“You don’t know me! You know Miss Erstwhile, but—”
“Come now, ever since I witnessed your abominable performance in the theatrical, it’s been clear that you can’t act to save your life. All three weeks, that was you.” He smiled. “And I wanted to keep knowing you. Well, I didn’t at first. I wanted you to go away and leave me in peace. I’ve made a career out of avoiding any possibility of a real relationship. And then to find you in that circus . . . it didn’t make sense. But what ever does?”
“Nothing,” said Jane with conviction. “Nothing makes sense.”
“Could you tell me . . . am I being too forward to ask? . . . of course, I just bought a plane ticket on impulse, so worrying about being forward at this point is pointless . . . This is so insane, I am not a romantic. Ahem. My question is, what do you want?”
“What do I . . . ?” This really was insane. Maybe she should ask that old woman to change seats again.
“I mean it. Besides something real. You already told me that. I like to think I’m real, after all. So, what do you really want?”
She shrugged and said simply, “I want to be happy. I used to want Mr. Darcy, laugh at me if you want, or the idea of him. Someone who made me feel all the time like I felt when I watched those movies.” It was hard for her to admit it, but when she had, it felt like licking the last of the icing from the bowl. That hopeless fantasy was empty now.
“Right. Well, do you think it possible—” He hesitated, his fingers played with the radio and light buttons on the arm of his seat. “Do you think someone like me could be what you want?”
Jane smiled sadl
y. “I’m feeling all shiny and brand new. In all my life, I’ve never felt like I do now. I’m not sure yet what I want. When I was Miss Erstwhile, you were perfect, but that was back in Austenland. Or are we still in Austenland? Maybe I’ll never leave.”
He nodded. “You don’t have to decide anything now. If you will allow me to be near you for a time, then we can see.” He rested his head back, and they looked at each other, their faces inches apart. He always was so good at looking at her. And it occurred to her just then that she herself was more Darcy than Erstwhile, sitting there admiring his fine eyes, feeling dangerously close to falling in love against her will.
“Just be near . . .” she repeated.
He nodded. “And if I don’t make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world every day of your life, then I don’t deserve to be near you.”
Jane breathed in, taking those words inside her. She thought she might like to keep them for a while. She considered never giving them up.
“Okay, I lied a little bit.” He rubbed his head with even more force. “I need to admit up front that I don’t know how to have a fling. I’m not good at playing around and then saying good-bye. I’m throwing myself at your feet because I’m hoping for a shot at forever. You don’t have to say anything now, no promises required. I just thought you should know.”
He forced himself to lean back again, his face turned slightly away, as if he didn’t care to see her expression just then. It was probably for the best. She was staring straight ahead with wide, panicked eyes, then a grin slowly took over her face. In her mind was running the conversation she was going to have with Molly. “I didn’t think it was possible, but I found a man as crazy intense as I was.”
The plane was moving, that scatty slow motion that seemed to go both forward and backward at once. Jane kept looking back and forth between the window and the man next to her, checking to see if he was really there. Was this a better ending than tallyho?
“So,” he said, “is New York City our final destination?”
“That’s home.”
“Good.There’s bound to be work for an attractive British actor, wouldn’t you think?”
“There are thousands of restaurants, and those waiter jobs have high turnover.”
“Right.”
“Loads of theaters, too. I think you’d be wonderful in a comedy.”
“Because I’m laughable.”
“It doesn’t hurt.” On impulse, she took his hand, rubbed his index finger between her fingers. It was an intimate gesture, yet felt natural. What did she want? This is so insane . . . Stop thinking that. Maybe it could work . . . Oh, be practical, Jane. So what was she to do? She was no longer prey to the fantastical idea of love, but if she could have something real . . . Was there anything real?
“You want to have kids someday, don’t you?” she asked, just to get that one out of the way.
“Did Mrs. Wattlesbrook tell you my story? I wouldn’t be surprised. Yes, I like children. I always thought I’d like to be called Papa.”
“Okay, that answer was too perfect. Are you honestly being you?”
“Wattlesbrook casts actors who are closest to the parts we play, since we had to stay in character so long. There are some exceptions, of course, like Andrews playing a heterosexual.”
“I knew it,” she said under her breath. “But wait, stop, it’s not supposed to end this way! You’re the fantasy, you’re what I’m leaving behind. I can’t pack you up and take you with me.”