Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

A ugust 2 nd

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that a woman will fall for Mr. Darcy, whether it’s from the book or the movies. Matthew Macfadyen or Colin Firth. Of course, Colin Firth and the pond scene will always beat Matthew Macfadyen’s hand tightening scene, but the point is women always fall for Darcy. Tonight is my time to find my Darcy.

The day was perfect. The sun was out, but it wasn’t too hot even though it was the dead of summer. There was a steady breeze that ruffled Paige’s carefully curled hair, framing her face under her bonnet.

A town square was set up in the hotel’s gardens. Eli and Paige strolled together while Leah shopped and Felix and Amelia canoodled in the gazebo. Paige’s day dress was a pale green with little daisies on it. It was surprisingly comfortable, well, except for the stays. They could be worse, but Paige had kept the ties loosened. She’d purchased tea, an adorable tea cup, and a hand-embroidered scarf for winter. It had been an all-around pleasant day.

“Should we change for the ball?” Eli asked. “I can’t wait for you to see my eveningwear. I’m loving the pants. It’s like the eighteen hundreds version of skinny jeans.”

“I’m so ready for my gown. Mine is rather daring. It’s a ruby red,” Leah told them as she joined them. “If we can get Felix’s and Amelia’s attention, we can change. I can’t believe the society is hosting this whole event at The Devonshire Plaza. It was built at the end of the eighteen hundreds, not the beginning but it’s so beautiful. The gardens are so perfectly landscaped that I can’t wait to see the ballroom.”

“What’s the latest with Fraser?” Eli asked after they finally rounded up the group and headed to the hotel room the Jane Austen group, who had hired Leah, had given her for the event.

Fraser was frustrating. “I feel as if every time we get started, something makes us hit pause. He’s working tonight. He works a ton. I understand that being a doctor is very demanding, but it’s been almost a month since we saw each other in person. We get to text a lot, so it’s not as if he’s ditched me.”

Leah unlocked the room and Fraser was instantly forgotten in the whirlwind of dresses, fake jewels, and silk slippers. The costumes were on loan from a friend of Eli’s with the promise that they’d be tagged in social media. Leah was clicking away, not only posting on her personal profile but on the Jane Austen one as well.

“Ladies,” Eli said, holding out his elbows for Paige and Leah. “May I escort you fair maidens to the ball? ”

The Devonshire wasn’t as large as The Plaza. It had been built several decades before that historical hotel and was several stories shorter. However, they’d done a fine job preserving the historic feel of the place. Beautiful wallpaper hung on the walls. Large real crystal chandeliers hung in the massive lobby with white and black marble flooring.

The hotel staff serving in the ballroom was in full costume. Paige got a good look as they inched toward the open ballroom doors to be announced.

“Welcome to the immersive Jane Austen experience,” a woman in the finest finery said with a smile as she held out a basket filled with phones. “I’m Lady Elizabeth Longhurst, president of our society. Here are your dance cards for the evening. Tonight, we strive for authenticity. No cell phones, with the exception of Miss Leah for work. The food, the music, and the dancing are all authentic to the time period and we expect your behavior to match as well. Please place any phones you have in the basket and enjoy being whisked back in time.”

“Miss Leah told us about the phones, so we left them in the room, Lady Longhurst. Thank you. This is simply beautiful,” Paige said, giving the woman a small curtsey out of respect.

“Very nice manners, miss. Let me introduce you to my nephew.” Lady Longhurst waved over a man as Paige stood up. This was so much fun. It was unscripted theater. “Miss?”

“Paige Turner, ma’am.”

“Miss Turner, this is my nephew, Lord Longhurst.”

The man stood a couple of inches taller than Paige. His hair was blond, and his face showed the perfect mix of interest and disinterest. He looked as if he had broad shoulders, but on closer inspection, Paige believed it was padding. Overall, he was nailing his Regency impression.

“Miss Turner,” he said, taking her hand and bowing over it. “It would be an honor if you allowed me to claim a dance. Perhaps you have the supper waltz open?”

Paige held out the little dance card with the attached pencil. He signed it Lord Longhurst before bowing to her and walking off to the card room.

“There’s a card room?” Eli asked.

“Yes,” Lady Longhurst replied. “Up there is the card room, then follow that hallway to the retiring rooms. Dinner will be served in the attached room where tables are set up.”

Leah was snapping pictures. “This is perfect. I’ll get them all posted now. It’s exactly like stepping into the pages of Jane Austen’s books.”

Paige linked her arm with Eli’s again as they all headed into the ballroom. They mingled, took a turn, and had introductions made. Men signed her dance card and then found her to claim their dances.

