A Weekend with Mr. Darcy (19 page)

Katherine wasn't sure what had woken her up but when she saw the sleeping figure of Warwick beside her, she was glad she had awakened. It was wonderful to wake up in the middle of the night with a handsome man in her bed and it was something that didn't happen very often. With her workload and her luck with men, she'd been woefully short on male company over the last few years which probably explained why she'd catapulted herself into this relationship with undisguised gusto.

For a few blissful moments, she watched him as he slept. He had the most gorgeous dark hair she'd ever seen and the sort of eyelashes women spent a fortune trying to create. And he was there next to her. How had that happened? Was this her prize for having suffered the lies and treachery of David? Was she in line for some pure unadulterated joy at last?

One of the most exciting things about the whole weekend was that Katherine would have the pleasure of living it all again when she wrote to Lorna Warwick. She couldn't wait to tell Lorna all her news. What would the great author say? Would she approve of such things or would she be shocked by Katherine's behaviour? No! You couldn't possibly shock a romantic novelist, could you? Thinking back to some of the steamy scenes she'd written, it would take a lot to shock her, Katherine thought.

Slipping quietly out of bed, Katherine opened her bag and took out a notepad and pen and went to sit at the dressing table by the window, switching on the lamp as quietly as possible. She was feeling restless and thought she might as well start her letter to Lorna now.

Dear Lorna,

Forgive the notepaper, but I'm writing this from Purley Hall in Hampshire. The Jane Austen Conference has been something of a surprise this year, and I only wish you were here to share it. I think I've fallen in love! I know—I said it was never going to happen again, and I truly believed it wouldn't. I wanted a good long break from men after the whole David debacle, but this has just—well—happened!

His name's Warwick—like your last name! Isn't that funny? I've never met a Warwick before. It's quite a distinguished sort of name, isn't it? A real hero's name, I think. Rather like something out of Jane Austen. I can just imagine it. Captain Warwick Lawton. I wish you could meet him. Well, I wish I could meet you too. It feels as if we've already met somehow, but I was hoping you'd be able to make the conference. It would have been fun to finally meet you and—

‘What are you doing?'

Warwick's voice startled her. She turned around and saw him sitting up in the bed.

‘Nothing. Go back to sleep!'

‘Are you writing?'

‘Yes,' she said.

Warwick gave a little chuckle. ‘You look very Austensian sitting there in the lamplight with your writing paper and pen.'

‘I didn't mean to disturb you. Sorry,' she said. ‘Go back to sleep.'

‘What are you writing?' he asked.

She sighed and closed the notepad, returning it to her bag with her pen. ‘Nothing,' she said, slipping back into bed next to him. She snuggled up against him, he kissed her forehead, and she closed her eyes. She could finish her letter to Lorna another time.

***

In the stable yard, Robyn was beginning to wish she hadn't left the warmth of her bedroom.

‘You'd better come inside before you freeze to death,' Dan said. He could obviously see her shivering.

Robyn entered the tiny hallway where Moby and Biscuit were wagging furiously at their midnight visitor, their tails beating against her legs in the confined space. A wooden staircase led up from the door, and Dan led the way. It was only then that Robyn realised he was wearing shorts and a T-shirt.

‘I woke you up,' she said, getting quite an eyeful as she followed him upstairs.

‘Not really,' he said.

His voice sounded strange—strained and unnatural. It wasn't the voice she'd grown used to over the past couple of days.

‘I didn't mean to disturb you.'

‘You're not disturbing me,' he said as they reached the top of the stairs. Robyn looked into the room that greeted her. It was a small loft-like room with white walls and exposed beams everywhere and a beaten-up sofa at its centre onto which Biscuit bounced.

‘Off!' Dan told the little dog, who shamefacedly jumped off and returned to his basket in the corner of the room.

There was a tiny kitchen sink by a small window that overlooked the stable yard; a cooker; a fridge; a shelf crammed with mugs, bowls, and plates; and another full of cookery books. He hadn't told her he liked to cook but then again, they'd known each other only a frighteningly short time, and she realised that there was an awful lot she didn't know about the man. Suddenly she felt shy at being in his home so late at night but tried not to show it as she looked around, noticing a door at the far end of the room that she guessed led to the bedroom and bathroom.

