Jane and Austen

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Jane and Austen Page 16

by Stephanie Fowers


  A shriek made me swing around. Ann-Marie crumpled into a heap of red skirts in the middle of the room, holding her ankle. “Oh! Help. My ankle. Help!”

  “Ann-Marie!” I wiped my hands off on the nearest towel and ran to her.

  She wiped at her dry eyes. “I stepped on my foot wrong,” she moaned. I knew when she was faking, but, too late, I noticed that Dancey was more than willing to play her game.

  “Are you all right?” Dancey moved closer. He wasn’t looking at her—his eyes were on me.

  I lifted my hands helplessly. “Ann-Marie, uh, has weak ankles.”

  Junie hopped off her counter and sauntered over to inspect the madness for herself. She rolled her eyes when she saw Ann-Marie conning poor Dancey with the ankle act. Junie probably thought that I had something to do with it. “Jane?” she asked. “Can’t you take Ann-Marie somewhere else to heal?”

  I blushed. “Yeah, just a sec.”

  “Yes, yes, I need someone to carry me to my car.” Ann-Marie’s eyes were on Dancey. “I’ll never be able to make it on my own.”

  Dancey knelt next to her. “Would you settle for my hand?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said slowly. “Maybe you should check my ankle to see if it’s sprained before I put any weight on it first?”

  Dancey glanced up at me, and I noticed his eyes twinkled with amusement. “Jane, perhaps you should call for an ambulance. This girl is plainly too hurt to make it all the way home.”

  “It’s too bad,” I said, taking his cue. “There will be dancing tonight. So many cute guys. She’ll really be missing out.”

  A look of genuine distress ran across Ann-Marie’s face. “Maybe I should test my ankle first. I can’t miss out on dancing.”

  “I don’t know.” I tapped her ankle. “Does this hurt?”

  She sucked in her breath, but after a moment screwed her face into a brave look. “It doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it did.”

  Dancey’s large hands wrapped around Ann-Marie’s smaller ones, and he helped her to her feet. Ann-Marie took a few experimental steps until she nodded in satisfaction.

  “It’s a miracle,” Dancey said. “She can walk.”

  “And dance,” she reminded him. “I can dance.”

  “Then you must save one for me,” he said in his proper British accent.

  She shrieked out a laugh. Dancey had just made a nineteen-year-old girl’s night—maybe her year. My heart softened towards him, too. “Right now?” Ann-Marie asked.

  “Not while everyone is still bidding their final farewells to the bride and groom,” Dancey said with that same lingering bitterness from before. “Why don’t you enjoy the rest of your night until I meet you later?”

  She nodded and practically ran out the door, leaving me still kneeling at Dancey’s feet. He smiled and wrapped his hands underneath my arms to help me up. I gasped at his strength. My feet hit the ground and he held me close, his face near mine, not letting me go. “Now you, on the other hand,” he said under his breath, “I wouldn’t mind carrying to your car.”

  “I don’t have one.” My eyes widened when I realized what I had just admitted—I didn’t want to be the social inferior in this relationship. “I have a bike. I don’t need one—a car, I mean.” I was babbling now. “I live here, so …”

  “Are you a mermaid who lives on the foam of the ocean, or are you a nymph in the woods?”

  I relaxed at his teasing tone. “I’m the evil doll they keep in the attic.”

  “A treasure then.” He released me, but stayed close, as though he was afraid I’d wander away. “I wanted to thank you for what you said to Taylor. She needs more friends like you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Her bridesmaids seem … interesting.”

  Oh. He was just as confused by Taylor’s friends as I was. Maybe that made him worried for the groom. I gave him a reassuring smile. “Yeah. Taylor’s nothing like them—she’s stressed right now. That’s all. I hope we can still keep in touch when she moves to London—she’s not into long-distance relationships … which is why Bigley was so surprising to all of us who know her. It must be true love.”

  Dancey looked pained, and I realized that he didn’t like talking about his best friend’s relationship with Taylor. Did he not want to lose his friend to someone he saw as unstable or was he so miserable with his love life that he didn’t like to see anyone else happy?

