I flinched; if it wasn’t a direct hit, he was at least prodding the vicinity of a sore spot. Because of course my epic screwup was even more embarrassing given the way I’d handed down judgment on everyone else, with nary a thought for complicating factors such as the animal instinct to keep doing something that feels really good. Like being in close proximity to Alex Ritter, as often as possible.
But did that make me an Emma Woodhouse, blithely dispensing advice while ignoring the truth of what was going on all around her, and in her own heart? Surely I wasn’t that blind.
“So you’re saying Alex was my Mr. Knightley?” That would be a far more comfortable interpretation. And Alexwasan older man, though our age difference was about a tenth that between Emma and her neighbor/love interest.
Jasper shook his head. “I’m not talking about Lover Boy. Though it does sound like you’ve basically been going around telling everyone how mean he was to poor, misunderstood Wickham.”
“Wait.” I held up a hand. “Does that mean Alex is my Darcy? Because that would make me—” I couldn’t bring myself to say it aloud. Who didn’t secretly dream of being compared to Elizabeth Bennet, the witty and vivacious heroine ofPride and Prejudice? As for Mr. Darcy ... I shivered pleasantly.
“Simmer down there,” Jasper tutted. “I wouldn’t go that far. A wee bit fixed in your opinions, though? Quick to rush to judgment?” He tapped his chin, pretending to consider.
The sad part was, I couldn’t even argue. I felt his words seeping through the cracks in my memory, altering my vision of the past. Had I been hasty? Unfair? Certainly to Alex.
“Then again,” he went on, “you might be more of an Anne Elliot, trying so hard to be a good girl you end up sad and alone. Or one of the Dashwood sisters, caught up in your own drama. Perhaps a Catherine Morland, whose mind is warped byreading too much?”
I cast him a baleful look. “Now you’re showing off.”
“That’s what you think. I’m just getting warmed up—”
“If you compare me to Fanny Price I will scream.” Of all Austen’s novels,Mansfield Parkis the only one in which it’s hard not to root for the villain over the milquetoast heroine. Fanny would never have passionately embraced Alex Ritter in the school hallway. She didn’t have the backbone for it. And despite everything that had followed, that was one part of the evening I couldn’t bring myself to regret.
“Your words, not mine. But since we’re on the subject, I’ve always thought Fanny missed out when she sent Henry Crawford packing. He was way more interesting than Edmund.”
Rakishlyinteresting. A would-be seducer who ends up falling for the target of his attentions, only to be cruelly rejected when she chooses the stick-in-the-mud instead. Except Alex wasn’t actually much of a scoundrel, as it turned out, despite my preconceived ideas about him. I shook my head. Stupid Fanny. Stupidme.
“Let’s say I believe you,” I began. “For the sake of argument. All it tells me is what I’ve already done wrong, which I sort of already knew.” Jasper gave me a skeptical look, but I hurried on. “What I need help with is figuring out what to donow.”
“I don’t know. Go tour his palatial country estate with our least embarrassing relatives?”
“Forget Mr. Darcy. What about myfriends?”
My brother frowned. “I thought you were pining for a dude.”
“That’s not pertinent,” I said, dodging the question. “He won’t—it was never going to happen anyway.”
“Huh.”
To my extreme frustration, I couldn’t tell whether he was agreeing with me or not. “I guess I could do a reread of the major Austen novels, take some notes ... ” My voice trailed off as Jasper gave me a thumbs down.
“No way. It’s time to act.”
“Act?” I pictured a darkened stage with a pool of light in the middle, and me giving a dramatic monologue.
“Shake things up, instead of sitting back and waiting for someone else to call the shots. I bet you’d still be following Anjuli around if she hadn’t kicked you to the curb.”
I flinched but couldn’t deny it.
“And now you’re just letting your friends go without a fight.” He shook his head, as if my lack of nerve was a grave personal disappointment. “When’s the last time you took a risk? I’m talking IRL, not in your reading material.”
At first, I couldn’t summon an example. Then I remembered that day at Toil & Trouble. I’d put myself forward to warn them about Alex Ritter—and reaped the rewards of that impulsive decision, far beyond anything I could have imagined.
Until it all fell apart.
“I don’t know, Jasper. It’s like you’re asking me to stick my hand back in the fire.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m asking you to get close enough to roast a freaking marshmallow.” Standing, he scratched his belly. “What about that?” He pointed at the Baardvaark flyer on my desk.
“What about it?”
