We stopped and held hands, facing the judges’ table while Jeremy took an elegant bow and I did my best to curtsy in my sopping wet skirts. I shivered for what felt like five entire minutes until Mr. Periwinkle’s voice boomed across the loudspeaker again. “It seems we have a unanimous vote from the judges, which I daresay has never happened in all my years of participating in similar events.”
Whispers floated through the crowd before a hush fell across the room.
Mr. Periwinkle’s voice broke the silence. “With a perfect score of ten, plus an extra point for such panache, Dr. Knightley and Mr. Remington, I’m pleased to announce that you are the winners of this year’s Jane Austen Festival and Games.”
The crowd roared again and Jeremy grabbed me, picked me up, spun me around, and kissed me again. “We did it, Doc,” he breathed against my lips.
“We did it!” I echoed, pressing my lips against his once more.
Chapter 28
A Monday morning in early October
It was a beautiful fall day in Milwaukee when I floated into Dr. Holmes office to tender my resignation. I had on a flowy, flowered maxi dress that I’d decided was one of my favorite things to wear, pot belly and all. No control-top panties needed, and pencil skirts could go to the devil. I’d discarded the half-ass diet too. I’d never been happier.
“Dr. Knightley,” he said with tight lips the moment he saw me. He set down his pen and stood. His Deerstalker hat was sitting on the corner of the desk next to him. I stared at it, wishing he had it on because that’s how I wanted to remember him.
His eyes narrowed on me. “I’ve never seen you without your day planner.”
“Dr. Holmes,” I replied brightly. “Would you believe I threw it away? And I don’t miss it.”
That news seemed to trouble him. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I believe congratulations are in order for your winning the competition.”
I held up a hand. “No congratulations are necessary. I’ve merely come to give you this.” I let the letter float to his desktop. I braced my palms on the edge of his desk.
“What’s this?” A frown wrinkled his face. He unfolded the letter and scanned the page. “Your resignation?” His brows shot up.
“That’s right.” My smile widened. I kinda wanted to do a little dance but I thought it might be slightly inappropriate. I’d dance later, on the way to the Jetta.
“But why?” He looked up at me with the hint of panic in his eyes.
“I was under the distinct impression that I wouldn’t be welcome here any longer if I didn’t allow Dr. Macomb and Lacey to win in England. They lost by one point, you know.” I couldn’t help but get that little dig in.
“I never said that!” Dr. Holmes grabbed at his lapels and coughed. “I never said you wouldn’t be welcome here.”
“You heavily implied it.” I stood up straight and crossed my arms over my chest. I wasn’t about to let Deerslayer get away with pretending he hadn’t threatened me. “Or did I misunderstand you?”
“Look, Dr. Knightley, you’re the winner, and that brings prestige upon our department.”
I cocked my head to the side. “What you mean is, Lacey Lewis pulled out of the Pride and Prejudice remake after she lost the competition, and they never ran the story about her in the Times.”
Dr. Homes cleared his throat again. “Well, perhaps, but—”
“Perhaps nothing, her quitting the movie has been in all the papers. You don’t care anymore because you aren’t impressed by her now that she’s left campus and is getting bad press.”
“You’re still Faculty at this college. And you won the competition.” His words were punctuated by more tugs on his lapels.
“Not anymore.” I nodded toward the letter. “Besides, there’s something else I plan to work on.”
“What’s that?” He leaned forward.
“I’m going to write a historical romance novel,” I said in as smug a tone as I could muster.
“What!” His cumulous eyebrows startled.
“You heard me. I already started writing it.” I let my arms fall to my sides and spun around in a highly inappropriate circle. “And I’m having the time of my life.”
He gasped. “Have you lost your mind?”
I turned back to him and narrowed my eyes on him, giving him the stankest of stink eyes. “No, actually. I’ve never felt more sane. Or happier. You see, Dr. Holmes, I am resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected to me.”
We both knew the lines from P&P that Lizzy had delivered to Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and I’d delivered them perfectly without so much as a pause. Dr. Holmes’ throat worked as he swallowed.
He splayed his hands wide. “Dr. Knightley, be reasonable.”
“No. I don’t have to be reasonable. I don’t have to be reasonable or unemotional or un-dramatic. And you know what else? I can even be as hyperbolic as I want. In short, I don’t give a toss what you or anyone else thinks. Goodbye, Dr. Holmes.” I flipped my hair over my shoulder and turned to leave.
“Wait. Wait,” he called. “Write your novel. Do whatever you want. You can even take a sabbatical.”
I paused, turned back to face him and narrowed my eyes on him. “Really?”
“Yes, yes. Whatever you like.” He waved his hands in the air.
“How long of a sabbatical?” I drew out the word long.
“Three months?” He searched my face, obviously looking to see if that offer was sufficient.
“I want six,” I countered, tapping my sandal against the floor.
He nodded. “Certainly. Six it is.”
“And what about when I get back?” I crossed my arms over my chest again and regarded him down the length of my nose.
“What do you want?” He looked a bit frightened. I adored having the upper hand.
“Tenure,” I said simply.
His cheeks were mottled but he continued to nod. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’d intended to recommend you for it anyway.”
“Really?” I arched a brow.
He blew air into his cheeks. “Yes, of course, we’re quite proud of you here at Everton, Dr. Knightley. Not only did you win the competition, but you managed to teach a construction worker to be Mr. Darcy in a matter of days. It’s the talk of the Austen Society.”
I plucked the Deerstalker hat off his desk, spun it around on my finger once, and let it drop to the desktop. “He’s not a construction worker, not that there’s anything wrong with that. He’s a custom woodworker and he’s the best man I know. He also happens to be my boyfriend.” I grabbed the resignation letter off the desk and flounced toward the door. When I got to the threshold, I paused and glanced back over my shoulder. “I’ll be in touch with my plans for my sabbatical.”
“We want you to write an article...when you’re finished with your novel, of course,” Dr. Holmes called from behind his desk.