Promise Me This

by Kristi Rose

  Dressed in a navy-blue dinner dress with a fun and flirty pleated skirt, Jane looked beautiful, as always, but more serious than usual. The tight pleats didn’t flare out as meant by the design, but instead stayed tight to her legs. As if hidden in the folds of her skirt were a thousand secrets she was protecting. Elizabeth had brought a maroon dress that clung to her hips. The top, made from chiffon, draped loosely to her waist, yet nothing about the moment or her attitude felt casual. She rolled her shoulders, trying to shake off the tension and stiffness.

  “Shall we?” Jane asked and extended her elbow to Lizzy.

  Elizabeth looped her elbow through her sister’s, and together they walked out to meet Emma and face the crowd.

  Elizabeth had no expectations or intentions for the evening. She only wanted to come out alive with no more bruises from being sucker-punched.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Solarium had been converted into a dining room. Outside the glass windows, large pots that currently burned a bright yellow fire lined the path from the house to the lake. Several feet of snow covered the ground, but no more was falling. Two large dining tables were arranged to make the letter L, allowing for everyone at Emma’s party to sit together.

  Bingley, dressed in a gray suit with a navy and gray paisley tie, explained his plan to Darcy. He’d prepared an argument should his friend resist, but forcing Darcy to help was not needed. The man agreed without issue.

  “You think I’m crazy, right?” Bingley asked as he adjusted his tie.

  “I think you have to go with what your gut says to do,” Darcy said without answering the question.

  “I need you to tell me if you think this is a mistake. By that, I mean this little plan of mine.”

  “Listen, man. I’ve interfered enough, don’t you think?” Darcy cuffed him on the shoulder.

  Bingley chuckled. “Your avoidance of answering the question makes me nervous.”

  “I’m trying not to use my influence.” Darcy nodded to the door.

  Bingley turned and watched Jane enter with her sister and Emma. He nodded. “Now, as I look at her, I know I’m doing the right thing.”

  “Then you have your answer. I will add, though, that your sister is going to murder you.” Darcy gave him a crooked smile.

  “She’ll adjust. Do you know she tried to trap Jane into saying something incriminating about herself? She recorded their conversation.” He shook his head. “I had a long talk with her earlier. Change really scares her. She thinks she’s going to lose us. Then who will she have as friends? I reminded her that she’s my sister, and nothing will change that. Once I win the girl, then I’ll mend fences between the girl and my insecure sister.”

  “Sounds like you’ll have your hands full.” Darcy scanned the room. “Where is Caro?”

  “She’ll be here soon. She promised.” Bingley cleared his throat. “Shall we?” He gestured to a pair of overstuffed armchairs placed before the large dining tables. A small end table sat between them with a pitcher of water and two glasses. The arrangement reminded Bingley of how morning talk shows set up their interview space. Anne de Bourgh was setting up a camera, aiming it at one chair. She looked up when she saw them coming, giving them a thumbs up.

  Emma joined them, and following a nod from Bingley, addressed the crowd.

  “Take a seat please, friends. Have a seat.” She gestured to the large tables. “If your back is to me, please turn your chair around. We have some business to attend to before we start dinner. Seats, please. Thank you.” The crowd settled into dining chairs.

  Bingley searched for Jane and found her at the far end. Ideally, he would have liked her to sit closer, but he wasn’t going to fuss. He was going to win the girl.

  Bingley took the seat in front of the camera and Darcy the other across from him. Bingley was positioned so he could see the other guests. The crowd stilled. Anne gave them the countdown using her fingers and pointed to Darcy when the camera went live.

  Darcy adjusted in his seat, undoing the button of his suit coat. “Why am I sitting up here, Bingley? You know how I intensely dislike speaking before a crowd.”

  Random people in the group laughed.

  Bingley laughed, too, and clutched the chair’s arms, rolling the seam between his fingers, hoping to still his vibrating nerves. “You’re here because you’re a good friend. We’ve known each other a long time. Nearly our entire lives. I can’t recall a time when you haven’t been around. More specifically, when I haven’t benefited from your insight and counsel. I trust you implicitly.”

