Christmas with Mr Darcy (an Austen Addicts story) Read online

  ‘Oh, darling! There isn’t room at your little cottage and I wouldn’t dare inflict him on poor Robyn!’

  ‘I’m looking forward to meeting him,’ Robyn said.

  Dame Pamela looked at her in alarm. ‘My dear girl – Benedict Harcourt isn’t someone you look forward to meeting. He’s somebody you look forward to leaving.’

  Robyn grinned. ‘Where does he live?’

  ‘York is the last I heard,’ Dame Pamela said.

  ‘Well, Yorkshire has five inches of snow already,’ Robyn pointed out, thinking of the county she used to call home. ‘Maybe he won’t be able to get here.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll get here all right. He’s probably going to try and spend the whole of the Christmas holidays here,’ Dame Pamela said with a sigh.

  ‘And New Year,’ Dan said. ‘He knows that New Year at Purley is too good to miss.’

  ‘Yes, the last one he spent here, he got through nine bottles of vintage champagne,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘Now, I really must talk to Higgins about this and see if there’s something we can do.’

  ‘Yes, like locking away all the silver!’ Dan said.

  ‘Don’t even joke about it!’ Dame Pamela said, leaving the room in hasty chase of her trusty butler.

  ‘Goodness!’ Robyn said. ‘I hope everything’s going to be okay. As if this threat of snow isn’t bad enough.’ She walked over to the window and peered up at the sepia-coloured sky.

  ‘Listen - you’re living in the south now, remember?’ Dan said. ‘The snow is much more civilized here.’

  ‘But we’ve had two cancellations already,’ Robyn pointed out.

  ‘Lightweights!’ he said. ‘Call themselves Austen fans?’

  ‘I’m really worried. I hope it isn’t going to be a washout.’

  ‘It won’t be,’ Dan said, placing his hands on her shoulders. ‘It’s going to be brilliant. It always is, isn’t it?’

  Robyn nodded. The Jane Austen conferences at Purley Hall were building in popularity and all the bed and breakfasts in the vicinity would be booked up months in advance and, the summer before, Dame Pamela had decided to convert the part of the stable block that Dan used to live in. Now, there were three beautiful ensuite bedrooms for guests who didn’t mind the smell of horses.

  Robyn had been in two minds about the conversion. On the one hand, she was delighted that the conferences were gaining more interest and she loved the role she played in organising everything alongside her new boss but she couldn’t help missing the little flat where her husband had once lived. It was a special part of their history and she felt sad that she could no longer walk up those wooden stairs and stand in the rooms where they’d shared so many special moments.

  But she knew that they were so lucky to have Horseshoe Cottage and she thanked her lucky stars every day for the good fortune that had brought her to Hampshire and to Dan.

  ‘We’d better get organised, then,’ Robyn said as she looked at the Queen Anne clock above the mantelpiece. ‘The first guests will be arriving soon.’

  Dan nodded. ‘And I’ve got to do something about that drunken angel.’

  Chapter 3

  After entrusting her two beloved cats, Freddie and Fitz, to her neighbour for the Christmas holidays, Katherine Roberts had left her Oxfordshire cottage and had joined Warwick Lawton at his home in West Sussex. She loved staying at the Georgian manor house with its huge sash windows and views out across the South Downs. The Old Vicarage was an imposing house and perfect for a writer of Regency romance with its lofty ceilings and pleasing Georgian symmetry. It reminded Katherine of Purley Hall – the home of Dame Pamela Harcourt - only The Old Vicarage was a far more modest property and perfectly suited to the life of a bachelor who didn’t really have time to worry about a bigger property.

  Katherine never tired of browsing through the miles and miles of bookshelves that seemed to line every wall in the house. The rooms were light and elegant and perfect for reading in but she couldn’t help redecorating a few of them in her mind. As she sat in the rather shabby armchairs that seemed to be placed by each of the windows of the house, she would often lower the book she was reading and gaze around her.

  Those curtains need replacing, she would think. That sofa needs re-upholstering and this rug has seen better days.

  Then she would check herself. This is not your house, she would say.