‘It's small but it's home,' Dan said, as if reading Robyn's thoughts.

‘It's nice,' she said. ‘You've got it nice.' She took in the painting of a horse on the far wall and looked at the two dogs curled up in their baskets, now that the excitement had died down. What more did anyone need? Robyn wondered how it compared to the plush London apartment he'd once lived in. She'd bet that place hadn't smelled of horses.

Dan motioned for her to take a seat and she sat on the little sofa.

‘Do you want a tea or a coffee?'

She shook her head. ‘I'm restless enough as it is.'

‘I've got some chamomile tea somewhere. Pammy got me a box when I first came down from London. She said I had the city jitters and needed to calm down.'

‘Did it work?'

‘I don't know,' he said. ‘It tasted of wee so I poured it away.'

Dan came and sat next to her on the sofa, his long bare legs stretched out in front of him. It was very distracting. The room was lit by a single low-wattage lamp and the intimate atmosphere was making Robyn feel uneasy but she hadn't gone there to sit around feeling awkward. This wasn't about just her anymore, and she had to think about how Dan was feeling.

She took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to say sorry,' she said, her voice barely audible above the snores emanating from Biscuit and Moby's respective baskets.

‘You don't have to explain anything to me,' Dan said.

‘Yes, I do.' Robyn leant forward and looked at him. ‘I didn't plan for any of this to happen. I'm not saying that as an excuse, but this has all taken me by surprise.' She sighed. ‘Jace was never meant to come here. I was trying to break up with him, you see, and I think he got wind of that. He started turning on the charm a bit. Well, not much. But he insisted on driving me down here and then he went and booked a room nearby, determined that we should make a proper weekend of it together. He's been hard to ignore, but I've been doing my best; I really have.'

‘Why didn't he come on the weekend with you?'

‘Are you kidding? He can't stand Jane Austen. He'd be a nightmare. He can't even bear to be in the same room when I'm watching one of the film adaptations.'

‘But we sometimes do things to please the ones we love,' Dan said. ‘I once put on a suit and sat through four hours of opera to please a girlfriend.'

Robyn gave a little smile. ‘Jace isn't like that. If he doesn't like it, then it must be rubbish.'

They were quiet for a moment, the sound of the dogs snoring filling the silence.

‘I had no idea he was going to propose to me. I really didn't. It completely took me by surprise. And the horse and everything!' Robyn's eyes widened as she remembered. ‘That's the most romantic thing he's ever done in his entire life.'

‘It's the most stupid thing he's ever done. He could've got his neck broken. He's lucky Perseus was in a good mood,' Dan said.

‘I know,' Robyn said. ‘I was worried for him, but he looked happy. I think it's one of the very few times he thought of anyone but himself.'

‘So you didn't know he was going to propose?'

‘Of course not!' Robyn said. ‘I've never given him any encouragement, especially in these last few weeks. If anything, I've been trying to distance myself from him.'

Dan looked at her, his forehead furrowed.

‘What?' Robyn said.

‘You said yes.'

Robyn swallowed hard. ‘I know.'

‘But you're not wearing his ring.'

‘I know,' Robyn said. She looked at Dan. His eyes were narrowed, and she wasn't sure if he was about to shout at her or kiss her.

‘I've got something for you,' he suddenly said, getting up from the sofa and walking across the room. He picked up a jacket that had been thrown over the back of a wooden chair and Robyn watched as he reached inside the pocket and brought out a little red box. It was the second time that evening that she'd seen a man do that, and she felt nervous, which was ridiculous, really. Dan wasn't about to propose to her, was he? No! He couldn't be. The thought was ridiculous. Besides, she told herself, the box he was holding was too big to hold a ring. Unless it was a hideously huge, expensive ring.

