A Weekend with Mr. Darcy (26 page)

You're giving us your notice?' Bill Cartwright asked Robyn.

‘That's right,' Robyn said with undisguised glee. ‘I'm leaving.'

‘But you've been here for…' He paused as he looked through her file.

‘Forever,' Robyn finished for him.

‘Yes,' he said. ‘Why leave now?'

‘I'm moving,' she said.

‘Leaving Skipton?'

‘Yes. I'm going to Hampshire.'

‘Hampshire?' Bill Cartwright said sounding the word out as if it were foreign. ‘What's in Hampshire?'

‘My new life,' Robyn said.

It had been easy to hand in her notice at work and easy to tell her landlord that she was leaving her cottage, but then things got harder. Robyn learnt to drive a long time before, but sold her car shortly afterwards as it was too much of a luxury on an administrator's salary, and she hadn't driven since. All of a sudden, she had to transport herself, all her worldly goods and her chickens down to Hampshire. It was going to take time so while working out her notice at the college, she took a refresher course in driving and bought herself a second-hand van in which she could fit her books, TV, and chickens. A trailer on the back would accommodate their coop.

‘Madness,' Judith, her neighbour told her. ‘Sheer madness! I didn't mind your finally making a break with that boyfriend of yours, but why you want to leave Yorkshire, I don't know. What can you get in Hampshire that you can't get here?'

Robyn smiled by way of an answer and Judith nodded. ‘Oh, I see! Well, I'll keep a lookout for my wedding invitation.'

Finally, after packing up two dozen boxes with her precious books, films, and crockery and persuading her chickens that they really did want to spend the next few hours in a crate in the back of a van, Robyn was ready to leave. Was this how the Dashwood sisters felt on leaving Norland, she wondered as she hopped into the van and took a last look at the little terraced cottage that had served her so well. How strange it was to be leaving, but the last few weeks of thinking and planning had proved one thing to her: she was ready.

As she left North Yorkshire and hit the motorway south of Bradford, she thought again how amazing it would be to actually live in Jane Austen's county. Robyn would be able to visit Chawton whenever she wanted and walk in the same fields and woods as Jane and her sister Cassandra. She could sit in the little church at Steventon, and she could visit Winchester, where Jane spent the final weeks of her life.

But Robyn was a long way from Hampshire at the moment and some strange noises were coming from the back of the van. Robyn pulled over at the next service station. There were a few dogs being walked on a grassy slope, but one couldn't very well do that with chickens, could one?

‘You okay, my darlings?' Robyn asked, looking at their thin faces and beady eyes and wondering what was going on in their feathered brains. Her rooster, Wickham, was looking particularly startled and Lady Catherine looked far from pleased but then again, she always looked like that. Robyn threw a bit of bright corn into the crate, but the best thing for all concerned, she decided, was to push on.

***

It was midafternoon by the time Robyn crossed the border into Hampshire. The late autumn sunshine was surprisingly warm, and she rolled the window down and breathed deeply. The trees had just started to turn colour but cottage gardens still blazed with flowers, joined by a few bright red berries. How Robyn was going to love seeing the changing seasons there! Maybe she could take Moby and Biscuit for long country walks and she and Dan could ride through the countryside together. She would become a marvellously confident horsewoman and bake scones and make jam like women in Hampshire probably did all the time. She'd introduce Dan to her beloved Jane Austen DVDs, and he wouldn't put his foot through the TV screen. It was going to be perfect.

As last she entered the village of Church Stinton and turned into the driveway that led to Purley Hall. How long ago it seemed since Jace had driven her up that very drive, yet it was only a few weeks before, and now here she was in her funny little van, hoping to make this place her home.

She parked the van and got out, stretching her arms towards the sky. Walking around to the back of the van, she opened the doors to let the chickens have a bit of fresh air and made sure they had fresh water.

‘Nearly there, my dears,' she said, listening to their funny little chickeny murmurs.

She knew she should let Dame Pamela know she'd arrived safely but the pull of the stable block was too much and she walked towards it with eager feet, a whole meadow full of butterflies rising in her stomach at the thought of seeing Dan again.

