27 • Hunting

It was a few days before Mr. Bingley called again, and this time alone. Whether Mrs. Bennet’s inquiry of his friend was improper or not, was for once not judged upon by her family, for they were listening in the corridor for the response.

“Has his lordship been mortified by our humble residence?”

“No!” Charles blurted without formality. “Goodness, no! On the contrary, he has been forcibly removed to London on urgent matters. I expect his return in no less than ten days time.”

Jane rubbed her brother’s back, the initial contact a balm before it evolved into a nervous action, fisting his shirt during the hour Mr. Bingley was there. He sat with their mother without her calling them in, which was puzzling but perhaps for the better. Kitty’s fidgeting and pacing were only hushed by her stockings and lack of slippers. Though Mary did not share in her siblings’ anxieties, she eventually took Kitty’s hand, isolating her energy to one spot.

A silent explosion of limbs erupted as they ran for concealment when the drawing room door opened. Hill peeked up when they landed in the kitchen, peering around the doorway to hear Mr. Bingley say, “I am sorry I could not stay longer.”

“Oh, it’s quite all right. I’m grateful you made the time at all. Next time you call, I hope we shall be more lucky. Might that be tomorrow?”

Her children exchanged looks when it was confirmed, and then they heard the front door shut. Their mother arrived with a content lift in her step as she descended the stairs and accepted the lemon tea poured by Hill. Mary broke her siblings’ quietude. “He sounded in good spirits.”

“Yes! I think he was,” Mrs. Bennet chimed. “It is admirable, his alignment with his lordship, but I do worry how that brooding man weighs on Bingley’s bright composition.”

“He does no such thing,” James intercepted. His mother looked sympathetic, to which he insisted, “I’ve been with both of them on various occasions. Darcy only has Bingley’s best interests at heart.”

She huffed a chortle. “Well then he might put in the effort of not appearing like sharing our company holds the same enjoyment of a sour cheese room.”

James opened his mouth, but it was Mary who answered. “Perhaps the greatest secret in our differences is that they feel the same as we do under scrutiny.”

Mrs. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, dear?”

“I mean that it is no secret women seek a fine marriage, and the obvious pairing is him and Jane, but he cannot face Jane alone. He must face all of us. So he chooses a companion, to divide our gazes. Perhaps Bingley and Darcy, because of their money and positions, feel quite under attack just as we would to be so stared at. Bingley wields his charm; Darcy his stoicism.”

James felt his insides cease their swaying, calm as if after a long storm. Mrs. Bennet was absorbing and after a moment of contemplation, announced, “I’ll send a note to Netherfield.”

“Mama, let him be,” Jane pleaded.

“I merely desire to send an open invitation,” their mother chimed, “to hunt with Jamie and your father in the morning.”

James’ neck clicked when it swiveled around. “Hunt?”

* * * * * * *

Mr. Bennet was in matching spirits the hour that Charles called on the house, which was earlier than the ladies’ were dressed. Mrs. Bennet ran through the second floor in her dressing gown, and with her hair half finished while crying out, “My dear Jane! Make haste and hurry down! Someone help with your sister’s hair!”

“We will be down as soon as we can,” Jane answered.

James was otherwise in his father’s study, nursing a strong cup of tea as the house went silent for Hill to show their guest into the room. Charles was appropriately attired as he gave the room a once over and then settled in a chair around the coffee table. “Oh, this is marvelous.”

James poured for him while Mr. Bennet dumped a heap of potatoes on the empty plate. “I must admit to having already broken my fast, but this is all very kind.”

“It’s a long walk around these parts,” Mr. Bennet informed. “Double your strength.”

“We won’t use horses?”

His elder lifted mildly surprised eyes. “Oh, we won’t be using the guns, unless you’re eager.”

Charles sent an inquiring look toward James. “We’re here to be blunt, but that can wait. You’re in no harm from us. I’ll be needing another cup.”

His father’s brows bobbed with affirmative, and he reached behind him to a jar on the shelf. After shoveling more tealeaves into the pot, he unhooked the kettle over the fire to refill it.

Charles was more nonplussed than ever when James and Mr. Bennet held flintlock shotguns under their arms as they ventured out into the dewy morning. The latter led them through a field to the edge of the forest, where a worn path was smooth underfoot. “I apologize for ignorance, but could you explain what I’ve been invited to, if not hunting?”

Mr. Bennet responded, “My wife is hunting. And she’s set out her hounds.”

