Christmas with Mr Darcy (an Austen Addicts story)

by Connelly, Victoria

  Higgins glanced at Dame Pamela and she nodded in consent.

  ‘Anyway, I’m much happier doing what I’m doing now,’ Gemma said.

  ‘Yes, how is the shop?’ Dame Pamela asked, remembering that Gemma’s handmade knitted clothes for children had become instant bestsellers as soon as they’d gone on sale.

  ‘It’s doing really well,’ Gemma said.

  ‘In Marylebone High Street, isn’t it?’

  Gemma nodded. ‘We’re hoping to open another one in Wimbledon soon.’

  ‘There’s a chap in Wimbledon that owes me money,’ Benedict said.

  Dame Pamela’s eyes widened. ‘I expect a lot of people owe you money,’ she said.

  ‘You’re damned right, sis,’ he said, reaching for the brandy bottle which Higgins had left within arm’s reach of Benedict. Dame Pamela frowned in disapproval.

  They chatted away for half an hour or so, the fire crackling and the clock ticking above the mantelpiece. Finally, believing that it would be most unseemly to yawn in front of her guests, Dame Pamela stood up.

  ‘Well, I think it’s time to call it a night,’ she said. ‘Higgins will see you to your rooms. Good night.’ She kissed them both and left them in the capable hands of her butler before returning to her bedroom.

  As she climbed back into bed, Dame Pamela thought what a great relief it was that Gemma had arrived but she was still concerned about her brother and guessed that only time would tell the truth about his reason for visiting Purley Hall.

  Chapter 6

  A white world greeted the guests the next morning. Mia Castle was one of the first out of bed and whipped the curtains back, blinding her poor sister.

  ‘Sarah!’ she cried. ‘Come and see!’

  Sarah sat up in bed and blinked in the bright white light that flooded the bedroom.

  ‘Come on!’ Mia pleaded as if all the snow might suddenly melt away.

  Sarah brushed her hair out of her face and placed her feet into her slippers – first the left and then the right, careful not to touch the carpet – and joined her sister at the window.

  ‘Oh!’ she said as she saw the sight that greeted her. Their bedroom was at the back of the house overlooking the garden and the landscape beyond and everything had turned white. It was the softest, sparkliest, dreamiest of worlds. The ground was covered in at least six inches of snow and all the trees were wearing white garments. The garden obelisks had turned from hard stone to soft wool and the lake had disappeared completely.

  Mia opened the sash window and leaned out. ‘Listen. Isn’t it quiet? I love that about snow. It seems to absorb all sound.’

  Sarah nodded and then shivered. ‘We’d better get ready for breakfast,’ she said, moving away from the window.

  Mia closed it with a sigh. ‘It’s going to be a white Christmas,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Sarah?’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Are you okay?’

  Sarah turned around to look at Mia. ‘Of course,’ she said.

  ‘You seem quiet.’

  ‘Next to you, everyone’s quiet,’ Sarah said with a little smile.

  ‘I know but you’re even quieter than usual.’ Concern was etched across Mia’s face. ‘Everything okay?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah said but Mia could see that she was hiding something. She was the world’s worst liar.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ Sarah said. ‘Now, let’s get ready for breakfast.’

  Half an hour later, the sisters walked down the grand staircase and entered the dining room for breakfast. A side table had been set out with glasses, cups and plates, and guests were helping themselves to fruit juice, cereal, toast and croissants before ordering cooked breakfasts.

  ‘Who’s that man?’ Mia asked.

  Sarah looked up from where she was choosing a glass which didn’t have any smears on it. ‘The one by the window?’

  Mia nodded. The man was in his late forties and was tall and thin with dark hair and a moustache that might have looked sexy on Errol Flynn but which looked horribly suspicious hovering on his face.

  ‘I’ve no idea,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I’ve not noticed him before but he kind of stands out, doesn’t he?’

  They took their breakfast over to the table and sat down just as the man turned around from the window.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said with a tight smile as he sat down next to Mia. ‘I’m Jackson Moore.’

  ‘I’m Mia and this is my sister, Sarah,’ Mia said.

  He nodded and stroked his strange moutache with his long, tapering fingers. ‘And you’re both Austen fans, are you?’

  Mia gave him a startled look as if to say what a silly question that was.

  ‘We are indeed,’ Sarah said, tapping her sister’s foot with her own under the table in an attempt to remind her of the importance of manners.

  ‘And you must be too?’ Mia said.

  ‘Well, of course,’ he said.

  ‘And what’s your favourite book?’ Mia asked, feeling the weight of Sarah’s foot on hers once again as if her sister knew she was testing him.

