A Weekend with Mr. Darcy (16 page)

Walking down the driveway, Robyn wished she could visit the house, but it was the church she'd come to see, and she took a small path to the right and entered by the latch gate.

The two graves she was looking for weren't hard to find, because a group of people were standing in front of them with cameras. Standing side by side at the back of the churchyard in a wonderfully sunny spot, the markers were of simple pale stone declaring the departure of Cassandra Austen and Cassandra Elizabeth Austen. Jane's mother had lived to the ripe old age of eighty-seven and her sister had lived until seventy-two. How much longer they'd had than Jane, Robyn thought, and how sad that the three of them had been parted in death. Jane and her sister had been close, and it seemed strange that Jane was in Winchester so many miles away from her beloved Chawton.

After walking around to the front of the church, Robyn entered, instantly recognising a few people from the conference. It was then that she noticed Warwick sitting in one of the pews, his head bent. He hadn't seen her come in and at first she thought he was praying. It wasn't until she stood beside him that she saw he was writing. He was using a spiral-bound notebook, and his black pen was moving across it at a furious pace. Mesmerised, she watched him for a few moments, wondering what he was writing.

When he looked up at last, he almost leapt right out of the pew.

‘Robyn!' he said, closing the pad and placing it quickly in the pocket of his jacket before standing up and raking a hand through his dark hair.

‘Hello,' she said. ‘You writing?' It was a silly question, but she didn't know what else to say. ‘I mean, is it a journal?'

‘Well sort of,' he said. ‘Have you seen the graves? I was just going to look at them.'

‘Yes, I've seen them,' she said.

‘I'll see you back on the coach then,' he said, making a hasty exit from the church.

Robyn watched him go and then realised that Katherine wasn't with him, which made her remember Dan. Wonderful handsome Dan with kisses warmer than the sun and hands that made her skin tingle all over. She hadn't thought about him for hours, and that surprised her, but like everything in her life, he had to get in the queue behind Jane Austen.

***

After a very good pot of tea, Katherine left Cassandra's Cup and made her way to the coach. She had a little wobble on the way, wondering if she had time to nip back to the Jane Austen shop and double-check that there wasn't something she overlooked, but she thought better of it and went meekly on her way to the coach.

Warwick was already on board, and Katherine suddenly felt anxious.

‘Hey!' he said to her as she approached.

She hesitated a moment, and he seemed to sense it.

‘You okay?' he asked.

She nodded and sat down beside him. ‘You went off,' she said without preamble.

‘To the church,' he said. ‘I told you.'

‘Yes, I know,' she said. ‘But it was the manner in which you went.'

‘I don't understand.'

‘No,' she said, ‘neither do I.'

‘Katherine? What's wrong?'

She turned to look at him, and his eyes were so large and dark that she could easily have lost herself in them and forgotten all her worries, but she didn't. ‘What's wrong?' she said. ‘That's exactly what I was going to ask you. Are you regretting what happened, now you've had time to think about it?'

‘What do you mean? Of course I'm not regretting it!'

‘Because you've been very strange,' she said with an undisguised pout.

‘When?'

‘In the garden—before you went to the church.'

‘I'm sorry,' he said, and he really did sound like he was sorry. ‘I wasn't aware of that.'

‘It was like you didn't want to talk to me anymore.'

He shook his head. ‘No, it's not that at all! It's just I didn't want to talk about work, you know?'

Katherine's eyes narrowed as she tried to understand him. ‘You should have said something. Why didn't you say something? I've been brooding for the past hour, and I'm not the kind of woman who takes to brooding kindly.'

He dared a little smile and picked up her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it.

‘I won't ever make you brood again,' he said.

‘You'd better not,' she said, and sitting back in her seat, she allowed herself to be kissed before the coach started to fill up.

After a late lunch back at Purley, Robyn ventured out into the sunshine. It was blissfully warm, and the sky was the shade of blue one dreams about on dark winter days.

