‘Not that I don’t want to be an independent woman,’ Shelley would say, ‘but I’d be quite happy for the man in my life to own an estate like Pemberley.’
Mia had agreed wholeheartedly. Fine country estates had to be owned by somebody, so why shouldn’t they belong to the men they would one day date? But a Fitzwilliam Darcy or a Henry Tilney had yet to make an appearance on the horizon, and both Mia and Shelley had to get their fix from fiction rather than real life.
Mia wondered what had been going on in her friend’s life. They’d talked so little over the last few years, and Mia realized that much had changed between them. Perhaps the next few days would make amends and they’d open up to one another.
Shelley had known that something was wrong straightaway, hadn’t she? And Mia realized that her friend probably wouldn’t let the matter drop until she got to the bottom of things. And here she was thinking she could leave all her problems behind her in London. She didn’t want them following her to Bath, but you took your problems with you wherever you went. A beautiful place didn’t have magical qualities that vanquished all your troubles. Even if Mia were to find herself whisked into the very heart of Pemberley, she’d still have to deal with the problems she accumulated in her life. She couldn’t just shut them out.
‘I know I can’t,’ she whispered into the darkness of the room, ‘but let me forget about them for a little while, at least.’
Tomorrow was the promenade and the official beginning of the Jane Austen Festival. It was always a day to look forward to, and Mia had no intentions of her past clouding over such a day, so she closed her eyes, quite determined to dream of frivolous things, like girls in bright bonnets and men in tight breeches.
Chapter 10
The day of the promenade dawned, and as the clouds cleared, the sun got brighter and brighter, making the honey-colored stone of the houses of Bath glow with warmth.
As Sarah stood looking out of the window down onto the street below, she couldn’t help feeling excited about the morning ahead. She hadn’t slept very well, but that was normal when she was in a strange place. At one point, she got out of bed and sat in a little chair with a lamp on, reading a few chapters from Northanger Abbey. Sarah loved the line ‘Catherine felt herself in high luck’ from chapter three, and she hoped that some of that luck might come her way. She felt ready for it. The past few years had been rather luckless, but Bath was a magical place where anything could happen. It was where Catherine Morland had met Henry Tilney, and it was where Captain Wentworth had declared his love to Anne Elliot.
Sarah had gone down to breakfast in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt but was now in full Regency splendor; her white muslin dress trimmed with burgundy looked serenely understated and elegant and was very much Sarah. She loved the neatness and grace of fashion in Jane Austen’s time and often wished that fashion would forgo the graceless jeans and trainers of the twenty-first century and return to a time when women flitted around in pretty dresses and weren’t afraid to be feminine.
She had removed all vestiges of her modern self, from the gold digital watch to the contact lenses she wore. Even though the items would never be noticed, Sarah liked to do things properly, although her hair was sporting a color that probably hadn’t been available in Regency England. She looked in the mirror, thinking that the color looked natural enough, tucked neatly under her bonnet.
Leaving her hotel, Sarah walked out onto the street and felt conspicuous in her costume, for she was the only one she could see who was wearing such an outfit. An awful horror struck her. What if she’d got the date wrong? What if she’d arrived in Bath a week early? But that could never happen to somebody like Sarah, who planned every day down to the last minute in it.
Sure enough, when she approached the bridge into town, she saw a young couple ahead of her, both in Regency costume. How happy they looked together, their arms intertwined. Once again, Sarah felt the full weight of being on her own. She liked to think of herself as an independent woman. She was happy being her own boss, and she didn’t feel that she needed anybody to tell her what to do in life, but it was at times like this, when a companion made all the difference. She thought about Jane Austen’s novels and how most of her heroines had confidantes. Elinor had Marianne; Elizabeth had Jane and Charlotte; and Catherine Morland had Isabella, who may not have been the most trustworthy of companions, but she’d been a companion nevertheless. Walking through the streets of Bath on her own, though, Sarah felt more like Anne Elliot, for she had never quite been a part of things, but always hovered on the outskirts of companionship. Even Anne’s relationship with Lady Russell had been wanting, for she could never tell her mentor her true feelings.