  Crawley’s voice drifted over to where we stood by the kitchen door. From where we were, we could see him standing by Bigley with the mic. “I look up to my big brother,” Crawley said. “We might not be blood-related, but I want to do everything he does …”

  “Come with me.” Dancey caught my hand in his. “I need some air.”

  That sounded very intriguing. I let him lead me past Junie’s watchful eyes and out the back door. Tiny decorative lights sparkled through the trees outside and glittered over the top of the pool. The waves from the beach muffled the speeches inside. Dancey led me to the railing that overlooked a patch of trees framing the bright moon as it rose over the crashing waves.

  Dancey wasn’t looking at the view; he was looking at me. His hand went to my hair, and he slid a curl from my carefully arranged updo. “You stand out from all those girls painted in red inside. You’re stunning.”

  Austen would be frustrated to hear it—I could hardly wait to tease him about how his plan had backfired. Dancey’s fingers gently massaged the back of my hand and I banished all thoughts of the overprotective Austen out of my head. “I didn’t want to come to Bigley’s wedding,” Dancey said, “but I’m glad that I did, Jane.”

  His eyes went to my lips. He wanted to kiss me. Things were going too fast for me, which made me realize that I really wasn’t into flings. I moistened my lips and decided to taint the situation with the ridiculous. “You always wanted to be a valet, huh?” I asked.

  “I always wanted to be with a girl who didn’t care who I was.” His fingers caught my waist, and he pulled me closer. He smelled good. He was tall and manly and dressed really well—his arms felt like they belonged around me. His lips tipped up in a smile, and I knew he was going to kiss me.

  Every girl instinct screamed at me that all I had to do was close my eyes and enjoy the moment. I cleared my throat instead. “Why didn’t you want to go to Bigley’s wedding?”

  That killed the moment and I knew it. His hands loosened over me. “Weddings are—you know—they’re depressing.”

  And now he had killed the moment—pretty much stabbed it, skewered it and burned the evidence. “You don’t like marriage?” I asked.

  “No. No. Jane, no. It’s just that I know Bigley …”

  Now I was worried. “He’s not good enough for Taylor?”

  “No.”

  My heart fluttered. “You don’t think Taylor’s good enough for your best friend?”

  He laughed. “Are you through with accusing me of everything under the sun?”

  The offense I felt on my friend’s behalf made me all prickly, and I couldn’t even meet his gaze because I was so confused. I shifted away from him. “Then why?”

  “Because I’m a jerk. Hey, I’m sorry.” He reached out and rubbed my back and I felt the prickles start to recede under his warm touch. Half of me wanted to pull away, but his eyes were beseeching on mine. “I shouldn’t have said that. I haven’t been the easiest person to get along with lately. I don’t even know what my problem is. Do you forgive me, Jane?”

  “I …” There was nothing to be angry about really—it’s just that I wanted moments that added up to something. And if things like marriage and commitment really meant nothing to Dancey, then I didn’t want to get involved, because our love was doomed before it started. I had thought that I could relax and just have fun, but now I realized that I didn’t want another Austen.

  Faint music from Pemburkley Hall reached us from inside. The uncomfortable toasts were over, and the dancing had begun. “Jane?” Dancey tipped my chin up
so he could look into my eyes. “I promise not to talk like that anymore. I like being around you. You’re different. You make me happy.”

  His charm was really hard to fight against. My doubts wrestled with my natural instinct to enjoy being with him. My smile won out. “You make me happy, too,” I said.

  Dancey looked relieved. “Do you forgive me?”

  I nodded.

  “Then dance with me?”

  I studied his hand—the fingers were long and tapered, perfect for handling a guitar, perfect for holding hands. I accepted it and wasn’t sorry when his fingers wrapped around mine in his strangely comforting touch.

  The faint beat of the music followed his movements. It mixed with the sounds of the waves pushing up against the beach. He led me over the balcony, the music guiding me into his arms. The flickering tiki torches fought the dark enough for me to study his eyes that drank me in. It was like Dancey couldn’t get enough of me, treasured me as much as I felt any hero should.

