Miss Charming: “Oh, you rascal!”
Miss Erstwhile: “Do you know the name of this tune, Mr. Nobley?”
Mr. Nobley: “I do not. It is a country tune.”
Captain East: . . .
Miss Heartwright: . . .
Colonel Andrews: “I beg your pardon, Miss Charming. I seem to have stuck my foot under yours yet again.”
Miss Charming: “Spit spot!”
Miss Erstwhile: “It is such a relief, Mr. Nobley, to already know that you find this exercise vulgar and your partner unworthy. It saves us the idle chitchat.”
Mr. Nobley: “And yet you chat away.”
Aunt Saffronia: “Lovely dance! Shall I play another?”
Miss Erstwhile: “What say you, Mr. Nobley? Ready to be done with me?”
“I think . . .”
He looked at her, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze like a wash of warm energy. He was still holding one of her hands from the dance, and he looked down at her fingers. His thumb moved slightly, the barest brush against her knuckle, and yet it sent another bone-deep shiver through her body. His brow worried, and she held her breath, both fearfully and excitedly anxious for what he would say next.
“I . . .” His manner stiffened, and he dropped her hand, declaring, “I will retire early. I bid you a good evening.”
“And so ends the fun,” Colonel Andrews said.
“Since when was Mr. Nobley a requirement for fun?” Janesaid in her playful tone, though beneath it she spotted a twinge of hurt.
Captain East laughed. “You are a wit, Miss Erstwhile.”
Or a clown, thought Jane.
“Wait, I don’t feel right . . . all that dancing . . .” Miss Charming put a hand to her forehead, stumbled toward the departing Nobley, and half fainted delicately into his arms. He was forced to put his arm around her and walk her slowly up the stairs to her chamber.
Miss Charming peeked back under her arm to wink at Jane. She saluted her back with two fingers. Well played, Miss Charming. The game was afoot.
Boyfriend #9
Juan Inskeep, age twenty-five
Gay.
Day 7
After breakfast, the gentlemen went shooting, and Aunt Saffronia was busy helping Miss Heartwright move into Pembrook Park. Apparently, whatever charms the Cottage had held were worn to tatters. After the sausage-and-jellied-egg breakfast, Jane and Miss Charming sat alone in the morning room. They stared at the brown-flecked wallpaper.
“I’m so bored. This isn’t what Mrs. Wattlesbrook promised me yesterday.”
“We could play whist,” said Jane. “Whist in the morning, whist in the evening, ain’t we got fun?”
The wallpaper hadn’t changed. Jane kept an eye on it all the same.
“I mean, is this what you expected?” asked Miss Charming. “What were you hoping for?”
The question was so sincere, Jane couldn’t help answering with equal sincerity. “Everything. A new me. A better me.A better world. Love. A fantasy so perfect and yet unsustainable that it brought me firmly back into reality so I could get unstuck and claim the life I’ve wanted since I was a little girl.”
