Midnight in Austenland (Austenland 2)

“Are all men despicable scoundrels?”

“I don’t really believe it. Because you’re not. Though there was a moment I thought you were the murderer and were going to kill me.”

“Really?” His eyes seemed happy. “That’s kind of you. I like the idea of seeming dangerous. But …” He lifted his hands as if to say, I am who I am.

“No, you’re not dangerous. You feel safe. And that’s nicer.” She smiled at him. “I like you, Eddie. I like you lots.”

Charlotte had to stop talking, because Eddie was looking at her. And he was quite a bit nearer than was normal for an acquaintance or a brother or anything. His face was in her personal space, but it didn’t feel invasive. He was gazing at her curiously. He lifted his hand to touch her jaw with his thumb, as if he just wanted to feel her. Her head lightened with that touch. She felt as sharp as a star. She held still and hoped he was touching her because he, Eddie, the real Eddie, wanted to. Because that was what she wanted.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Attempting to woo you.” He kept glancing at her lips. “Is it working at all? It’s been a long time since I sincerely wooed anyone, and I can’t remember how. All I know is I want to look at you.”

She was afraid to move, afraid even the slight nod of her head would move his hand and he would give up and go away. She couldn’t seem to form words, so she hoped he could see the yes in her eyes.

Say yes, she screamed at her eyes. Sparkle or something! Come on, babies, twinkle for Mama!

And he kissed her. His arms went around her and he was kissing her really well. And her only clear thought was that Eddie was wonderfully tall. James had been just her height, and for the sake of his vanity, she could never wear heels.

Eddie withdrew enough to look at her face. “That seemed to work?”

Charlotte didn’t answer. She hadn’t caught her breath, or her equilibrium. The kiss had shifted the whole world forty-five degrees, and she was still falling. Except that his arms were around her, so maybe they were falling together.

“Um …” she said, and touched his lips with her fingertips. It was all the language she could muster at the moment, like Caveman for “Kiss me again, please.”

And he did. He kissed her and she kissed him, and he held her so tight she felt safe from the whole world. It was wonderful to feel really safe again, and glorious to be kissed. The world kept tipping, and maybe she was upside down now, blood rushing to her head, feet in the stars.

With warm cheeks and starry feet, she realized that she’d been yearning to be this close to Eddie all along but had resisted for some reason. Why had she? Oh yeah, because he was—

“Wait!” she said.

He stopped, alarm in his eyes.

“It needs to be said that we’re not really brother and sister.”

He nodded sagely. “Yes, it does. It needs to be said.”

“Because I want to kiss you, not that character. I don’t have any incest fantasies, thank you, and I don’t want to be involved in anyone else’s. So … you’re not really my brother; I’m not really your sister. We’re not related in any way.”

He was holding her hands, rubbing her fingers against his chin. “Not a whit.”

“And my name’s not ‘Charlotte Cordial’ when I’m kissing you. I’m still ‘Charlotte,’ just not the ‘Cordial’ part.”

“Understood. And the name’s not ‘Grey,’ nor ‘Edmund’ either. It’s ‘Reginald.’ ”

“What!” Charlotte recoiled. “Don’t be serious. ‘Reginald’? Really?”

Reginald shrugged. “Family name.”

“Family curse.”

“But ‘Eddie’ will do. I rather fancy being ‘Eddie,’ when you say it.” Eddie smiled. He kissed her fingers. “Tell me something else. Something true.”

“I’m a mom of two kids, and my ex-husband found me less interesting than a woman named ‘Justice’ who keeps reading one book over and over again called A Fragment of My Heart, and it’s about a man who is in love with his neighbor for sixty years and does nothing about it and she doesn’t find out until he dies and she discovers his journal, and Justice sent me a copy and harassed me via e-mail until I read it, and you’re supposed to weep at the end but I laughed, and I judge her for that.”

“Tell me something true about you.”

“Okay …” She mentally rifled through birthplace (Portland, Oregon), college major (sociology), astrological sign (Virgo), favorite movie (The Apple Dumpling Gang—don’t judge), until she hit a fact that wasn’t completely mundane. “One of my favorite things in the world are those charity events where everyone buys a rubber ducky with a number and the first person’s duck to get down the river wins.”