  Although Katherine never liked to miss one of Purley Hall’s conferences, she couldn’t help wishing that they were just going to have a quiet Christmas together at Warwick’s. They both led such busy lives and it wasn’t always easy to find time just to relax together. Katherine had a punishing timetable at St Bridget’s College in Oxford and, by the time one of them had travelled to stay with the other, the weekend seemed as if it was already over.

  Katherine sighed. Something was going to have to change at some point, she could see that, but what? They hadn’t talked much about their future together; they’d been happy enough to go from day to day but how long would that last? Would they want to live together and who would be the one to compromise?

  Warwick adored The Old Vicarage and Katherine couldn’t bear the thought of asking him to give it up and how would she feel if he refused? Equally, she hated the thought of leaving her little cottage in the Oxfordshire countryside. It was everything a cottage should be with its beams and sloping floors and bulging walls on which paintings would never hang straight but its tiny proportions weren’t made for two. Whenever Warwick stayed, he was always banging his head on the low beams and doorframes. Plus there was the fact that her job was in Oxford and she couldn’t give that up. She’d worked so hard for her place in academia and she couldn’t imagine leaving it.

  But she wasn’t going to worry herself about that now. They had the Christmas conference to look forward to. They were travelling together in Warwick’s Jaguar but it was a journey that worried Katherine.

  ‘Are you sure it’ll make it if it snows?’ she asked as she got into the car, winding a plum-coloured around her neck.

  ‘It isn’t going to snow,’ Warwick told her.

  Katherine looked out of the window and up into the slate-coloured sky. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Look, you might hold the doctorate in this relationship but I know about weather and – trust me – it isn’t going to snow,’ Warwick said.

  Forty minutes later, the first fine flakes of snow had started to fall from the heavens and Katherine glared at Warwick from the passenger seat.

  ‘We’ll be there in no time, don’t you worry,’ he said, picking up speed.

  Katherine was looking forward to visiting Purley Hall again although she wanted to be sure she got there in one piece. They’d revisited since they’d met at the Jane Austen conference because one of Warwick’s novels had been adapted into a film for television and part of it had been shot at Purley, and Katherine had given a talk at the October conference just two months ago.

  ‘Adam Craig’s going to be there, isn’t he?’ Katherine said, remembering the affable producer who had worked on the film.

  ‘He’s giving a talk about his adaptation of Persuasion.’

  ‘Wonderful!’ Katherine said. ‘I did love it. I thought Gemma Reilly was just perfect as Anne Elliot.’

  ‘Apparently, Gemma’s going to be there too!’ Warwick said.

  ‘Really? Did Dame Pamela tell you that?’

  Warwick nodded with a little smile. There hadn’t been an official programme sent out ahead of the special Christmas conference but, since Warwick’s novel had been filmed at Purley, he’d had a direct line to the owner and was privy to all sorts of information.

  ‘I can’t wait to see everyone again,’ Katherine said, knowing she could catch up with Robyn and Dan and see little Cassie, and she hoped that dear old Doris Norris would be there too. ‘Oh, God!’ she suddenly said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You don’t think Mrs Soames will be there, do you?’ she asked.

  ‘To spoil everyone’s Chri
stmas, you mean? Of course she’ll be there. She wouldn’t miss such a ripe opportunity as that,’ Warwick said with a laugh.

  ‘I hope you’re wrong!’ Katherine said, thinking of the run-ins she’d had with the odious woman in the past.

  ‘It’ll be funny actually staying there together again, won’t it? I mean, the last time,’ he paused, ‘well, it was the first time – for us.’

  Katherine felt herself blushing because she was remembering it too. ‘Yes, I met a real idiot there who ran his suitcase over my foot and spun some silly story about being an antiquarian.’

  ‘Hey! You’re the one who started that antiquarian business, not me!’ Warwick said.

  ‘Oh, and you were so quick to correct me, weren’t you, Lorna?’ Katherine said, giving him the tiniest of smiles.

  ‘You’re not still mad, are you?’ Warwick asked. When he’d first met Katherine, he hadn’t told her the complete truth about who he really was and it had got him into a lot of trouble.