‘But Anne got her happy ending,’ Sarah told herself, ‘right here in Bath too. She had to wait for it, but it came.’
With a feeling of optimism, Sarah took a deep breath and headed into the heart of the city.
***
‘Mia! Have you seen my bonnet?’ Shelley shouted from the hallway. As Mia walked out of her bedroom to look down the stairs, she couldn’t help thinking that it wasn’t often you’d hear such a question in twenty-first-century life.
‘Wasn’t it on your mannequin?’
‘Lady Catherine? Yes, but it isn’t there now,’ Shelley said. ‘My goodness—if Bingley has got hold of it, I swear he’ll be sent to the dogs’ home before the end of the day.’
Mia hunted the missing bonnet upstairs, but it wasn’t in any of the rooms. ‘It’s not upstairs,’ Mia called as she joined Shelley in the kitchen.
‘I can’t go without my bonnet,’ Shelley said. ‘I’ve been looking forward to wearing it all year.’ She was buzzing around the kitchen looking under tables and chairs, when Pie entered the room.
‘Oh, Pie—you’ve got my bonnet,’ Shelley said.
He muttered something and handed it to her.
‘What did he say?’ Mia asked as he left the room.
‘I have absolutely no idea.’
‘Maybe he’s a secret cross-dresser with a fetish for Austensian bonnets,’ Mia said, and they both giggled.
At that precise moment, Bingley crashed into the room like a cannonball, careening into Shelley at full speed.
‘Bingley!’ she shouted. ‘Must you do that?’
Mia laughed.
‘Lord Almighty! Why can’t he simply walk into a room? He always has to be firing on all cylinders.’
‘He’s adorable,’ Mia said, giving him a pat on his chestnut head. He looked up at her and must have decided that Mia wanted to get to know him better, because before she knew what was happening, his front paws had left the ground and had been placed on Mia’s shoulders.
‘Nooooooooo!’ Shelley cried out on Mia’s behalf. Mia took a step back, and Bingley collapsed to the ground. ‘Oh, your dress!’ Shelley said, stepping forward to examine it for damage.
‘It’s okay, I think,’ Mia said.
‘Yes, apart from one great dirty paw print on your left shoulder.’ She maneuvered her friend toward the sink and started dabbing at her with a damp cloth. ‘I’m so sorry! That dog is a thorough nuisance. I can’t think why I got him. Only last week, he ate my entire lasagna, and the week before that, he completely destroyed my limited edition Captain Wentworth cushion.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean to,’ Mia said, ‘and don’t worry about my dress. I think Elizabeth Bennet might very well have sported a paw print on her shoulder, don’t you think?’
Shelley grimaced, not looking convinced. ‘How about a shawl?’
Mia nodded. The shawl was the epitome of Austen heroine elegance and was very handy for accidentally dropping, if one saw a handsome hero to pick it up.
Shelley disappeared upstairs and returned with a pretty sky-blue shawl that matched the trim of Mia’s dress perfectly. She draped it over her friend’s shoulders, covering up the offending paw print.
‘We’d better get going,’ Mia said, and Shelley nodded.
‘Bonnets at the ready?
’
Mia smiled. ‘Oh, yes.’
They left the house, their tiny purses hooked over their arms and hiding all manner of modern necessities, like lip glosses and mobile phones. Shelley was also holding a pretty white parasol, which she’d told Mia was for fighting off any potential rivals, if there was a real-life Mr Darcy at the promenade, rather than for shielding herself from the sun.
‘Are you sure Pie’s all right giving us a lift into town?’ Mia asked.
‘It’s the least he can do, after all the tidying up I do after him,’ Shelley said. ‘But he’ll have to get a move on, if we’re going to be on time.’ She turned back to look at the house, but there was no sign of Pie.
‘Oh, look—there’s Gabe!’ Shelley said, waving her parasol in the air at him.
‘Hello,’ he said from his front door. ‘I wish I had a hat to tip. You look splendid—both of you! Off to promenade the streets?’
