When Jane Got Angry

He was regarding her blankly. Had she said something wrong? “If you do not want to—”

“Not at all,” he said hastily. “It would give me great pleasure. Nobody has ever accompanied me to the top of the dome. When I suggested it to Caroline, she laughed and assured me that her skirts would get far too dirty from climbing the dusty stairs.”

“I am willing to sacrifice far more than dusty skirts for such a magnificent view.”

He took one of her hands in both of his and kissed it fervently. “Miss Bennet, you are a marvel.”

The declaration quite dazzled Jane. Before she could quite recover, Mr. Bingley had released her hand and was backing away with a broad grin on his face. “Before we journey upstairs, I would like to demonstrate why this is called the whispering gallery.”

Jane could not help smiling back. “Indeed?”

“It is said to have some odd acoustical properties. If a person stands on one side of the gallery, apparently he can whisper to someone on the opposite side—and she can hear the words clear as day.”

Jane frowned dubiously as she surveyed the gallery. The circumference was vast, and the distance from one side to another was great. “Have you tested it?”

“I have never tried it myself. As there is nobody else about today, I believe it is an excellent time for a trial, if you would like.”

Although he continued to back away from her, his eyes had not left hers for a second. She swallowed, wondering why such a simple proposition seemed so…intimate.

“You will whisper something to me?” she asked with a smile.

When did I grow so bold? I never flirted before. Goodness! Leave me alone with a man for a few minutes, and I turn into Lydia!

“I will.” The humorous gleam had fled from his eyes; he regarded her steadily—and with some heat. “Remain here.”

Jane could not tear her eyes from Mr. Bingley as he strolled around the curved balcony. He had such a smooth, assured stride; she would happily watch him walk anywhere. He was a tiny figure on the other side of the gallery, but she heard his words quite clearly. “I love you, Jane.”

Oh! How unexpected. She was momentarily so dizzy that she feared she would pitch over the edge of the gallery and needed to grab the railing.

He spoke again in a normal tone of voice, yet she had no trouble understanding every word. “I love you. It is too soon for an offer of marriage, but I cannot imagine marrying anyone other than you.”

Momentarily robbed of her voice, Jane nodded vigorously. A declaration of love should properly be followed by a marriage proposal, but she understood that he was not yet prepared for a public declaration of his feelings—or riding to Longbourn for her father’s permission.

The small figure appeared to be watching her expectantly, even a little apprehensively. Jane swallowed, hoping her voice would function. “I-I love you, too, Mr. Bingley.”

Her words must have traveled over the vast space because a slow smile spread over his face. He glanced down momentarily and then up, meeting her eyes. “May I kiss you, Jane?”

When had it grown so hot in the gallery? “Yes,” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

And then he was running around the circle, hastily closing the distance between them. Jane edged back from railing so that she—and anything she did—would not be visible from the nave.

Mr. Bingley slowed as he approached her, merely reaching out to touch the edge of her sleeve near her elbow. “May I kiss you, in truth?” he whispered again in her ear, his breath tickling her neck.

“Yes,” she said softly.

His hand slid down her arm and into her palm until their fingers were intertwined. They had both removed their gloves, and the sensation of skin against skin was far more electric than Jane had expected.

Mr. Bingley shifted closer to her, and s

he closed her eyes in anticipation of the press of his lips against hers. Instead, his lips caressed the soft skin of her shoulder where it was exposed by the edge of her bodice. Her eyelids fluttered as she absorbed the exquisite sensations. She had never been kissed there—or indeed anywhere—by a man other than her father, and the experience was much more overwhelming than she had imagined.

The next kiss traveled closer to her neck, and the next one closer still. Jane held her breath in anticipation. The following kiss fell unexpectedly in the hollow of her throat, creating such unanticipated sensations that Jane shivered with delight.

She held herself very still as Mr. Bingley kissed a path up her throat. And then he paused. Jane nearly opened her eyes; had he retreated? She tried to swallow her disappointment. Perhaps he believed it would be improper to kiss a lady’s mouth if they were not betrothed. Still, her lips tingled with anticipation and eagerness. Would the sensation of his lips meeting hers feel just as exquisite? Or might it disappoint?

It did not disappoint.

When his lips met hers, she exhaled in soft relief; she had so longed to kiss him! His kiss began gently, with a mere brushing of his lips against hers, but it quickly increased in intensity as his mouth pressed more firmly, demanding that she respond in kind. She was helpless to do otherwise. The heady pleasure of the kiss wrapped her in its grip, requiring that she meet Mr. Bingley’s ardor with equal passion.