Dan cleared his throat. ‘I went into Winchester after our ride this afternoon. There were a couple of things I had to pick up, and I dropped by a friend's shop. He has a funny little place selling antiques at the back of the cathedral. Well, not antiques as such. More junk, really. But you never know what you're going to find there. Pammy loves it in there. She's always picking up little bits of costume jewellery. Anyway,' he said, taking a step forward, ‘I saw this, and it made me think of you.' He held out the little red box and Robyn took it, looking up into his eyes.

‘I don't know what to say,' Robyn said.

‘Better take a look at it first,' he said with a little smile, and Robyn opened it up to reveal the prettiest brooch she'd ever seen. It was a perfect silver horse racing along with its tail and mane flying out behind him.

‘It's lovely!' she said. ‘I've never been bought anything so pretty.' She looked up at Dan and smiled. ‘Thank you.'

‘It's only silver,' Dan said. ‘I know it can't compete with a diamond ring.'

‘Up until today, that ring is the only real gift Jace has ever bought me.'

Dan looked perplexed. ‘He's never bought you a gift?'

‘Well, he usually gets me practical things. Last year, for my birthday, he bought me a milk pan. It's not very romantic, I know, but I did need one.' She gave a little smile. ‘But it's nice to be spoiled now and again, except I don't think I've done anything to deserve this, Dan.'

‘Why should you have to deserve something? I saw it and I thought of you. That's all. You don't have to earn it. I wanted to get it for you. Buying it was a purely selfish thing, really.' He sat back down on the sofa next to her and Robyn took the brooch out of its box and handed it to him.

‘Pin it on for me,' she said.

He unhooked the clasp, and she pointed to the spot on her jumper, watching as his long fingers brushed the material. ‘There,' he said a moment later. ‘You now have a horse galloping across your breasts.'

Robyn giggled and then saw Dan's sudden embarrassment as he realised what he'd said.

‘I'd better go,' Robyn said, standing up. She walked to the top of the stairs but as soon as she started to descend, Dan's hand grabbed hers.

‘Don't go,' he said. ‘Stay with me.'

She looked around at him. With her on the second step of the stairs and him above, he looked taller than ever, and she knew that it wouldn't be hard to stay with him but before she could say anything, he pulled her back up the stairs and was kissing her, his mouth covering hers and preventing any protestations. It was so easy. She didn't want to be anywhere else but there with this man, and she didn't want to be doing anything else.

So what was the problem?

‘Dan!' She pushed away from him, tears stinging her eyes.

‘Don't go,' he said, his voice quiet and controlled but Robyn was fleeing down the stairs and was out of the stable yard before he could stop her.

Dan was quick to follow, stopping only to pull a coat over him, and Moby and Biscuit were in hot pursuit too, sensing a scene of great excitement.

‘Robyn!'

She didn't stop but she didn't need to because Dan was by her in seconds and had blocked her way.

‘Dan—don't!'

‘You're not going like this. You came to see me tonight, and we've hardly said a word to each other.'

Robyn realised that he was right. She'd meant to give him a proper explanation about what had happened with Jace, except she hadn't.

‘I'm really sorry, Dan. I didn't mean to drag you into this mess.'

‘You didn't,' he said. ‘I dragged myself and willingly. I want to be with you, but you've got to let me know what's happening. I can see you're not happy with Jace.
Anybody
can see that. And yet you tell him you'll marry him. What's going on?'

‘You don't understand,' Robyn said.

‘No, that's right, I don't understand because you're not telling me anything. What's his hold on you, anyway?'

Robyn stood silently for a moment. ‘You want to know what his hold on me is?'

Dan nodded.

‘He's been kind to me.'

‘Kind? Buying you milk pans and not letting you be the person you truly are?'

Robyn shook her head. ‘I'm grateful to him,' she said. ‘He helped me at a time when I needed it.'

‘What time?'

She sighed. She didn't want to go into all that now but looking at Dan and thinking about the time they'd spent together, she realised that he had a right to know.

When he was quite sure Katherine was asleep again, Warwick got out of bed. He took a sip of water and then walked towards the window, looking out across the great expanse of lawn that was silvered by the moonlight. He then looked back at the sleeping form of Katherine and smiled. Her dark hair had spilled out across his pillow, and she looked peaceful.