Paige was very relieved she’d watched every Jane Austen movie over the last week and learned the dances. The live musicians played several tunes from the movies that Paige recognized. She missed several steps and was obviously an amateur compared to some of the dancers, but it didn’t take away from the fun.

After several hours, Lord Longhurst came to claim his waltz. He slid his hand around her waist, and after dancing more group dances, she could see how the waltz was considered scandalous. Their bodies brushed against each other as they twirled around the floor.

“You look very beautiful tonight, Miss Turner,” Lord Longhurst said as he masterfully led her around the floor.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“I can’t believe Almack’s approved the waltz, but holding you in my arms makes me forever grateful that they did.” Lord Longhurst used his thumb to brush against her spine and the simple move was sexy. Goodness, it really was as if she were in the middle of a Jane Austen book. “You look flushed, Miss Turner. Shall I escort you to the retiring room to compose yourself before supper?”

Paige frowned when he didn’t wait for an answer but swung her in the direction of the hallway as if they were still dancing the waltz.

“I don’t need the retiring room, my lord.”

Lord Longhurst winked and Paige got the picture. She was about to have a rendezvous with a rake, just like in the books she read. A shiver of excitement ran through her as she tried not to giggle. The second they were out of sight of the ballroom, Lord Longhurst pulled her down the hall and into a small enclave hidden by a potted plant. The excitement of a liaison, the excitement of being able to hear everything around them, the excitement of possibility being discovered . . . she saw the appeal. She was experiencing it. It was as if she’d never kissed a man in public before. Her breathing was shallow and quick as her pulse rose.

Only . . . “Do you smell that?” Paige asked, momentarily slipping from her character. She sniffed and swore she smelled something.

“I only smell the loveliness of your hair, the scent of your essence, and my desire to bury my face in your quim.”

That shook her from her thoughts of whatever she was smelling as Lord Longhurst began to pepper her hand with kisses, pulling her glove slowly off and kissing every inch of her skin as it was exposed. It wasn’t even a kiss on her mouth, but it felt more intimate than kissing someone on a busy sidewalk or in a club.

“Do you know what’s wonderful about this time period?” he asked, but Paige was distracted by the scent in the air. It smelled like—

“Is that smoke? Do you think there’s a fire?”

“The only fire is my burning desire for you,” Lord Longhurst said, moving his kisses to her neck. “And how delectable your décolletage looks in this dress.” He tugged gently, and her breasts practically poured out.

Bodice ripper was a generous term. This was barely a bodice tug, and out her breasts came. Okay, this was moving fast. “Wait,” Paige said, putting her fingers through his hair and tugging him up. “I smell smoke.” The second she said it, the fire alarm went off.

There were screams in the distance and then the smell of smoke was nearly overpowering. It was as if the smoke rolled in like a tsunami. To say that Lord Longhurst was chivalrous in an emergency situation would be a gross exaggeration. He screamed a good three octaves higher than Paige ever could. The exit signs were already covered with smoke and she felt and heard people suddenly around them screaming and rushing by as they coughed.

“We need to get low,” Paige called out. There was no response. “Longhurst?”

Paige yanked up her bodice, safely tucking the girls away, before she reached out and felt nothing but smoke. That asshole had left her. A deep cough racked her body as she dropped to the ground. She scrambled to reach the small purse that dangled from her wrist. Opening it, she pulled out the dainty linen handkerchief that had been stuffed inside and put it over her mouth and nose.

The smoke was less dense down here, but whatever had caught fire was smoking like crazy. Paige began to crawl toward what she thought was the exit. Off to her side, she heard someone crying.

“Longhurst?” she yelled over the sound of the smoke detectors. Then suddenly, there was a strange whooshing sound and water began to spray from the ceiling.

The smoke cleared enough for Paige to see a young woman curled up against the wall. Definitely not Longhurst. Paige crawled to her. The poor thing was shaking and in hysterics. “Come on. Follow me!” Paige yelled, but the woman just shook her head and shivered in fear.

“Elizabeth Bennett wouldn’t sit here. She’d rescue herself!” Paige yelled. The woman registered what Paige said and nodded.

Paige held out her hand and waited. The woman reached out, placed her hand in Paige’s, and looked like a deer in the headlights, but at least she’d stopped crying. “Don’t let go of me. We’re going to crawl towards the exit. What’s your name?”

“Kristen, but my friends call me Kitty.”

Of course. Out of all the Bennett sisters Paige got in an emergency, it would be Kitty. The one sister Paige had always wanted to punch in the face, well okay, second sister. Lydia was a nightmare too. “Okay, Kitty. I’m Paige. Let’s do Lizzie proud.”

