for some expensive chef’s wages and only give three hundred or so to the actual charity.

  There were some nice items up for auction. Summer vacations in the Swiss Alps, Spain, France, Hawaii, and even one for three months on the beach in
San Diego—that one was tempting. Oh, so tempting. There were also some cruises up for grabs, as well as fine jewelry, electronic gadgets, season tickets to the opera, theater, and even some sports teams. Choice seats at the upcoming Super Bowl and different hotel and ski resort packages. Fine restaurants and salon visits—it even looked like some plastic surgery too. Why were the people he associated with so desperate to change themselves? So much so that now, it was considered a nice prize to win something like plastic surgery at an auction? Sadly, even his own family had fallen for the cosmetic perfection trap too. Disgusted, he shook his head and turned away.

  This night was going to be awful. He knew it.

  As he made his way to the hors d’oeuvres, he overheard two women gushing over their gowns and jewelry. Their comments, though sweet, came out almost hostile, as if these women had spent years despising each other.

  He looked over the array of foods before him, and all at once, his world seemed so shallow, as though it was lost in a sea of impressing and never truly living, where one was always attempting to one up the other. Maybe that was what he loved most about Jane. She seemed able to ground him, make him realize how nice it was to live in the moment. To enjoy the little things around you—like feeding peacocks and cooking in the kitchen, or even helping kids learn to love to read.

  As more and more people came in, he kept away from the table as it began to fill up. He wasn’t in the mood to exchange pleasantries or improve his business contacts. No. He really wanted to be anywhere else.

  After another hour or so, the dancing began. Couples drifted onto the dance floor, and they focused on the people they’d come with. Once the table was empty, Charles walked over to it and sat down. This really wasn’t the sort of place a man came to alone. Why was he here? He should write out his customary check, thank his hosts, and leave. He’d be much more comfortable without this blasted tux anyway.

  Just as he reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his checkbook, he got a glimpse of a beautiful girl in a mask, in a very familiar black dress. Did Jane come, or was he imagining things?

  Charles froze and waited until the crowd parted again, his heart beating rapidly. Yes, it was Jane. It had to be. There was only one woman who could attract such notice as she did. Several people turned and stared at her as she slowly made her way toward the tables. She was clearly looking for him through that incredibly tempting mask. Her neck craned this way and that, trying to spy him among the dancers. Did she really believe he’d be out there?

  Charles stood and made his way over to the buffet table again. He purposely hid behind a cluster of older men hashing out business of some sort. As Jane walked into the back section of the ballroom toward the tables, he saw her skimming each one. From his vantage point, he admired the way the dress swayed with her as she walked. Never noticing him, she passed right by the men—who’d stopped to stare—and then she made her way farther into the dining area.

  Charles fetched a drink from the table, stepped up behind her, and whispered, “Hello, fair lady. Fancy meeting you here tonight.”

  Jane shivered slightly and then turned toward him. Those incredible exotic eyes met his, and he was certain she’d never looked more striking than she did right then. “Thank you for coming,” he said.

  “How long did it take you to recognize me?”

  He chuckled and handed the drink to her. “Are you hiding? As soon as I saw you, I knew.”

  She glanced down and nodded, and then her eyes met his again. She was here. She was really here. And he knew they’d be okay. No matter what else the world threw at them, they’d make it. “Would you care to dance?”

  Her lips formed a delightful smile. “Of course. It’s why I came.”

  “I’ve missed you.”

  She glanced away and then met his gaze again. “I’ve missed you too.”

  Every single breath seemed to matter. “Let’s not talk yet. Let’s just enjoy ourselves. And when you’re ready, you can tell me everything. Does that work? Or would you rather go ahead and talk? We can find a quiet corner and—”

  Jane leaned over and stopped him with a long kiss on the cheek. His collar felt tighter and his breathing much more rapid as her faint perfume mingled with the warm breath on his jaw. Not one to miss an opportunity, Charles wrapped his arms around her, gently grasping her hand and then pulling her in so her sweet breath never stopped tickling his neck. Jane melted into him, her head resting perfectly on his shoulder—one feather from her mask tickling his brow—and ever so slowly, he began to rock with the music.