It had been a wonderful morning at Chawton, but it was equally good to be back at Purley. Robyn really felt that she was slipping into a new way of life in Hampshire.
How easy it would be to live here
, she thought, staring out across the immaculate lawn and the neat flower beds.

It was then that a chestnut and white flash of fur darted towards her. It was Biscuit.

‘Hello, little fellow,' Robyn chimed, bending down to fuss over him. He jumped up onto her knees, making her laugh and nearly sending her toppling onto the grass. He gave a little jump, licked her face, and then sprang off her lap and ran a few circles, heading back towards the stable block whence he came, turning back to look at her every now and then. It was as if he were trying to get her to follow him. Robyn laughed. Maybe Dan had trained him to do just that. Maybe Biscuit was Dan's furry matchmaker and she didn't need much encouragement to obey.

Walking under the clock tower into the stable block, she inhaled deeply the scent of horses. Dan was right—it really was the best smell in the world, especially on a warm autumn day when everything smelt horsy and warm and the scent of hay carried on the breeze.

Robyn noticed that Biscuit had disappeared, but she spied Moby, the golden Labrador, and went over to give him a fuss.

‘Where is everyone, Moby dog?' she asked as he pushed his considerable weight against her leg while she rubbed his belly.

‘Did I hear a friendly voice?'

Robyn looked up. She'd definitely heard Dan, but she couldn't see him anywhere.

‘Dan?'

‘Over here.'

Robyn turned to one of the stables and saw his bright coppery head of hair appear above a stable door.

He grinned at her. ‘Come and say hello,' he said.

Robyn walked across the yard and entered the stable.

‘This is Minstrel,' Dan said, patting the bay horse that was happily munching a bale of hay. ‘One of our new recruits, aren't you, boy?'

‘He's gorgeous,' Robyn said. ‘How many horses do you have here?'

‘Six that belong to Pammy and three others whose owners live locally.'

Robyn watched as he finished grooming the gleaming coat, his bronzed arms covered in a light layer of dust and his bright hair flapping about as he moved. It was rhythmic and mesmeric, and when he finished, she felt quite dazed.

‘I missed you,' he said.

‘When?'

‘Since we said good night.'

Robyn smiled and watched as he put the body brush down and wiped his hands down the front of his jeans. He was wearing a dark T-shirt that was fraying around the neck in a particularly provocative way, Robyn thought, gazing at his throat as if it were the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

‘Robyn,' he whispered, and before she could think to say anything, his arms were around her and his mouth had claimed hers in the sweetest kiss. He was firm and gentle at the same time, and Robyn had never felt safer in her life. When she finally opened her eyes, he was gazing down at her as if she were the centre of the entire universe. She smiled up at him, her hands placed on his chest.

‘So what's on, this afternoon?' he asked, his hands stroking her hair. ‘When do I have to give you up again?'

Robyn looked thoughtful as she tried to remember, but it was distracting when a handsome man was kissing her neck. She tried to concentrate but found that all she could focus on was the hotness on her skin from his touch. Gently she pushed him away. ‘Dan!' she chided.

‘What?'

‘I'm trying to think.'

‘And I'm trying to kiss you. It's very important.'

‘There's some talk about the Regency bonnet and a lecture called What Can We Learn from Jane Austen?'

‘Lots,' Dan said. ‘There, now you know the answer, you can come out riding with me.'

‘What?'

He stood back up to full height, leaving her neck and her lips alone for a moment. ‘Come riding with me. It's a perfect afternoon, and I could show you some of my favourite spots. There's a little place by the river across the fields from here. You'd love it.'

Robyn laughed at the ease of his invitation. ‘But I'm at the conference.'

‘So skip class!' he said. ‘It'll be fun.'

‘I've never been riding before,' Robyn said.

‘Then it's high time you did.'

‘But what if I fall off?'

‘You won't. I'll put you on Poppin. He's as slow and gentle as an autumn breeze.'

‘But I don't have a hat or boots. I don't even have trousers with me.'

‘That's okay,' Dan said. ‘We've got loads of riding gear in the tack room. Come on!'

