Attempting Elizabeth (21 page)

Kelsey Edmundson woke up in her own bed, in her own apartment in Anaheim, California. No time had passed. She brought Mark Barnes with her out of Pride and Prejudice. He woke up with her.

I finished it and reread what I had written before folding the pages neatly and tucking them into the pocket in my skirt. I sincerely hoped Mark never had an opportunity to read this.

“I am having a bit of a strange post-modern moment here.”

I donned my
pelisse and my bonnet. It seemed kind of silly to wear a bonnet out in the middle of the night, but I was hoping it would help keep my head warm. Doubtful as it was so light and frilly.

I considered taking a candle with me, but I felt bad pilfering even a single candle from Charlotte.

I let myself out of the front door, closing it as quietly as I could, and made my way down the front walk. It was dark, but some light was provided by the moon. It wasn’t until I had come here, so far away from the modern city that I was used to, that I’d noticed how much light the moon really gave off. I’d always thought it was funny in stories when people found their way anywhere by the light of the moon. But here, away from the miles and miles of modern electric lights I was used to, I’d discovered that the moon, especially when it was overhead and the sky was clear, could provide a shocking amount of light.

The amount of moonlight was a good thing because otherwise I likely would have turned my ankle on my way down the path. But because of the soft, silvery light, I was able to skirt the offending dips and ruts in the dirt path as it wound its way down the little hill and toward the main lane. I slowed as I reached the end of the walk, my eyes searching the semi-darkness for Mark. He’d said he’d be waiting for me, and when I didn’t see him right away I felt the strangest piercing sadness in my chest. I barely had time to even register the feeling, let alone examine it in any detail, when he stepped quietly out from the dark shadows beneath a tree on the side of the lane.

“Evening,” his low-pitched voice carried the few feet that separated us and caused a delicious shiver to shimmy up my spine.

"Mark.” I replied.

He covered the remaining distance and reached for my hand which I gave to him freely. He tucked it into the crook of his arm, bringing me up so I was standing next to him. “Hey, you’re taller!”

“Wasn’t I earlier?”

“No, you were Lizzy height when I saw you last at the end of the lane, and here you are Kelsey height.” He squinted at me in the dark. “And your hair.”

“Yeah, it’s back blonde. And straight, unfortunately. I kind of wish the curl hadn’t gone,” I ran a self-conscious hand over my loose bun.

He made a small, exasperated sound. “You’ve got gorgeous hair, and you know it. Kazza spends a small fortune trying to make her hair look like yours.”

I was secretly pleased that he thought I had gorgeous hair. “Does she?”

“Yeah, be careful, though. When she meets you she might try to scalp you for it. I don’t know how to tell her that no matter what she does she will always be stuck with this out of control mop. She considers it some sort of genetic curse.”

If I’d been pleased by his complimenting my hair, I was over the moon at the casual reference to me meeting his sister. I tried to tell myself to slow down and just worry about getting us out of the book first and about other stuff later, but it still made me happy.

We walked arm in arm toward the little grove of trees on the far side of the park where we’d met the previous two days. It was much slower going than it was during a morning walk, but the moon still guided our way, and there were worse things than walking next to Mark with my arm wrapped around his much stronger one. Even though our heights were similar, he still made me feel small and petite because of his strength. Touching him like this as we walked, I could tell that he kept most of that strength in check. It was interesting, he was so casual and so laid back, and he walked with an incredibly easy, loping stride, but I could feel his corded muscles under my fingers, and knew that if he wanted to turn that raw power on in a flash he could. I kind of desperately wanted to see it happen.

Focus on getting out,
I reminded myself.
Just focus.

We finally made it to the stand of trees. I could make out several dark shapes under one of the trees. I am pretty sure it was the tree we were leaning against earlier this morning when we kissed, and I hoped that it wasn’t light enough that he could see my quick blush.

“What’s that?” I asked in a low voice. I suppose this far out from either of the two houses we could speak in normal voices, but the intimacy of the soft darkness made me keep my voice lowered.