  This was heaven. This was where he was always meant to be. And now that she was here, there was no way he’d ever let her go.

  * * *

  Jane released a long, giddy breath as she said good-bye to Charles after the ball. It was perfect—even better than she could imagine—and he was the perfect gentleman. He gave her space, never once questioning her motives over the last couple of days, and kept things lighthearted and fun. It was as if he was gently reminding her of everything she’d been missing. If that was his ploy, it worked. Without the heavy discussions, there were plenty of moments to enjoy and be in the moment.

  Jane had forgotten how comfortable she was around him. How easily they slid into playful banter. Deep down, there was a strong friendship there. They could easily talk for hours about absolutely nothing. That night, they had—and danced and laughed and got outbid over and over again by some pretty high fliers. But none of it mattered—what mattered was that they were together, and she was allowing her heart to be sewn back together again stitch by stitch.

  As they approached her apartment and he walked her to the door, her spine tingled from the light touch of his hand on the hollow of her back under her coat. So warm, so protective.

  Charles tugged slightly and turned her toward him. “I have a gift to give you tomorrow. Will you be here?”

  She grinned and looked up at him coyly through her lashes—her mask had been removed hours before. “Maybe.”

  His eyes stared into hers for a little while, then roamed over her features—she loved seeing him smile. “I’ll take my chances.”

  “I bet you’ve got something fun planned up your sleeve for ten leaping lords.”

  “Of course I do. However, if you’ve rather have a night in and catch up, we could do that too. It’s up to you.”

  It was up to her. It was such a simple concept, it amazed her how profound it seemed. All of the joy or sadness depended on her. “When were you planning to come over?”

  He shrugged. “The gift is best opened during the evening, so I figured I’d start there. Well, I wasn’t sure if I would be seeing you tonight, so honestly, the plans I had were more like dropping the gift at your door again.”

  She tried not to feel ashamed, but she did. A little. It was time they actually cleared the air. “Would you like to come over for brunch and stay awhile?”

  “Are you sure you want me?”

  He looked so handsome in his tux, trying to appear nonchalant and not too eager for her answer. It was charming, really. “I think we should talk.”

  Charles straightened and cleared his throat. “Uh-oh, that sounds a bit ominous.”

  She tilted her head and swung the mask around her hand. “I don’t know if it’s ominous, but I think I’m finally ready to explain myself. So, does tomorrow work?”

  He nodded, his eyes going a bit serious. “Thank you.” Then he unexpectedly stepped forward and placed a soft kiss on her lips and then another. “Thank you for coming tonight. You stole the show—everyone was definitely looking at you.”

  Oh, good grief. She blushed and went to pull away, but he caught her elbow and tugged her in for another kiss. This one was a bit more wonderful than the last two. His free hand came up to her shoulder and then cradled her head. Jane was completely lost.

  Charles suddenly pulled back.

  “Are you okay? Did I…?” She trailed off, not sure what to say.

  He seemed to be having
a hard time breathing. “No. I mean, yes, I’m okay. I’m more than okay. You . . . uh, you . . .” He cleared his throat. “I forgot how well you kissed.”

  Jane could feel herself going bright red, and she bit her lip before she said something stupid.

  “Don’t look at me like that.” He shook his head and then grinned. “I want to push open this door right now and never leave.”

  It sounded like heaven to her. What would it be like to be married to him?

  “But we’ve still got some things to sort out, so I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She didn’t move, and neither did he.

  “I mean it. I’m going to walk away right now.”

  Jane’s grin grew.

  “Those lips are incredibly tempting. Are you trying to kill my resolve here?”

  Yes. “No.” She blushed. “Go home, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Neither moved.

  Then all at once, he pulled her in. “Just one more for the road.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ten Lords-a-Leaping

  Charles showed up bright and early at eleven the next morning. Thank goodness it wasn’t any earlier. After being up so late the night before, Jane had only just woken up when he knocked on the door. She answered it with a yawn. “Hello there.”

  “Howdy!” He didn’t even hesitate, or ask, or anything. She was greeted with a friendly kiss as he brushed past, his arms loaded full of goodies. He was completely light and cheery. Jane wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d started to whistle. She followed him into the kitchen, where he dumped everything on the table.