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s taking the two of us this time,” he marveled toward his son, who smirked at the ground.

Charles ruminated on that. “Am I to understand that I am the waterfowl in this scenario?”

Mr. Bennet turned impressed eyes upon him, and then at his son said, “He might almost be as smart as he is pretty.”

“Be nice,” James scolded.

Mr. Bennet looked disappointed, but only briefly as he set his firearm against a tree. The others followed suit, and they walked on in conversation. “You needn’t apologize for ignorance, Mr. Bingley, for we have ambushed you. Do you have feelings for my Jane?”

“Papa!” James burst. His father peered at him. “Maybe a tactful approach?”

Mr. Bennet appeared as if this had truly never crossed his mind. “I appreciated the direct question when your uncle approached me. Well, he asked me, ‘When the bloody hell are you marrying her? Because she won’t shut up about you,’ but I valued it nonetheless.”

James could not help but laugh, and an easy smile lifted Charles’ features. Mr. Bennet focused on the latter once more. “I’m not saying the engagement has to be this afternoon, or next month. But do everyone involved a mercy, and decide whether your attachment towards Jane can grow into a lifelong journey. You’re not subtle, and my wife is as subtle as the firearms we left behind. We know you like Jane, and she certainly fancies you. So for the sake of quieting my wife, will you court Jane, or not?”

* * * * * * *

“He what?”

James reared back from his mother’s voice. “He went home,” he repeated, this time lifting his hands to shield his ears.

“What do you mean he went home?”

He gave her a wary look. “I mean, he was invited for a hunt, the hunt is finished, so he went back to Netherfield. Like a rational person.”

“You were supposed to bring him back here! It was a ploy to have him with us all day!”

“I thought the point of being rich was that you had the money to choose your leisure time.”

Before his mother turned the colour of wine, Jane stepped between them. “Mama, it’s all right. Rising at dawn and moving through the brambles may tire anyone.”

“Brambles,” their mother scoffed. “For going into the fields and woods, this is the cleanest Jamie’s ever been. Bingley is surely sparkling.”

Jane peeked at him, at a loss. He shrugged. “He’s a figure in hunting trousers and riding boots.”

“Which,” Mrs. Bennet fumed, “she would have witnessed today and for days to come, if you had used your sense!”

She stormed off, at least to the next room, where they heard, “Ah! Mary! My last hope for intelligence in this family!”

Jane heaved a sigh and met an unapologetic expression on her brother. “I’m sure some part of Charles is aware and glad you spared him from today.”

“Someone has to be on the poor fool’s side,” he murmured as they went up to their room so he could change his attire.

“I don’t suppose you at least arranged a future meeting, for mama’s sake?” Jane pulled the needles from her hair, letting it fall in a heap around her shoulders when she reclined among the pillows.

She waited for him to disentangle himself from his shirt. “I thought it might be a worthwhile experiment to let him make the next invitation.”

Jane sighed, “That’s a no, then. There’s no saving you from mama.”

After digging inside their dresser, he found a long forgotten jumper dyed a weak crimson, with large tortoise buttons. He donned a fresh shirt, soft from years of use, and then buttoned the holes but left the shirt’s collar up and rumpled. Jane’s eyes wandered over him. “That’s too large for you.”

“Yes,” he crooned, peering down at the hanging sleeves. “Someone expected me to grow as tall as Lydia.”

“You almost did.” She stood and went to fold his collar down. “I can alter the cuffs.”

James held a small fold at the end of the sleeve for his sister to sew, which tapered the sleeves down to his wrists so they did not slide over his hands. When she was returning her sewing tin to her vanity drawers, she remarked, “It has been an agreeable day, nonetheless. Even good company is made better with a bit of time in between visits.”

Her brother peered up from his sleeves and let his head hang back down with a shake and breathy laugh. Jane whirled around, “Lizzy, you must not do so. You must not suspect me.”

“You hide it well, only asking once and ‘for mama’s sake’ whether or not there is a Bingley sighting on the horizon.”

“I assure you that I have learnt to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man, without having a wish beyond it.”

“Have you kissed him?”

Jane’s mouth hung open…and her cheeks blossomed. James was smug, and then he was in that curious place between befuddlement and great amusement. “When?”

Her jaw snapped shut. “It doesn’t matter. A good kiss does not warrant a good marriage.”

“Oh, it was good, then? That’s a relief. We can’t do with terrible kissers coming into this family.”

