Christmas With Mr Darcy (4 page)

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he began, ‘Dame Pamela Harcourt.’

As ever, Dame Pamela entered the room like an empress and was greeted by much applause. She was wearing a pale gold dress draped with a crimson shawl and her hair was swept up and pinned with an enormous diamond clip. She was famous for her diamonds and there were gasps from the audience as she walked to the front of the room, her eyelashes batting as she drank in the adoration of her guests. Nobody would have guessed that, just ten minutes before, she’d been having a nervous breakdown in the privacy of her study. “The show must go on” was a phrase that every actress knew and Dame Pamela had lived her life by it.

She took a deep breath and began. ‘I can’t tell you what a delight it is to welcome you all here for our special Christmas conference! We’ve been discussing having one for some time now and I think it’s particularly appropriate as it’s also the month of Jane Austen’s birthday.’

There was a cheer and Dame Pamela clutched a hand to her heart and her eyes rose towards heaven as if communing with the great author herself.

‘So this conference is going to be
extra
special as we celebrate our favourite author’s birthday. There will be the usual talks and readings and film showings, and we have some very special guests lined up for you. And, because this is Christmas, there will be plenty of food and drink but we will also have lots of dancing too so that our waistlines don’t suffer
too
much!’

There was another round of applause and then Higgins got to work with the silver tray, distributing glasses of the cocktail which Dame Pamela had named the
Fitzwilliam Fizzer
. There was also a non-alcoholic alternative that Dame Pamela called a
Pink Bingley
but it wasn’t proving quite as popular as the
Fitzwilliam Fizzer
but it got everybody talking about cocktails.

‘I think a
Wicked Wickham
would slip down rather nicely,’ Roberta told her sister Rose who had the good grace to blush at such a suggestion.

‘What about a
Tickling Tilney
?’ Doris Norris suggested.

‘Or a
Wentworth
Wallbanger
,
’
Roberta said.

Mrs Soames, who was in earshot, tutted loudly and sipped at her
Pink Bingley
without joining in with the chatter.

After circulating amongst her guests, Dame Pamela walked over to the window and looked out over the snow-covered garden to the fields beyond. She was thankful that her guests had had problem-free journeys and that everybody had arrived safely but there were two guests who hadn’t arrived yet – the actress, Gemma Reilly, and the uninvited brother, Benedict Harcourt.

‘Madam,’ Higgins said, appearing by her side, ‘I’ve just had a call from Master Benedict.’

‘
Please
tell me he’s been snowed in and can’t possibly make it,’ Dame Pamela said, knowing it was deeply uncharitable but quite unable to stop herself.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Higgins said. ‘He just wanted to let you know that he’ll be here in time for dinner.’

Dame Pamela sighed. ‘He always did have an uncanny ability to arrive at precisely the wrong moment.’

But Benedict Harcourt didn’t arrive in time for dinner and the guests enjoyed a carefree and very splendid meal by candlelight before the first evening’s activities got under way. There was a showing of
Miss Austen Regrets
in the drawing room whilst Regency parlour games were on offer in the library.

Kay and Adam had chosen the parlour games but Adam had missed his cue at a game of cards twice now and Kay looked concerned as he checked his phone again.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

‘It’s Gemma – she’s stuck somewhere outside London. I don’t think she’s going to make it tonight.’

‘Oh, dear,’ Kay said. ‘Perhaps the roads will be better in the morning.’

Adam sighed. ‘But our talk’s at eleven o’clock.’

‘She’ll be here,’ Kay said, reaching across the round table to squeeze his hand.

‘I won’t be able to do it without her,’ he said, blinking hard behind his glasses.

‘You’ll be fine,’ she told him but she knew that he’d rather walk naked through the snow than give a talk on his own in front of a room full of people.

Adam Craig was the sweetest man Kay had ever met but his crippling shyness had almost stopped them from getting together and Kay had actually believed him to be in love with Gemma the actress. When he’d walked into her bed and breakfast in Lyme Regis during the filming of
Persuasion
, she hadn’t really noticed him at all because she’d had a big crush on the actor Oli Wade Owen. Well, what Janeite
wouldn’t
fall in love with a handsome actor playing Captain Wentworth?

