A Weekend with Mr. Darcy (22 page)

Just before Dame Pamela had left Robyn at the foot of the stairs, she'd leant forward and given her the sort of hug one could normally expect only from a mother. It had almost brought tears to Robyn's eyes again.

‘You've been so kind,' she said.

‘Oh, nonsense!'

‘I can't believe how much trouble I've caused.'

‘My darling girl, you've been an absolute poppet, and nobody blames you for anything. I'm just glad things have finally sorted themselves out.' Dame Pamela gave her a smile, but there was a look in her eyes that Robyn didn't quite understand. ‘I only wish there was more I could do for you.'

‘But you've done so much already.'

Dame Pamela smiled. ‘And it's been the very least I could do. Now, why don't you go and see Dan?'

‘Dan?'

Dame Pamela nodded. ‘He'll want to know, won't he?'

‘Yes,' Robyn said, ‘but are you sure he'll want to see me? We didn't exactly part on good terms last night.'

‘Yes, but that was last night and this is today, isn't it?' Dame Pamela said.

Robyn wasn't quite sure how that made any difference.

‘Of course he'll want to see you. If I know my little brother at all, I'd say he adores you so go and see him right away. Then you can ask him to the ball tonight, can't you?' There was a naughty twinkle in Dame Pamela's eyes, and it was soon reflected in Robyn's own.

***

Robyn saw him as soon as she walked under the clock tower into the stable block. He was bending down with his back to her, cleaning out one of Poppin's back hoofs. She watched him for a moment, and he was completely absorbed in his work, his coppery hair flopping over his face and his muscles straining as he worked. Would he want to see her? His sister seemed to think he would, but Robyn wasn't so sure. The look on his face the night before was burned deeply into her brain, and it was hard to imagine that he'd want to see her ever again.

‘Okay, Pops, all done,' he said, letting go of the hoof and straightening up.

Robyn caught his eye and gave a hesitant smile. ‘Hello,' she said.

‘Robyn!'

She slowly walked towards him and as she did so, Biscuit and Moby appeared out of nowhere and crashed into her with enthusiasm. She bent to fuss them. At least they were still talking to her—in their own particular doggy way, she thought.

Dan ran a dusty hand through his hair and looked at her, obviously waiting for her to say something, but Robyn didn't know how to begin. At the beginning, of course, she thought to herself. Isn't that what Dan had told her?

‘I've broken up with Jace,' she said.

Dan's eyes widened at her words. ‘Really?'

She nodded, and then something occurred to her. ‘It's a bit like Jane Austen,' she said. ‘She was engaged once. Not for long, though. They think it probably lasted about twelve hours.'

‘Like your engagement, then?' Dan said.

‘I know. Isn't it weird?' Robyn said, realising the similarities for the first time.

‘So what happened to Jane Austen?' Dan asked, and he looked genuinely interested.

‘Well, she'd accepted a proposal from a rich man called Harris Bigg-Wither. He was even richer than Mr Darcy, and she and her mother and sister would have been looked after for life. But she changed her mind in the morning and withdrew her acceptance.'

‘Why?'

There was a sadness in Robyn's eyes as she answered him. ‘I think she said yes with her head but no with her heart.'

‘Like you?'

‘I said yes because I was scared of what Jace would do if I said no.'

‘But you're not scared now?'

‘No,' she said.

There was a moment's pause.

‘I can't see that ever having worked out,' Dan said. ‘Between Jane Austen and that guy, I mean. Can you imagine?
Pride and Prejudice
by Jane Bigg-Wither!'

‘I know. It's a terrible name for a writer, but everyone thinks that she wouldn't have written at all if she'd married.' Robyn inwardly sighed in relief at the ease with which they were talking again.

‘So it all worked out for the best?' Dan said.

‘From a reader's point of view, I guess it did.'

‘Things usually do, you know.'

‘What?' she said.

‘Work out for the best.'

Robyn nodded. ‘Anyway, Jace has gone.'

‘Back to Yorkshire?' Dan asked.

‘I hope so. I don't think I could handle another of his surprise visits,' she said.

There was another pause where they stood staring at each other, inching around the subject with caution.

‘Are you okay?' Dan asked at last.

‘Everyone keeps asking me that,' Robyn said.

‘That's because everybody cares.'

‘I'm not going to break, you know.'

‘I know that,' he said and he gave her a little smile. ‘Look, I wanted to say sorry about last night.'

‘Me too,' Robyn said.

‘I was just worried about you. I knew you weren't happy, and I wanted to protect you.'