“You’ve already kissed him!”

“It was the least I could do, to save you the trial, but I never knew you’ve been venturing on your own! As your roguish brother, I demand to know the details.”

Jane snorted softly. “You’re not a rogue.”

“The religious call my fancy sodomy, and I’m in love with the richest man to ever step foot in our tiny corner of England. Where did that bottle go?”

“We haven’t had lunch yet,” she chided, but made no move to stop his finding the wine tucked between their bed and the dresser, and pouring her a glass. She shook her head despite her smile as he chinked his cup to hers. “You are cruel. You will not let me smile at having a simple friend, and are provoking me at every moment. Why should you wish to persuade me that I feel more than I acknowledge?”

James swallowed quickly to avoid gargling on his laughter. “I am always partial to indifference if it grants me liberty to laugh. But alas, in this I cannot be your confidante. If one of us is doomed to be happy, it better well be you, and I won’t let you out of it, not after you’ve already invested months of heartache for the rich idiot.”

“He’s not insensible!”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“I never demanded this from your kiss with him.”

“It must have been at Netherfield. What better place to hide than a ball?”

“Lizzy!”

“No wonder he was so lively, and you so composed. That is your only give away in lying: you’re too calm. Well…two out of the five of us escaped mama’s propensity for combustion.”

Jane paused in her sip to peer at him. “You are never overcome like mama is.”

“No, I cave in entirely,” he scoffed, and consumed another gulp.

Jane was quiet for a moment, and then when she reached for the water pitcher to top off their glasses, she asked, “What do you think has taken Darcy away?”

“Maybe he’s gone away to shield us from the Bingley sisters.”

He snorted into his glass at Jane’s stern look. “Careful. You almost look like mama with that.”

“I hope to be half the mother she is.”

James smiled softly, and then flinched at he sound of sharp heels across the floor. He held his cup close as Mrs. Bennet arrived at their doorway. Her mouth opened and then her eyes narrowed. “Are you drinking wine? At this hour of the day?”

“No.”

“You are!”

“Absolutely not.” He drank faster.

She swept into the room, fists on her hips. “From a teacup, no less! For heaven’s sake, consume from an aerated vessel if you’re going to be ludicrous!”

The cup was timely empty when it fell from his hand, yanked as he was off the bed. “Wine in the middle of the day! I raised you far from the vine!”

“Why is Jane completely ignored?” he complained as he stumbled barefoot behind her toward the staircase. “Scold your favourite!”

“A true mother doesn’t have favourites, only fools—”

James tripped to a halt on Mrs. Bennet’s skirts, catching himself before they both tumbled down the last of the steps. The pair of them stared at Hill beside the front door with Charles.

A beat of silence, and then, “Mr. Bingley!”

James lurched forward, the front of his jumper in his mother’s grip pulling him into a bow the same moment she curtsied. In an instant, James knew Bingley was nervous, but nothing else. His hands fidgeted at his sides while he smiled and said, “Jamie, you look so comfortable dressed down. I don’t mean that as an insult. I am envious.”

Mrs. Bennet did not release his jumper as James realized he was humbly barefoot, whereas Charles still wore his hunting trousers, coat, and riding boots. “We’re not particular here, if you want to come in further than the door.”

“On the contrary…” He stopped, frowned at the floor, and then started again, “I was wondering if I might have the privilege of inviting you all to dinner this evening.”

Another silence and then Mrs. Bennet uttered, “Why, of course! We would be delighted!”

Charles forced a flash of a smile. “It’s not too short notice?”

James reassured, “Nothing is ever short enough notice in this house.”

Even his undershirt twisted in his mother’s grip as she pulled him against her shoulder in warning. “He means that he is looking forward to it. What time would be convenient for you?”

It was settled that six would be their expected time and dinner would be an hour accordingly. This gave Mrs. Bennet an entire afternoon to rush James across the house and garden.

* * * * * * *

The foil to his wife’s enthrallment, Mr. Bennet seemed puzzled over the whole affair. Nevertheless, he gathered his children’s finest outer garments for the hot press, and alongside the curling rod, the Bennets readied for Netherfield. James was curling large bunches of Jane’s hair and pinning the loose waves in place while their mother scrutinized his collection from the garden.

“I thought I told you to gather the pink blossoms?”

“They wilt within an hour. The green is fine enough.”

“Fine enough isn’t fine or enough at all!”

