Chapter Nine

The Cedar Room was absolutely perfect and Robyn fell immediately in love with it, rushing over to the great sash window in excitement and sighing like a lovelorn heroine at the view that greeted her. The perfect emerald lawn stretched away before her and the cedar tree stood sentinellike to her right.

She looked at the double bed and couldn’t help feeling guilty that it was for her and her alone and that Jace would be sleeping on his own but that certainly wasn’t her fault. She hadn’t asked him to chauffeur her to and from the conference, had she? It was his fault if he was going to be stuck in a bed and breakfast, bored out of his mind for the next few days. Robyn was quite determined that he wasn’t going to ruin her weekend. She’d looked forward to it for so long.

Flinging open her suitcase and finding her hairbrush, she entered the bathroom and did a quick repair job on her travel-worn tresses. She’d worn her hair long all her life and couldn’t imagine it being any other way. It was much admired and Jace loved it but it did take some upkeep and Robyn often wondered what life would be like with a nice neat bob.

Emptying her handbag of everything she didn’t need -which included two paperbacks and a bumper packet of mint humbugs, she left her room.

She was halfway down the grand staircase when she caught the eye of Katherine in the hall.

‘Robyn!’ she called. ‘Come and sit with me.’

Robyn joined her in the hall and Katherine linked her arm through hers.

‘Now, we’re just like a pair of Austen heroines, aren’t we?’ she said.

Robyn smiled and the two of them walked into the room at the back of the house known as the Yellow Drawing Room. It was filled with mellow afternoon light and the windows looked out over the gardens down to the lake.

‘I have this view from my window,’ Katherine boasted.

‘It’s so beautiful here,’ Robyn said. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.’

‘I know,’ Katherine said. ‘I always feel like that too. It’s part of the magic of the conference. They know you’ll be back year after year. It gets a hold of you and never lets you go.’

There were three enormous sofas in the room and lots of armchairs in brilliant colours and, filling in the gaps, some wooden chairs had been placed in order to accommodate all the guests.

‘How many people are here?’ Robyn asked.

‘There’s usually twenty to thirty but not everyone stays in the hall. There are only enough rooms for about eighteen. Everyone else stays in nearby B&Bs.’

Robyn swallowed as she thought of Jace again. She wished she could stop doing that.

‘Let’s get a cup of tea,’ Katherine said, bringing Robyn back into the Austensian world of Purley that was filled with china tea cups rather than the Jace world which was filled with beer cans.

Taking a cup of tea and a piece of sugary shortbread, they sat on a big squashy sofa the colour of lemons.

‘Hey, there’s that man again,’ Robyn said, nodding towards the door as the dark-haired gentleman walked in.

‘Oh,’ Katherine said.

‘He is very handsome, don’t you think?’

‘He’s very clumsy,’ Katherine replied, turning away.

Robyn smiled. She could feel a romance coming on, she was quite sure of it. ‘He’s so fit-looking,’ she persisted. ‘But not in that awful I-spend-all-my-time-in-a-gym way. He looks more like an athlete or something. Nice shirt too, don’t you think?’

‘I’m doing my best not to think about him,’ Katherine said.

It was just as Robyn was contemplating an Austen-style declaration of love from the dark-haired gentleman to her new friend when a gentleman in a scarlet waistcoat entered the room, standing in front of the window and clearing his throat and instantly hushing the room.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to welcome you to Purley Hall and to the Jane Austen conference. Please put your hands together to welcome your hostess, Dame Pamela Harcourt!’

A wondrous expectant hush befell the room which was quickly followed by a riotous round of applause as all eyes turned to the door as the actress made her entrance.

Robyn felt a strange fluttery feeling in her chest. She was actually rather nervous. She’d been a fan of Dame Pamela’s for years. In her youth, she had played an enchanting Elizabeth Bennet and a dazzlingly wild Marianne in TV adaptations, and now she struck terror into the heart of viewers with her portrayals of Fanny Ferrars Dashwood and Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Robyn’s head swivelled towards the door and her mouth dropped open as Dame Pamela made her entrance in a sweep of lilac. Her silvery hair had been swept up in a full meringuelike style that was pure theatre and her smile radiated warmth and pleasure at being the centre of attention.

‘My dears!’ she announced, her hands raised and sparkly with diamond rings. ‘My wonderful guests! Welcome to my home which, for this all-too-brief space of time, is your home too. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to this weekend every year, and each year is invariably better than the last so welcome to the best ever Jane Austen conference yet!’

There was another round of applause and Dame Pamela smiled and began to mingle.

