A Weekend with Mr. Darcy (8 page)

Dan nodded. ‘I know exactly what you mean. When I came down to Purley, time suddenly took on a new dimension. It's amazing. I get up in the mornings and don't feel that knot of dread in my stomach. It might sound corny but each day really is a gift when you can spend it here with the horses. I love it. I could never go back to London.'

Robyn nodded. ‘You're so lucky,' she said. ‘It's a magical place.'

‘It is,' he said, and they looked at each other for a moment.

‘Well, I'd better be—' Robyn started.

‘How's your—' he said at the same time.

‘Sorry?' Robyn said.

‘I was just going to ask if your friend's all right. After last night, I mean.'

Robyn bit her lip. Jace. He always had to go and spoil things, even when he wasn't actually there. Here she was, surrounded by animals in the most perfect of settings, talking to a handsome man who could easily have stepped out of the pages of a novel, and Jace had to go and rear his ugly head. ‘I'm sure he's fine,' she said.

‘You haven't spoken to him?'

Robyn shook her head. ‘I'm guessing he's having a lie-in.'

‘And he's your…?'

Robyn's eyes widened a fraction. Don't make me say, she thought. ‘It's complicated,' she said at last. ‘He shouldn't be here at all. Things are…'

Dan raised a hand in the air. ‘I didn't mean to pry. You don't have to explain to me.'

‘It's okay,' she said. ‘It's just hard to explain.' She looked down at the ground, knocking her left sandal against her right. ‘Jace has always been around,' she said. ‘I can't remember a time when I didn't know him.'

Dan nodded. ‘What does he do?'

‘As little as possible.'

He laughed.

‘I really should be getting back,' she said, not really wanting to leave at all. For the first time that weekend, she wasn't thinking about Jane Austen but rather about the handsome hero before her.

‘Maybe I'll see you later,' he said. ‘I'm usually hanging around here somewhere, unless I'm taking one of the horses out.'

Robyn smiled. She wanted to say that she'd be back as soon as possible, but that wouldn't have been very heroine-like, would it? But it wasn't every day that a man like Dan walked into your life.

And not only is he handsome, but he loves animals too
, she thought, recalling how he'd kissed Poppin's pale nose, and his delight when the dogs appeared. He wouldn't make jokes about eating her darling chickens for tea, would he?

‘Okay,' she told him as casually as possible. ‘I'll see you later.'

Shading her eyes from the sun, she made to leave the stable block. And she almost maintained her nonchalance until the very last moment when she turned around to look at him once more.

He was staring right back at her.

Warwick was biding his time. He'd done nothing more than nod and smile at Katherine from across the breakfast table. He sat a couple of rows behind her in the Undressing Mr Darcy session, and he didn't even try to corner her during the first coffee break of the morning. Oh, no. That wouldn't be cool. He didn't want to come across as some sort of a stalker. He'd wait for the right moment before he made his move. It was sure to come soon enough.

After the first session that Friday morning, nobody believed that things could get any better and they were quite right. Whoever's idea it had been to invite the Reverend Ernest Hepplewhite to speak about the portrayal of the clergy in Jane Austen's novels, that person would surely be hiding in embarrassment. Undressing Mr Darcy was a tough session to follow for even the most charismatic of the speakers, so the dull and monotonous reverend was doubly boring and many a yawn had to be stifled.

Warwick completely switched off after just three minutes. Instead, he found himself mentally sifting through Katherine's letters.

She likes literature that doesn't take itself too seriously, he thought; hence her addiction to Austen. She likes my novels, he thought with a grin, especially the ones with the strong heroines who speak their minds and never compromise. She likes fine food but doesn't eat out very often because she doesn't like eating alone. Her favourite novel is
Persuasion
because it shows that everybody is entitled to a second chance and that love, goodness and patience are rewarded. But Anne Elliot isn't her favourite heroine. She can never make up her mind as to whether it is Elizabeth Bennet or Emma Woodhouse. Like most Austen fans, she adores Elizabeth's spirit and wit, but Emma's self-confidence and charm always win her over. And her favourite hero? Mr Darcy, of course, and not because of his good looks or his fortune but because he works so hard to protect Elizabeth's loved ones.

As the Reverend Ernest Hepplewhite droned on, Warwick continued his tour through Katherine's letters, revealing the innermost thoughts and feelings she had shared with him. Remembering them, he felt very privileged at having her as his friend. Now he had to endeavour to deserve her friendship all over again.