How long ago it seemed since he'd known the quiet contentment that he was feeling. His relationships of the past had always been more about fun than anything else. They passed the time nicely enough and he never had anything to complain about but then again, he'd never felt the way he felt about Katherine. There'd been one woman who came close. Alison. Warwick had met her on a research trip in Austria. She'd been sitting by the bar in the hotel and he had bought her a drink and they'd spent the whole evening talking. They'd gotten on well—they really had—and yet there hadn't been that spark he felt with Katherine. Their relationship had lasted almost a year. She lived in Glasgow, which was a fair old way from Sussex, but they'd made the effort to meet when she was on business in London, but it had all fizzled out.

He sighed. That was as close as he'd ever come to a long-term relationship. It was rather pathetic really, considering the number of years he'd been on the planet, but perhaps things were about to change.

Watching Katherine as she slept, he thought about the confidences they'd shared in their letters and how close they'd become.

He remembered one letter in particular when she'd been feeling down about the married man she'd been involved with. David, wasn't it? Warwick had wanted to drive up to Oxford that minute and punch him in the nose. How dare somebody upset her so much! He could still recall whole sections of the letter.

He'll never ever know how much I loved him
, she'd written.
Or how much I was willing to give him. For the first time in my life, I was thinking about the future—the long-term future. I was thinking about children—can you believe it? I'm so angry with myself. How could I not have seen the man he really was?

Warwick swallowed hard as he remembered her words, but he reassured himself that he wasn't another David. He just had a little bit of explaining to do at some point; that was all.

How he valued that openness in her! She'd held nothing back from him in her letters—well, she'd held nothing back from Lorna. They really were the very best of friends, and it was killing him that he couldn't tell her that now. If only there was some way he could get back into bed with her and confess everything. If only he could be sure of her response.

Katherine stirred in her sleep, and he saw her eyes opening. ‘Warwick?'

‘Hello, sleepyhead.'

‘What time is it? Are you okay?'

He nodded and walked back to the bed, leaning over to stroke her face. ‘I've never been better,' he said, and got back into the warm bed beside the woman he was fast falling in love with.

***

Outside in the garden, Robyn was wishing that she hadn't left the warmth of her bed. If she'd stayed there, she wouldn't be facing the questioning eyes of Dan, would she?

‘Okay,' Robyn said with a sigh. ‘I'll tell you about Jace if you really want to know.'

‘I really want to know,' Dan said. ‘Shall we sit over there?' he asked, motioning to a bench near the cedar tree.

Robyn nodded, and they walked across the lawn to reach it, Moby and Biscuit trotting ahead of them, taking a walk in the moonlight in their stride.

‘I don't know where to begin,' Robyn said.

‘The beginning's usually a good place.'

Robyn sighed as she sat down. Her eyes had adjusted to the moonlit night, and she felt a sudden calmness, sitting under the great tree with Dan. Somehow she knew she could trust him.

‘It happened at high school,' Robyn began. ‘You'd never believe it, but I was rather shy then.' She looked at Dan.

‘And rather shy now,' he said.

‘Well, a little, I guess. But imagine that tenfold. It wasn't an easy time. I was a bit of an easy target with my hair.'

‘Your hair is beautiful,' Dan said.

‘But it's very easy to pull.'

‘I thought that sort of thing only happened at primary school.'

‘You don't know the type of high school I went to,' Robyn said, remembering the constant teasing and endless jokes made about her long locks. ‘Anyway, this isn't about my hair. Well, it began with my hair, I suppose. Jason—Jace—came to my rescue when beastly Ben Harris was making my life a living hell one lunchtime.'

‘What happened?'

‘Jace punched him.'

‘Oh!'

‘He got a week's worth of detentions. He was lucky he wasn't suspended, really or expelled.'

‘And that's why you fell for him? Jace the hero flying to your rescue?' Dan asked.