Warwick didn’t stay for the mingling.

Idiot! Imbecile! Stupid, stupid man!

He didn’t spare the curses as he left the Yellow Drawing Room. What had got into him? Hadn’t he been going to recreate the role of hero and stride across the room to introduce himself to Katherine? So what had happened? Well, once he’d caught sight of her again, he’d frozen. For ages, he’d gazed at the beautiful curve of her neck which, as her hair was still swept up into a bun, had been left exposed for the express purpose of tormenting men. Then she’d turned round and caught him staring.

Like a ridiculous schoolboy! he said to himself, leaving the scene of his crime and flying up the stairs as fast as he could. What must she think of me? She must think I’m a prat to be avoided at all costs and I’ve not even spoken to her yet.

Reaching his room, he slammed the door behind him. What was he going to do? What would a hero do? he thought. What would Darcy do? Write a letter, probably, but he couldn’t do that. For one thing, Katherine would recognize his handwriting. Anyway, there wasn’t time.

He could try explaining himself but what was there to explain? That he was some sort of neck pervert? She’d have him arrested. No, there was only one way to deal with this and that was to pretend that the whole staring thing hadn’t happened at all. Rather like Mrs Bennet’s sudden memory lapse at the bad behaviour of Lydia once she found out that her daughter was married.

Yes, he thought, the new improved Warwick would banish any bad memories of the old one.

Dinner at Purley Hall was always something to look forward to and Robyn’s first experience was sending her spinning with excitement as she rushed from suitcase to wardrobe in search of the dress she was going to wear. It was a plain sky-blue dress with only a hint of bugle beads along the neckline and it was rather short for Robyn - just skimming the knees instead of covering her ankles.

She felt rather on show as she made her way down the stairs, very aware of the bareness of her legs, but then she saw the familiar face of Katherine and her nod of approval put her mind at rest. Katherine was wearing a pretty dress in burgundy. Her hair had been unpinned and fell over her shoulders in dark waves.

‘You look lovely,’ Robyn said.

‘So do you!’

‘I don’t often get the chance to dress up at home,’ Robyn said. ‘This is rather special.’

‘It’s one of the things to look forward to here.’

Robyn noticed that the dining room door was open but people were chatting in groups in the hall before entering.

‘We’re waiting for the dame,’ Katherine told her.

Sure enough, a moment later, a hush descended and all eyes turned upwards towards the cantilevered staircase. It really was the staircase of an actress, Robyn thought, and an actress who knew how to make an entrance for, as the grandfather clock in the hall struck the half hour, a vision in violet greeted them.

Dame Pamela was a sight to behold at the best of times but tonight she was part superstar, part royalty, in a dress of deepest purple which wafted dreamily behind her and a diamond necklace which encrusted the whole of her neck so that it seemed to be made more of diamonds than of skin.

As was becoming the practice whenever Dame Pamela made an appearance, everybody burst into applause which had the effect of lighting up her face like the most enchanting of queens. She took the arm of a gentleman wearing a suit of midnight blue, and the two of them led the way into the dining room.

As Robyn entered, her eyes lit up - the room was a delight of chandeliers and candles. To be as authentic as possible to Jane Austen, electricity had been shunned and the result was greeted by appreciative gasps from the guests as they entered. It was a room that seemed to stretch forever and Robyn felt that she needed at least three pairs of eyes in her head to take it all in. The walls were cream with ornate gold plasterwork around the ceiling which glimmered in the light from the candles. There was an impressive fireplace which hadn’t been lit owing to the continued warmth of the season but which Robyn could imagine being the very heart of the house when it was alive and roaring, filling the room with the unmistakable smell of home.

Several grand portraits lined the walls, the pale faces gazing down at the guests with the passivity that is so particular to the painted form. Robyn wondered who they were and how long they had been staring down from these walls. Were they ancestors of Dame Pamela or had she bought them as part of the house when she’d moved to Purley?

With a dozen questions swimming around her head, seats were taken and Robyn’s gaze fell to the beautiful table settings, the flower displays and the silverware. It certainly beat beans on toast on the sofa in front of the television in her little terrace, she thought, as she gazed at the vases of pink and white roses which lined the table.

White plates and bowls sat in front of the guests and two beautiful crystal glasses waited to be filled. It was all so sumptuous that Robyn was almost afraid to touch anything. She was so used to her old scratched dinner plates and her sturdy pottery mug.

‘I wonder if we’ll see our friend,’ Robyn said, eyeing up the other guests up and down the length of the great table.

‘Who’s that?’

