Epilogue
MACEY
Two Years Later
A letter from Zane to Macey, Thursday, September 15, 6:45 p.m.
Miss Bennet,
I would like to request the pleasure of your company in the small garden outside Netherfield after the assembly tonight, where I hope to ruin your reputation completely—or, at the very least, kiss you thoroughly. If you are amenable to such scandalous behavior, I shall await you by the fountain, looking devastatingly handsome in breeches.
Yours in forbidden romantic pursuits,
Mr. Bingley
P.S. If you do not arrive within fifteen minutes, I shall be forced to pine dramatically in the moonlight. Please do not force me to that extreme. You know how I hate to pine.
A LITTLE CHILL RUNS DOWN my spine as I creep through the dark night toward Netherfield Hall and the little garden where I’m supposed to meet Zane.
I’m late—because the new couple playing Mr. and Mrs. Bennet apparently take their parenting duties very seriously. They checked on Amelia and me twice to make sure we were in bed, snug and proper. Honestly, I half expected them to tuck us in and kiss us goodnight.
By the time the light finally flickered out under their door and Amelia had helped me back into my dress—a pale-blue muslin gown with a matching spencer—I was already ten minutes past the time he’d asked me to meet him.
It all feels a little surreal to be back here at the resort, back reenacting Pride and Prejudice , with some of the same cast as last time. Lady Catherine is here, of course—bosom on full display, just as before. So are the staff members who play the Gardiners, as well as the hottie who plays Mr. Collins.
This time around, I’m playing Jane, and Amelia is playing Elizabeth. She booked the trip after finally breaking up with her douchebag of a boyfriend, Garret, and I couldn’t let her go by herself. Well, actually, she wouldn’t accept any of my excuses.
Luckily, we’ve just wrapped up our summer programs at the center, so I could take some time off. My fancy new job title of Program Manager came with a raise—just enough to upgrade my ramen to the fancy brand, but not enough for a trip like this. It would’ve taken me a decade to save, and I refused to let any of the Porters pay for it this time.
But about a year ago, Zane bought a house not far from their condo, so Amelia invited me to move in with her. Thanks to my ridiculously low rent (the Porters tried to make it free, but I refused), I was able to save enough to come back and play Jane.
I came here fully aware that playing Jane required horseback riding. But I marched up to Lady Catherine before the costume fittings and told her I wouldn’t be doing it—because I was a paying customer and, therefore, didn’t have to. It was very forward of me, and while I’ve gotten better at speaking my mind, it still feels a little itchy sometimes. She answered a haughty, “Fine,” before she told me to stand taller because I was apparently slouching. So, all in all, much easier than I anticipated.
Zane, to my complete surprise, said he’d return and play Bingley. Amelia was not happy with that plan. She wanted this to be our trip, just the two of us. According to her, Zane has already been monopolizing too much of my attention—which is a fair assessment. I spend time with Amelia, we still watch Pride and Prejudice weekly, but much of my free time is spent with Zane.
We’ve gone on too many dates to count—some casual and fun, others more formal and dressy. I’ve been his plus-one at his work dinners and grand openings for projects Foothills has done. I’ve gone to family parties and am still a regular feature at Friday dinners at the Porters, except now I’m there with Zane instead of Amelia, and she never grabbed my knee under the table.
And Zane has been by my side. He was there the first time I saw my mom after rehab and helped me move her into her new apartment. He’s come with me when I’ve taken her to AA meetings and sat outside with me while we waited. He held my hand under the table when my mom apologized for the first time—not just words, but real, genuine regret. He’s talked me through my moments of panic and doubt with her, and been my rock as she and I have begun to rebuild our relationship. We still have a long way to go, but we are getting there, and I’m grateful for it.
Zane’s come to my work stuff too. He’s attended some improv nights at the center, which are mostly terrible, and has been my date for our low-budget holiday potluck parties. He’s let me rant about annoying clients and office politics, even when he has no idea who I’m talking about. He’s even stayed up late on work nights to help me make big posters and banners for my programs.
We’ve been each other’s person for the past couple of years, and it’s been, hands down, the best two years of my life. Zane sees me—even the messy, scared, vulnerable parts—and somehow, he never looks away. And I make him feel the same. Or at least, I hope I do.
I did understand why Amelia didn’t want him to come to Pride and Prejudice Park with us, even if I was dying to see him in breeches again. Sadly, he hasn’t once put on the costume that he wore for me after our first trip here, that night in his parent’s backyard. But then, out of the blue, Amelia changed her mind and he booked the trip.
