Page 76 of To Swoon and to Spar
Which was how she found herself now, standing before the Audleys’ front door, her hand raised to knock. “Steady,” she murmured to herself. “New Jane. This is the New Jane.”
Summoning her courage, she rapped firmly upon the door, which opened a moment later, and an extremely elderly, kind-faced butler ushered her within.
“Lady Penvale,” she announced grandly. “I’m here to see my husband.”
Propelled by the force of her own bravado, she swept into the house, barely slowing her gait enough to allow the butler to lead her to the dining room, open the door, and—
Oh, and it was worse than she could have imagined.Whyhad she thought this was a good idea? There was a sea of faces before her, all lit by candlelight. She scanned them, registering dimly that she knew all these people, that these were Penvale’s closest friends, but in that moment, they seemed like a school of sharks and she the unlucky fish dropped into their midst.
“Jane.”
Out of the blurred array of faces, one came into sharp focus. It was Penvale, of course, rising from his chair, the hasty scrape of other chairs indicating that his motion had reminded the other gentlemen present of their manners as they, too, jumped to their feet. Penvale, looking so familiar, so dear, his hair combed neatly back, his face a bit paler than it had been in Cornwall, his eyes—
Not lookingentirelyfamiliar.
“You got spectacles!” The words came out more accusing than Jane intended, but she felt a laugh burbling up within her as she spoke, and she clapped her hands to her mouth to contain it. He was wearing gold-rimmed spectacles, but behind them was the steady hazel gazethat had become such a comfort to her at some point. That she’d found she didn’t want to live without.
“All the better for reading Miss Austen, I’ve found.” He smiled at her; somewhere, someone else at the table emitted a happy sigh, followed by a faint “Ouch!” as the sigher was presumably elbowed into silence by a companion.
“And for spotting the hidden doors to secret staircases, I would imagine,” Jane ventured. The words were an offering, one that he rapidly picked up.
“That, too.” A quirk of the mouth. “If I’d listened to you sooner, it might have cleared up a few things immediately.” A deliberate pause, a widening smile. “But then I’d have denied myself so much fun in the looking.”
“Was it?” Fun, she meant, but she didn’t need to elaborate; she could tell from the look in his eyes, the faint crinkles around them as he smiled, that he understood.
“It was.” He began to walk toward her from the opposite side of the table; hewouldbe seated as far away as possible, just to ensure that no one else missed a word. Jane no longer cared overmuch, however, as she drank in the sight of him approaching. She’d like to watch him walk toward her for the rest of her life, she thought.
“In any case, I was thinking it was most fortunate that I picked up my new spectacles this afternoon, so that I’d be able to read on my carriage journey tomorrow.”
“Your— Oh.” She frowned. “Where are you going?”
He rounded the head of the table, only a few feet away from her now. “Iwaspreparing to leave at first light, you see,” he continued. “I thought a bit of sea air might serve me well.” He came to a halt before her.
Jane felt her own mouth curving upward in reply. “Did you?”
“I’ve found cliff paths and flocks of sheep to be particularly scenic in the summertime.”
She reached out for his hand. “All times of year, really, I think.”
His grip tightened on hers, pulling her toward him. “You’ve stolen a march on me, though.”
“I like to keep a step ahead of you,” she said as his free arm sneaked around her waist, pulling her even closer.
“That does seem to be a particular skill of yours.” He leaned closer. “Coming here—to town, when I know you hate it—”
“I find it’s much lovelier in June than it is in January, you see,” she said lightly.
His eyes were warm on hers. “And here, tonight—” His voice dropped now, so quiet that, even if the others could hear him, she knew these words were meant only for her. “I know you don’t like things like this.”
She lifted a shoulder. He wasn’t wrong, not entirely; she could feel the eyes of the room on her, and the thought still made her heart pound in her chest. But she knew that these people were dear to Penvale—that they might become dear to her, too, with a little effort. “I find I’m learning to like all sorts of things I once didn’t,” she informed him.
His eyes were smiling at her. “Things.”
She smiled back. “People.”
“I’m so glad to hear it,” he said. “Because I was worried it might be deucedly awkward when I showed up on your doorstep next week to tell you that I love you.”
Jane’s heart skipped a beat at the words. “Do you?” she managed,which she thought was rather impressive, considering that she suddenly felt the strangest urge to weep.