As the reverend came to the end of his talk, the sound of polite applause rippled through the room before everyone made a hasty exit. Warwick was one of the first out and stood at a vantage point where he could see everyone. Katherine was one of the last people to come out. She was talking to a woman wearing a cerise jumper that made her look like an inflated beetroot, and Warwick soon identified her as the dreadful woman with the temperamental suitcase, and he could see that Katherine looked desperate to get away from her. This was the moment, Warwick thought.

‘Ah, there you are, Katherine!' he said, bustling in and taking her arm, placing it on his. ‘Do excuse us,' he said with a cheery smile to the cerise woman.

Warwick pushed his way through the crowded hallway until they were at the foot of the left-hand staircase.

‘Excuse me!' Katherine said indignantly.

‘I'm sorry,' Warwick said, ‘but you looked as if you needed rescuing back there.'

‘And what if I did?' she said, her hands placed on her hips.

Warwick noticed how shapely her hips were in the little black dress she was wearing. It was a figure-hugging number with a scooped neckline, and she was wearing a single gold bangle and a pair of small gold hoops in her ears. Her hair was loose and shiny and her lips painted a dark red. She looked amazing.

‘I—erm—can't help but rescue beautiful women in danger.'

‘Oh, really. Have we stepped back a couple of centuries or something?' she said.

‘Naturally. We're at a Jane Austen Conference,' he said, giving her his best smile. ‘If a heroine can't be rescued here, then it's a very poor do.'

She smiled back.

He looked into the big brown eyes and felt quite lost for a moment. Don't screw up now, he told himself. You've almost got her.

‘So what did you think of our reverend, then?' he asked.

Katherine looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Interesting,' she said at length.

‘No, really?' Warwick said. ‘I was almost comatose.'

‘You really didn't find anything of interest in his talk?' she said, her forehead creasing into a frown.

‘Did you?' Warwick said. ‘Come on! The man was boredom personified. He was Mr Collins but without the entertainment value.'

Katherine laughed.

‘You know I'm right!' Warwick persisted.

‘Okay, okay. It was the worst talk I've ever had the misfortune to sit through.'

Warwick laughed. ‘Well, I'm glad you agree with me. Personally, I think our reverend would be just the sort of character Jane Austen would have placed in one of her novels and had such fun with.'

‘You're a fan of her novels, then?'

‘Of course. Why else would I be here?'

‘Oh, I don't know,' Katherine said. ‘You might be a journalist out to find some easy targets or a speaker with a new angle.'

Warwick shook his head. ‘I'm simply a fan,' he said.

‘That's rather rare,' Katherine said.

‘What?'

‘A man openly admitting he's an Austen fan.'

Warwick's eyes narrowed. ‘Isn't that a bit of a sexist remark?'

‘Not at all,' she said. ‘It's an honest one. It's usually women who are the ardent fans—who openly declare their love of the books. Men usually have some sort of an agenda.'

‘Really?'

‘Yes. In my experience.'

‘Then perhaps I'll change your mind,' Warwick said, ‘because I'm an ardent fan who isn't ashamed to shout it from the rooftops. Jane Austen is my favourite writer.'

‘And mine,' Katherine said.

Warwick nodded. He was thinking about the letters again and had the naughtiest of urges to steer the conversation towards his own books.

‘In fact,' Warwick said, ‘I was going to buy a replacement copy of
Sense and Sensibility
from the bookstall. Mine's falling apart.'

‘They have a bookstall?' Katherine's eyes lit up. ‘They've never had one before.'

‘It's by special demand, I hear.'

‘Then I think I may have to take a look,' she said.

Warwick led the way. The table had been set up in the corner of a small ground-floor room that was obviously a library.

‘Oh!' Katherine declared as soon as she entered. ‘Wonderful.'

Floor to ceiling shelves were all stuffed with books—a mesmeric sight to any reader—and Warwick and Katherine were instantly captivated.

‘What I'd give for a space like this for my books,' Katherine said.

‘I think my library's about this big,' Warwick said.

‘Really?' Katherine said.

Warwick frowned. He'd said too much.

‘What do you do? You didn't tell me.'

‘No,' he said. ‘I—er—collect. Old books.'