‘You sound like Colonel Brandon,' Robyn said.

Dan frowned.

‘
Sense and Sensibility
,' Robyn explained. ‘He's forever rescuing one of the heroines, Marianne Dashwood.'

‘Ah,' he said.

‘But I don't need rescuing,' she said. ‘I can look after myself.'

He nodded. ‘I know.'

Robyn reached out and gave Poppin a pat. He was standing patiently as the two of them wrestled awkwardly with their emotions.

‘I've got your book,' Dan said suddenly. ‘
Pride and Prejudice
. I finished it last night.'

‘Really?'

‘Couldn't sleep. I got up and made a cup of that dreadful chamomile tea and sped through to the end.'

‘What did you think?'

‘It still tastes of wee.'

‘No!' Robyn said. ‘Not the tea! What did you think of the book?'

‘Brilliant! Really brilliant. Had me hooked. Couldn't wait to see if Darcy and Elizabeth were going to get together after his bungled proposal.'

‘I know!' Robyn said. ‘Every time I read it, I always feel sure they're never going to get together after all the awful things they've said to each other.'

‘But they do,' he said.

‘Yes.' Robyn's eyes met his. ‘They do.' For a moment, she thought that Dan was going to rush forward and kiss her. His eyes looked at her with intensity, and she longed to feel that warmth and excitement that she felt when they embraced, but he stood perfectly still and she looked down at the ground, trying to calm herself before she spoke again.

‘I've actually come to ask you something,' she said.

‘Oh?'

‘Would you like to go to the ball with me?'

‘Pammy's ball?'

‘It's tonight.'

‘I know. I usually try to make sure I'm out of the way.'

Robyn looked disappointed.

‘It's just that Pammy always tries to rope me in to dance with all the old dearies. You know how it is at these things—the women always outnumber the men.'

‘I know,' Robyn said, ‘which is why I'm here to bag myself a partner.' She grinned, and he grinned back at her.

‘I'm a terrible dancer,' he said.

‘So am I,' she said. ‘We're being taught some of the dances later this afternoon, but I'll be sure to forget them by this evening.'

‘Then we'll be treading on each other's toes?'

‘Most definitely,' she said.

‘Sounds great,' he said. ‘I'll see you later then.'

Robyn gave Poppin one last pat and then left the stable block with a veritable spring in her step.

***

After a session of Jane Austen Scrabble in which Doris Norris managed to place the word
wax
on a triple word score, everybody met in the library for dance lessons led by Grace Kaplan, a sprightly sixty-year-old who could turn even the most reluctant dancer into a Regency John Travolta in the space of ninety minutes. Dame Pamela had rushed out to the stables and insisted that Dan take part too, so Robyn and Katherine were amongst the lucky few who had male partners.

Katherine tied her hair back and was looking forward to following in the dainty footsteps of some of her favourite heroines, but she noticed that Warwick was still not quite himself.

‘It'll be fun,' she said to him, squeezing his hand in hers as they lined up for the first dance.

‘Oh, I know,' he said, flashing her a quick smile that seemed all surface and no substance. She followed his line of vision to the driveway outside.

‘Are you expecting someone?' she asked.

‘What?'

‘You keep looking outside. I was wondering if you're expecting someone.'

‘Me? No.'

‘Oh,' she said. ‘You just seem a little distracted.'

‘No I'm not,' he said, turning his attention to her again.

‘You're not hiding something from me, are you? A Lucy Steele isn't going to suddenly come crawling out of the woodwork, is she?'

‘Lucy Steele?'

‘Edward Ferrars's secret fiancée,' Katherine said with a little stab at humour.

‘Oh, yes. Of course,' he said, and then he seemed to realise what she was getting at. ‘Good grief, no!' he said. ‘What do you take me for?'

‘Not a married man, I hope!' she said with a laugh, but she was secretly remembering her horror at having found out the truth about David.

‘Me—married? You must be joking!' Warwick said.

‘Well, that's all right then,' Katherine said and they turned their attention to Grace, who proceeded to give them a set of instructions more complicated than the Dashwood family tree.

***

By the end of the session, everyone was gasping for a cup of tea. Toes had been stepped on and fingers had been crushed in pursuit of Austensian perfection, and now most of the participants were able to execute rather accurate versions of several country dances. Even Dan managed to surprise himself, contorting his tall frame into any number of elegant movements, much to the envy of all the women who did not have the fortune of being his partner.

‘Is he your new beau, then?' Doris Norris asked Robyn once Dan had left the library to return to the stables.

