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Authors: Victoria Connelly

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BOOK: A Weekend with Mr. Darcy
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Robyn watched as Dame Pamela poured two generous measures into the tumblers.

‘Here,' she said.

‘Thank you.' Robyn took the glass and sipped, feeling the wonderfully warming effect of the drink as soon as she swallowed.

Dame Pamela took a hefty sip of brandy and sat down in a yellow armchair opposite Robyn.

‘So, you're in love with my little brother, eh?'

Robyn almost swallowed her second mouthful of brandy the wrong way.

‘I wouldn't blame you,' she went on. ‘He's a peach, isn't he? And he has a good heart too. Not like dreadful Julius or that appalling Gervais. I have quite a few brothers, you know, but Dan's the only one I'd recommend to anyone.'

Robyn had to smile at that.

‘Ah, yes!' Dame Pamela went on. ‘Love's a wondrous thing. I've been in love so many times. Oh,
so
many times!' she said. ‘And I still remember all my dear lovers,' she said, her eyes misting over and her voice lowering as if she were about to divulge a secret. ‘But there's always one who remains special, isn't there? For me, that was—well, I don't need to tell you his name. But he was perfect. We were so right together. Everything was an adventure, whether we were trekking in the Himalayas or shopping for groceries. We made each other laugh—
all
the time. It was blissful. It really was. But that's not to say that we didn't have our trials because we did. We fought like Richard Burton and Elizabeth Taylor. That's just the way life is, isn't it? Of course we broke up,' she said with a sigh. ‘He got married and has a rather famous son now, but you don't need to know all that.'

Robyn wished she'd go on. It was lovely listening to her talk.

‘So, back to you, my dear,' Dame Pamela said.

‘I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused,' Robyn said. ‘I'm sure Jace is too. It's just he doesn't really think things through. It's a difficult time for us, you see.'

‘And all this nonsense with him proposing!' Dame Pamela said. ‘What was all that about? I mean, he went about it the right way. I've never seen anything so impressive in my life. But he must know you don't love him.'

Robyn nodded woefully. ‘I think that's exactly why he did it.'

‘And you said
yes
!'

‘I know!' Robyn said, hanging her head in shame. It was like being cross-questioned by Dan all over again. ‘And I don't have any answers.'

‘What do you mean, you don't have any answers? You must know why you said yes.'

Robyn took a deep breath. ‘Everyone expected me to.'

‘Oh, rot!'

Robyn flinched at Dame Pamela's response.

‘You shouldn't have felt pressured by a bunch of strangers into saying something that went against your better judgement although I can see why you did it. I dread to think what that chap of yours might have done if you'd said no, but you must think about the future here, and if you don't love him, you'll have to tell him.'

‘I know I will,' Robyn said.

‘Look, my dear, if you don't mind my saying, you're in an awful muddle, and you're the only one who can get yourself out of it. I wish I could help you more, but I can't. We have to sort these sorts of problems out for ourselves, don't we? Now, get the rest of that brandy down you and get a good night's sleep. Perhaps you'll be able to see things clearer in the morning.'

Robyn nodded, hoping Dame Pamela was right.

‘Jace?' she said.

‘Don't worry about him. He's snoring for England in the West Drawing Room.'

Chapter 30

Warwick?' Katherine whispered his name and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

‘What time is it?' his voice mumbled into the pillow.

‘Time to go,' she said.

‘Can't be.'

‘It is.'

He sighed and rolled over, his hair flopped over his face. How adorable he looked, Katherine thought, hoping she looked half as cute first thing in the morning. But adorable or not, he had to get out of her room and back to his own.

‘Come here,' he said, pulling her into a warm embrace that was impossible to resist.

‘I have to get up,' Katherine said firmly, but she wasn't really making any progress. ‘I've got my talk this morning.'

Warwick looked at her. ‘So you have, Dr Roberts.'

‘Don't call me that.'

‘Why not? It's rather sexy. I'm in bed with a doctor.'

‘Warwick!'

‘Brains
and
beauty!'

‘
Warwick
!' she grabbed ahold of her pillow and bashed him.

‘All right, all right, I'm going,' he said, leaping out of bed.

Katherine watched as he hurriedly got dressed. Who was this glorious man who had come into her life, she wondered, and in the past, did Regency heroines watch their Regency heroes getting dressed?

‘I'll see you later, doctor,' Warwick said, winking as he fastened his belt.

Katherine flopped back on her pillow for a moment and sighed. How could she possibly think about giving a talk when all she could think about was Warwick? And he was going to be there too, sitting in the room staring at her with those big brown eyes. She was going to have to tune him out if she was going to get through her talk with anything approaching professionalism.

After showering and dressing in a conservative white blouse and pencil-thin black skirt, Katherine took some time applying her make-up and then wondered what to do with her hair. Ordinarily she pinned it back when giving a talk, but Warwick had said how much he liked it when she wore it loose. She experimented. Up? Down? Up? Down?

