Read A Weekend with Mr. Darcy Online

Authors: Victoria Connelly

A Weekend with Mr. Darcy (9 page)

BOOK: A Weekend with Mr. Darcy
10.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
Chapter 15

Katherine barely heard a single word of the next talk. A little old lady with a shrill voice was talking about dating and courtship in Jane Austen's time and making it seem the dullest subject on the face of the earth, but maybe Katherine was being unfair and not giving her a chance. Maybe even if this had been the Undressing Mr Darcy session she wouldn't have been able to pay attention because her mind was elsewhere.

She was sitting next to Warwick and, as if that wasn't enough of a distraction, she kept thinking about their conversation. How easy it had been to talk to him, she thought. It was a terrible cliché, but she couldn't help feeling that she'd known him for far longer than the couple of days they'd spent at Purley together, and yet their first few encounters hadn't been auspicious.

Like Elizabeth and Darcy, she thought. How quick we are to make a judgement about somebody, and how very wrong we can be, she thought, casting a quick sideways glance at Warwick. He caught her eye and smiled and she smiled back. He had a very nice face and his smile was the kind that could easily get a girl into trouble. His voice was nice too. It was deep and velvety and she could just imagine him reading to her and how easy it would be to lie back and let the words wash over her. His hair was so cute too—it was very dark and slightly wavy which gave it a tousled look that made her want to run her fingers through it.

As the little old lady shrilled on about the importance of dancing for meeting a prospective partner, Katherine mused on the unexpected situation she found herself in. Honestly, she hadn't meant to be flirting with the opposite sex this weekend, especially not with somebody called Warwick. All the Jane Austen warnings were there: he was tall, dark, handsome, and charming. He'd casually mentioned his Jaguar was parked outside which meant that he was also rich and—the very clearest warning of them all—his name begin with
W
and, as any Austen fan will tell you, that
always
means trouble.

Wickham, Willoughby, and Warwick,
Katherine thought.
Wicked Warwick
, she added, but then smiled. The only wicked thing about him seemed to be his grin. And where was the harm in flirting, anyway? Jane Austen had been a huge fan of flirting, and it wasn't as if she was planning on anything coming of it anyway. A bit of flirting might be just what she needed. Flirting was fun, and she hadn't had any fun for what seemed like an age.

But I shall not fall in love again
, she told herself.
Not this weekend. Not so easily. No matter how sexy his voice or how strong his arms look, I shall not fall in love!

Katherine was adamant. Although this weekend was partly work for her, it was also pleasure and as long as she took care not to take things beyond a little flirting, what possible harm could there be?

***

Towards the back of the room, Robyn was also finding it hard to concentrate. The shrill-voiced woman was having a go at
Sense and Sensibility
's Marianne Dashwood for her immodest behaviour, to which Robyn took exception. She'd always felt that Marianne took so much flak for behaviour that today would be seen as positively shy and retiring. She had only been a young romantic girl who had fallen in love. Was there anything wrong with that?

For some strange reason, the handsome man on horseback flashed into her mind at that moment.

Dan Harcourt.

That was a good name, wasn't it, she thought.

With his floppy coppery hair and his smiling eyes, he'd quite taken her breath away. Plus there'd been the horses and the dogs. Any man who loved animals got a big tick by his name as far as Robyn was concerned. Perhaps that was one of the reasons Jace had lost favour over the years. He never went near her chickens and was forever making fun of them. What was it he called her birds—her scrawny-necked Sunday lunches? It wasn't the way to win her over at all.

Looking through the rows of heads in front of her, Robyn saw Katherine sitting next to the dark-haired gentlemen. Boy, he was persistent, wasn't he? Had he forced his presence upon Katherine yet again or had something changed and were they now friends? She watched them for a moment and saw them turn to each other and smile. Okay, things had definitely changed.

Perhaps Purley was weaving its magic upon them. Or was it the Jane Austen effect? The world always seemed much rosier when Jane's presence was felt.

***

‘Well,' Warwick said, getting up and clapping his hands together, ‘that was another riveting talk. Perhaps she's a relative of our friend the reverend.'

‘Shush! She'll hear you,' Katherine said, a little of the lecturer coming through in her rebuke.

The two of them left the room together.

‘She had a voice like a tin whistle,' Warwick said.

Katherine tutted him but couldn't help giggling too. ‘Where do they get these speakers from?'

‘At least it bodes well for you. I mean, unless you're as bad as that.'