  ‘No, of course I’m not mad,’ she said.

  ‘Good because that would make this weekend very difficult.’

  ‘Why?’ she asked.

  ‘Just because,’ he said.

  ‘Are you planning something?’

  ‘I couldn’t possibly say,’ he said, grinning to himself as he turned onto the main road and hit the accelerator.

  In a neat red-bricked Victorian house in a quiet backstreet of Winchester, just a stone’s throw away from Jane Austen’s resting place in the cathedral, Mia Castle was beside herself with worry.

  ‘I think I should take him with me,’ she told her sister, ‘or maybe not go at all.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Mia!’ Sarah told her. ‘Gabe is perfectly capable of looking after William on his own.’

  ‘I know he is.’

  ‘And you wouldn’t want to miss the chance to chat to Dame Pamela Harcourt, would you?’

  Mia grinned. ‘I can’t believe I’m going to stay at her house!’ For a moment, Mia thought about the time she’d attended an event with Dame Pamela at the Jane Austen Festival in Bath and how her friend, Shelley, had dared to tell the great actress that Mia wanted to be an actress too. Since leaving drama school, Mia still harboured those dreams deep inside herself but life had been a little more complicated than she’d anticipated and she’d found herself a single mother to young William and had had to put her dreams on hold.

  ‘And you left Will to go to the Jane Austen Festival in Bath, didn’t you?’ Sarah reminded her.

  ‘Yes but that wasn’t for so long,’ Mia said, tying her long dark hair back into a pony tail.

  ‘You’ll be back with him in no time at all,’ Sarah said, ‘besides, you can’t go all the way to Bath now to pick up Will because we’d be late for the conference and you know how much I hate being late.’

  Mia knew only too well. Her sister, Sarah, suffered from OCD – Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - which gave her innumerable quirks such as not being able to watch a programme on television if the credits had already started rolling before she’d sat down; she had to be there at the very beginning of things otherwise it would be spoilt and she wouldn’t be able to settle.

  The Christmas conference would be the first they’d attended at Purley Hall and they were both looking forward to it. They’d just been reunited at the Jane Austen Festival in Bath after three years apart from each other. Mia was living there now with her architect partner, Gabe, and her two-year old son, William. His full name was William Fitz – in honour of Fitzwilliam Darcy. When she’d found out she was having a boy, she’d debated calling him Fitzwilliam but had decided that it would probably be a cruel thing to do to a modern child.

  ‘Anyway, I think Gabe’s going to really appreciate some time alone with William. You’ve seen how well they’ve bonded. They’re going to love their time together,’ Sarah said.

  ‘You make it sound like I won’t be missed at all!’ Mia said with a pout.

  ‘You know what I mean!’ Sarah said, ruffling her younger sister’s hair.

  ‘It’s a shame Lloyd isn’t coming with us,’ Mia said, thinking of her brother-in-law to be.

  ‘I know. He really wanted to but that job up in Scotland was too good to miss,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I adored his photos of the Jane Austen Festival in Vive!,’ Mia said.

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah said. ‘He seems to tolerate my Austen addiction really well.’

  ‘You surely wouldn’t be thinking of marrying a man who didn’t like Jane Austen, would you?’ Mia teased.

  Sarah shook her head. She’d been married once before and it had caused a split between her and her sister. A split she never wanted to experience again because she loved her sister more than life itself.

  ‘Lloyd understands you so well,’ Mia continued.

  ‘I’m lucky to have found him,’ Sarah said as she straightened a tablecloth that really didn’t need straightening. ‘Now, help me tidy this place up before we leave.’

  ‘Tidy what? It’s immaculate already!’ Mia said, knowing that her sister wouldn’t be happy until everything had been vacuumed yet again and every cushion and curtain had been plumped and straightened.

  ‘We’re not going until it’s absolutely right,’ Sarah said.

  Mia smiled at her sister, knowing that her Jane Austen weekend wasn’t going to start until everything was perfect.

  Kay Ashton looked out of her bedroom window at Wentworth House in Lyme Regis and gazed out at the grey sea. She loved the Dorset coast in winter. It had a bleak beauty about it that might not appeal to everybody but Kay adored it.