But sweet, kind Adam had been there for her when it had all gone wrong and she couldn’t envisage them ever being apart now.

‘Gemma will make it,’ Kay told him again. ‘She’s a very determined woman.’

Adam nodded and took a deep breath. ‘Okay.’

‘And, if she doesn’t make it,
I’ll
do the talk with you.’

‘Really?’ Adam said, his eyes lighting up.

‘You’re forgetting that I lived through the whole film experience too,’ she said.

He smiled at her. ‘I could never forget that,’ he said, leaning forward and kissing her.

They then proceeded to slay each other at piquet.

Later that night, after all the food had been eaten, all the drinks had been quaffed and all the card games played out, the guests at Purley Hall lay sleeping in their beds, unaware that the snow was falling thick and fast, smothering the landscape under a glistening white blanket.

In a pink and white bedroom at the back of Purley Hall, Dame Pamela was just dreaming about an actor she’d dated in her twenties called Piers Dalrymple when there was a faint tapping on the door.

‘Madam?’

Dame Pamela groaned as she slowly began to wake up, leaving the arms of Piers Dalrymple and switching on her bedside lamp. It flooded the room with soft amber light.

‘Higgins? Is that you?’

The door opened and Higgins stood there in his long paisley dressing gown. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, madam, but I think Master Benedict has arrived.’

Dame Pamela sat up in bed and yawned. Her hair was full of large curlers and her face was flushed with sleep.

‘What time is it?’

‘A little after three,’ Higgins said.

‘Oh, why couldn’t he have arrived at a more civil sort of hour?’ Dame Pamela said, swinging her legs out of bed. Higgins handed her the pink robe with the feather collar and she wrapped herself up in it, placing her feet a pair of cerise slippers which sparkled with sequins.

‘I think, perhaps, that the snow impeded his journey,’ Higgins said.

‘Oh, I suppose so.’

‘It’s falling quite thickly now.’

Dame Pamela walked across to the window and peered out through the curtains and a swirl of snowflakes greeted her.

‘We’re going to be snowed in at this rate,’ she said. ‘I’m glad we bought all the food and drink we did.’

The two of them left the bedroom and walked along the corridor before heading down the staircase to the front door just as there was a loud rapping on it.

‘Quick! Before he wakes up the entire house!’ Dame Pamela whispered.

Higgins unlocked the great door and there, standing under the light of the porch lamp, was Benedict Harcourt, his round face red with cold.

He strode into the hallway and stamped his boots on the beautiful floor, leaving little piles of melted snow everywhere. Dame Pamela tried not to grimace and Higgins made a mental note to grab a mop at the earliest convenience.

‘So good to see you, Pamsy!’ Benedict said, dropping two suitcases down before stepping forward and squashing his sister in a hug. His coat was thick and wet with snow and instantly flattened Dame Pamela’s feathery neckline.

‘Benedict!’ she cried. ‘What a –
surprise!
’

‘Ah! You know me – could never resist a surprise.’

‘Indeed,’ Dame Pamela said.

‘And Christmas is the time for surprises!’ he said, removing his woolly hat and shaking his hair. Droplets of snow sprayed outwards catching both Dame Pamela and Higgins.

Higgins was just about to lock the door when a slender figure appeared around it.

‘Hello?’ she said, her eyes blinking in the sudden brightness of the hallway light.

‘Gemma?’ Dame Pamela said, stepping forward.

Gemma removed her stripy hat and Dame Pamela hugged her, impervious now as to how bedraggled her feathers had become.

‘Ah!’ Benedict cried. ‘This is the lovely lady who came to my rescue. My car broke down about five miles away and there was nobody about but then this dear soul turns up and blow me down if she wasn’t heading for Purley!’

‘I came in my four by four and it’s a good job I did,’ Gemma told Dame Pamela. ‘Some of the roads are pretty much blocked now and we had to leave the car at the end of the driveway. I hope that’s all right?’

‘Oh, don’t worry about that – come and get warm, for goodness’ sake. Higgins – see if you can get the fire going again in the drawing room.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘And some drinks.’

‘Good idea, Pamsy! A whiskey – that marvellous single malt you have - would go down a treat.’

‘I was thinking more of a hot chocolate,’ Dame Pamela said.