“Mama, I’m perfectly comfortable in green,” Jane soothed.

“Oh but Jane, you do look so pretty in pastels.”

“And if I get so chilled that I must borrow Lizzy’s jacket, I will still match.”

She had Mrs. Bennet stumped. “Well, I suppose…”

The siblings deflated with relief when she left to fuss over Mary and Kitty despite being nowhere near ready herself. James exhaled, “I wonder if our aunt is somehow smug by all the occasions we’ve had to wear her gifts to us.”

“Mama seeks to make me look like a spring cake, dressed in that light green with pink decoration,” Jane giggled.

“What will you wear?” he asked softly, but his tone made his sister frown at him in the vanity mirror.

“What’s the matter?”

James did not readily answer. “I’m just tired. I wasn’t allowed to sleep today.”

She caught his hand over her shoulder. “You don’t need to come if…I’m sure Charles will understand.”

After a moment, he tried to smile, but it did not reach his eyes. His tone was more convincing as he chimed, “After he saw mama dragging me down the stairs and possibly stealing from his own shrubs? No, I won’t let one of my episodes detain me.”

Jane’s eyes widened at the heap of flora on the table. “These are from—?”

“Oh, he won’t mind.”

“You can’t steal from our host right before we are to dine with him!”

“But afterward? Hm, noted.”

“Lizzy!”

In the end, Jane dressed in wool stockings and linen petticoats for warmth, but a gown of airy, white layers that glowed in the light like chiffon. Kitty’s face paled and then filled with pink when she came into the room for James to do her hair. “You’re…you’re wearing that one?”

Jane smiled. “Yes, why not?”

Kitty smiled shyly. “It’s…I didn’t really know what I was doing… It might not be seen as proper or decent.”

Her sister peered at herself in the mirror with a perplexed expression. “I’m perfectly covered…?”

James’ head popped into view. “She means you look too pretty. Weak men don’t like that sort of thing.”

Jane absorbed that and eventually blushed over her smile. Her brother came around her, finishing putting the small fern pieces into place. He gave her a once over. “I mean, really, if he can’t bloody function with a nymph in the room, then he’s not worth it anyway.”

“Lizzy!”

* * * * * * *

James fluffed his cravat one more time as they ascended the stairs, only to immediately fantasize about removing his outer garments. The house was alight; the foyer chandelier full of dancing candles, every social room made warm by a crackling fire. The Bennets were collectively filled with rouge at Netherfield’s warmth.

Charles Bingley swept in as if from thin air to meet them, his hair glistening in an elegant arch combed back from his face. “I must apologize, I hadn’t anticipated such a warm evening.”

“Nothing to forgive, Mr. Bingley!” Mrs. Bennet gestured with her fan. “The temperature will surely fall over the course of the evening, and I don’t mind being spoiled by such display! Netherfield was certainly built to impress.”

James smiled to himself as Charles graciously let commentary of the house fall away and instead shook his and Mr. Bennet’s hands before arriving to Jane. He had the tact of extending his words to her sisters, but his primary focus was on her. “I am sorry for my negligence. I would have very much liked to share your time, but after the morning, the day was quite taken from me.”

Jane smiled. “You’re perfectly in the right to spend your hours how you see fit, especially to any obligations promised before us. Thank you for remembering us.”

His brows twitched into a furrow. “I will always remember you.”

Mr. Bennet chirped, “So, dinner.”

Charles stood to attention. “Yes, of course.”

Dinner progressed with Mrs. Bennet sending glares at anyone who interrupted even the slightest gaze or word between the two of them. However overall, the meal was pleasant in taste and conversation. Mr. Bennet was even prevailed upon to laugh more than once.

“How marvelous that someone should dislike London as much as myself.”

“I assure you, it is a bittersweet entanglement,” Charles said after wiping his mouth. “Industry and trade are surely growing at a staggering rate, and as thrilling as it is to be apart of it all, it only inspires a greater appreciation for the countryside.”

“They each have their flaws and redeeming points,” he acquiesced.

“But for a home,” his wife intercepted, “the country does far outweigh the city, don’t you find?”

James shifted in his seat, readying, should the need arise, to divert Mrs. Bennet’s attentions in the conversation. However Mary spoke next. “I wonder if a study has been conducted, discussing the differences in life and wellbeing between urban and rural.”

