Christmas With Mr Darcy (2 page)

‘Liar!’ he said. ‘You’ve come to see the tree.’

‘Well, that too,’ she said with a smile. ‘It looks wonderful!’ The lights had been turned on and were twinkling amongst the dark branches and the gold, red and green baubles shone brightly.

‘It does, doesn’t it?’ Dan said, ‘only I can’t seem to get this angel straight.’

Robyn cocked her head to one side. ‘She does look as if she’s had one glass of mulled wine too many.’

Dan nodded. ‘But at least this little angel looks perfect!’ he said, bending down to kiss his daughter’s pink cheek before kissing Robyn fully on the mouth. ‘Had a good morning?’

‘We have. I’ve finished all the Christmas cards at last. They’re going to be horribly late but that can’t be helped.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, removing the tweed cap from her head and running his fingers through her blonde curls. ‘You’ve been so tied up with all this conference stuff, I’m sure people will understand.’

‘I hope so. I feel awful about it.’

‘You worry too much,’ Dan said. ‘You’ve got to relax more.’

Robyn nodded. ‘I guess,’ she said. ‘Where’s Pammy? I thought she’d be decorating the tree with you.’

‘Ah!’ Dan said.

‘What?’

‘She’s trying to avoid a catastrophe.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It seems we’ll be having an extra guest for Christmas.’

‘Really? Who?’

‘Benedict.’

‘Your brother?’

‘One of them,’ Dan said. He actually had more brothers than he could keep track of but none of them really kept in touch – they were all so busy leading their own lives with their own families. ‘I can’t help thinking it would be so much easier if it was any one of them other than Benedict.’

Robyn frowned. ‘You’ve never really told me much about your brothers,’ she said.

‘And with good reason.’

‘So tell me now,’ she said.

Dan sighed. ‘Benedict is trouble,’ he said. ‘He’s always in some fix or other and expects Pammy to rescue him.’

‘And does she?’

‘Well, she has in the past but it’s cost her dearly and he never seems to learn his lesson.’

‘What does he do – gamble?’

‘Not gambling as such – he’s more into risky business ventures that he’s convinced will make him a millionaire only they tend to go wrong and he ends up in debt.’

‘Oh, dear.’ For a moment, Robyn remembered one of Jane Austen’s brothers, Henry, who had become bankrupt.

‘So, he’s probably the last person Pammy wants turning up just as she’s hosting a Jane Austen conference,’ Dan said.

Just then, Dame Pamela entered the hallway. ‘Robyn!’ she cried. ‘I thought you were having the morning off.’

‘I am. I just couldn’t resist taking a peek at the tree.’

‘Isn’t it splendid?’ Dame Pamela enthused.

‘Yes,’ Robyn said. ‘I’m so glad we went for traditional colours in the end.’

‘Me too,’ Dame Pamela said, ‘although perhaps we could try pink and purple next Christmas.’

Dan rolled his eyes at the pair of them.

‘And how is my adorable niece?’ Dame Pamela asked, taking Cassie from Robyn and kissing her forehead.

‘Did you speak to Benedict?’ Dan asked.

‘I can’t get hold of him,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘He’s not answering his mobile.’

‘Of course he isn’t,’ Dan said, ‘because he knows you’d try to stop him coming here.’

‘What are we going to do?’

‘I don’t think there’s a lot we can do,’ Dan said.

‘But he can’t stay here,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘I mean we’ve got room but it just wouldn’t work with the conference on. He’s bound to cause trouble of some sort – he always does!’

‘He can stay at ours if you prefer,’ Dan said.

‘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 Christmas, 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.