It felt good to be out of the van and walking, breathing in the autumn air, and it felt great to be back at Purley again, especially with the knowledge that she was there to stay this time. She wouldn't have to pack and leave as soon as the weekend was over.

The clock on the stable block tower was still reading quarter past two and probably always would. Robyn entered and inhaled the sweet aroma of hay and horse, but nobody was around. The stables were empty. There were no familiar heads hanging over the doors in the hope of having their noses scratched and no mad dogs came charging towards her in waggy greeting.

‘Hello?' Robyn called. ‘Anyone here?'

Perhaps Dan was indoors. It was late in the day, and maybe he was taking a shower before dinner.

She crossed the yard until she reached the door under the clock tower and knocked on it.

‘Dan?' she called, biting her lip. The butterflies had risen in her stomach again as she wondered if he'd truly be pleased to see her.

Of course he will! Don't be silly. He asked you to stay, remember
? she told herself.

Yes but that was weeks ago,
a little voice told her.
He might have changed his mind. You haven't been in touch, remember?

But I told him I needed some time to myself. He said he understood
, she thought, desperately trying to reassure herself.

Her anxieties were getting the better of her, and when she called again and there was no reply, she tried the door handle. It opened.

‘Dan?'

Silence greeted her, and there were no dogs belting towards her in greeting either. She climbed the stairs, thinking she could always make herself a cup of that chamomile tea and wait for him to return but when she reached the living room, she realised he wouldn't be coming back. The room was empty. The sofa had gone as had the dog baskets and the pictures on the walls and the cookbooks that had lined the little shelves above the sink.

She walked through to the back, opening a door that led into a tiny bedroom but that was empty too.

She was too late.

Robyn looked around the empty rooms once more as if she might have overlooked something. Had he gone back to London? There were no clues, no letter propped up against a mantelpiece, and no forwarding address left anywhere. Why hadn't Dame Pamela said something? Perhaps she thought Robyn wouldn't come to Purley if she knew Dan had left and didn't want to risk losing her new PA.

With legs that felt like lead, Robyn returned to her van. She'd never felt so hopeless, as if all the life had drained out of her. What was she going to do? She'd moved to Hampshire! She left her job and her home, and here she was in the middle of a strange county with just her chickens for company. Sitting on the floor at the back of the van, legs dangling, she wondered if she should just get back in and drive home.

‘But I've not got a home,' she told herself.

There was only one thing to do: she
had
to make this work. She still had her new job as a PA, and Dame Pamela had promised her a little cottage on the estate where there was ample room for her chickens. She had to make the best of things, and maybe—just maybe—she'd see Dan again when he visited his sister and they would work things out.

‘Miss Love?' a voice broke into her thoughts. It was Higgins, and Robyn smiled when she saw him. He was wearing a russet waistcoat as if in recognition of autumn.

‘Hello, Higgins,' she said, jumping out of the van and shaking his hand.

‘Good evening, Miss Love. I hope you had a pleasant journey.'

‘Very pleasant, thank you.'

‘Good. Can I get you some tea? I'm afraid Dame Pamela's been called away from home and can't be here to welcome you, but she wanted me to make sure you had something to eat before you unpack.'

‘Oh, that's very kind, but I think I'd better get myself sorted out. My chickens—'

Higgins looked into the back of the van. ‘Of course,' he said. ‘I'll get your key but you must come up to the house later and have some supper.'

He disappeared for a moment, returning with a bright silver key. ‘Horseshoe Cottage,' he said. ‘You turn left out of the driveway and follow the road through the village until you come to the church. There's a track to the left. Turn there and drive over the cattle grid. Horseshoe Cottage is the house on the right.'

‘Thank you,' Robyn said.

‘If there's anything you need, give us a call.'

Robyn nodded and smiled, but the smile faded as soon as she got back in her van. She suddenly felt very tired, and the excitement of coming to Purley had melted away. She took a deep breath and manoeuvred her van and trailer with the skill of someone who'd been doing it much longer than she actually had, careful not to knock into the stone balustrades or reverse onto the immaculate lawn.