  It wasn’t long before Dancey went after his kiss again. His fingers strayed through my hair and trailed over my ears to my jaw, and there he held me captive with nothing but the force of his light touch. He didn’t ask, but I didn’t pull away this time, and he took it as permission.

  His lips met mine, tentatively at first as if afraid I’d push him away. I wasn’t sure of his intentions, but I remembered Austen’s words—showing affection didn’t mean commitment. It meant something else, an expressed interest—and I was interested.

  Dancey’s lips slanted over mine, and he deepened his kiss. My arms wrapped convulsively around him. I was afraid I’d fall if I didn’t hold on. He became more confident, trailing kisses over my cheeks and neck. Then Dancey’s kiss turned desperate somehow—almost like it was mirroring the kiss that Taylor had given Bigley at the wedding rehearsal.

  I told my brain to shut off and enjoy the moment, but as soon as Dancey’s grip tightened on me, I wasn’t sure if he knew that he held me anymore. A girl maybe, but not me. It didn’t make sense. Maybe I was imagining it.

  And then I wasn’t.

  I pushed my hand against his chest. He gave me a curious look when I stepped back. I took a deep breath, not sure what to say. His fingers stroked my arm. His other hand was tangled through my hair. I knew that he wanted nothing more than to go back to kissing me again.

  “Jane!”

  I turned. Captain Redd stood by the kitchen door. I could only see his silhouette from the light of the kitchen, but his broad, unyielding shoulders told me his identity. “Are you out here?”

  Dancey squeezed my arm and gave me a reassuring smile before pecking me lightly on the lips and stepping away.

  “Oh, there you are, Dancey. Junie said you might be out here, too.” Redd stepped further into the darkness. “Jane,” his voice dripped with disapproval when he found me. I felt his condemnation pierce through my bones. Everything the captain thought about me had just been validated. Here I was lurking in the darkness with a guest when I was supposed to be running the show.

  “Redd,” I forced my voice to be light, but it was husky and it gave me away. I cleared my throat. “Did Taylor need me?”

  “Yes. Right away.” Redd ducked back into the kitchen, his shoulders stiff.

  Dancey laughed beside me. “What’s his problem?”

  “I’m supposed to be inside.” To my horror, I heard the stress come out in my voice.

  He changed his tone. “I’m sorry. This is my fault.” He started helping me with my hair—it was all over the place. “You should’ve left it down,” he said. “It would’ve been less obvious.”

  “I didn’t know that I was going to—”

  “No, of course not. I didn’t plan for it either, if that’s what you’re thinking.” He laughed and managed to get some of my hair back up before bumping noses with me.

  That got me to laughing too. “Dancey, you’re a fast mover,” I accused. “I shouldn’t have come out here with you. You are too charming and I’m … well, I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “What?” he asked me. “This?” He kissed me again, but this time his eyes were on mine, and I saw the tenderness behind his gaze. I must’ve been wrong about him before. I was letting my romantic ideals ruin a good thing.

  “Yes, this,” I said. And since the joke was too good to resist, I playfully pecked his lips with my own in a light kiss. He lifted me off my feet, stealing my breath away. Before setting me back down, he caught my ear with another kiss. The sound of it echoed through my hearing. My hair fell down around us. His hands had shredded through my carefully arranged hairdo again.

  “It’s hopeless,” he whispered into my ear. “We’ll leave it down for now.”

  “I can’t.”

  Or all bets with Austen were off.

  They might already be. For once, I didn’t have to fantasize about love from a book because it was much more fascinating in real life. Not attempting to fix my hair again, Dancey took my hand possessively and led me into the party inside.

  Chapter 13

  “It is the greatest absurdity … . The folly of not allowing people to be comfortable at home—and the folly of people’s not staying comfortably at home when they can!”

  —Jane Austen, Emma

  Carrying my high heels on the tips of my fingers, I stole through the hall that was outside the lobby, feeling the soft grey rug beneath my toes. Freddy headed the opposite direction from the lobby, looking tired. His dark hair was its usual messy perfection.

  “Where’s Austen?” I asked him as we passed.

  Freddy gave me a long stare before answering. “Gone to bed … like any sane person.”