Robyn found that she was wearing a huge smile; it was hard to refuse such an offer.

Sure enough, at the back of the tack room there was an old clothes box stuffed with trousers, jumpers, and hats, and innumerable pairs of riding boots stood at attention beside it. Dan left her to change, and Robyn found the most suitable clothes, choosing a sky-blue jumper, a pair of brown jodhpurs, and smart black boots. Twisting her hair back, she popped on a riding hat and left the makeshift changing room. Dan was tacking up the grey horse he'd promised her, and Robyn approached them, feeling a little shy.

‘Hey!' he said, turning around. ‘You look great!'

‘Liar!'

‘No, you really do.'

Robyn shook her head. ‘Everything's just a little too big.'

‘Is the hat okay?'

‘Oh, the hat's fine.'

Dan approached her and fidded with the hat, making sure it sat snugly and that the straps were okay. ‘The hat's the main thing,' he said, and a few minutes later, he had put his own hat on and all that was left was to mount the horses.

Robyn's horse, Poppin, was the docile grey that she'd met the first time she entered the stable block.

‘He's one of Pammy's favourites for Sunday rides around the fields,' Dan said as he lowered the stirrups for Robyn.

‘Pammy—Dame Pamela won't mind, will she?'

‘'Course not. It's good that they get exercise. Now come over here and say hello.'

Robyn reached out a hand and stroked Poppin's grey muzzle. ‘He's lovely. Can I keep him?'

Dan laughed. ‘If he were mine, I'd give him to you right now.'

‘Who will you be riding?'

‘Perseus.'

‘That's a very grand name.'

Dan nodded. ‘The hero from Greek mythology who slew Medusa. I think Pammy was playing the goddess Athena when she bought this one. Everything had to be Greek.'

‘Is he the chestnut?' Robyn asked, remembering the striking image of Dan on horseback the first time she saw him.

‘He is. He's a very special horse, but he needs a firm hand. Now,' he said, standing behind Robyn, ‘place your hands like this.' He took Robyn's hands and guided them. ‘With your foot in the stirrup, I'll give you a leg up, okay? Just swing yourself up into the saddle, making sure you clear Poppin's rump. He's got quite a sizeable one.'

Robyn grinned, but she could feel her heart racing at the prospect of leaving the ground.

‘On three,' he said. ‘One, two, three!'

Robyn was officially launched and travelling at an alarming speed before hitting the saddle with a bum-numbing thump.

‘Okay?' Dan said.

‘Not the softest of landings,' Robyn said, grimacing. ‘Sorry, Poppin.'

‘He'll survive. He's had bigger bottoms than yours landing on his back.'

Robyn blushed. She was well aware that her derriere was very much on display in the jodhpurs, and Dan must have enjoyed a very good view as he swung her up into the saddle.

‘Okay,' he said, grabbing her fingers. ‘Reins like this. Just have a walk around the yard whilst I get Perseus. Use your knees to squeeze him into motion.'

Robyn's brow furrowed in deep concentration. She felt far from the ground, and she didn't want to land on it from such a great height. It felt strange, and yet there was something wonderfully exciting about it too. This was a new Robyn—Robyn the horsewoman who could gallop across the countryside, clearing every gate in sight. Well, maybe not today.

As she managed to move Poppin into a walk, she slowly began to build up her confidence.

‘Don't keep looking down at the ground!' Dan called from Perseus's stable. ‘Not unless you want to end up there. Look in the direction you're heading.'

Robyn did what she was told. Yes, that was better. She did a few more circuits of the stable yard, getting used to turning left and right and maintaining her balance although she did have one or two wobbles that nearly unseated her.

‘Feel ready for the great outdoors?' Dan asked as he led Perseus out of his stable and swung himself into the saddle with such ease that it took Robyn's breath away.

‘Come on, boys,' Dan said, giving a whistle for the dogs to follow.

‘Will they be able to keep up?' Robyn asked.

‘We won't be doing anything beyond trotting,' he said. ‘Not with this being your first time.'