‘Down,' she said at last, letting the dark waves spill over her shoulders. She put on an extra lick of lip gloss and then sat by the window overlooking the lake and pulled out her notes for her talk. This was the real purpose of her stay at Purley Hall, but it had been very easy to forget it after meeting Warwick. Love had definitely taken precedence over literature this weekend.

***

Despite not falling asleep until the early hours, Robyn had woken just before seven and felt strangely awake. Dame Pamela's glass of brandy had, indeed, helped her sleep, and she was feeling much more able to cope with the world now that it was a new day.

After getting out of bed and pulling on the jumper she'd worn the night before, she saw the horse brooch again and stroked its silver body with her fingers, recalling Dan's face when he left her the night before. She closed her eyes because the image was too painful to bear.

‘Dan,' she whispered.

But there was something—somebody—she had to put before Dan that morning, and it was Jace. What was she going to do about Jace?

‘What would Elizabeth Bennet do?' she asked the empty room.

She took a cushion from the little armchair by the window, picked up her prize books, sat on the window seat, and took out the beautifully bound edition of
Pride and Prejudice
. Running her hands over the white and gold cover, she thought how there were few more beautiful things than a new edition of a favourite book.

Robyn might have missed the lecture titled What Can We Learn from Jane Austen? but she didn't need some stranger to tell her what she already knew.
Pride and Prejudice
was a novel about proposals: good proposals, bad proposals, and ill-advised proposals. Robyn had read and remembered them all, and she flipped through her pristine copy to find the scene she knew she had to read again. It was Elizabeth Bennet's refusal to marry the odious Mr Collins.

‘You could not make
me
happy, and I am convinced that I am the last woman in the world who would make
you
so.'

Robyn loved Elizabeth's strength in that scene. It was one of the acts that endeared her to readers. As well as being clever and witty and the very best of sisters, Elizabeth was independent and brave. In a time when marriage was the only real career option available to women, Lizzy had risked everything by turning down a suitor who would have provided her with a good living.

And then there'd been the shock of Charlotte Lucas's acceptance. It made Robyn shudder, no matter how many times she read it. It was Charlotte's only chance at a life to call her own, wasn't it? What was it she told Lizzy? ‘I ask only a comfortable home.'

Robyn stared out of the window down onto the emerald lawn and thanked her lucky stars that she was a modern woman. No matter how much she loved to read about Regency women and fancy herself dressed in sprigged muslin, in truth that life had been much tougher for a woman. No, the twenty-first century might lack the manners and the genteelness of courtship, but at least a woman could make decisions about her future without the fear of being penniless.

The fact was that Robyn didn't need Jace to provide her with a home. She had one on her own and unlike Charlotte Lucas in
Pride and Prejudice
, she had many options open to her. She didn't need to marry Jace so why had she said yes? Was it really only because everyone had been expecting her to say yes? Just imagine if she'd said no. What would have happened then? She tried to picture the scene with Jace sitting up high on Perseus, his smile filling his face. He'd been sure of her response, hadn't he? Maybe that's why men frequently proposed in public places—there was far more chance that a woman wouldn't turn them down, for fear of humiliating them. But a woman couldn't risk tying herself to the wrong man just to save a few minutes of humiliation, could she?

Robyn sighed. It was more than that, wasn't it? She still had the old nagging feeling about being tied to Jace. He was all she'd ever known. He was safe. Okay, so he didn't set her heart on fire and he annoyed the hell out of her most of the time, but they knew each other and that level of knowledge was a strange kind of comfort.

‘Like my job,' Robyn acknowledged.

Everything had always been simple. She went to the same school her mother had. She took the first job she was offered and had been there ever since, and she'd known no other man except Jace. She always took the easy option because change was scary, wasn't it? But change could be wonderful too—Jane Austen had shown her that. Elizabeth and Darcy had had to learn so much about themselves and change their whole way of thinking about each other before they could be truly happy together. Anne Elliot had changed from a dependent and naïve woman to one who knew her own mind and wasn't afraid to make her own decisions, and dear Catherine Morland was able to put aside her childlike view of the world and embrace a reality that would include her beloved Henry Tilney.

A great many of Austen's books were about growing up and learning. Her happy endings didn't come about by chance but through change which was something Robyn had never been happy embracing. Until now.

Now she knew what she had to do.

***

Warwick was singing in the shower. He liked singing, but only when he knew nobody was listening. Today it was Queen's ‘Somebody to Love,' and his voice was echoing in a manner that he thought wonderful, a fact any neighbour would have strongly disputed.

It had been another wonderful night at Purley, and Warwick couldn't help smiling when he thought about how he'd spent the whole of it with Katherine. How warm and wonderful it had been in her company! There was something—dare he say it—
settling
about being with her. He felt at ease with her although he really shouldn't because he still had to tell her the truth about himself.

‘And I will. I'm sure I will. At some point. Things will work themselves out,' he told his steamy reflection without managing to convince himself. ‘Just let me enjoy this weekend.'

But it wasn't to be. As soon as he was dressed, his phone beeped. It was a text from Nadia Sparks, his agent.