“I brought some stuff from Rosings,” he answered, his voice also still low. “Blankets and stuff so we won’t freeze. There hasn’t been any frost these last few days, but you never know.” He let go of my arm and walked over to the tree. He knelt down and rummaged around. A moment later I heard a match strike and a flame sputtered to life as Mark lit a candle. He turned back toward me and held the candle out so I could see the ground in front of me as I walked toward him.

“Oh, a candle! I thought about bringing one, but I didn’t want to take one from Charlotte,” I said as I reached the tree.

“Here sit down.” He held his hand up to me and I took it as I sank down on the blanket he’d spread out picnic-style. “I think Lady Catherine can spare a few candles,” he laughed as he turned to light the candle in a small lantern placed to the side of the blanket. He set the first candle carefully down in a holder and leaned back settling against a roll of blankets he’d propped against the tree trunk. “Come here,” he gestured for me to join him and I scooted over, sitting next to him and snuggling into the crook of his arm. “Warm enough?”

I nodded against his chest.

“I’ve got a few more blankets we can put over us as it gets colder,” he said nodding to a small stack of neatly folded blankets. “I’ll blow that candle out in awhile too, once we get sleepy. I think the one in the lantern should be okay.”

“You’re certainly prepared,” I teased softly. I was actually really touched by how much effort he’d gone to. But was afraid if I said anything that everything I was thinking and feeling about Mark—or pretending I wasn’t thinking and feeling—would come tumbling out of me of its own volition.

I felt the laugh rumble in his chest. “You don’t think I’d invite a girl out to the woods in the middle of the night and not bring some creature comforts with me, do you?”

I grinned into the dark, but tried to make my voice sounds as scandalized and severe as possible. “Do you often take young maidens out into the woods in the middle of the night, then?”

“It would be ungentlemanly of me to say,” he sighed dramatically. I poked him in the ribs and he laughed again. “I can safely say that I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Yeah, it’s a little bit unique,” I said.

“A bit,” he agreed.

“Thank you for making it so nice.”

“You’re welcome.” We settled into a comfortable silence.

After a few minutes it was Mark who broke the silence. “Are you sleepy?”

“No.”

“Me neither. You have your story, right?”

“Yup, it’s in my pocket.”

“How do you usually do this?”

“I usually fall asleep with my face smushed on it, ‘cause that’s how I got in. I fell asleep with the books smashed into my face. Really attractive, I’m sure.”

I could feel him smile. I’m not sure how, my head was resting in the crook of his arm, but somehow I could just tell he was smiling down at the top of my head.

“Not everyone has to be attractive one hundred percent of the time. We're all allowed a few book face-smashings in our lives. I fall asleep reading all the time.”

“Do you? What do you read?”

“Mostly incredibly dry historians rattling on about things they know very little about, but are very sure they are experts on. And I like a lot of detective fiction.”

“Really?” I turned my head up to look at him. “Don’t tell anyone ‘cause it might ruin my rep as a classical lit girl, but my senior undergrad thesis was on Raymond Chandler.”

“Kelsey Edmundson, are you a closet lover of the hard-boiled detective novel?” he asked with mock shock dripping from his voice.

“I admit nothing,” I sniffed delicately. Mark dropped a kiss on the top of my hair. I froze, torn between acting casual and between turning my face up to his and begging him to kiss me for real. “How is it living with Lady Catherine de Bourgh?”

“That woman is a menace.”

I snorted in laughter. “So I’ve heard.”

“I basically just avoid her. At the moment it’s pretty easy because she’s angry at me.”

“Oh really?” Now this was interesting. “What could you have possibly have done to make her angry? Darcy is her golden boy.”

“Well, the first day or so I was here I didn’t react...well...to the whole valet thing so apparently I wasn’t properly attired for dinner.”

I nodded against his chest. “Yeah, that having someone help you get dressed thing is weird. I’m guessing those cravats are hard to tie by yourself.”

“But then my ultimate transgression was that I told her in no uncertain terms that Mr. Darcy wasn’t going to marry his cousin. I may have used ‘words not fit for delicate ears.’ Honestly, I didn’t mean to curse, she just took me by surprise.”

“Oh my god, Mark. Did you ‘bloody hell’ Lady Catherine de Bourgh?” I was both horrified and delighted.

“Uh, yeah, that and a few other...descriptive terms. And she’s right, they’re not fit for delicate ears, so I won’t repeat them.”