  Darcy relaxed into his seat, and Bingley followed suit. If he could focus on his friend, he’d nail this. If he thought about the crowd watching, well, he’d likely bumble it like he’d been doing with affairs of the heart recently.

  “It should be noted that you don’t always seek my counsel. There was that time you bought that old Karmann Ghia with the intention of restoring it. I believe you used a book to guide you through reworking the electrical system.” Darcy stretched a brow upward, a smile sliding across his face.

  Bingley tossed back his head and laughed, relaxing more, the chair’s seam forgotten. “Ah, yes, I loved that car. Caught on fire about three miles from my house, burned to the shell. You, I recall, wasted no time pointing out what a poor choice the purchase had been.”

  Darcy nodded. “Yes, I was very vocal. But come on, Charlie, a book? At least hire a skilled man to show you how to rewire. I’m just thankful it wasn’t the brakes you decided to tackle first.”

  “Well, I wanted to listen to music with the top down. That was my main priority at the time, if I recall correctly.”

  They laughed. The crowd laughed. Bingley took in his friend; the man had his back every single time. Bingley might have not liked the way Darcy went about some things, but he couldn’t fault him for being a good friend, a loyal friend.

  He extended his hand, and the two men bumped fists.

  Bingley said, “A while back I started to fall for a girl, a girl neither one of us knew very well. Remember?”

  Darcy nodded.

  “We were working on this side of the country, and you mentioned some concerns about this girl. About how maybe I was more into her than she was me, and you gave me the option to go back to the West Coast and finish up some loose ends and get my bearings back.”

  “I did. I regret interfering.”

  “I don’t. You were right.” There was a gasp in the room. “I did need to get my bearings. I needed to understand what it was I was feeling.”

  “Which was?” Darcy tucked the notecards Bingley had given him earlier into an interior jacket pocket.

  “That I was madly in love with this girl. That I was afraid she wouldn’t feel the same for me. How could she? She’s smart, kind, and beautiful. She's far too good for me. That’s why I went back home. It was easier than putting myself out there and getting turned away.” Bingley found Jane in the crowd and focused his attention on her. “What did I have to offer a woman as remarkable as her?”

  “So what changed?” Darcy’s voice penetrated Bingley’s single-minded focus on Jane. He couldn’t tell if he was getting through to her, her expression impassive.

  “Lots of things really. You can attest to this, but I was, shall we say, very grouchy the entire time I was back home.”

  Darcy nodded.

  “Yes, you were,” Margaret Elliott called out. Others laughed.

  “I’m sorry you were witness to it, Margaret,” Bingley said.

  “That’s alright. I was in much the same place,” she said.

  Darcy said, “You were out of sorts. You reminded me of… well, me. I didn’t see you take any time off. You worked ninety-hour weeks between Pemberley International and the charity you and Margaret started.”

  Bingley sat back in the chair and rubbed his hand across his chin. “But none of that is essential. Here’s what really happened. As an act of self-flagellation, I decided to re-watch dating videos this woman made. Oh sure, I�
��d watched them before, several times. Initially, I found these videos off-putting. See, the videos spoke to me. Reached right in and whispered to my heart.” He held up a hand. “I know that sounds corny, but bear with me. I’m a man in love. Like I said, the videos spoke to something deep inside but, trouble was, the videos weren’t for me. They were for everyone and…” He shook his head, then rubbed a hand down his face.

  Bingley continued after a deep sign. “Anyway, I decided to watch them again. Watching her on the screen confused me because I had this abundance of emotion. Mostly, I missed her. And recognizing that was when I actually saw the video from a different perspective. I heard what she was saying.”

  Darcy said, “Which was?”

  “Jane spoke of a couple that instantly connected. When together, this couple doesn't have to talk because their heart knows what the other is saying.”

  A buzz went around the room.