Turning out of the driveway, Robyn drove slowly through the village, passing a row of thatched cottages. She saw the ancient stone church, its spire shooting into the evening sky, and then she spotted the track and slowed down to turn into it. It really was a track rather than a road and was likely to get very muddy during the winter months. Robyn was glad she'd bought a good, practical van, and she made a mental note to buy a new pair of Wellingtons too.

As she rounded a corner, she saw a tiled roof peeping over a large beech hedge. Horseshoe Cottage. It was built in the same rosy red brick as Purley Hall but of course it wasn't on as grand a scale. There was a sweet little porch, and three big sash windows promised the cottage would be light inside.

The first thing Robyn did once she stepped out of the van was to open a little gate that led to the back garden. It was a beautiful space overlooking fields between the cottage and the village. She quickly got to work setting up her chicken coop in a suitable spot and once it was ready, she was finally able to release her darling birds. With great trepidation, the six of them left their crate, necks straining as they ventured outside. Lydia was the first to brave the new surroundings, but the others followed and were soon pecking around at the corn Robyn fed them.

Fishing the front door key out of her pocket, she returned to the cottage and had just entered the porch when she heard the sound of a car coming up the driveway. It was a Land Rover, and the distinct sound of barking came from its open windows.

Robyn watched as the vehicle pulled up and a tall figure emerged.

‘Dan!' she cried, rushing towards him and flinging herself at him before she could think of a more respectable, heroine-like way to behave.

‘Robyn!' he cried in response, taking her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. When they finally broke apart, Robyn looked up at him, surprise and adoration in her eyes. The sun had deepened his tanned face and arms, and his eyes shone even brighter than ever.

‘I thought you'd gone back to London,' she said.

‘London? Why did you think that?'

‘You weren't in your flat below the clock tower. I didn't know what to think.'

‘I was here, getting the cottage ready.'

‘You're living here?' she asked, her eyes wide.

‘I'm not being too presumptuous, am I?' He suddenly looked very shy. ‘I mean, I can move back to the stables if you prefer. It's just… well… Pammy's not very good at keeping secrets. As soon as you rang her to take the job, she came to tell me, and I thought… well… I wanted to be with you. You don't mind, do you? I haven't overstepped the mark?'

Robyn placed her hands in his and smiled up at him. ‘I thought I'd lost you,' she said. ‘I thought I'd be living here on my own with just my chickens for company.'

‘I could hardly bear it when you left Purley,' Dan said. ‘It was the worst few weeks of my life not knowing if you were coming back.'

‘Did you really think I wouldn't?' she asked.

He squeezed her hands and shook his head. ‘I knew we were meant to be together. I knew it from the first time I saw you. You
had
to come back.' He bent down to kiss her once again. ‘I love you, Robyn Love!' he said.

‘And I love you,' she said.

‘Do you want to see your new home, then?'

She nodded and watched as Dan walked back to the car and opened the tailgate. Moby and Biscuit leapt out, jumping around Robyn's legs and barking madly.

‘I hope they won't mind the chickens,' Robyn said above the noise.

‘They'll be fine,' Dan told her. ‘Come on.' He took her hand and they giggled as they both produced front door keys.

‘You first,' he said.

‘No, you.'

He grinned and opened the door for her but then he stopped, blocking her way. ‘There's just one thing I want to ask you,' Dan said.

‘What's that?' Robyn asked, suddenly anxious.

‘Would you be here right now if I hadn't read
Pride and Prejudice
?'

Robyn hesitated. It was a strange thing to ask her but judging by his expression, he wanted an answer. She swallowed. Would she be here right now if he hadn't read
Pride and Prejudice
?

She smiled. ‘But you
did
read it,' she said.

Dan smiled back at her. ‘You're right,' he said. ‘I did! And do you know what? I think it would make a great film.'

‘It
is
a film. It's several films
and
a brilliant TV adaptation.'

‘Is it?' he asked.

Robyn nodded.

‘I don't suppose you've got it on DVD?'

Robyn laughed. ‘If you help me unpack, we might just be able to find one or two.'