  Winter was a quiet time for Kay. The holiday-makers had long gone and running the bed and breakfast took a back seat which meant that Kay could dedicate herself to her true passion: painting.

  Kay had always painted. She loved the freedom that a brush allowed and, after putting together a series of Austen-inspired paintings for two books called The Illustrated Darcy and The Illustrated Wentworth which was going to be published by a small London publisher, Kay had turned to her beloved Dorset and was concentrating on landscapes. But she didn’t have time for any painting now. She had to pack because Adam would be arriving at any moment. He’d persuaded her to shut the bed and breakfast over the Christmas period. It was usually a quiet time anyway and he’d told Kay that she needed a break – a good break.

  Turning around to face the clothes she’d laid out on the bed, she smiled as she remembered him telling her about Purley Hall. Adam was a screenwriter and film producer and he’d recently filmed an adaptation of a Lorna Warwick novel at the Georgian manor house in Hampshire and had fallen in love with the place and was desperate to share it with her.

  ‘You’ll love it!’ he’d enthused. But what Kay loved more was the idea of a Jane Austen conference. She’d never heard of anything like it before. A conference dedicated to Jane Austen – how marvellous was that?

  She was just reaching for her sketchpad when she heard the door opening downstairs.

  ‘Kay?’

  ‘I’m upstairs, Adam.’

  She heard him take the stairs two at a time and he was in the room before she could draw breath, taking her in his arms and kissing her.

  ‘How are you?’ he said at last.

  ‘Thoroughly kissed!’ she said with a little laugh.

  ‘I always like to start as I mean to go on,’ he said. He was wearing a thick wool jumper in chocolate brown that only had a couple of ginger cat hairs on it.

  ‘Did you take Sir Walter round to Nana’s?’ she asked, running her fingers through his short dark hair.

  ‘Yes,’ Adam said, ‘although he was a devil to get into the basket. I think he knew what was coming.’

  ‘Oh, he’ll be spoilt rotten there,’ Kay said. ‘Your nana always gives him the best of everything.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I only wish she could come with us.’

  ‘Nana Craig would not like that!’ Kay said.

  ‘Why not?’ he asked, pushing h
is glasses up his nose.

  ‘Because there will be actors there, of course!’

  ‘Ah, yes!’ Adam said with a little laugh. His dear old nana had detested actors ever since her husband had run off with an actress several decades ago. She’d never trusted them and had been mightily relieved when Adam had become involved with Kay and not that Gemma Reilly actress woman who had been hanging around Lyme Regis during the filming of the recent adaptation of Persuasion.

  ‘It will be so lovely to see Gemma again,’ Kay said.

  Adam nodded. ‘Just as long as you’re not going to try and match-make me and her again!’

  ‘Oh, Adam!’ Kay said with a smile. ‘That was nothing more than a little mistake.’ She encircled her arms around his waist and kissed him. ‘I should have known that there was no other woman for you but me.’

  Chapter 4

  Later that afternoon, the entrance hall of Purley was filled with excited chatter as the guests arrived and everybody stood in line to be allocated their rooms. Old friends greeted each other with screams of joy and warm embraces, and Robyn and Dan handed out keys and pointed people in the right direction.

  ‘Oh, just look at that tree!’ Doris Norris said, her pale eyes shining brightly as she gazed up into its branches. ‘But isn’t that angel a bit-’ she paused and cocked her head to one side.

  ‘What?’ Robyn asked her.

  ‘Skewiff?’

  Robyn sighed and caught Dan’s eye.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘The angel’s drunk again,’ she said

  Doris Norris giggled. ‘She’s not the only one,’ she said. ‘I had a little glass of sherry before I came out to warm me up and I think it’s gone right to my head!’

  Robyn linked arms with her. ‘Then we’ll get you straight to your room so you can have a nice rest before the welcome reception.’

  ‘Excuse me!’ a voice suddenly boomed from behind Robyn and she turned to come face to face with her old adversary.

  ‘Can I help you, Mrs Soames?’