Adventures with Jane and her Legacy 01 Jane Austen Ruined My Life (20 page)

"No," I said. "Not again."

"Are you okay in there?" a voice said from the other side of the stall door, and I realized I'd spoken loud enough to be heard.
Great
.

"Um, yeah, I'm fine. Be out in a jiff."

A jiff? Who said
jiff
anymore? My mother, I realized with dismay. Apparently in times of stress, I turned into a fifty-something pastor's wife.

I reached for my purse, and then I paused. The second envelope. It was still in there, waiting to be read after the play. But I couldn't wait any longer.

My hands shook so badly, I could hardly open the envelope, but I managed. Slowly, carefully, I slid the paper out--a photocopy, thank goodness--and unfolded it.

Then, written upside down between the lines at the top of the page, were these words:

"Not very warm and fuzzy," I said, again aloud.

"Are you certain you're all right?" The woman's voice from the other side of the door, which had sounded concerned before, now rang with impatience.

"Fine. Yes, fine. Sorry."

I refolded the letter and put it back in my purse. So she
had loved Jack Smith, spurned his offer of marriage, and then changed her mind. She must have gone to London sometime during that summer of 1801 and either run into him there or received a letter from him. This piece of paper, or the original at least, would be enough on its own to restore my career.

"People are waiting." Clearly the woman outside the stall was almost at the end of her rope.
You aren't the only one
, I wanted to say aloud, but this time I kept my thoughts to myself.

I emerged from the stall, ignored the glares from the long line of women waiting their turn, and with a quick glance in the mirror to assure myself that I still looked like Cinderella at the ball, I hurried from the restroom.

I found Adam standing alone near the bar on the orchestra level.

"Where's Barry?"

"He had an emergency. Had to leave." Adam looked as if butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. I was immediately suspicious.

"What kind of emergency?"

Adam shook his head. "No idea. He said something about Sophie and public transportation and then he left."

I chewed my lower lip for a second. Was Adam telling the truth? There were just enough details to be convincing, but not enough to convict him as a liar.

Before I could say anything, Adam took my hand and pulled me into a niche beside the bar. The little alcove was partially concealed by long red velvet drapes.

"We need to talk," he said. Ominous words under the best of circumstances, and Adam's frown spoke volumes. But he was right.

"What did you want to discuss?" I said, determined not to let him see how agitated I was.

"Emma, I need to know what's going on. Whatever you're doing, it's not academic research." What I was doing? I pursed my lips.

"Yes, it is research." My tone bristled, along with the rest of me. "I'm here for professional reasons."

"I've never seen anyone do research like this before. Where did you go in Bath?"

I looked away and examined the flocking on the wallpaper just past Adam's shoulder. He knew enough to be suspicious but not enough to convict me. "I had something I needed to do."

"Something secret?"

I looked him in the eye. "Why would I be doing something in secret?"

"Edward called."

I felt my eyes grow wide.

"When?"

"While we were in Bath. I picked up the message on the machine after you left this morning."

"What did he want?" Act casual. Don't flinch.

"He wants you to call him."

"What else did he say?"

Adam reached out and placed a hand on my arm. "Emma--"

"What did he say?"

"He wants you to give him a call."

I shook my head. "No."

He took a step toward me. The alcove wasn't that big to begin with, and now I was as close to him as I'd been in our seats. Only this time it was face-to-face, instead of shoulder to shoulder.

"Don't," I said, but he moved closer anyway. So close I could sense the rise and fall of his chest without looking at it.

"Em--"

"Why?" The question crawled out of my throat, scratchy and uncomfortable and totally beyond my control. "Why?" I echoed, though I knew I wasn't exactly making sense.

I didn't even care about Mrs. Parrot anymore, not when the idea of Edward's phone call felt like a knife twisting through me. Suddenly the pain was as fresh as it had been on the day I'd discovered him cheating on me. "Why did he have to do it, Adam?"

"He's an idiot, Em. He always has been."

"I'm so desirable that idiots cheat on me?"

Adam chuckled but not in an unkind way. And then his hands were on my shoulders, and then one was cradling my chin and lifting it so I had to look him in the eye.

"Edward's a lot of things. Idiot's one of his better qualities. But whatever he is, Em, it's no reflection on you."

I swallowed a sob. "Of course it's a reflection on me. I was stupid enough to marry him. To believe his shtick."

Adam shook his head, and his hand fell away from my chin. I felt the loss keenly until he reached around and cupped his palm across the back of my head. Holding me in place, as it turned out, so that he could kiss me.

Some people, some people like Jane Austen, might say that it was in bad taste to kiss a man in a public theater, even in an alcove, but I would beg to differ. What I did know was that despite everything that had happened, everything I'd been through, no matter how shattered my heart had been after Edward's betrayal or how suspicious I was of Adam having a connection to Mrs. Parrot, I wasn't done with men. Or, for that matter, love.