  Darcy gestured, palm up, as if to say what of it? “And?”

  “And I realized that was the reason why I was taking these videos so personally. When I’m with this woman, I don’t need words. I don’t need for anything but her. The videos made me feel foolish, as if I'd imagined my feelings, and she was making the videos because she didn't feel as I did. Stupidly, I equated the videos to her—the videos and this woman were the same.” He shook his head. “It’s hard to explain, but suffice to say, I was behaving and reacting like a moron, a clueless imbecile. That's why I took the opportunity to return to the West Coast to escape all these emotions. They unnerved me, and I didn’t know what to do about it.”

  “Do you now know what to do?” Darcy asked.

  Bingley shook his head. “I only know this”—he looked at Jane—“I love you, Jane Bennet. I think I have from the first moment I saw you. I’ve never felt as strong a connection to anyone as I do you.” He stood. “I know I’ve let you down. I know I’ve said and done the wrong things. For that I am sorry. Truly, deeply sorry.”

  He walked to her and pulled her from her chair. When she was standing before him he dropped to one knee. People in the group gasped, another squealed.

  “Jane Bennet, I know you said you've forgiven me, but I'm pleading for a second chance. I’m a stupid man, but when I’m with you I’m a better man. I love you. I adore you. I will spend my life making it up to you. Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something, too.”

  She stared down at him, searching his face. The moment hung between them heavy and pulsing. Jane knew she had two choices. She could hold onto her hurt and fear or she could open her heart to him once again and possibly get hurt again. Jane knew what she wanted.

  She pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from crying out. Happiness was bursting from within her. She then pushed a lock of hair from his forehead and said, “Of course, I feel it. Why do you think I’m so upset? You really hurt me.”

  “It’ll never happen again. I promise. I love you.”

  Two tears rolled down her face.

  Bingley stood and wiped them away. “I’m so sorry. Please say you'll give me a chance to make it up to you.”

  Jane shook her head. “I don't need you to make it up to me. I only need you from here on out.”

  He swept her into his arms. “I've missed you desperately,” he whispered.

  “I love you,” she said softly.

  He held onto her tighter, intending to never let go.

  Chapter Sixteen

  From the journal of Jane Bennet

  February 2018

  * * *

  I can't believe everything that's happened. He loves me. As much as I love him. He has always loved me. As I have him. From the first moment I set eyes on him. I wasn't wrong, I haven't misread the signs. Comfort comes with knowing my instincts weren't off. More comfort (and happiness) comes from knowing the man I love feels the same.

  If I didn't think he'd have a heart attack, I'd make a video about how important communication is. How important being honest is. Perhaps I can convince Charlie to make it with me. Might not be a bad idea. Maybe a video of us as a couple will put this video stuff to rest. One can hope.

  I snuck out and met Charlie earlier. I say "snuck out" because we were desperate to be alone and didn't want anyone to see. Not Emma, certainly not Caroline, and specifically not my mother. Having one of us go to the other's room was out of the question. I have no interest in reading how my mother would scandalize that. So we slipped away from the after-dinner mingling. Emma had opened up the doors that connected the dining room to a second larger room devoid of furniture but not design. Large crystal chandeliers cast diamond-colored light around the room. A ten-man ensemble played big band music. The mood was very happy and fun.

  We blew out of there as quickly as we could. I went out one door, and a while later Charlie went out the opposite one. I'm not sure we were fooling anyone, but we weren't followed. Charlie scored some champagne and strawberries, and we hid in the library, snuggling on a couch near the windows with the only light coming from the full moon. There we talked about what comes next. We want to be together, and our first obstacle is he lives on the West Coast and I on the East. Tomorrow Charlie will talk with Darcy about working remotely from the East Coast. We also talked about my job and the unknown state of Meryton. So any move won't be permanent until we know the fate of Meryton. We talked about Caroline, and Charlie confided some background about Caroline that I would have never imagined. Admittedly, my anger toward her has softened in light of this information. I can only hope in time she will learn to trust me with these secrets so we can have some sort of a relationship that's not steeped in anger. Or fear. Or whatever else it is she might be feeling. Eventually, she will be my sister-in-law.