Bingley’s features opened. “Oh, absolutely. It is a growing field, the study of ourselves, and in several branches. Social, mental, cultural…the humanities have grown alongside our maps.”

Mary’s eyes illuminated in a way that made her elder siblings exchange smirks. Charles went on to say, “I can put in an order for you, if you like. It’s no trouble for published journals to be sent here; half the men they get sent to read them but once and then the paper is as good as tinder, any how.”

Their dessert bowls were being taken from the table while Mary swallowed, too overcome for words. Jane supplied, “That would be most welcome, Mr. Bingley. I’m afraid we cannot keep up with Mary’s mind, so anything you are able to send our way would be most gratefully received.”

He shook his head. “I’m happy to do it.”

Mrs. Bennet sent her glare around the table, daring anyone to interrupt their shared smiles, until quietude encompassed the room. James was induced to chime, “Are we awaiting a second dessert?”

Charles looked at him and shook himself as if emerging from a dream. “Whoever wishes is welcome to remain for coffee, which reminds me, Jamie, that I have something for you.” Standing from the table, he announced, “There is no rush. A carriage will be brought ‘round for whomever wants it. I’ll return momentarily.”

He went to speak with one of the footmen first, and while he was in the room, Mrs. Bennet was just so pleased that she sent a wink to the first one to meet her eyes, which happened to be Kitty. She squinted, “What is the matter, mama? What do you keep winking at me for?”

“Nothing, child, nothing,” she hastened. “I did not wink at you.”

She beat her fan in the air like the gentlest butterfly wings, sending a smile Bingley’s way before he left the room and she announced, “We are each of us leaving, apart from you, Jane, and perhaps Kitty.”

Her youngest pair erupted at once. “Why me?” Kitty exclaimed.

“I am quite the better partner for conversation,” Mary agreed. “There is so much I’d like to ask him!”

“That is precisely why you mustn’t remain, dear,” their mother apologized. “A man and woman have so few occasions to speak openly together, that nothing else must get in the way now. But of course someone must remain for decency’s sake—”

“Oh to hell with decency,” Mary sighed, slouching back in her seat.

James could not help but smile to himself, nodding pleasantly. Mr. Bennet had already stood and was waiting beside one of the windows, observing the night until Jane murmured, “I want Lizzy to stay.”

All heads turned to her. Mrs. Bennet’s voice softened but was adamant, “Darling, I understand, but Lizzy is equally too disposed to sweep Charles’ attention—”

“Lizzy will stay,” her husband declared. “I’ll trust no other with my daughter.”

Mrs. Bennet huffed a loud sound of mirth. “She is in no danger from Bingley!”

James watched his sister. She was unable to pretend now. Her head was slowly falling until it lifted with conviction. “I want my brother to stay.”

Her eyes flicked to him, and he could only fill his eyes with what he felt. It was not often that she stood up to their mother, and he was always immeasurably proud when she did so. Jane inhaled as if she had been without air for a long while.

Mrs. Bennet’s scheme was ineffectual. Bingley returned with a parcel in his hands, but first guided the family to the foyer and stood attentively on the steps until the carriage was rolling along the drive. He turned back to Jane and her brother with a grin. “Ah, my favourite Bennets—I hope you don’t mind my saying.”

Jane bowed her head modestly while James barked a laugh. As they made their way to one of the parlours, he teased, “With you waving that around, how can I leave?”

Charles realized he still held the parcel. “Oh! Fine fine, although I cannot take credit for it.”

James paused in reaching for it. “What do you mean?”

Charles stared at him. “It’s from William, of course.”

James did not so much take the brown-wrapped parcel as he felt it enter his hands. He began pulling the green ribbon off of it while he heard Charles lead Jane to the table beside the fireplace. “I do not recall, did you ever share coffee with us here?”

James barely heard his sister’s reply as he unwrapped a sack and looked inside to find ovular nuggets…smelling and appearing not quite as he remembered. Pinching one between his fingers, he held it up and it hit him all at once: chocolate. Coffee beans coated in chocolate.

I wish I had the chocolate my father brought home long ago to pair with it.

The flavour was on his tongue, his hand over his mouth as he was overcome. The sharp burst of caffeine that filled his senses when he bit into it. The gently sweet bitterness.

“Lizzy?”

He looked up into his sister’s face. Behind her, Charles wore a worried expression. Removing his hand, he uttered, “I’m so sorry, but can I trouble you for the supplies to write a letter?”