And from the way he was kissing me, I would have to guess that Adam had a rather keen interest in it himself.

A
dam was still kissing me when I heard the bells. Not wedding bells. More like chimes. The ones that announced the end of the intermission, summoning Adam and me from the alcove. I stepped back and turned away from him. My cheeks were far pinker than my dress, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Adam was smiling as we emerged from our hiding place. I had no idea what to say to him, so I didn't say anything.

He escorted me back to our seats. Barry was gone, but the Chanel shopping bag was still there, filled with my casual clothes from earlier in the day. We had just slid into our seats when the lights dimmed.

Later, after the obligatory standing ovation and the stream of people pouring out into the London night, I still had no idea whether to bring up the subject of that clandestine kiss or just keep my mouth shut. Adam remained the same as ever,
making conversation but never acknowledging what had happened between us.

I didn't exactly want to bring it up on the tube ride home. The conversation didn't need an audience. By the time we reached Hampstead, I was so exhausted, I could barely stumble up the passage to Holly Mount. Adam took the shopping bag from me with one hand and my elbow with the other, and I was thankful for his support. The night air was warm and soft, and in Hampstead, it was mostly free from the diesel fumes so prevalent in the city.

"Almost there," Adam said encouragingly as we approached Anne-Elise's town house, but then he stopped in his tracks. And so did I.

"Did you mean to leave the lights on?" I asked him. The place was lit up like a Christmas tree.

Adam stopped, frowned, and set the Chanel bag on the ground. "I didn't leave any lights on," he said.

"There's music too," I said, exhaustion giving way to concern.

We approached the front door. Adam turned the handle. It wasn't locked.

"I'll go in first," he said. I didn't waste energy arguing with him but just followed him over the threshold.

We moved down the hall to the kitchen. The music-- eighties pop--emanated from there and told me what I needed to know even before we laid eyes on the unexpected visitor. Well, not a visitor exactly, since it was Anne-Elise's house, after all.

"Emma! Adam!" Her straight blond hair flew around her head as she danced around the kitchen, a tea towel tucked into the waistband of her low-rise jeans. Anne-Elise was tall, thin, and achingly beautiful. The fact that we shared any part of a gene pool had always seemed miraculous, or at least statistically improbable.

"Anne-Elise! What are you doing here?" I ran forward to give her a hug. Adam followed at a slower pace.

"I decided the two of you needed a chaperone," she said with a bright, albeit forced, smile. "So I came back from Paris early."

I caught her wrist to stop her in midtwirl and turned her to face me. "Nice try,
cherie
, but I'm not buying it. What's wrong?"

Anne-Elise stopped dancing, and in an instant, she went from bottled sunshine to Gaelic tragedy. "Etienne. I found him with another woman."

I bit my tongue to keep from offering my opinion, which was that Anne-Elise was much better off without that creepy excuse for a Frenchman. I'd met him the previous summer, at another cousin's wedding, when he'd pinched my backside repeatedly.

"When did you get back?" I asked instead.

She glanced at her watch, an expensive diamond-encrusted bauble. Probably a guilt offering from the offending Etienne. "An hour ago? Maybe two?"

Anne-Elise might have spoken with an American accent. She might even have looked like a classic California blonde. But at heart, she was her mother's daughter, and she had the charm and savoir faire of any Frenchwoman worth her
sel
.

"I have come home to seek the solace of family," she said, relishing the drama. "And of friends too," she added with an apologetic smile to Adam.

"You're better off without him," I said, not biting my tongue for long. I certainly could speak from experience.

"You're right." Anne-Elise reached for the teakettle. "I've already had three cups of tea, so I won't sleep tonight. Want to help me make it four?"

I nodded. "Sure."

What else could I say? My cousin was in need. Also, Anne-Elise's arrival meant I could avoid a potentially very awkward conversation with Adam, at least until the next day. And I had decided on the tube ride home, that I had to act as if the kiss had been nothing. Chalk it up to the heat of the moment or temporary insanity or Londonitis. Because aside from the shabby state of my own emotions, I didn't know if I could still trust him. He was in league with Mrs. Parrot somehow and hiding every bit as much as I was.

"I'm going to turn in," Adam said. He shot me a look that told me he knew exactly what I was doing, avoiding him. "I'll leave you two to your girl talk," he added, but he was looking at me when he said it. "See you in the morning."

So I wasn't going to be able to avoid the conversation forever. But at least for now, I had a reprieve.

"Do you want Earl Grey or Breakfast Blend?" Anne-Elise asked as I watched Adam disappear through the doorway.