‘We're just good friends,' Robyn said.

Doris Norris smiled. ‘Just good friends. Like Emma and Mr Knightley, eh?' she said with a chuckle.

Robyn blushed, and it was then that she realised that there were decisions to be made. Her relationship with Jace was well and truly over, but was she really ready to leap into another one?

The sumptuous splendour of the Sunday night dinner was partially eclipsed by the promise of the Purley Ball later that evening. It was the only thing people were talking about and Robyn couldn't help being excited at the prospect of dancing with Dan all evening. She was thankful that he was still talking to her after all that she'd put him through. What a weekend it had been, but she wasn't going to think about any of that tonight, and she wasn't going to worry about what would happen tomorrow when she had to leave Purley and catch the train back up to Yorkshire.

She couldn't wait to go upstairs and put on the dress she'd chosen. An hour before dinner, Dame Pamela turned the library into a wonderful sort of dressing room where rail upon rail of wondrous Regency-inspired dresses and outfits had been wheeled out of storage. Katherine hadn't been sure if they were historically accurate or not, but they were certainly beautiful.

Robyn chose a dress in a lovely shade of rose pink with pretty puff sleeves and a silky ribbon tied under the bust, and Katherine chose a traditional white, its square neckline daringly low cut and trimmed with silver braiding. Warwick resisted Katherine's urges to don a pair of breeches and a cravat but gave in to wearing a fine waistcoat in a thick duchess satin over his own choice of shirt and trousers.

Of course it wasn't compulsory to choose a costume—guests could wear what they wanted—but the chance to wear something that made you feel as if you'd stepped right out of the pages of an Austen novel was too good an opportunity to miss, and there'd been a mad scramble for the prettiest gowns.

It was going to be a hugely romantic Regency affair and after dinner was over and everybody changed, walking down the staircase in their peacock splendour, they all made their way towards the Great Hall. It was a room that new guests to Purley had not yet seen. The huge white double doors that had remained closed over the weekend were flung open to receive everyone, and the room was greeted with gasps of delight as they entered. The walls were peach coloured, the white plasterwork was stunning, and the ceiling was embossed with thick whorls with cupids firing their arrows at the guests below. At its centre hung an enormous chandelier. Robyn gazed up into its depths. It looked like a frozen waterfall and sparkled and danced with light.

Everywhere, candles and mirrors reflected the guests and gave the impression that the room stretched to infinity. It was the most beautiful, most over-the-top scene Robyn had ever cast eyes on. She was breathless and speechless. Was this how Catherine Morland felt the night she attended her first ball in Bath? She looked around at the other guests. There was Rose and Roberta, both sporting feathery fascinators that bobbed about whenever they turned their heads. Carla was resplendent in bottle green and gold. Even Mrs Soames managed to look glorious in a lilac satin gown, her fan held over her bosom which was threatening to burst from its Regency confines.

Robyn loved the way that her taffeta dress flowed coolly over her legs and she delighted in the way it rustled as she moved.

A string quartet struck up and filled the space with music, and she saw Grace Kaplan in a stunning sky-blue dress, there to make sure her work that afternoon wasn't wasted and that everyone was up and dancing.

‘It's just like the Netherfield ball!' Robyn heard Rose exclaim as she clasped her fan to her chest in delight, and Robyn had to agree with her. It was like a scene from a very expensive movie, and everyone looked like a star that night, not just Dame Pamela Harcourt. Gasps of delight issued forth as she made her entrance. She looked enchanting. Her hair was piled up on top of her head Marie Antoinette-style, and she was wearing a silver dress that sparkled with beads. Diamonds dripped from her ears, throat, and wrists.

‘I'm not sure how Austensian she looks,' Roberta said.

‘Yes,' her sister Rose agreed. ‘More ostentatious than Austen, I think.'

Robyn saw Katherine across the room and went to join her, and the two embraced, great smiles plastered on their faces.

‘But there aren't enough men!' Katherine said with a sigh.

‘Where's Warwick?' Robyn asked her.

‘On his way. I knocked on his door but he wouldn't let me in. I'm not sure what he's up to.'

‘Oh, I think I know,' Robyn said, nodding to the other side of the room as Warwick made his entrance.

Katherine gasped when she saw him and Robyn smiled in delight.

‘I don't believe it!' Katherine said. ‘He said he was only going to wear the waistcoat.'

Warwick wasn't wearing just the waistcoat but was sporting the full period works which included a very snug pair of breeches and a cravat that made him look very Darcy-like.

