Jane ignores the snark. “But can you imagine how”—his brows lower as he searches for a word—“disgraceful it would be if Darcy truly treated someone who’d been so kind to his father in such a way? Someone he’d known all his life? No decent person would do that.”

“Doesn’t have to be decent to be worthy of lust.” Ming places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “You have my blessing to bone him anyway.”

“Seconded,” Chloe chimes.

“Thank you both,” I say, deadpan. “I don’t know. It’s all jumbled. And disappointing.” I meet Jane’s eyes in the mirror. “That night at Pemberley, he was charming and chatty and flirty—”

“Flirty?” Ming kneels to secure a pin at my waist. “He Who Could Not Be Tempted was flirty?”

I hold my hands up, mindful not to shift the dress.

“Do you think we could double-date?” Jane’s question comes with an excited lilt.

“Don’t you dare bring this up to Charles,” I warn.

“I wonder if they’ve talked about it,” he muses. “Darcy’s with Charles in LA. Apparently he’s considering a move back here, too.”

Oh? According to Jane, Charles is looking into something permanent in Manhattan, a prospect that left Jane squirming in delight. But that Darcy might be sticking around, too . . .

“You going to be shivering again?” Ming points at my chest. “Warn me. You could put my eye out with those things.”

I stick out my tongue.

“I could ask Charles about Wickham,” Jane offers. “If you’d told me all this sooner I might have been able to find out before he left.” A little light goes out of his eyes. “I suppose it wouldn’t reflect well on Charles either,” he says, voice low, “if he’s friends with someone who could be so cruel.”

I wince. I didn’t consider that.

Jane’s phone buzzes on the bed. His worry vanishes. “It’s him,” he announces, barely able to get the words out around his smile, and answers with a cool, “Hey, you.” He waves goodbye to Chloe as he heads to his room.

I meet Ming’s eyes in our reflection. She rolls hers. She hasn’t brought up her “Jane needs to tone it down” theory since Red, White, and Boobs, but I have no doubt she’s still thinking it.

“As exciting as your possible romantic developments are, I’m still swooning over the news that you’re designing again,” says Chloe. I look at the phone, and she’s applying shadow to her other eye now. “I was preparing to have a come-to-Jesus over my visit.”

“Why’s that?”

She angles her head closer to the camera, filling the screen with her disapproving stare. “Liz, it’s been three years of you working at that office and kittening. What exactly is the endgame?”

I glower at her. “Is my mom putting you up to this?”