‘May come to the ball after all! Will call u. N x'

Warwick swallowed hard. Nadia was talking about the Sunday night dance at Purley. It was always a special event, and people from the publishing world did tend to gate-crash. But Nadia mustn't be one of them, he thought, quickly ringing her number. It went to voicemail, and he hung up, cursing loudly. This was the last thing he'd expected. As much as he adored his agent, he really didn't want her there. She represented Lorna Warwick, and he wasn't Lorna Warwick this weekend—far from it—and anything that threatened that fact should be avoided at all costs.

***

It was eight o'clock when Robyn walked down the stairs. Nobody was around except Higgins the butler, who this morning was sporting an indigo waistcoat with bright silver buttons.

‘Good morning, miss,' he said.

‘Good morning,' Robyn said. ‘I was going to see Jace—my… erm… fiancé.'

‘Of course, miss. Follow me.' He led the way towards the library and then opened a door that Robyn hadn't noticed before.

‘The West Drawing Room,' he explained. ‘I took the liberty of serving breakfast in here for you both.'

‘Oh, thank you,' Robyn said, noticing a tray that had been placed on a little table for her and Jace with cereal, fruit, toast, tea, and juice. It was far more than either of them deserved, after all the trouble they caused.

Higgins the butler gave a little bow and left the room, and Robyn turned to see Jace, his tousled head half-hidden in his bedding. She sat on a chair beside the makeshift bed, wondering if she should wake him. It would be much easier if she didn't, she thought. But that wasn't the way forward, and Robyn was determined that things were going to be sorted out once and for all.

‘Jace!' she whispered. He didn't stir. ‘
Jace
!'

‘Huh?' He was suddenly bolt upright, his hair sticking up in all directions at once. He winced when he felt the onset of a hangover. ‘Oh, it's you,' he said, not sounding at all pleased to see the woman he'd recently proposed to.

‘Well, of course it's me. Who did you expect?'

‘I thought it might be that strange man in the weird waistcoat. He was clattering about in here before, but I pretended I was asleep. He kept clearing his throat.'

‘That's Higgins the butler. He's made us some breakfast.'

Jace got up, pushing his blankets aside and suddenly realising that he was naked. ‘What the hell?'

‘Your clothes have all been washed and pressed. Look,' Robyn said, motioning to a chair where they were all neatly laid.

‘Blimey. I should come here more often,' he said, getting up and dressing quickly.

‘You shouldn't have come at all,' Robyn said after a pause.

He turned round. ‘What do you mean?'

‘What were you thinking about, Jace?'

He zipped his trousers up and stared at her as if she were speaking a foreign language.

‘What was I thinking of?' he said, his forehead furrowed. ‘You. I was thinking of you.'

‘But you never have before.'

‘What are you talking about?'

Robyn sighed. ‘We've got to face facts. Things aren't working out.'

He didn't say anything for a moment because he spotted breakfast and was tucking in. ‘Have some of this toast, Rob. It's fab.'

‘Jace!'

‘What?'

‘It's not working.'

‘Well, come and sit over here then,' he said.

‘I'm not talking about breakfast. I'm talking about us.'

Jace's mouth dropped open, still half-full of toast.

‘Don't look at me like that,' Robyn said. ‘You know the way I feel. You must do. It's not been right for ages, and I'm really sorry, but I should have said something before. It's just I didn't know what to say.'

Jace finished eating his mouthful of toast before gaping at her again. ‘But you said yes. You said you'd marry me, Robyn.'

She nodded. ‘I know, and I'm so sorry.'

‘You're not wearing the ring,' he said, glancing at her hand.

‘No.'

‘I want that ring back,' he said.

Robyn frowned. ‘You'll get your ring back.'

Jace's face was a kaleidoscope of emotion. It went from confused to disbelief to anger to fear.

‘I don't want the ring, Rob. It's yours. I want you to have it, and I want you to be my wife!' He'd forgotten about the food in front of him and was kneeling beside Robyn, clasping her hand in his. ‘You can't do this to me. I love you!'

‘No, you don't, Jace. You really don't.'

‘How can you say that? You don't know how I feel.' His face was pale and his eyes had a hollow look that was almost haunting.

Robyn sat forward a little. ‘We've just got used to each other,' she said. ‘We've never known anyone else.'

‘And what's wrong with that?'

‘Nothing. If we really loved each other, but I don't think we do. We're so different.'

‘But that's a good thing, isn't it? Yin and yam and all that.'

‘Yang,' Robyn corrected him.

Jace sighed. ‘I know I'm not as smart as you and I know I don't read all them books and stuff, but I do love you, Robyn. I really do.'

Robyn looked at Jace. His eyes were swimming with tears and at the sight of them, Robyn's welled up too.

‘I'm sorry,' she said. ‘I'm really sorry.'

He looked down at his shoeless feet for a moment, not saying anything, but then he looked up. ‘I was there for you, Robyn when nobody else was.'

Robyn should have known it was coming, but a part of her was hoping Jace wouldn't stoop so low at a time like this. She closed her eyes, wondering how to handle things, and decided that remaining calm was the only way.

BOOK: A Weekend with Mr. Darcy
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