Kitty clung to Paige as they both coughed and slowly crawled on their hands and knees in the smoke. She had no idea if she was moving in the right direction, but she kept her shoulder to the hallway wall and figured it would lead her either to the bathroom in one direction or the exit in the other.

“Paige, we’re not going to make it,” Kitty said between coughing fits.

“Oh yes, we are. When it looked as if Lizzie was going to have to marry Mr. Collins, did she give up? No. She fought for her independence and she fought for a future she couldn’t even envision. The point is, she fought for herself and that’s what we are going to do. We’re going to fight.”

“Okay, Paige. I’ll keep going,” Kitty said, not sounding all that convinced.

The wall was growing warmer, which Paige didn’t take as a good sign. They should have gone the other way. But then, a light flashed through the smoke.

“NYFP!” a voice yelled. “Is anyone in here?”

Relief and adrenaline hit at the same time. “Here!” she yelled as Kitty began to half sob and half scream.

The beam of light swung in their direction and Paige raised an arm and waved.

“I got two!” she heard the firefighter yell, and suddenly more lights appeared in the distance, along with the sound of water being sprayed at high pressure. More smoke billowed from what had to be the ballroom, but all Paige cared about was the beam of light running toward them.

“Hey, it’s bookworm girl. I told you it was better to just watch the movie. You wouldn’t have been caught up in the fire if you were at the movie theater.” Paige heard the firefighter say when he stopped in front of her. “How’s the ankle?”

“Eddie?” she asked since she couldn’t see his face behind his mask. “Is Gina here?”

“Yup. It’s me. She’s outside working on everyone with injuries. Can you both walk?” Eddie asked.

Paige began to stand up, but Kitty clung to her, making it hard. “Kitty, can you stand?”

“I’m t-t-too scared,” Kitty stuttered between sobs.

“It’s alright, miss. I got you.” Eddie bent down and a second later, Kitty was up in his arms. “Bookworm girl, grab my jacket and don’t let go.”

Eddie didn’t have to tell her twice. Paige had a death grip on his jacket as he led them around firefighters hosing down the inferno of a ballroom and toward the wide-open front door.

Paige hadn’t even cleared the door when she heard her name being shouted. Leah, Amelia, Felix, and Eli were trying to push their way past the barrier NYPD had set up, but that’s not who got to her first.

Strong arms were wrapped around her and she was swung up into the arms of none other than Detective Max Caldwell. “Hello, Lizzie. How was the ball?”

Paige laughed but then coughed from the smoke. Max’s smile faded to a concerned frown.

“Max? I thought it was you,” Kitty said, looking over Eddie’s shoulder as he carried her toward the firetrucks. “It’s me. Kitty. Sierra’s friend.”

All the romantic thoughts of being carried to safety by a dashing hero burnt to a crisp in that one moment. Sierra, the socialite girlfriend.

A man in a suit had the barrier parted for him. He was in his fifties, his head looked to be shaved, and he looked familiar. Why did he look—oh! He was the mayor of New York City. He’d been a big action star in Hollywood, but after a bad injury on set, he’d turned to politics.

“You saved my daughter! I can’t thank you enough,” he said as Eddie set Kitty down. Kitty threw her arms around her father’s neck and cried.

“I only carried her out, sir,” Eddie said, turning to where Paige was still in Max’s arms. “She’s the one who saved your daughter. She got her onto the floor and was leading her to the exit when I found them.”

“Oh!” Kitty gasped. “Yes, Daddy. This is Paige. She found me frozen in the hall and saved my life!”

“Max,” the mayor said as if he were buddies with a detective, “it appears you know this woman. Want to introduce us?”

Max set Paige down but didn’t remove his hand from her waist where he kept her tight against him. Sierra would love that. Kitty was sure to tell her. “Mayor Walt McLaine, this brave woman is my . . . friend, Paige Turner. ”

The mayor didn’t take her hand as she expected. He hugged her, pulling her out of Max’s embrace. “I can’t thank you enough, Miss Turner. Max, send me Paige’s contact information. I’ll let you both get medical care but know I’ll be in touch to properly thank you. Max, tell Sierra we say hello next time you see her. Again, thank you, Miss Turner. Words can’t express my gratitude.”

Paige watched as father and daughter were quickly enveloped in Gina’s care. Gina sent Paige a wink and then got to work.

“Guess I don’t get medical treatment since I’m not the mayor’s daughter,” Paige teased before coughing again.

“Oh, you do. Come on. Time for another trip to the emergency room.”

Oh swell.