Jane Actually

suspicion that he had lost Jane’s affection.
    “I know full well why you there, Albert. I had been distant with you, primarily because I was busy with … no, I lie again. I was distant for I had been deceiving you for years and did not know how to explain away my deception. And before you say another word in apology, I now own up to my sin being the greater.”
    Her comment made him look for her, an action he knew to be stupid and nonsensical, but he sought her out nevertheless. Finally he consoled himself to look upon her avatar.
    Mary and Stephen had walked to the refreshments table and were drinking punch. He had unconsciously followed them. They seemed to be happy—he saw Stephen laugh at a joke from Mary—and was reassured that any unpleasantness with Jane had been resolved.
    Jane had also followed the couple and observed Stephen more closely. She also noticed that many of the guests observed Mary and Stephen as well and that their easy rapport caused some comment.
    She thought she should say something to Mary, but then was reminded of her own pleasure when she had been the object of speculation at assemblies. She was about to remark on this to Albert when she realized that the next dance was to begin.
    “I think the dance is to begin,” Albert asked. “Shall we join Stephen and Mary and follow the convention of using their terminals?”
    “What convention?” Jane asked, and Albert explained the convention that had been suggested at the orientation meeting. He felt a little silly as he did so.
    “What a charming idea,” Jane said. “We truly will be dancing.”

    “How do you think they’re getting on?” Stephen asked as Mary sipped the too sweet punch. She’d only just arrived at the ball and really didn’t require refreshment but Stephen had fetched it and so she felt obliged.
    “Something wrong with the punch?” he asked, quickly drinking the remainder of his cup. The dance had left him surprisingly thirsty.
    “No it’s fine,” she answered, and fought to suppress her distaste of it. Then remembering his previous question, she replied, “I have no idea how they’re getting on. Jane was ready to rip my head off right after the Q&A, but later back in the room … she and Mel talked and something happened. At least Jane’s no longer talking about firing me. So she’s calmed down. I don’t know how she feels about Albert, though.”
    She said the last in a whisper, although the general noise made it unnecessary. Occasionally they’d been interrupted by introductions, but it was obvious that a certain awe kept many from approaching Austen’s avatar uninvited. She wondered for a moment if people were worried that they couldn’t approach her without someone to make an introduction. And that thought led her to the image of Mr Collins, the obsequious clergyman from
Pride and Prejudice
, who’d presumed to introduce himself to Darcy. She couldn’t help but smile at the image.
    Stephen was feeling very guilty, forgetting that she was actually author of the scheme, and was about to apologize again when he saw her slight smile.
    “What’s funny?” he asked.
    “Huh? Oh, I just I’ve become a Janeite.”
    Her response was so unexpected that he laughed and she looked at him with an even wider smile.
    “It’s not funny. You don’t have any idea how complicated this has become.”
    “But I should have. I know how much Austen guarded her privacy.”
    “Hey, it was my plan, not yours. I just hope it worked in the long run. Better she should be mad at me than Albert.”
    He wanted to remark how her comment did her credit, but saw she was distracted.
    “They’re getting ready for the next dance.” She put her punch glass on the table behind them and then took his as well. “It’s
Mr Beveridge’s Maggot
, thank God. I know this one by heart.”
    She unmuted her terminal to inform Jane.

    Jane saw Mary’s remark, although the terminal translated it as “It’s Mr UNINTELLIGIBLE Maggot.”
    “Oh no, I’ve never actually danced that,” she said with some alarm. She was familiar with the dance from the various filmed adaptations of her novels and from watching Mary practice it, but she had never bothered to learn it. 1
    “You realize that your avatar does the actual dancing,” Albert said.
    “But if I am to follow her … you think I’m being silly, don’t you?”
    “Just a little, but I did promise to dance with you. I just never realized it would take this form.”
    Jane