  That meant that I could sneak through the lobby to my bedroom unseen. Austen hadn’t been at the party when I’d returned with Dancey. It was a good thing, because Austen was way too observant, and I didn’t feel like fighting with him about Dancey right now. I was in the middle of my own argument with myself.

  I tiptoed through the hall and pushed the door open, only to meet Austen’s eyes at the checkout counter. He took one look at my hair toppling freely over my shoulders and turned to the girl sitting at the counter with him. “Hey, Junie Be Fair, look who the party spat out?”

  Junie skewered me with a disgusted glance before ducking behind Austen’s laptop again. She patted his arm, whispering something that I couldn’t hear, and then before I could use the distraction to move through the room unnoticed, she left without saying a word to me. Junie was so full of secrets and drama. I had mystery too. I just didn’t let everybody know it.

  I gave Austen a tight smile and tried to slip past. His voice stopped me. “What did you do to Junie? I think she hates you.”

  “I think I breathe too much,” I said. “It’s highly offensive.” I placed my hand on the doorknob rather than explain that Junie saw me as competition and it was all Austen’s fault. The phone at the checkout counter rang.

  “Wait.” Austen pushed a button on the phone to silence it. “How did everything go tonight?”

  I hunched guiltily. My emotions were so jumbled. “You didn’t stick around at the party?” I asked.

  “I lost interest after Dancey declared how much he wanted Taylor to be happy.”

  I gulped, trying to figure out a way to defend Dancey and myself for finding him so interesting. “Maybe Dancey just doesn’t have a way with words.”

  “Yeah, because he doesn’t make a living out of them,” Austen said. “He can’t even make it to his best friend’s rehearsal dinner on time. Is he going to dump the whole bachelor party on me? I’ve got a deadline here. I’ve already wasted too much time plumping up Taylor for the sacrificial altar to the wedding gods.”

  I dropped my hand from the doorknob and returned to Austen, stealing the seat Junie had just vacated. “So you gave me the water for Taylor and then left, huh?” It was my way of fishing to see if he had seen me with Dancey—I didn’t want him to think I was an idiot for ignoring his warning.

  Judg
ing by Austen’s expression, he had no idea what had happened. Either that or he was giving me his best poker face. He shrugged. The phone rang again, and he stared down at it, looking annoyed.

  “You going to get that?” I asked.

  “No. It’s after midnight.” He hung the phone up again, his eyes going back to me. “At least Taylor’s getting out of here while the getting’s good.”

  Was he dissing my job again? “Why’s that?”

  “It’s … well.” He ran his hand through his hair, making it stand on end. I wanted to reach out and fix it, but forced myself to stay put. “How do you like your job?” he asked. “Have you ever thought of going somewhere else after Taylor leaves?”

  My stomach sank. The night was going from confusing to worse. Had Austen’s parents sent my former crush back to sack me? “Austen.” I planted my hands against the counter. “You had better spit out what you want to say right now!”

  “I just …” He stared at my hands. “I can get you references. You can go anywhere you want.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Had he seen me with Dancey? Sure, it was unprofessional, but I could’ve at least gotten a warning first. I felt lightheaded. “You’re firing me?”

  “What?” He looked startled. “No! It’s … this is all confidential. I can’t say anything, but there will be changes at North Abbey, and I just want to make sure that you know you have options. That’s all. You’re talented. You could get anything you go after.”

  “I have ways of finding out what you’re talking about, Austen.”

  He looked uncomfortable. “Probably not.”

  “Wait,” I said as a sick feeling permeated me. “Junie knows what’s going on, doesn’t she?” I was almost sure of it. All the secret looks. The image of Austen sidled up next to Junie in the lobby, all cozy with my archrival, came back to haunt me. He had no intention of telling me the big life-changing news, but Junie knew everything.

  Austen’s brow rose in confusion. “Yeah, Junie knows. What’s the big deal?”

  Because he had confided in her instead of me, that was why. The two clearly had something going on. And I had something going on with Dancey. I took a deep breath, trying to be fair about this. “Okay Austen, that’s fine. Just tell me what’s happening.”

 

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