Katherine's mouth dropped in mock consternation, her hands resting on her hips.

‘Only joking!' he said, and she hit him playfully on his arm.

***

Lunch in the dining room was an elegant but understated affair with a buffet table heaving with bowls of pasta and salad and large plates of ham, jacket potatoes, quiche, and a fine selection of bread and cheese. There were jugs of iced water and cordial on the tables and blackberry tarts for dessert. Dame Pamela—who was forever buying beautiful dinner services—had chosen one in a warm terracotta colour, and everything had the glow of autumn about it.

Katherine and Warwick stood in line together, cutting slices of quiche and fat rings of baguette for each other, swapping smiles and little giggles as they walked the length of the buffet.

Sitting down at the table, they tucked into their food and for a few minutes their minds wandered in differing directions. Katherine glanced up and down the table. It was nothing short of amazing that an author who had been dead for almost two hundred years was the sole reason for all these people gathered there. Wasn't it incredible that these people and many millions more around the world were still reading Austen stories and were inspired enough by them to sign up for a weekend such as this? That one simple provincial woman had reached out and touched so many was nothing short of miraculous.

But it was about more than the books now. They'd taken on quite another dimension, hadn't they? They were far more than just words on a page; they were whole worlds that ardent fans populated in their day-to-day lives. The characters were their friends. Readers could imagine exchanging witty barbs with Elizabeth Bennet, sharing book recommendations with Catherine Morland, and flirting with any one of the handsome heroes. That was the thing about Jane Austen's books—they felt intimate, like a cozy chat with a best friend. Readers always felt exceptionally close to the characters as if they were extensions of the readers themselves or at the very least family members.

Glancing at some of the people sitting at the table, Katherine wondered what lives they led and what role Jane Austen played in them. Perhaps she'd get a chance to find out in one of the sessions that afternoon, an informal discussion in which people could talk about their favourite book.

Katherine thought about the first time she discovered Austen. She was lucky. She hadn't been force-fed it at school by some work-worn teacher who made pupils read passages in class, listening to them as they stumbled over the prose, making no sense and taking no joy from it. No, Katherine had watched the old black-and-white film version with Laurence Olivier and Greer Garson. She completely fell in love with it, even though the costumes had been more
Gone with the Wind
than
Pride and Prejudice
. The next time she was in her local library, she sought it out, devouring it eagerly before buying the first of many copies that would accompany her through the daily grind of life.

The other novels had quickly followed but nothing could ever compare to that first book. It was the sweetest of reads, and no matter how many books were still out there to be discovered, Katherine felt that nothing would ever come as close to stirring her imagination again. Other than the Lorna Warwick books, of course.

‘I've been thinking,' Warwick said, interrupting Katherine's thoughts. ‘Your name is rather Austensian, isn't it? Was your mother a fan too?'

Katherine nodded. ‘She was indeed. She always adored Catherine Morland from
Northanger Abbey
, but I'm afraid she got the spelling wrong so mine's with a
K
rather than a
C
. Can you believe that? Out of all the wonderful Austen characters, my mother named me after the daydreamer because she thought the names Jane, Emma, and Anne were too plain. And Fanny was a nonstarter, and I'm not sure she could spell Elizabeth.'

‘It's a lovely name,' he told her.

She smiled. ‘Just so long as you don't call me Kitty Cat.'

‘Ooooo!' Warwick said, sucking in his teeth. ‘I'm not going to ask who called you that in the past.'

‘Good,' she said.

‘Names can be tricky, can't they?'

‘They certainly can,' she said, taking a sip of water. ‘Yours is very unusual. How did you come to be called Warwick?' Katherine watched as he too took a slow sip of cordial as if delaying his answer.

‘I have no idea,' he said at last. ‘I guess my mother just liked the sound of it.'

‘It's a good sound,' Katherine said. ‘It sounds like a hero's name.'

‘Like an Austen hero?'

‘Perhaps,' Katherine said. ‘Elizabeth and Warwick,' she said. ‘It has potential, certainly.'

He grinned. ‘I'm glad you think so.'

Katherine finished the last of her quiche. ‘Have you heard of the Republic of Pemberley?' she said.

‘That's a website, isn't it?'

She nodded. ‘It's the home on the Web for rather a lot of Janeites. It's an amazing place, and you can find out all sorts of information there. We could easily put your name up for discussion. Which novel would Warwick—er…'

‘Lawton.'

‘Which novel would Warwick Lawton most easily fit into? And would he be a colonel, a captain, or a sir? That could make for hours of happy discussion.'