‘The gentleman who likes staring at you so much,’ Robyn said.

‘I don’t think you can call such a man a gentleman,’ Katherine said. ‘If you looked up the word gentleman in the dictionary there’d be a picture of him - with a great red cross through it.’

Robyn laughed.

‘And, if you really want to know where he is, he’s over there.’

Robyn looked at the end of the table and saw the dark-haired man. ‘I wonder why he hasn’t introduced himself yet.’

‘I’m hoping he’s too embarrassed,’ Katherine said. ‘I can quite do without such complications, anyway.’

Robyn’s eyes widened at this declaration and she waited, hoping that she might say more but she didn’t and the moment passed as the starters were served.

It was when they were halfway through dinner that things began to get interesting. Robyn was just finishing her last mouthful of pavlova when a gentleman entered the room and quietly made his way to the head of the table. He was tall and his coppery blond hair flopped over his face in the kind of manner that suggested he wasn’t a part of the conference. He was wearing a loose shirt, dirt-encrusted trousers and a pair of boots, and Robyn recognized him at once. It was the handsome man on horseback she’d seen in the lane at Steventon. She watched as he approached Dame Pamela and whispered something in her ear. She made to get up out of her seat but the man placed a tanned hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

What was that about? Robyn wondered. Did the man work at Purley for Dame Pamela or maybe he was her latest toy boy? It was a well-known fact that the dame liked her men a lot younger than herself and he was certainly handsome. Nobody could blame her if this was the latest handsome young man she’d chosen to help her learn her lines.

Robyn watched as the man made to leave the room, his coppery hair catching the light of the candles and giving it the look of a halo.

She tutted at herself. Honestly, what was she thinking of and why was she looking at his bottom? What would Jane Austen have made of such brazenness? She’d probably have laughed her head off and then written everything down so as not to forget anything, Robyn thought, quite sure that the author would have eyed up enough men’s bottoms in her time, the same as any other red-blooded woman. Especially in the fashions of her time. It was absolutely wicked but great fun to imagine the young author dreaming of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Captain Wentworth and what they might look like in their breeches. Wasn’t that a big part of why the film and television adaptations were so successful - because of the fine display of men’s bottoms?

Robyn felt herself blushing and cursed her girlishness. She knew her whole face had a tendency to flame scarlet rather than colour her cheeks a subtle shade of pink and it was most embarrassing. She looked down at her lap for a moment, feeling the colour ebbing away before she dared to look up at the handsome young man again. She loved the way he walked the length of the room with such easy strides. He had that wonderful grace that comes from riding a horse well.

But Robyn was soon distracted from her quiet admiration because, when he opened the door to leave, it almost crashed into his face as a second man stumbled into the room.

‘Oh my God!’ Robyn said, her mouth dropping open in horror. It was Jace.

A sudden hush fell over the dining room as thirty pairs of eyes swivelled in the direction of the door as the dishevelled man crashed into a chair, sending its occupant sprawling across the table.

Robyn’s blush returned with a vengeance as she watched the scene unfolding.

‘Where’s my gal?’ Jace announced, looking up and tripping over his own feet as he tried to move forward.

‘Excuse me!’ a voice boomed. It was the man in the scarlet waistcoat whom Robyn thought of as the master of ceremonies.

‘What?’ Jace said, standing back up to full height and swaying like a reed in the wind.

‘Who are you and what are you doing here?’

‘Jace, mate. Who the hell are you?’

There was a collective gasp of horror from around the table at this rude interruption and Robyn wanted to slide quietly under it until it was all over but it was too late to do anything because Jace had spotted her.

‘There’s my darlin’! There’s my Robbie!’

‘Robyn?’ Katherine asked. ‘Is he yours?’

‘No,’ Robyn said. ‘I mean yes. Kind of.’

Katherine looked confused and Robyn swallowed hard as she realized that the whole room was now looking at her.

‘Really!’ the master of ceremonies said. ‘I must ask you to leave. This is a private function.’

‘Get your hands off me. I’m here to see my gal.’ Jace stumbled and swayed across the room, catching hold of the table in front of him as he reached Robyn. ‘Babes!’ he said. ‘I was worried about you. Your phone must be broken.’

‘It’s not broken, Jace,’ Robyn said in a whisper, hoping he’d lower his voice to match her own.

‘I had to come and see you - make sure you were all right.’

Robyn stood up. ‘You shouldn’t be here!’

‘I was bored!’ he whined. ‘I’m stuck in that bloody B&B by myself.’

Again, there were more gasps and mutterings from the guests at the intruder’s ripe language.