  ‘Pride and Prejudice, of course,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that everybody’s favourite?’

  ‘Not at all,’ Mia said, her voice filled with annoyance. ‘Our favourite is Sense and Sensibility.’

  Jackson Moore nodded sagely and Mia turned away from him to get on with her breakfast and he eventually stood up and left the room.

  ‘Mia!’ Sarah whispered. ‘Why were you so abrupt with him?’

  ‘Because I don’t like him,’ Mia said matter-of-factly.

  ‘But you were so rude,’ Sarah said.

  ‘I don’t care. He wasn’t–’ Mia paused.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Right. He wasn’t right!’

  ‘Because he was a man?’

  ‘No, not because he was a man. He’s just odd.’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t seem like your typical Janeite but who are we to say who can and can’t admire Jane Austen?’

  Mia shook her head. ‘I just didn’t believe him,’ she said.

  ‘Your trouble is you’re too judgemental. You jump to conclusions and don’t give people a chance. He’s probably some poor widower who might not be able to tell Captain Wentworth from General Tilney but is just as fascinated by the books as we are.’

  Mia made a funny sort of scoffing noise. ‘We’ll see,’ she said.

  In the West Drawing Room, Adam and Gemma were getting ready for their presentation.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re here!’ Adam told Gemma as she arranged her notes on the little table between their two chairs. ‘I was so worried about you last night.’

  ‘Worried that you’d have to do the talk on your own?’ she teased.

  Adam flushed red. ‘Well, yes,’ he said, ‘but worried that you were stuck somewhere too.’

  ‘I nearly did get stuck,’ she said, ‘and I’m guessing we’re all snowed in here for a while.’

  ‘I can think of worse fates,’ Adam said. ‘Did Rob not fancy coming with you?’ he asked, remembering Gemma’s new husband whom she’d met on the set of Persuasion.

  ‘Oh, this isn’t his sort of thing at all,’ Gemma said. ‘Anyway, he’s got one of his brothers over from Ireland. They’re going to sit and drink whiskey and talk into the small hours without any interruption from me.’

  ‘And how’s your mother?’ Adam asked, remembering Gemma’s famous actress mother, Kim Reilly, who’d been a big star in the seventies hit show Bandits.

  ‘Oh, she’s fine,’ Gemma said. ‘Actually, she’s working on her first screenplay.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t know your mother wrote. I mean, she doesn’t strike me as the writerly type.’

  ‘Well, she’s written the biggest part with herself in mind,’ Gemma said with a grin. ‘And she asked me if I’d give you a copy of the first draft. I said no, of course, but you know what she’s like. She absolutely insisted so I’ve brought it with me but don’t feel you have to, Adam. It’s
really overstepping the mark.’

  ‘No, no,’ Adam assured her. ‘I’ll take a look at it.’

  ‘You will?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  ‘And handle her with care?’ Gemma said.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Because you know what she can be like.’

  ‘Indeed I do,’ he said, remembering the affection-craving actress he’d met on the set of Persuasion and how she’d made poor Gemma’s life a total nightmare.

  ‘Thanks so much, Adam,’ Gemma said. ‘I really appreciate it.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  The drawing room door opened and the first of the guests walked in, taking their seats before Adam had the chance to run away.

  ‘Just keep breathing,’ Gemma whispered to him and he nodded, pushing his glasses up his nose like a nervous teacher before a class of students.

  Kay was one of the first in and took a seat in the front row. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked Adam. He nodded again but she could see the look of panic in his eyes. ‘Just remember that everyone loves everything you do!’

  Adam took a deep breath as the rest of the seats filled up. It was time to begin.

  After telling the audience how he’d come to be such a big Jane Austen fan and how his love of his native Lyme Regis had encouraged him to write and produce an adaptation of Persuasion, Gemma explained how she went about portraying the film’s heroine, Anne Elliot.

  The talk was illustrated with numerous photographs taken during the production and the ones of Oli Wade Owen dressed as Captain Wentworth went down particularly well with the ladies.

  It was then time for questions from the audience.

  ‘What was it like kissing Oli Wade Owen?’ Doris Norris asked with a little giggle.

  ‘Ah, but I didn’t,’ Gemma said. ‘Anne Elliot kissed Captain Wentworth and it was pretty wonderful.’

  Everyone laughed.

  ‘Will either of you do more Austen adaptations?’ Roberta asked from the second row.