Robyn was relieved to hear it. Although she couldn't think of anything more romantic than galloping across the fields of Hampshire with the wind whipping back her hair, she wasn't at all sure she'd be able to play out such a dream without ending up on her bottom in the middle of a ditch.

Dan led the way out of the stable block and down the driveway. Robyn took a quick look back at Purley Hall, wondering if anyone would notice her sloping off on horseback when she should be attending the next lecture.

Taking a left out of the driveway, they walked down the lane, the wonderful sound of hooves clopping on the road surface, until they came to a bridle way.

‘This way,' Dan said, and they turned the horses onto a track lined with trees on one side and open fields on the other. Moby and Biscuit led the way, the little terrier a blur of fur and the old Labrador sticking his head in the undergrowth at regular intervals. Robyn's face was bisected by the biggest of smiles. This was the last thing she expected when she booked a weekend at Purley, but how wonderful it was! Wasn't life extraordinary? One made plans, but then fate came along and said, ‘Actually,
this
is going to happen today.'

Robyn looked ahead at the tall straight back of Dan and straightened her own back in response. She wanted to look the part, even if she didn't feel it. He looked at home in the saddle and so—well—handsome. What was it about a man on a horse? she wondered. Perhaps it was the unique bond between man and beast that just didn't happen between a man and a car. Or perhaps it was the clothes. Dan certainly looked damned fine in a pair of jodhpurs. Maybe that was the real reason. Those figure-hugging trousers were wonderfully reminiscent of men in Jane Austen's time. Certainly one couldn't help noticing how snugly they fit over his bottom, especially as Perseus broke into a little trot and Dan's bottom did a little dance in the air.

‘Okay?' he called to her.

Robyn, whose eyes were still fixed on Dan's rear, had been so preoccupied by the vision before her that she almost toppled out of her saddle when Poppin moved from walk to trot. Mercifully it didn't last long, and they returned to a sedate pace that allowed her to get her breath back.

‘Are you remembering to keep looking in the direction you're heading?' he asked.

‘Yes,' Robyn said, and that was the main problem, wasn't it?

‘You're doing really well,' he said, turning around in his saddle and throwing an easy smile in her direction. ‘You sure this is your first time?'

‘Well, other than the obligatory donkey ride on the beach, yes!'

‘You'll probably feel it in the morning, but I hope it'll be worth it.'

Robyn was quite sure it would be worth it, for where would she rather be than with the amazing man she'd just met?

As the bridle way opened out into a field, Dan pointed to the far side. ‘The river's down there,' he said, turning around to look at her. ‘It's the most perfect place in the world. You'll love it.' He gave a smile that made her heart somersault in anticipation, and she knew that he was right—she was going to love it.

***

Robyn wasn't the only one to have ducked out of a talk that afternoon. Warwick had decided that he knew all he wanted to know about the Regency bonnet and decided that a quiet cup of tea in his room was in order. He needed some time to himself to get his thoughts in order. Things hadn't gone well that morning. First, he'd felt himself compromised by Katherine's questions and responded badly to them, shutting down completely and upsetting her which was the last thing he wanted to do.

‘You're lucky she's still speaking to you,' he told his reflection in the dressing table mirror.

Then Robyn had caught him writing in the church. As he'd entered the driveway that led to the Great House at Chawton, he'd thought of an idea for a scene and had to write it down. It was an occupational hazard as a writer. Ideas didn't always wait until you were sat at your desk with everything to hand—they sprung upon you when you were in a supermarket queue or driving your car. Well, Warwick was prepared for that eventuality and always carried a pen and pad with him so he wouldn't lose the moments when inspiration struck.

‘But what if she'd read what you were writing?' he asked himself. What if Robyn had been quietly looking over his shoulder? She might have discovered his true identity right there and then and run to Katherine and blown his cover.

He'd been careless and sloppy—he'd even left his notebook out in his bedroom. What if Katherine had seen it? How would he get out of that one? No, he had to be more careful. He couldn't risk her finding out who he really was until he sorted things in his own mind first.