Jane Actually

and Jane but the return of Ms Smith ended the call. Ms Smith returned to her interrupted discussion of the agenda and then asked again if Mary needed anything.
    “That water would be lovely.”
    Their hostess suddenly remembered her earlier promise. “I’m so sorry I forgot. I’ll get you a bottle … no, we can’t have Jane Austen drinking from a bottle.”
    She dispatched someone on the task of finding a glass of ice water and then returned to say it was time to get started. Mary took a seat in the front row while Ms Smith went to the lectern. The audience had been steadily arriving and now all the seats were filled with several people standing in the back.
    “Thank you everyone for coming,” Ms Smith said. “It’s a little early to start, but we’ve already filled the room and the fire department would frown if we tried to squeeze in anyone else. And if we start early, that allows more time for questions and answers.
    “As you all know, our guest today is Jane Austen who has just published her completed
Sanditon
, the book she was writing before her death in 1817.”
    A store employee arriving with a glass of ice water distracted Mary’s attention. He first tried to deliver the glass to the lectern but Ms Smith discreetly instructed him to give the class to Mary.
    “So please join me in welcoming Jane Austen,” Ms Smith concluded, while the man was still putting the glass in Mary’s hands.
    Mary had been so distracted by the delivery of the water that she missed her cue until she heard applause. She quickly took a sip of the water and felt a repeat of the sharp twinge in her mouth and wondered what it could be about, but she did her best to cover her discomfort as she shook Ms Smith’s hand.
    “Thank you. It is such a pleasure to visit Colorado again. I was last here in 1947 and I have such wonderful memories of my first view of the Rocky Mountains. I am embarrassed that I have waited so long to return, but I return finding the state of Colorado and the city of Denver more lovely than ever.”
    At that moment Mary realized that Stephen was standing in the back row of the room and made eye contact with him. Jane observed this and asked, “Is that him?”
    “Yes, now hush,” Mary said silently in reply and to disguise their conversation she took another sip of water, carefully this time, not allowing it to reach the side of her mouth that twinged.
    “I had forgotten, however, how dry the air is,” Mary said, as she put down the glass.
    “I do remember him. He is quite handsome, and look, he waves at you.”
    While Mary talked, Jane continued in this chatty fashion until Mary was forced to mute her earbuds.
    . . .
    “Have you any idea how difficult it is to talk while you’re giggling in my ear?” Mary asked after the last question had been answered. “What are you, twelve?”
    She had just finished shaking the hand of an enraptured woman in her sixties who for five minutes had been relating her entire association with Jane Austen since reading
Pride and Prejudice
in high school. She was finally alone and wanted to use the time to chide Jane.
    “Do not be cross, Mary. I am merely enjoying the prospect of a budding romance.”
    “We talked about going for a drive in the mountains. I don’t think that counts as a budding romance.”
    “I agree. A romantic dinner would be a better choice.”
    “And hardly discreet. Melody would have a fit if there’s a picture of Jane Austen out on a romantic date. My only worry is it leaves you on your own in the hotel room for a long time.”
    “Pish. I am easily kept amused with a good Internet connection. You rarely have time to be yourself; I insist you do this. After all, even Melody had no serious objection.”
    That had not escaped Mary’s notice. “Yeah, that was strange. Does it seem to you she’s been distracted lately?”
    “I think she allows no time for herself, which is precisely the danger you are in if you do not … ah, finally he approaches.”
    Stephen had hung back during the farewells, but as the last of the people left the room he came forward.
    “Hi, Stephen,” Mary said. “I’m glad you made it in time for the reading.”
    He hesitated, unsure how to address Mary. “Miss Austen, a pleasure to meet you again,” he finally said.
    “We’re alone, well except for Jane. You can call me Mary.” The moment she said this, however, they could hear the sounds of people approaching the room and Ms Smith and another woman