When Matilda led him away, Jane announced to the empty room, “If you’re listening, Big Brother, I refuse to be Fanny Price.”
Boyfriend #8
Paul Diaz, twentysomething
He was in her watercolor class, so cute and the sweet kind of shy. They obviously clicked, the attraction thrilling between them, lacing their every casual word with a deeper subtext of admiration and desire. Between the relaxed conversations, “accidental” brushing of hands, and coy catching of glances, they were basically dating, even if they technically never went on a date. She gave him openings but guessed he was too timid to ask her out. The last day of class, she waited for him outside the art building, thinking she had nothing to lose. After all, one of them had to finally ease the tension of this semester-long will they/won’t they, so they would have a fun story to tell their kids.
“Hey, Paul, my work is having this fancy dinner party next weekend, and the food’s supposed to be great. Would you like to go with me?”
“Oh, uh, maybe, I’ll have to check,” he said. And then, “Sorry, how do I know you?”
There’s always something to lose.
Day 6, Continued
That night, the precedence walk from drawing room to dining was in upheaval.
“Let me see,” Aunt Saffronia said, catching herself just before she chewed on a fingernail. “Mr. Nobley, would you be so kind as to take my arm? Colonel Andrews, would you escort Miss Charming? And Captain East (so happy to hear of your promotion, my dear! And much deserved, I am certain), if you will accompany Miss Heartwright, I believe you two know each other. Jane dear, you are certain you do not mind coming along alone? I can dine in my boudoir, if you prefer? No? Sir John extends his apologies for not returning to the Park, but he plans to stay in town to be near the apothecary until at least two weeks hence, so I am afraid you will not see him again before departing. Well, now that is settled, shall we dine?”
All through the soup, game bird, fish, fruit, and walnut courses, and later in the drawing room, Jane flirted madly(in a guarded, Regency sort of way) with Colonel Andrews, who was invigorated by the attention. After it seemed clear to Jane that Miss Heartwright was uninterested in her former acquaintance, she added Captain East to her list of men-to-bat-eyelashes-at. Mr. Nobley was off-limits now, she supposed. He certainly seemed to be Miss Heartwright’s darling. But after Miss Charming’s visit to Mrs. Wattlesbrook’s customer-complaint desk, she was sure to get priority over the man of her choice. Perhaps the two ladies would fight over him. Pembrook Park was pining for a hearty ladies’ mud wrestle.
Jane, the captain, and the colonel begged out of cards, sat by the window, and made fun of Mr. Nobley. She held out a hand to Miss Charming, inviting the lady to come sit beside her and join the fun. Miss Charming snickered as she wiggled her hips between Jane and Captain East.
Jane glanced once at the garden, imagined Martin seeing her now, and felt popular and pretty—Emma Woodhouse from curls to slippers. It certainly helped that all the men were so magnificent. Unreal, actually. Austenland was feeling cozier.
“Do you think he hears us?” Jane asked. “See how he doesn’t lift his eyes from that book? In all, his manners and expression are a bittoodetermined, don’t you think?”
“Right you are, Miss Erstwhile,” Colonel Andrews said.
“His eyebrow is twitching,” Captain East said gravely.
“Why, so it is, Captain!” the colonel said. “Well observed.”
“Then again, the eyebrow twitch could be caused by some buried guilt,” Jane said.
“I believe you’re right again, Miss Erstwhile. Perhaps he does not hear us at all.”
“Of course I hear you, Andrews,” said Mr. Nobley, his eyesstill on the page. “I would have to have wool stuffed in my ears not to, the way you lot carry on.”
“I say, do not be gruff with us, Nobley, we are only having a bit of fun, and you are being rather tedious. I cannot abide it when my friends insist on being scholarly. The only member of our company who can coax you away from those books is our Miss Heartwright, but she seems altogether too pensive tonight as well, and so our cause is lost.”
Mr. Nobley did look up now, just in time to catch Miss Heartwright’s face turn away shyly.
“You might show a little more delicacy around the ladies, Andrews,” he said.
“Stuff and nonsense. I agree with Miss Erstwhile, you are acting like a scarecrow. I do not know why you put on this act, Nobley, when around the port table or out in the field you’re rather a pleasant fellow.”
“Really? That is curious,” Jane said. “Why, Mr. Nobley, are you generous in your attentions with gentlemen and yet taciturn and withdrawn around the fairer sex?”
Mr. Nobley’s eyes were back on the printed page, though they didn’t scan the lines. “Perhaps I do not possess the type of conversation that would interest a lady.”
“You say ‘perhaps’ as though you do not believe it yourself. What else might be the reason, sir?” Jane smiled. Needling Mr. Nobley was feeling like a very productive use of the evening.
“Perhaps another reason might be that I myself do not find the conversation of ladies to be very stimulating.” His eyes were dark.
“Hm, I just can’t imagine why you’re still unmarried.”
“I might say the same for you.”