‘Of course,’ Shelley said. ‘Oh, won’t you come too, Gabe? You’d look fabulous in costume. Wouldn’t he, Mia?’
Mia glanced at him quickly. ‘Any man looks good in costume,’ she said, and then bit her lip. She had sounded very rude, and she hadn’t meant to.
‘And what about my arm?’ Gabe said, tapping his sling.
‘You could be Horatio Nelson,’ Shelley said, suddenly inspired. ‘Now there’s a real hero for you.’
‘But wouldn’t I have to lose an eye as well?’ Gabe said with a laugh.
Mia smiled at his comment and noticed that he was looking at her. What was his problem? Had he never seen a woman in Regency costume before?
‘Bingley not accompanying you?’ Gabe asked.
‘You must be joking! He’d rampage and wreck the whole promenade. I’ve shut him in the kitchen,’ Shelley said. ‘He’s been a bad boy this morning. Just look what he’s done to Mia’s dress.’ She pulled Mia’s shawl down to reveal the offending mark.
‘Oh, dear,’ Gabe said, but there was the beginnings of a smile playing around his lips, and Mia couldn’t help smiling too. ‘Shall I give him a walk?’
‘Oh, would you?’
‘It would be my pleasure.’
‘He’s always such a darling for you. I can never handle him properly.’
‘That’s because he knows he can get away with things with you. You’ve got to be firmer with him, Shelley.’
‘I know, but it’s so hard.’
‘I’ll get him now, shall I?’
Shelley smiled and nodded, watching as Gabe entered the house. ‘Honestly, I don’t know what I’d do without Gabe. He really is marvelous. You should get to know him.’
Before Mia could protest, Shelley was shouting again.
‘Pie! Oh, where is he? How very provoking he can be! Honestly, he wouldn’t get a job as a taxi driver.’
Mia grinned as Pie emerged from the house. His hair was in disarray as usual, and he wasn’t smiling.
‘If only Pie could be more like Gabe,’ Shelley whispered.
They followed Pie out into the road, and Mia smiled when she saw the vehicle that was to take them into Bath. It was a small white van. Well, it had once been white, but it was now more of a dingy beige, owing to the layers of dirt that had accumulated over goodness only knew how long. It wasn’t exactly the finest of vehicles on the road, but it looked functional enough, and it certainly beat the long walk into town in their fancy gowns and delicate shoes.
‘What is it, exactly, that Pie does?’ Mia whispered, looking around the van as they squashed into the back seat together.
‘I’m not sure,’ Shelley whispered back.
‘Didn’t you ask? I mean, when he came to rent your room?’
Shelley shook her head. ‘He just handed me two references and a wad of fifty-pound notes, and I said thank you. I’m sure he did try to tell me, but I couldn’t understand what he was saying.’
‘Is he foreign, do you think?’
Shelley shrugged.
Mia thought it very mysterious, and she wasn’t at all sure she’d want to be sharing a house with somebody she knew so little about, but there was also something a little romantic about it. It turned Pie into a sort of Heathcliff-type character, where one could imagine all sorts about his background. Maybe he was a prince from a faraway country—or maybe not. She couldn’t imagine it, herself.
Putting all thoughts of Pie’s romantic past out of her mind, Mia looked out of the window as the van descended the steep hill into town. It was this side of town around which Jane Austen and her sister used to walk, Lyncombe Hill, wasn’t it? Mia tried to imagine the sisters making the ascent in the restricting fashions of the day. It wouldn’t do for Mia. As much as she adored her muslin dress and dainty shoes, she still liked to be able to stride out in a pair of jeans and sturdy boots.
Pie stopped at the back of the abbey, and they got out of the van, straightening their dresses and adjusting their bonnets.
‘I’m so excited,’ Mia said. ‘It feels like decades since I was last here.’
Shelley linked arms with her like a true heroine, and they rounded the abbey together and were soon lost in a sea of costumes.
‘It’s the busiest ever!’ Shelley said. ‘I’ve never seen so many people before. This must be a world record.’