‘You're an antiquarian?'

He nodded.

‘Do you have any early Jane Austen editions?'

‘Oh, no,' he said. ‘They're few and far between.' He swallowed hard. Did he sound convincing?

‘Wouldn't it be amazing to have a first edition? Just imagine owning a first edition of
Pride and Prejudice
. What are the chances of getting one? Have you ever seen one? Are they horribly expensive?'

Warwick turned away. He was way out of his depth here. What on earth had made him say he collected books? ‘There we are!' he suddenly said, doing his best to divert Katherine's attention to the bookstall.

It worked.

‘I thought this room couldn't get any better,' Katherine said, making her way hastily towards the table on which was spread a vast number of books. As well as several different editions of the original six Austen titles, there were biographies, spin-offs, sequels, cookbooks, books about fashion, books about Hampshire, Lyme, Regis, and Bath and—Warwick was mightily relieved to see—row upon row of Lorna Warwick books.

Warwick watched Katherine's face to see if she'd noticed them. It would be impossible not to, of course, with their gorgeous jewel-coloured covers, but would she admit to being a fan at the Jane Austen Conference?

It was then that he noticed that the girl behind the table was flipping through one of the Lorna Warwick titles,
Mistress of Carston Abbey.
It was one of his raciest titles. Looking up, he caught her eye and she blushed, returning the book to the display.

‘Don't tell Aunt Pamela, but I can't stand Jane Austen,' she said. ‘But I love these!'

Warwick smiled. Because of his secret identity, he didn't get to meet fans of his books and it was a wonderfully strange feeling to hear from a real-life reader right in front of him.

‘And they're selling well?' he dared to ask.

‘Oh, yes! This one's doing well,' the girl said, pointing to the pile of
Wicked Lords and Ladies
. ‘But this one's outselling them all—even
Pride and Prejudice
.'

Warwick grinned. It was
The Wedding Scandal
. It was his bestselling title to date in the US and he was hoping that UK sales would follow. It was especially gratifying to hear that it was even outselling Austen's most popular title.

He looked around the room at the small crowd of people who were hovering there, wondering who had bought it. There must be a dozen or so people walking around with it in their handbags, he thought. Fans. He had fans there and they had no idea that their favourite author was walking amongst them. The thought made him smile.

‘Disgusting!'

Warwick was suddenly brought out of his smug little musings by this one word which had been spat out somewhere behind his left shoulder. He turned around to see the woman in the cerise jumper with the enormous bosom. She glared up at him, obviously not having forgotten or forgiven him for having apprehended Katherine before.

‘Whose idea was it to sell this tat at Purley? It's a disgrace!' the woman complained, her bosom heaving in consternation.

‘Just ignore her,' Katherine whispered to him conspiratorially. ‘She moans at anything and everything.'

‘But some people really think these titles have no business being here,' he said. ‘What do you think?'

‘Well, I…'

Katherine sounded hesitant. Would she admit to reading them? he wondered. She was there in her capacity as a lecturer from Oxford, after all. Would he gain a confession from her?

‘I have been known to read a few,' she whispered, adding a little giggle.

Warwick nodded. ‘I thought as much.'

‘Do you read them?' she asked.

‘Well…' Warwick paused. He hadn't expected her to ask him. ‘I suppose you could say that.' There, he thought. That wasn't lying, was it?

‘You do, don't you? You're a secret fan! I
knew
it!'

‘How?'

‘Just the way you were eyeing the covers. You should've seen your face. I bet you've got shelves of them at home.'

Warwick laughed.

‘You have, haven't you? I bet you love them just as much as I do.'

‘Then you're a fan?'

Katherine suddenly blushed. She obviously hadn't meant to say so much. ‘I'm really not meant to like this sort of book, you understand. I'd be horse-whipped from my college if anyone found out.'

‘I just can't understand book snobbery. It's something Jane Austen couldn't understand either, isn't it? She spoke out against it in
Northanger Abbey
.'

‘Yes!' Katherine said with feeling.

‘I mean, a novel displays “the liveliest effusions of wit and humour,”' he quoted.

Katherine nodded with great enthusiasm. ‘“Conveyed to the world in the best chosen language,”' she finished.

Warwick smiled. ‘And I agree.'

‘And so do I,' Katherine said.

They looked at each other and smiled. Warwick had done it. They were friends.