  An odd thing happened while Charlie and I were hiding in the library. A man came in. He stuck to the shadows. I couldn't make him out.

  “It's Darcy,” Chas whispered in my ear.

  Instinct told Charlie and I to be as quiet as possible. Darcy was up to something, and we were curious enough to want to know what. Darcy stood next to a set of windows about twenty feet from us. I could make him out in the moonlight, just barely. At first I thought he wanted to escape the crowd like we had. That he was looking for some quiet. But then the door opened and a woman slipped in. I knew it was a woman because of the rustling sound of her dress.

  “Can you see who it is?” Charlie breathed the question so softly in my ear I almost couldn't hear him. I didn't so I shook my head. But then she stepped into the light and I nearly gasped when the woman crossed through a sliver of moonlight. I had to cover my mouth to contain my surprise.

  Elizabeth! My own sister! I search my mind for what possible reason this secret meeting could be about.

  “Is that Elizabeth?” Charlie asked.

  I nodded, captivated by the scene before me.

  When she reached Darcy, he turned to her and whispered something. Both Charlie and I leaned forward but still couldn't hear.

  Quickly their exchange became heated. How they managed to keep their voices low was beyond me, especially with Elizabeth's strong spirit. When she gets a bee in her bonnet, her voice inevitably raises. One moment she's pointing her finger in his face and the next he's grasped her by the upper arms and pulled her close. A second later they're kissing madly.

  I may have gasped then. Elizabeth and Darcy? When? How? My mind is reeling.

  I don't know who ended the kiss. Or even how it ended. A cloud must have crossed over the moon because they were cast in darkness as it passed. When the light came back, they were apart, his hands on her face. Then Elizabeth turned and hurried from the room, Darcy chasing after her.

  Charlie and I must have sat in silence a while. He seemed as stunned as me.

  Then he said, “We need to get to the bottom of this.”

  I couldn't agree more.

  Epilogue

  Matchmaking of The Uber Rich

  By Joanna Bennet

  Hello dearest friends,

  Do I have some j
uicy morsels for you. Want to know how the highbrow lives? How they find love? Well, you’re lucky because yours truly spent the weekend among the uber-rich movers and shakers. I have all the inside information you could want or need. So grab a cold drink and some snacks. These tasty treats I have are going to leave you craving more.

  Let’s set the scene. The elite like to get together at the New York estate of Emma Woodhouse. The mansion, a gift from her wheat baron father, is a fifteen-bedroom farmhouse-style cottage facing one of the Finger Lakes, and in the summer boasts a tennis court, horseback riding, tubing, and skiing. But in the winter, the guests are expected to gather inside and cuddle with one another. Is it a case of love the one you're with? Sample at your leisure to find the taste you like?

  Hm, as a mother whose two oldest daughters attended, I was relieved to discover it was not. Yes, in full disclosure, this writer had two children attend the event. My daughters are not uber-rich and were woefully out of place. Yet, there they were. Invited under the guise of being matchmakers. However, unlike this writer who was an odd number to the paired guests, my daughters were guests themselves. No matter how much they protested that truth.

  Let us not focus on my disappointment with my children, but talk about the quick beating hearts and eyelash flutters that went on this weekend at Lady of the Lake.

  Who will end up with whom?

  The players are the most sought-after bachelors, no surprise there. William Darcy, Charles Bingley, Frederick Wentworth, and John Middleton to name a few. And the delicate flowers ripe for their picking? Caroline Bingley, professional viper, Margaret Elliott, fundraiser and socialite, Anne de Bourgh, Emma Woodhouse (Of course, she’s looking for a match. Why would she even go to such trouble if she weren’t?), Marianne Dashwood (shockingly clueless about what lies beneath a handsome face) and the list goes on. Forty people. Twenty couples.