The crowd seemed to hum with excitement, and Mia watched in delight as people posed in front of the great abbey doors and the Pump Room, all eager to have their photographs taken for posterity.
Mia had truly never seen quite so many people in costume in one place, but there was something rather surreal about it too, for these heroes and heroines were definitely from the twenty-first century, even though the clothes they wore begged to differ. Mia noticed that a number of them were pushing baby strollers and holding mobile phones, and there was even a Mrs Jenkins look-alike who was sneaking a quick cigarette. Then there were the giveaway shoes. Whilst a good majority did their best with replica shoes from the period, there were still a few kitten heels and trainers half hidden beneath the long dresses. What would Jane Austen have made of it all? Mia wondered.
There were so many magnificent costumes that it was hard to know where to look. Sky blue and white seemed to be favorites, and they made a fresh combination. Mia also loved the sweet apple green and white she spotted a young woman wearing. It was all such a wonderful feast for the eyes and was rather like looking at a cloud of beautiful butterflies.
Then they spotted a woman with bright purple hair.
‘That’s not very Austen appropriate,’ Mia said in disgust. ‘You’d think she could have toned it down a bit for the festival.’
‘I wish there were more men,’ Shelley said. ‘Most of them are old enough to be my grandfather.’
Then she saw him—he was tall, with bright chestnut hair, and he was in full Regency costume.
‘Oh, my goodness!’ Shelley exclaimed, a gloved hand flying to her mouth. ‘It’s a real-life hero! Mr Darcy does exist!’
Mia looked in the direction Shelley was gazing, and there stood the most handsome man she had ever seen, although he actually had his back to them, so it was impossible to tell if he really was handsome, but if the long, slim-fitting coat and elegant black boots were anything to go by, then he was a real stunner.
‘I’m going to propose to him right now,’ Shelley said, ‘and don’t try to stop me. Men like that don’t come along very often.’
Mia giggled. Shelley was right. The man really stood out from the crowd. Not only was there a sorry lack of men in general, but also the ones who did join in the promenade tended to be a little older than your average Jane Austen hero.
Before Shelley had time to go down on bended knee, the hero turned around.
‘Oh!’ Shelley gasped, not only because he was just as handsome as she’d hoped, but also because he was holding a tiny baby in a little papoose.
‘Probably best that you not propose to him,’ Mia said with a little smile. ‘I think he’s already taken.’
Sure enough, they then spotte
d a young woman with a tumble of fair curls tied loosely with a pale pink ribbon. She was wearing a simple white dress and a pretty rose-colored Spencer jacket. A topaz cross hung on a fine gold chain around her neck, and Mia immediately recognized it as a copy of Jane Austen’s famous necklace.
Shelley, who adored babies, couldn’t resist saying hello and had approached the couple before Mia could stop her.
‘What an adorable baby!’ Shelley said. ‘What’s her name?’
‘Cassie,’ the man said.
‘Cassandra,’ the woman corrected.
‘Like Jane’s sister?’ Shelley said.
The young woman nodded. ‘Cassandra Elizabeth Jane.’
‘How perfect is that?’ Shelley enthused.
‘Cassie for short,’ the man said.
‘How old is she?’ Mia asked, peering down at the baby.
‘Five weeks,’ the woman said.
Shelley’s mouth dropped open in wonder. ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘Then I’m guessing this is her first Jane Austen Festival.’
The woman laughed. ‘And its youngest participant. It’s Dan’s first festival too,’ the young mother said, nodding to the tall gentleman beside her. I’ve been before, but this is the first year I’ve dressed up, and it’s so much fun.’
Shelley nodded enthusiastically. ‘I come every year. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’
It was then that the announcement came: the promenade was about to begin. Mia felt a funny fluttering in her stomach, which she normally only ever felt when attending auditions.
‘Come on, Robyn,’ the gentleman with the baby said, and Mia and Shelley watched as she linked arms with him and they began to promenade.
‘Isn’t that the most perfect family you’ve ever seen?’ Shelley asked with a romantic sigh.
Mia nodded. ‘They looked so happy together, didn’t they?’
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