Benedict’s face filled with disappointment as he followed his sister into the drawing room and they sat down as Higgins got the fire going, his bare knees protruding from out of his dressing gown.

‘I’m so thrilled you made it, Gemma,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘We were getting worried about you, weren’t we, Higgins?’

‘Yes, Madam.’

‘All this snow! You
are
a brave soul!’

‘I didn’t want to miss this,’ Gemma said, unwinding her scarf from her neck as the fire got going. ‘I’ve heard so much about your gatherings and I’ve really been looking forward to it.’

‘But I
must
take you to task first,’ Dame Pamela said, tightening up a curler which had worked its way loose.

‘Oh?’

‘You’re not acting anymore, are you?’

Gemma shook her head. ‘No,’ she said.

‘After the performance you gave as Anne Elliot, I have to say that it’s positively a crime!’ Dame Pamela shook her head in disapproval.

Gemma gave a little smile. ‘I guess acting just wasn’t for me,’ she said. ‘I used to get so nervous.’

‘But we
all
get nervous,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘That’s what drives a great performance. It’s when you start to relax that it all goes horribly wrong.’

‘Yes but I was nervous all the time even when I wasn’t performing. I’d get nervous just thinking about the next job and what I might have to do and what would happen if it all went wrong. I’d have nightmares and get myself so worked up that I couldn’t think about anything else.’

‘Oh, dear!’ Dame Pamela said.

‘I never get nervous,’ Benedict chipped in, taking a hot chocolate from the silver tray that Higgins had brought into the room.

‘No,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘You’re always filled with total confidence that things will go your way.’

‘I am indeed, Pamsy,’ he said. ‘Any chance of a splosh of brandy in this?’

Higgins glanced at Dame Pamela and she nodded in consent.

‘Anyway, I’m much happier doing what I’m doing now,’ Gemma said.

‘Yes, how is the shop?’ Dame Pamela asked, remembering that Gemma’s handmade knitted clothes for children had become instant bestsellers as soon as they’d gone on sale.

‘It’s doing really well,’ Gemma said.

‘In Marylebone High Street, isn’t it?’

Gemma nodded. ‘We’re hoping to open another one in Wimbledon soon.’

‘There’s a chap in Wimbledon that owes me money,’ Benedict said.

Dame Pamela’s eyes widened. ‘I expect a lot of people owe you money,’ she said.

‘You’re damned right, sis,’ he said, reaching for the brandy bottle which Higgins had left within arm’s reach of Benedict. Dame Pamela frowned in disapproval.

They chatted away for half an hour or so, the fire crackling and the clock ticking above the mantelpiece. Finally, believing that it would be most unseemly to yawn in front of her guests, Dame Pamela stood up.

‘Well, I think it’s time to call it a night,’ she said. ‘Higgins will see you to your rooms. Good night.’ She kissed them both and left them in the capable hands of her butler before returning to her bedroom.

As she climbed back into bed, Dame Pamela thought what a great relief it was that Gemma had arrived but she was still concerned about her brother and guessed that only time would tell the truth about his reason for visiting Purley Hall.

Chapter 6

A white world greeted the guests the next morning. Mia Castle was one of the first out of bed and whipped the curtains back, blinding her poor sister.

‘Sarah!’ she cried. ‘Come and see!’

Sarah sat up in bed and blinked in the bright white light that flooded the bedroom.

‘Come
on!
’ Mia pleaded as if all the snow might suddenly melt away.

Sarah brushed her hair out of her face and placed her feet into her slippers – first the left and then the right, careful not to touch the carpet – and joined her sister at the window.

‘Oh!’ she said as she saw the sight that greeted her. Their bedroom was at the back of the house overlooking the garden and the landscape beyond and everything had turned white. It was the softest, sparkliest, dreamiest of worlds. The ground was covered in at least six inches of snow and all the trees were wearing white garments. The garden obelisks had turned from hard stone to soft wool and the lake had disappeared completely.

Mia opened the sash window and leaned out. ‘Listen. Isn’t it quiet? I love that about snow. It seems to absorb all sound.’

Sarah nodded and then shivered. ‘We’d better get ready for breakfast,’ she said, moving away from the window.

Mia closed it with a sigh. ‘It’s going to be a white Christmas,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Sarah?’