‘Don't say a word,' he told Katherine as he approached her, waving a finger of warning lest she was about to laugh at him.

‘But you look wonderful,' she told him.

Robyn watched as the two of them embraced and took to the floor.

‘Where's your lovely young man, then?' Doris Norris asked, appearing at Robyn's elbow. She was wearing a pretty gown in primrose yellow and a lovely cameo necklace.

‘We split up,' Robyn said.

‘I know that,' Doris said. ‘I meant that hunky young man from the stables.'

Robyn's eyes swept the floor in embarrassment. ‘I don't know,' she said.

‘What do you mean? There he is!' Doris announced, and Robyn looked up and saw him.

‘Dan!' she said softly. He, too, was in authentic costume, except his was more Captain Wentworth than Mr Darcy. He was wearing a deep navy and gold jacket with bright buttons and thick gold braiding along the collar and sleeves. His hair looked even brighter than usual, and his appearance caused an instant stir in the women.

‘You can't beat a man in uniform,' Doris said, her cheeks turning quite pink as she took in the wondrous sight before her. ‘If only I were a little younger—say forty years younger. My, would he be in trouble!'

Robyn stood completely still. She'd stopped breathing, and it had nothing to do with the tightness of her dress.

‘Good evening, Robyn,' Dan said as he approached her with a little bow.

Robyn bobbed him a curtsey. ‘I've always wanted to do that!' she said with a smile.

He smiled back at her and then took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

***

Warwick looked around the Great Hall not noticing the beauty of the room, noticing only the absence of a certain person. Where was she? This was awful. She could turn up at any moment, and he had to be ready to intercept her.

‘Warwick?'

‘Yes?' he said, turning to face Katherine.

‘You okay?'

‘I'm fine,' he said. ‘Fine.' He nodded. ‘I'm sorry. I'm not being very good company, am I?'

‘Well, you do seem a little preoccupied.'

He took a deep breath. ‘You look beautiful,' he said, noticing the way her white dress clung to and flowed over all the right places. ‘Really beautiful.' He leant forward and kissed her cheek.

‘Warwick! Everyone will see!'

‘Good! It's our last night here, and I don't want to have to pretend that you're not the most enchanting woman in the whole room and I'm totally besotted with you.' He watched as Katherine blushed. She really did that beautifully, like a heroine in one of his novels. ‘Come on,' he said. ‘Let's dance.' He held his hand out, and that's when he saw her. She was a wire-thin woman with short spiky red hair, and she was wearing a little black dress that didn't even bother nodding to the Regency period.

‘Nadia,' he said quietly.

‘What?' Katherine said. ‘You know that woman?'

‘No,' he said. ‘I mean, yes. Sort of.' He shook his head in confusion. ‘I've got to speak to her. Wait here. I'll be right back.'

‘Warwick!' Katherine shouted after him, but he was already pushing his way through the crowded dance floor, a frown deeply carved on his forehead.

‘Ah, Warwick!' Nadia shouted as she saw him approach. ‘How are you?' They air kissed, and he gasped as he smelt the alcohol on her breath. ‘Get me a drink, won't you, darling?'

He grabbed her arm and took her to one side. ‘What are you doing here?' he asked.

‘Whatever do you mean? I told you I was coming down.'

‘Yes, I know—to see Dame Pamela.'

‘And to come to the ball. I'm not going to miss all this, am I?'

He shook his head. ‘I don't think we should be here together.'

‘Why not? What's wrong with an agent spending some quality time with her author?'

‘Because I'm not an author here,' Warwick said through gritted teeth. ‘And we've got to decide who you are. You can't be my agent—I'm an antiquarian.'

‘Warwick, what on earth are you talking about?' she said. ‘Be a darling and get me drink. One of those nice bright cocktails over there,' she said, nodding towards a waitress holding a large tray of jewel-like drinks.

‘Don't you think you've had enough already?'

Nadia hiccupped. ‘Well, I may be a little merry, but I've only just started.'

Warwick shook his head.

‘Don't worry. I won't drive home tonight if you're worried about me. It's just been a long week, and I want to let my hair down a bit.'

‘But nobody knows who I am here. You do understand that, don't you?'

Nadia nodded, but she really didn't seem to be listening to him, and it was then that she saw Dame Pamela.

‘Ah! Do excuse me, Warwick, darling. There's dear Dame Pamela, and I've got this bloody script to off-load onto her.

‘Nadia!' Warwick called after her, but it was no use; she'd gone.

This was a nightmare, Warwick thought. An absolute nightmare.