‘I told you not to come.’

‘Aw, babes!’ he said, making an attempt to hug her but she swerved out of the way. ‘Don’t be like that.’

‘You should have stayed at home!’ Robyn said, anger raising her voice. ‘This isn’t the place for you.’

‘Come with me,’ he said, grabbing her wrist.

‘You’re hurting me.’

‘What do you want to be with all these stiffs for when you could be having fun with me?’

‘Jace!’

‘Hey! Leave her alone.’ Somebody had stepped in between them and calmly but firmly pushed Jace away from Robyn. It was the handsome man on horseback. ‘I think you’d better leave. That’s your taxi outside, right?’

Jace’s face had turned purple with rage. ‘You’re that toff whose horse kicked my car!’

Robyn shook her head. ‘It didn’t kick your car, Jace.’

‘You are, aren’t you? Is that why you’re here?’ Jace asked, peering round the man to look at Robyn and almost toppling over in the process.

‘What are you talking about?’ Robyn said.

‘I know you women - you don’t care who the man is as long as he’s on a bloody horse. Put Jabba the bloody Hutt on a horse and you’d all be swooning over him!’

‘Jace, you need to lie down.’

‘Let’s get you into that taxi,’ the man said.

‘But I want to stay!’ Jace cried, shaking the man’s hand off him.

‘No, you don’t. We’ll be watching a film later,’ Robyn said. ‘You’ll be bored out of your mind if you stay.’

‘What - a film with one of those infernal dance scenes?’

‘Exactly,’ Robyn said.

Jace seemed to be considering this for a moment and, finally, he saw sense. ‘When will I see you?’

‘I’ll give you a call in the morning, okay?’

Jace nodded. He looked like he was about to fall asleep or maybe just fall.

‘Let’s get you into that taxi,’ the man said again.

‘Waitwaitwait,’ Jace said, bending forward and grabbing hold of Robyn, placing a slobbery kiss on her mouth before leaving the room.

Robyn sank back down in her chair.

‘You okay?’ Katherine asked as everyone around the table started whispering to one another, desperately trying to find out what was going on.

‘That was terrible,’ Robyn said. ‘Everyone’s looking at me.’

‘No they’re not.’

‘I think I’d like to leave.’

Katherine nodded. ‘I’ll come with you.’

The two of them left the dining room and Robyn breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thanks for not asking too many questions,’ she said.

Katherine smiled. ‘If you want to talk about it, I’m here. If not, no problem.’

‘I appreciate that.’

They walked up the stairs together.

‘If only life were more like fiction,’ Robyn said as they reached the top of the stairs.

‘I’m always thinking exactly the same thing,’ Katherine said. ‘It’s the curse of the voracious reader that reality never quite matches up to the fiction we read.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Robyn said. ‘Jane Austen has a lot to answer for, doesn’t she?’

Katherine nodded. ‘But that doesn’t mean we can’t live in hope of a happy ending of our own.’

Robyn sighed. ‘It’s just that it sometimes seems a very long time in getting here.’

They reached their bedroom doors and Katherine smiled at Robyn. ‘You’ll come back downstairs for the film, won’t you?’ Robyn looked lost in thought for a moment, as if she couldn’t quite place where she was or who was speaking to her. Finally, she nodded.

‘Good,’ Katherine said, checking her watch. ‘Shall I knock for you?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Robyn said. ‘I’ll see you down there.’

‘I must say, I was tempted to watch Sense and Sensibility for the hundredth time but I’ve decided to wallow in Persuasion’ Katherine said. ‘What about you?’

Since the upset with Jace, Robyn hadn’t had time to think of the evening ahead. Although she preferred Persuasion as a story, she really couldn’t cope with it tonight. The scene when Anne Elliot realizes that she and her onetime lover, Frederick, are like strangers - worse than strangers because they can never now become acquainted - always brought tears to Robyn’s eyes and would be just enough to tip her over the edge in front of everybody.

‘It was perpetual estrangement.’ That line always got Robyn. That was the lump-in-the-throat moment and, if she was ever watching the film in company, a sly finger would dab at the tear ducts and a long soft sniff would try to hide the sadness in her heart.

Perpetual estrangement, Robyn thought. Wasn’t that exactly what she wanted from Jace?

Получить полную версию книги можно по ссылке - Здесь

Разделы библиотеки

Любовные романы Любовные романы по темам Любовные романы по автору Современные любовные романы Исторические любовные романы Женские фильмы КулинарияСекреты красотыСонник

Страницы романа:Стр:7

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

0

/ 0 Гол.

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10