‘And this is somewhere you frequent?'

‘Well sometimes,' Katherine said. ‘Usually when I'm in my office at college and I'm meant to be marking essays, I have been known to be chattering away on the discussion boards.'

‘But nothing beats the real thing, does it? Nothing beats conversation.'

‘No,' Katherine said. ‘That's why these weekends are so amazing. I can try talking to my students about Jane Austen but half of them will be busy scribbling down everything I'm saying and won't have anything interesting to say themselves and the other half will be asleep.'

‘A good listener is hard to find.'

‘Yes,' Katherine said, and her eyes met Warwick's.

‘And I'm a good listener,' he said. ‘You can tell me anything.'

Katherine watched as a very cute smile lit up his whole face. She was beginning to believe that she could, indeed, tell him anything, and it was a very nice feeling. How often in this world could you find someone you could trust?

Chapter 16

Robyn had tossed and turned in her bed the night before and had spent the whole morning umming and ahhing about the next session at the conference.

Join us for an informal discussion about the works of your favourite author. Don't forget to bring a book!

That invitation sounded far too much like school to Robyn. Reading, for her, was a very private experience and although she was enjoying talking to people at the conference about her favourite books, the thought of addressing a big group seemed terrifying. Everybody would be looking at her, and she was sure to blush and get all tongue-tied. No, she would definitely have to give it a miss which was a shame as she'd have liked to have heard other people talk about their favourite scenes and characters but perhaps she could catch up with the gossip later with Katherine, if she wasn't in a corner being monopolised by the dark-haired gentleman.

Perhaps she could take her book out into the gardens and find a quiet seat somewhere and enjoy some choice scenes from
Pride and Prejudice
on her own. They'd been told that the gardens of Purley were at their disposal, and it would be a shame not to make the most of them, Robyn thought. She smiled to herself. There could be few things so lovely as reading Jane Austen in a beautiful English country garden.

Her silver sandals crunched across the gravel driveway as she walked around the side of the house, under the great cedar tree. How blissful it was to have the gardens to explore. As much as she adored her own patch of chicken-filled garden at the back of her Yorkshire cottage, it couldn't compare to this. For a moment she thought of Jane Austen's letter written from her brother Edward's country house. She'd written about the pleasure in having so much space ‘all to myself.' That's how Robyn felt now, except it seemed that she didn't quite have it all to herself.

As she saw a brilliant blue of a swimming pool, she was aware that there was somebody in it, splashing happily in the sunshine. It was in a secluded corner of the garden, and Robyn couldn't resist taking a quick peek, walking along a path that cut through a thick green hedge.

Her heart almost stopped. She hadn't quite known what to expect. A couple of children, perhaps—nieces of Dame Pamela's on their holiday—or one of the conference attendees who liked the idea of a swim more than the discussion group. But it wasn't children and it wasn't anyone from the conference either. It was Dan Harcourt, the handsome man on horseback, except he wasn't on horseback, and he was no longer wearing a shirt or jeans.

For a moment Robyn didn't move but watched, spellbound, as Dan swam the short length of the pool, moving with the grace of a dolphin and turning perfectly as he reached the end of each length. Up and down he went, oblivious to the world around him and Robyn standing watching him.

Finally he surfaced, his tousled head breaking the water and his bright eyes sparkling from the exercise.

‘Robyn?'

‘Hello,' she said, smiling shyly.

‘Chuck me that towel,' he said.

‘What?' Robyn asked.

He smiled. ‘My towel. It's behind you.'

‘Oh!' Robyn said, seeing the large cream towel on the white bench behind her. She put her copy of
Pride and Prejudice
down. It was obvious that she wasn't going to get any reading done, and she didn't want it to get wet. Grabbing the towel, she turned back to the pool where Dan was emerging, heaving himself out with astonishing speed.

Robyn swallowed hard. She didn't know where to look or rather she did, except she didn't think it was what she should be doing. This was more graphic than Darcy after his dip in the lake at Pemberley or Edward Ferrars chopping wood in the rain, for Dan Harcourt was completely shirtless, and he wasn't wearing breeches either.

His body was tanned and toned and glistened with water droplets. It was the most beautiful body Robyn had ever seen and nothing like the pale white one of Jace's which was slightly flabby around the edges. This body was that of someone who kept himself in shape although not by spending hours at a gym, contorting his muscles into unnatural bulges. This body reminded Robyn of the glorious chestnut stallion he'd been riding the day she saw him at Steventon Church. It had a natural elegance and strength that didn't looked forced but was totally compelling.