‘No, it wasn't that, actually, but it certainly made me notice him. I'd known him before that, of course. We used to take the same bus to school, and everyone knew everyone else, but it was only after that that we really became friends.'

Robyn paused for a moment and looked down, noticing how bright her silver brooch looked in the moonlight.

‘You okay?' Dan whispered.

She nodded. ‘It was that summer when things started to go wrong. My brother, Scott, had finished sixth form and was hanging around the house driving Mum crazy. She wanted him to get a job, but he just spent most of his time in bed. We all kept teasing him, saying he was a good-for-nothing lay about. Dad called him a bed potato. We laughed about it, really. We all thought he was just being a moody teenager. We didn't realise he was ill.'

Dan frowned. ‘What happened?'

Robyn looked up at him, and there were tears in her eyes. ‘He died,' she whispered. ‘It was all so quick. He started complaining about headaches. They were getting worse. He was having trouble with his vision and he wasn't eating, and it turned out he had a tumour. He died a week before Christmas.'

‘God, Robyn! I'm so sorry.'

She nodded. ‘It was years ago and yet it still makes me sad to think about it. And, you see, Jace was the only good friend I had at that time. Most of my other friends seemed to just melt away. It was so horrible. I think some were afraid to talk about it, in case I broke down in front of them. They didn't know what to say or do. And then others were sweet for a day or two—making a fuss over me with cuddles and kisses—but then they forgot about it all. For them, it was time to move on, and I couldn't bear it because I
couldn't
move on—not for ages. Scott was my only brother and I missed him every day, and Jace was the only one who seemed to understand. He got me through it. He let me talk and cry for hours. I'd tell him the same things about how I missed Scott and how guilty I felt about it being him and not me. And I must have driven him mad because I was always asking the same question over and over again—why,
why
?' Robyn paused. ‘I've never forgotten Jace's kindness. He was so sweet and attentive.'

Dan squeezed her hand, and they sat in silence for a moment. Finally he spoke. ‘If you don't mind my saying, it seems to me as if Jace has never let you forget that either, from what you've told me about him.'

‘What do you mean?' Robyn said with a sniff.

‘You don't want to be with him, do you, let alone marry him? And yet you said
yes
.'

Robyn looked confused.

‘He's playing on that kindness of yours. He knows you're not happy with him yet he had the effrontery to propose to you and to expect you to say yes!'

Robyn stood up. She didn't like the angry tone of Dan's voice.

‘I'm sorry about your brother—I truly am. Nobody should have to go through something like that and I'm sure Jace was a good friend to you.'

‘Yes, he was,' Robyn said.

‘But you've more than paid for that one kindness with years of your own, Robyn. He can't expect any more from you. You can't build a relationship on guilt!'

‘But he was there for me when nobody else was.'

‘So say thank you and buy him a bottle of wine.'

‘It's not as easy as that.'

‘Why not?' Dan asked. ‘I'll tell you why not—because you're not letting it be easy.'

Robyn started walking back towards the hall. She didn't want to hear any more of this.

‘Robyn!' Dan said as he chased after her, the dogs following at his heels.

‘You've got to let me sort things out by myself, Dan. I can't think at the moment.'

‘Listen to me! Tell me you're not going to go through with this.'

Robyn looked up at him. His face was filled with concern. ‘I don't know what I'm going to do.'

‘That's not good enough.'

‘Why?' Robyn said. ‘Why are you so concerned about me and the decision I make?'

Dan gave her a look so intense that she almost stumbled backwards. ‘You have to ask me that?' he said. ‘Don't you know? I love you!'

‘You can't love me. We hardly know each other.'

‘What's that got to do with anything? You've known Jace for years, but you obviously don't love him,' he said.

‘You can't presume to know how I feel.'

‘What are you talking about?' Dan said. ‘You've more or less said how you feel about him yourself, and what the hell have you been doing with me if you're in love with Jace? Tell me that!'

Robyn stood perfectly still and silent for a moment. ‘I don't know,' she said at last. She could almost feel her heart caving at the feebleness of her statement. It wasn't what Dan deserved to hear, and she knew that it wasn't the truth either.

