Midnight in Austenland (Austenland 2)

“I’ll always be your father. I’ll never leave you,” he said as he packed up some boxes and left.

Austenland, day 14

It was dawn. Eddie and Charlotte walked slowly up the stairs, the pale light from the windows pushing down on them like gravity. Her body felt like a sack of straw, but her mind buzzed, and her hand tingled where Eddie held it. They passed Colonel Andrews and Miss Charming heading for bed, and Eddie still held on.

At Charlotte’s door, they stopped, too tired to do anything else and too sorry to let go.

“I have two weeks off before the next session,” he said, his voice hoarse with morning.

“I’d like to stay,” she said. Could she stay two more weeks? Would her kids be okay? She hoped so. But what then? It didn’t matter. She was in love, and her heart felt brand-new.

She went into her room before her practical mind could wake up worrying.

She didn’t bother wrestling out of her ball gown. It turned out it was possible to sleep in a corset, though perhaps not advisable. She shut her eyes against the growing light and dreamed instantly of a truck carrying crates of cabbages.

Her Inner Thoughts grumbled. Come on! There’s nothing the least bit romantic about cabbages. After a night like that, at least you could shoot me something hot and steamy.

Charlotte, asleep, shrugged. Couldn’t be helped. Dreams chose themselves, and that morning, it was cabbages. In a truck.

She woke feeling shy. And sore. Really, it’s worth the time to remove the corset. The sun was high—she’d slept past breakfast. She was hungry but embarrassed too. Today was The End, and she wasn’t sure how she was going to wrangle a permanent happily-ever-after into it. She definitely wasn’t sure two more weeks could form something strong enough to withstand the Atlantic Ocean when it rushed between them. And after they put Austenland behind, would it become weird between her and Eddie? Would he realize that she was normal, would he make excuses and send her home?

He’s worth the risk, she told herself. Don’t go back to being numb.

After bathing, Charlotte put on the corset one last time—feeling sentimental about the constricting, torturelike undergarment—dressed, and went out.

“Good morning, Charlotte,” Miss Gardenside said. “You missed breakfast.”

“I was up late,” said Charlotte.

Miss Gardenside/Alisha gave a low, throaty chuckle.

“Thanks for giving me Mr. Grey,” said Charlotte. “He was meant for you.”

“Gross! He’s old enough to be my dad.”

He probably wasn’t, but Charlotte smiled anyway.

“Could I ask a favor?” she asked. “This is probably going too far, but … do you think you could write a note to my daughter and tell her you think I’m cool? Or something? She worships you, and she thinks I’m … well, I’m Mom.”

“For my dearest, sweetest bosom friend? Absolutely.”

“That’s … that’s amazing. Thanks. And if you don’t mind, I’m going to write a note to your mother, telling her how wonderful I think you are.”

Alisha’s smile was sad. “Actually, I don’t mind at all.”

Charlotte planned to write it longhand on fine paper. Perhaps she’d even use a quill pen.

Alisha gave Charl

otte a hug and two cheek kisses and left to pack. Charlotte wandered by Miss Charming’s open door.

“Are you staying on?” she asked.

Miss Charming was sitting on the floor, painting her toenails a bright coral. “Yeah, why not? This session didn’t feel really real, with the murders and guns and everything. I don’t want to end with CSI: Pembrook Park. Besides, Colonel Andrews will still be here for another two months, and I should keep him company.”

Charlotte sat on her bed. “Are you two really an item?”

“Naw, the colonel doesn’t swing for me. We love each other in our own ways. That’s probably all I need.”