So now we’re all three here at Pride and Prejudice Park, and it’s like a dream. I do wonder, though, if Zane’s main reasoning for coming was more forbidden romantic pursuits.
“Zane?” I whisper as I squeeze through the gate to find him sitting on the small bench in front of the fountain. I’m glad it’s dark because I can feel my cheeks heat at the sight of him sitting there, waiting for me in Regency garb. It seems like yesterday that he kissed me for the first time in this garden.
“Miss Bennet,” he says, standing up from the bench and walking toward me, a grand smile on his face as he pulls me into his arms.
“Why, Mr. Bingley, this is quite forward of you,” I tease, wrapping my arms around his waist.
“I told you I would kiss you thoroughly, did I not?” he says in a regal accent.
“You did.” Butterflies gather in my stomach as he leans in, his lips finding mine.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day,” he says when we come up for air, arms still wrapped around one another.
I make a tsking sound. “Romantic pursuits are not allowed,” I say in my best Lady Catherine voice.
“I love breaking that rule.” He reaches up and tucks some loose curls—left out by my lady’s maid to frame my face—behind my ear.
“I know you do,” I say, even though I’m enjoying it just as much.
“Come sit with me,” he says before grabbing me by the hand and guiding me over to the bench.
We take a seat side by side, his hand still holding mine.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask after a bit of silence.
He pulls our intertwined hands toward his mouth and plants a kiss on the back of mine. “I just wanted to spend some time with you.”
I smile, remembering that he said something similar the first time we came here.
“Oh, and I wanted to give you this.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a slightly worn, folded piece of paper before handing it to me.
I furrow my brow. “What’s this?” I ask, taking the paper from him.
“Open it,” he says.
I pull my hand from his and open the paper, careful not to tear the worn edges.
My breath catches when I see the words:
"Dear Zane, I’ve written this letter so many times I’ve lost count ... "
It’s the letter I wrote to him, all those years ago.
“Why ... what?” I ask, looking up at him and seeing a soft smile on his face. “Why do you have this?”
“I kept it,” he says.
“You ... kept it,” I repeat, sounding like a confused parrot. “But why?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“I don’t understand,” I say, looking down at the letter, shaking my head in confusion.
“Although I may not have realized it then, I think my heart has always belonged to you. That’s why I kept it.”
I hold the paper to my chest, touched beyond words that he held onto this silly letter I wrote when I was a love-struck teen. And now I’m an adult, fully in love with this man sitting next to me.
I reach for him, but he stands up from the bench and then, turning toward me, he gets down on one knee.
“Oh,” I say on a breath, my heart picking up its pace and my eyes suddenly filling with tears.
Zane takes me by the hand. “You gave me your heart once, Macey. I’ve just been waiting for the right time to give you mine.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a ring, the oval-shaped diamond catching the light, even in the dim glow.
I let out a little whimper, feeling sort of overwhelmed, but in the best way.
“So,” he says, his voice wobbling just slightly. “Macey Bennet, will you marry me?”
“Oh,” I say again, a hand going to my mouth as a lone tear travels down my face.
“Oh?” he says, giving me a questioning look. “Not exactly the answer I was hoping for.”
I shake my head. “Can you just give me a second?” I take a trembling breath, closing my eyes and trying to imprint this moment in my mind—every tiny detail—forever.
“Of course,” he says. “But you should know that if you turn me down, I’m never wearing a cravat for you again.”
I open my eyes then. “You thought I’d turn you down?”
“Well ... no. I mean, I hoped you wouldn’t.”
“Zane,” I say, leaning in, grabbing him by the back of his neck, and placing a kiss on his lips.
“Is that a yes?” he asks when we pull away.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s definitely a yes.”
He places the ring on my finger, and I hold my hand out in front of me, astonished that this is real, that I’m back in this magical place, dressed up in Regency costumes, and the man I love has just asked me to marry him.
I always wanted the kind of love that Jane Austen wrote about, to find a hero like those in her stories, but the real thing is so much better.
Sorry, Mr. Darcy—Zane Porter wins, hands down.
“I guess this means you’re stuck with me now,” he teases me.
“As long as you promise to put on breeches every now and then, I think I’m okay with that,” I say.
“That, I can do,” he replies, smiling mischievously before pulling me in for another kiss.
THE END