I'm staring
, she thought.
I mustn't stare! But where else can I look?

‘This is my luxury,' Dan said as he rubbed the massive towel over himself. ‘Pammy hardly uses the pool which is such a waste. I virtually have it to myself, and it's brilliant on warm days like this.'

‘Yes, I bet it's nice after all your hot work in the stables. You must get very—erm—hot,' she said, biting her tongue and trying not to think of Dan doing hot, sweaty work in the stables.

‘Have you come for a swim yourself?' he asked.

‘Oh, no. I came out to read,' she said, turning and nodding to the white seat on which lay her beloved copy of
Pride and Prejudice
.

Dan clocked it. ‘It's a truth universally acknowledged, eh?'

‘You've read it?'

‘No more than that opening sentence, I'm afraid, but I've seen my sister's adaptation.'

‘She's the very best Lady Catherine I've ever seen,' Robyn said.

‘Is she?'

Robyn nodded and watched as Dan slung the towel over his left shoulder. Blushing, she looked away. ‘I should—I should really be—'

‘Oh,' Dan said, seeming to sense her embarrassment. ‘Don't let me disturb you. I was just going.'

‘You're not disturbing me. It was me who disturbed you, I think. I can find somewhere else.' She walked to the seat and picked up her book. The grounds of Purley were quite extensive enough that she wouldn't need to be tripping over Dan all the time.

‘Robyn?'

She turned around and almost crashed into him. ‘Oh!' she said. She'd thought he was still standing by the pool.

‘Stay and talk to me. I don't often get to talk to anyone. Moby and Biscuit aren't great conversationalists, and the horses never have much to say.'

Robyn smiled. ‘I… erm—'

‘Would it make you feel more comfortable if I got changed?' he said. ‘I've got my things over there.' He nodded towards a small tile-roofed building behind the pool that had two white columns covered in roses. ‘There's a shower in there. I won't be long.'

She watched as he walked away and then she sat down on the pretty white seat.

What are you doing? You should be inside discussing the finer points of fiction, not skiving in the garden eyeing up the stablehand.

Robyn opened her book and flipped through the pages to her favourite scene: the bungled first proposal of Darcy. Concentrate, she told herself, and stop thinking about Dan. She loved this scene. She loved how Darcy managed to say absolutely everything he shouldn't and yet feel such conviction that he must be honest with Elizabeth. How very much they hurt each other! Their words were used like weapons, and as amusing as it was to the reader, it was heart-wrenching too but there was more to it than that. It could truly be enjoyed only on a second read because you knew that these two individuals would battle the odds and see their mistakes and get their happy ever after together. A first read always had the wince factor and made the reader think,
Don't say that!
Darcy voicing his feelings about Elizabeth's inferiority and how it would degrade him to marry her, and Elizabeth's declaration that he was ‘the last man in the world' that she could marry.

The moment that always caught Robyn with its emotion was Darcy's
‘You have said quite enough, madam. I perfectly comprehend your feelings, and have now only to be ashamed of what my own have been. Forgive me for having taken up so much of your time, and accept my best wishes for your health and happiness.'

Perhaps that's what made
Pride and Prejudice
so popular; because its hero and heroine go through so much. They suffer and they learn about themselves and about each other. They're not perfect but they're identifiably human, and they can find perfection through being with each other.

Robyn mused on these thoughts, her eyes no longer on the page but staring out across the lawn that stretched down to the lake.

‘Okay?' a voice said.

Robyn jumped. It was Dan, now dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a dark grey T-shirt, his towel scrunched up in a ball by his side. ‘Hi,' she said.

‘May I?' he asked, nodding to the bench. She nodded, and he sat down, taking the book from her. ‘Mind if I have a look?'

‘No. Be my guest.'

Dan flipped through to the opening chapter and read the three short pages. Robyn watched him, wondering what he was making of them. It was generally true that Jane Austen was a girls' thing but there were a number of men at the conference so she obviously had her male fans.

Just not Jace, she thought. He'd never be a fan. Robyn remembered the number of times she tried to get him to read a book by Austen. There was that time when he said, ‘Okay, okay, just leave it on the coffee table.' The trouble was, he'd left it on the coffee table too. It was the same with the films. She'd casually leave one running when Jace was due to call. He'd come in, glare at the TV in distaste, mumble something about ‘those infernal dance scenes,' and switch to the nearest sports channel.