‘Danny?' a voice suddenly called across the lawn. It was Dame Pamela in a dressing gown and slippers. ‘You'll wake everybody up! For heaven's sake—come inside, you two.'

Robyn turned to Dan. She was desperate to say something—anything—that would give him some understanding of how she felt about him, but the moment had slipped away.

‘Oh, my dear! You're frozen!' Dame Pamela said as she approached them, placing an arm on Robyn's shoulder. As soon as she made the observation, Robyn started to shiver. She watched as the great actress took in the dishevelled state of her brother, standing barefoot in the middle of the lawn with a coat gaping open to reveal his T-shirt and shorts.

‘What's got into you two?' Dame Pamela asked. ‘My goodness!'

‘It's all right,' Dan said. ‘It's over.'

Robyn blanched at his words and watched as he took off with the dogs towards the stables.

‘Dan!' Robyn called after him, but he didn't stop. He didn't even turn around. What just happened? What had she done? One minute they'd been sharing confidences and she'd felt close to him—telling him things she'd never told anyone else. The next minute, he was walking away from her, declaring it was over.

She felt hot tears stinging her eyes as she watched him go. Was that really it? She swallowed hard, and her throat felt tight and lumpy. Dame Pamela took hold of her arm and led her inside.

‘Come this way, my dear,' she said, and Robyn had no choice but to follow. It was obvious that Dan didn't want to talk any more that night, and Robyn was concerned that he didn't want to talk to her ever again. What had gone wrong? She hadn't meant for things to turn out this way, truly she hadn't, and her heart ached when she thought of the parting look on his face.

‘What have I done?' she said out loud.

‘Oh, you've probably just fallen in love,' Dame Pamela said, ‘like we all have in our time.'

‘I've made such a mess of things.'

‘We'll get them sorted,' she said. ‘Come along now.' She led the way up the stairs and along a corridor beyond a door marked Private. Ordinarily, Robyn would have been fascinated by a secret tour of an actress's home, but she was feeling washed out and worn down and couldn't muster any enthusiasm. She barely noticed the plush red carpet that lined the corridor as if leading them to some glittering premiere or the framed photographs of Dame Pamela with the great and the good. There she was with two other great dames, Judi Dench and Maggie Smith, and there with the gorgeous Rupert Penry-Jones on the set of the recent adaptation of
The Importance of Being Earnest
, and there she was with the dazzling Princess Diana. Robyn saw none of these, for her thoughts were turned inward.

When the two women reached a door at the end of the wing, Dame Pamela opened it.

‘We won't be disturbed here,' she said.

Robyn walked in and saw that it was a library. She frowned. There was a library downstairs, wasn't there?

‘This is my own personal library,' Dame Pamela explained, as if reading her thoughts. ‘I keep my special reading copies here.'

Reading copies, Robyn thought. So what were the books downstairs? Then again, she had several copies of each of her Jane Austen novels, didn't she? Some were old favourites read time and time again until the spines cracked and the pages became loose. Perhaps these were Dame Pamela's loose-paged books.

Robyn looked around the room and noticed there was a table at the far end completely covered in scripts, papers, and odd bits of jumble.

‘Do excuse the mess,' Dame Pamela said, obviously noticing the direction Robyn was looking in. ‘Paperwork has never been my strong suit. Now, I think a little brandy is in order.'

‘Oh, no, Dame Pamela, really—'

‘Nonsense, child. Take a seat,' she said, motioning to a beautiful dusky pink chaise lounge.

Robyn sat down. It was on odd sort of seat to be offered, and she perched on the end of it rather than sprawling down its length.

‘I always like a little brandy in the evenings,' Dame Pamela said, and Robyn watched as the woman walked across to one of the numerous book shelves and removed a thick leather-bound copy of
A Midsummer Night's Dream
and retrieved two crystal glasses and a bottle of brandy. ‘Don't tell dear old Higgins about this,' Dame Pamela said. ‘He thinks he's in charge of the household spirits, and I'd be sorely reprimanded if he ever discovered my secret stash.'