“How gentlemanly of you.” I grinned at the thought of Lady C’s expression. “I’m surprised that none of your little un-Darcy outbursts have sent you back in the timeline. But on the other hand, I guess I’m not. If not following the timeline hasn’t then I guess it makes sense you could behave however you want and we’d keep chugging along time wise.”

“There were really only the two. I’ve been trying to keep a low profile. Fitz keeps suggesting we go riding, but I’m not about to get on a horse. I mostly just spend time playing billiards or hiding out in the library.”

I tilted my head up and stared at him. “Did you just call the Colonel ‘Fitz?’”

Mark shrugged. “That’s what Darcy calls him apparently.”

“Seriously? What’s his first name? Austen never tells us.”

“I have no idea. I didn’t really want to ask. He already thinks there’s something wrong with my head.”

“There is. It has curly read hair on it.” I smiled so he knew I was teasing.

Mark laughed and wrapped his arm more tightly around my waist. We fell back into an easy silence. I’m not sure how long we sat there, but the night started growing colder and eventually I felt my eyelids getting heavier. I was surprised because I thought I’d be so wired that I wouldn’t ever be able to fall asleep. But somehow, being here with Mark, half-sitting and half-lying here in the crook of his arm had helped melt away all of my stress and tension.

“Getting sleepy?” Mark asked when I stifled a yawn.

“Yeah. We should get covered up so we don’t freeze.”

Mark reached over and pulled a few blankets from the stack to the side of us and used his free arm to arrange two of them over us. I snuggled further into his side. He was like my own personal heater and with the blankets over us I was starting to get nice and toasty.

“Is your arm falling asleep?” I asked, yawning for real this time.

“You’re fine,” he answered, tightening his arm around my waist.

“That’s not really an answer,” I pointed out.

“My arm is not currently asleep,” he laughed softly down at me. “Don’t forget your story.”

“Oh, yeah.” I pulled it out of my pocket, opened the folded pages and debated what to do with them. I was really comfortable where I was. Mark solved the problem for me by gently taking it out of my hands and laying the open pages on his chest. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Goodnight, Mark,” I said as I lay my head down on his chest, my cheek firmly pressed onto the pages. I reached across his chest and grabbed his other hand, lacing my fingers through his. “Don’t let go,” I reminded him.

“I won’t. Goodnight, Kelsey.”

As I drifted off to sleep I thought I felt him press another kiss to my head, but I was too far gone to be sure.

~

It was the light that eventually woke me up, and the warmth on my face. I could still feel Mark's warm body pressed into mine. I was laying half in the crook of his arm and half draped across his chest, our fingers still interlaced. I could feel his chest rising and falling steadily under me. I lay there for a few minutes, not willing to open my eyes and see if our attempt at getting out of the novel had worked. I figured we could just as easily be sprawled out on the bed in my room at the apartment as in the little grove in Rosings Park. There was a part of me that just didn’t want to know. Lying here feeling Mark's chest move under my cheek was so close to heaven I didn’t want to ruin it by opening my eyes.

A breeze blew across my face. I sighed and cracked my lids open. We were under the tree at Rosings. The sun had risen and was chasing off the last bits of pearly grey fog from between the trees. We were still very much stuck in
Pride and Prejudice
.

I made an unhappy little sound in the back of my throat. I’m not sure exactly what it was, some combination of a sigh and a sob I suppose. At the sound I felt Mark stir under me, and I tilted my head to look up into his face.

His was already looking down at me. I momentarily lost track of where I was and what I’d been thinking. His eyes always did me in. I couldn’t quite make out the expression in them, so I offered him a small smile.

“Morning,” I said in a small voice.

“Morning,” he replied as a smile broke across his face. I noticed that his dimple had reappeared with a vengeance. That and—

“Oh, the bump on your nose is back!” I sat up and looked more closely at his face.

Mark grimaced. “Wonderful, the day’s news just keeps getting better, doesn’t it?”

“I like it.” In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, I reached out and ran my finger down his nose. He caught my hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. I am pretty sure I blushed an unbecoming shade of bright red. “Do you not like your nose?” I asked. “You don’t seem to have any image issues to me at all.”