What would Dan make of the phenomenon that was Jane Austen? Robyn twiddled with a length of curly hair as she awaited his verdict.

Finally, he looked up from the book and laughed. ‘I like this Mr Bennet character,' he said. ‘I think he has a hard time of things. I like this bit. “I have a high respect for your nerves. They are my old friends. I have heard you mention them with consideration these twenty years at least.”'

‘Yes,' Robyn said. ‘Dear Mr Bennet. He has so much to put up with.'

‘I like it,' Dan said. ‘I'd like to read more.'

‘Really?'

‘You sound surprised.'

‘I am surprised,' Robyn said.

‘Why because I'm a man?'

‘Yes, absolutely!'

Dan laughed. ‘You think we all hate books?'

‘No—not that—just Jane Austen.'

‘But this is really funny. I like funny things. Life can be too serious sometimes, can't it?'

Robyn nodded. ‘Jane Austen is the cure for most things in life, I find.'

‘Can I borrow it?'

Robyn's eyes widened. Her book? Her special copy of
Pride and Prejudice
. Well, one of them.

‘Sorry,' he said, handing the book back to her. ‘I'll get my own copy.'

‘Oh, no!' Robyn said, suddenly realising how mean she must have seemed to him. ‘Please—borrow it.'

‘You sure?' he asked.

She smiled and pushed the book firmly towards him. She'd suddenly realised that if he borrowed the book, she'd have a very good excuse to talk to him again.

‘Thanks,' he said. ‘This will be a real treat. I don't read much fiction but I promised myself I would when I left my old job. In London, it was always the boring old trade magazines and newspapers that took up my time and I never got a chance to read a novel but I'm a quick reader so I'll get it back to you as soon as I can.'

‘Oh, there's no rush,' she said.

‘But you leave on Monday,' he pointed out.

Robyn sighed. ‘Oh, yes,' she said.

‘Purley weaving its spell over you?'

‘I think it is,' she said, and her gaze locked with his. His eyes were a wonderful golden brown and danced with light and life.

‘I felt the same way when I used to visit. It got harder and harder to leave, and so I just didn't bother.'

‘You're lucky,' Robyn said. ‘I wish I could stay.'

He smiled at her. ‘Me too,' he said. ‘I mean about you—staying.' He laughed.

Robyn liked his laugh. It was a big happy sound that was totally natural.

‘Is this what all women want, then?' he asked.

‘What?'

Dan held up the book.

‘Romances?' Robyn asked.

‘No,' he said, turning to page two again. ‘“A single man of large fortune.”'

‘Ah, you've found us out.' She giggled. ‘It's what Mrs Bennet wanted for her daughters. You'll have to read more to find out why.'

‘And today? What do women want today?'

Robyn looked at him. ‘I don't think you'll find the answer to that question in a book.'

‘But what do you want, Robyn?'

Robyn swallowed and wondered why he was so interested in her. Not that she minded. She liked it. Jace never asked her any questions like that. The only sort of questions he asked were, ‘What's for tea?' or ‘Have you got any ketchup?'

‘What do I want?' she said. ‘Well, I'd like a job that I love in a place that I love.'

‘And you don't have that at the moment?'

Robyn shook her head. ‘My job's just something I get through.'

‘And what about your—er—friend?'

‘Jace?' Robyn took a deep breath. ‘I don't know what he wants but I don't think we want the same things. Not anymore.'

‘He doesn't understand Austen?' Dan said, a little twinkle in his eyes.

‘No,' Robyn said. ‘But worse—he doesn't understand me.'

They fell silent for a moment. Robyn looked out towards the lake and watched as a pair of white swans descended from the sky, their great wings booming. They made a wonderful skidding splash together and then folded their wings up to form the most perfect of shapes.

Suddenly Robyn was aware that Dan was staring at her.

‘What?' she asked in a whisper-soft voice.

‘How can he not understand you?'

Robyn looked at him for a moment and then turned away, not knowing what to say to him.

BOOK: A Weekend with Mr. Darcy
10.51Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Playing with Fire by Mia Dymond
Summer's Temptation by Ashley Lynn Willis
The Alchemist's Secret by Mariani, Scott
The Untold by Rory Michaels
StarFight 1: Battlestar by T. Jackson King
The Ten Year Affair by Collins, Hope Raye
Alley Urchin by Josephine Cox
Soldier's Redemption by Sharpe, Alice