“Very nice. You have an interesting arrangement.” Charles rubs Jane’s shoulder, as though the intimate contact is something they’ve established over months, not hours. “Is there a common area?”

“My room’s supposed to be the living room.” Jane rests a hand over Charles’s, twining their fingers. “This is a one-bedroom.”

I keep my features neutral, but inside, I’m floored. Rare as they are, Jane’s even-keeled when it comes to hookups: some friendly chitchat in the a.m. and then he sends the lucky fellow on his merry way. This hand-holding and petting is a first; that he’s literally showing off last night’s conquest borders on surreal.

Beneath the covers, I wedge my foot under him again, digging my toes into his side to get him moving. With such an exceptional situation, he’d best keep the momentum going.

Jane pops off the bed, sidling up to Charles in one smooth motion. “Sorry for disappearing. I didn’t want to wake you. I was telling Bennet about brunch plans.” He links arms with Charles in another move that has me restraining a baffled Wha? “I got her and me roped into eating with Andrea.”

“Brunch with Andrea?” We’ve only ever had drinks with her outside of Meryton once. Jane and I left staggering. “I don’t know if I have it in me.”

Jane shrugs, using the motion to gain further contact with Charles’s bare side. “She plied me with an additional booking next week.” He squeezes Charles’s arm, then starts for the door. “You were there. You can vouch.”

“Andrea?” Charles replies, letting himself get escorted. “Yes, she can be very persuasive.” He turns to wave, Jane already in the hall. “It was nice seeing you again, Bennet. You, ah . . .” He smiles. “You made quite an impression last night.” The smile broadens into that charming grin of his. “Even I appreciated your Four of Clubs.”

For Jane’s sake, I don’t share that I know perfectly well how shallow that supposed impression was. So I grin back, throwing my arms up in the same position as on the card—forgetting about my nudity.

In the split second it takes for the comforter to drop from my shoulders, I go from embarrassment to mortification. But the goose down piles into a barrier just above my boob region, and Charles is spared an eyeful.

He makes a show of covering his eyes, then continues to the hall, still chuckling.

I take my time getting ready, in case Charles and Jane need more than a few minutes to say or otherwise convey their goodbyes. The front door opens and closes late in my hair regimen, the scrape of the door over the thick mat competing with the hiss of my hairspray.