This took the both of them by surprise, but Charles nodded and opened his arm to guide him to a nearby drawing room. “It’s all here. Use the room as long as you need. Are you quite all right?”

“Yes—but are you certain in the time you said Darcy would return?”

Something behind those blue eyes changed. “I’m certain. He was most unwilling to go and already eager to return.”

“All right, thank you,” James dismissed, plopping down and sharpening the nearest quill. Charles wavered for a moment, moving a candelabrum to the table for extra light, and should James decide he wanted for anything else, before he left the room.

James did what any self-respecting person would do: he wrote every thought in his head to his dearest friend. Struggling to remember the last letter Charlotte had written, he quickly replied with what few statements he could as to her goings-on, and then moved on to his current placement, and how he had arrived there. He started at the Meryton ball. More than once did he laugh at himself, for he was sure Charlotte would be while reading.

Two quills, several pieces of paper, and blotting dust later, James stood and exited the room to…pause…outside of the parlour.

It was quiet, but as he drew closer to the cracked doors, he heard the soft murmurings of earnest conversation. Peering inside, barely pushing for a better view, he perceived his sister and Charles standing together over the hearth.

“Do you desire an envelope and shipment?” said a hushed voice. James startled at the butler, who last he had seen, still despised him for soiling the various carpets after the rainstorm which had first brought him here in Jane’s wake.

“Um, no, thank you,” he whispered, as he was sure he was not finished with it.

He startled anew when a maid reached between them to open the doors—both he and the butler stopped her. She stared between them, dumbfounded until James hissed, “Don’t you have a weather eye for people falling in love? Go away!”

Her jaw dropped as she tilted to see inside, but she obediently left. James and the butler remained standing guard. The former wondered how long it had taken the pair to reach the point in conversation they were in now. He could not hear them well, but Charles’s face contorted and he took Jane’s hands in his, kissing their backs and holding them to his chest. Jane’s cheeks shined with tears.

Her hands moved around his face, and she kissed him, nodding against his lips.

James’ heart lifted into his throat, distantly feeling the butler’s hand on his shoulder. He sniffed, no longer seeing them clearly through his tear-stained eyes.

Jane was engaged.

His tears fell past his cheeks, granting him sight as he pushed open the door to lean his shoulder against the jamb. Jane was holding Charles close, their foreheads together until her chin turned in his direction. Charles was less graceful, nearly jumping out of his skin. A long instant of blabbering followed before he was coherent. “James! I! Er—that is to say—”

Jane cut him off by flying across the room to be enclosed in her brother’s arms. His face buried against her neck. “It’s not fair,” he sobbed. “And you deserve it all.”

She was giggling and crying, and only parted from him once the butler emerged into the room. “Sir? Might I endeavour to provide this?”

Charles scrubbed a hand over his face, and accepted the…jar of lentils. James and Jane stared at his nervous laughter. “I fought Caroline tooth and nail for this, and only managed victory once I stole and hid it.”

James sniffled loudly. “I never knew lentils were so hard to come by—”

Charles extracted a box buried beneath the jar’s contents. Jane’s hands flew to her mouth while James lost his balance, swaying a few paces away from them until he grasped the back of a chair.

Charles lowered onto one knee. James landed rather loudly in the chair, his elbows on his knees and holding his mouth. Charles sent him a giddy smile and then blinked up at Jane.

“Miss Bennet. Ever patient, Jane. Will you forgive me for taking this long?”

She was already nodding, still crying and laughing as he removed the box’s lid to reveal a gold ring with an octagonal diamond the size of her little finger’s nail.

“Will you do me the lifelong honour of being my wife? Will you be lady of Netherfield? You are what makes these walls special to me. I can’t live here without you… Will you say yes before I accidentally burn the place down with all these candles?”

Bennets and butler laughed. Jane flexed her hand for him to slide the ring onto her finger, and then lowered to be caught in his arms. James and the butler—and the entire staff lingering in the corridor—clapped their hands while she kissed him, her feet dangling above the floor.

When he finally set her down, he continued to hold her against him, her hand splayed over his cheek. “I want to stay,” James heard her say, “but I must go to my mother…she would never forgive me to hear the news from somebody else. Oh, but papa—”

She gasped, finally piecing something together as she looked between her fiancé and brother. “You’ve already been to see him.”

Charles smiled and nodded. “I was rather cornered but they saved me the trouble.”

Her eyes widened on her brother, who managed a smile through his silent tears.