  Gemma was the first to answer. ‘I’m not acting anymore, I’m afraid, so I won’t be. But Adam – you’re working on something at the moment, aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, yes. It’s very early days but I’ve got a modern adaptation of Sense and Sensibility under way and I’m hoping we’ll be able to shoot it in Devon next year.’

  This news was greeted with much approval and Mia nudged Sarah. ‘It’s probably our life story,’ she said.

  ‘I doubt it,’ Sarah said with a little smile. ‘It would be deemed highly implausible!’

  After lunch, there was a talk by another of the guests – Doctor Katherine Roberts from St Bridget’s College in Oxford. A happy hour was spent discussing the role of mothers in the novels of Jane Austen and it was concluded that they were a pretty bad bunch on the whole although it was agreed that Mrs Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility was the most likeable and had done her very best for her daughters.

  There was then an afternoon showing of the recent BBC adaptation of Emma and everybody cheered whenever snow was seen. There were also a couple of naughty wolf whistles for Jonny Lee Miller’s Mr Knightley too and, as usual amongst Jane Austen fans, a conversation ensued about who was the best Mr Knightley.

  ‘I rather preferred Jeremy Northam as Mr Knightley,’ Doris Norris said.

  Rose shook her head. ‘He was far too gentle. He practically bordered on the effeminate. Mark Strong was much better.’

  ‘I’d like to see Richard Armitage as Mr Knightley,’ Roberta said with a little sigh.

  ‘I’d like to see Richard Armitage in anything,’ Doris Norris said. ‘Or nothing!’ she added and the three of them chuckled

  ‘Shush!’ Mrs Soames hissed from the front row. ‘Some of us are trying to watch this!’

  Chapter 7

  Whilst most of the guests were wallowing in Emma, Dame Pamela was in her office with Higgins.

  ‘I must say, I’m rather nervous about this, Higgins,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not surprised, madam,’ he said.

  ‘I’ve been looking forward to it so much but, now the time is approaching, I feel all fluttery!’ She gave a girlish laugh, her hand flying to the pearl choker around her neck.

  Higgins cleared his throat which was always a sign that he had something to say although he’d never venture an opinion without being invited to.

  ‘What is it, Higgins?’ Dame Pamela asked, looking at her faithful butler and noticing that he looked decidedly twitchy.

  ‘If I may say something, madam?’ he said, eyebrows arching imperiously.

  ‘Of course.’

  He cleared his throat again which made Dame Pamela even more anxious to hear what he had to say.

  ‘We don’t really know these people,’ he said.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

  ‘I mean that what you’re about to do – what you’re about to show them-’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It seems rather risky to me,’ he said.

  ‘How can you say that?’ Dame Pamela asked. ‘These people are all Jane Austen fans and that makes us like family!’

  ‘But they’re not family.’

  ‘Look, Higgins, I’ve worked with countless people in my profession. I’ve met some gems and I’ve met some real stinkers too and I like to think that I’m a pretty good judge of character and there’s not one guest here that I wouldn’t trust with my life. Well, as long as we keep an eye on Benedict, that is. Just in case he decides to run away with it.’

  Higgins nodded as if in agreement. ‘And you’ll make sure you’ll return it to the safe afterwards?’ he said.

  ‘Of course I will. Really, Higgins, I do think you’re worrying about nothing.’

  ‘One should always remain cautious,’ he said. ‘Best safety lies in fear.’

  Dame Pamela blinked in surprise. ‘I didn’t know you knew Hamlet,’ she said.

  ‘I have been known to read the Bard on occasion,’ Higgins said, giving a little nod of his head before leaving the room.

  ‘Hey!’ Dan said as he entered the kitchen. ‘I’ve been looking all over for you. I thought you were watching Emma.’

  Robyn looked up from the rocking chair where she was holding a sleeping Cassandra, her long corkscrew curls tickling her daughter’s head. ‘I was but Cassie started getting grouchy. I think she wanted her nap so we came down here for a while.’

  ‘It’s certainly the place to be,’ Dan said, kissing Robyn before pulling up a wooden chair and joining her by the AGA whose heat was filling the room. ‘I’ve just been outside and it’s absolutely freezing. The drive’s completely covered and it looks like we’re all snowed in for the next few days.’

  ‘Good job nobody’s planning on going anywhere then, isn’t it?’

  Dan nodded. ‘I’m glad I brought Moby and Biscuit with me this morning but we’ll have to nip back to the cottage to feed the hens . Pammy’s said we can stay in the attic room. Higgins is making sure it’s all ship-shape. She didn’t want to put us all the way up there but all the other rooms are full.’

  ‘The attic room’s fine. Is the rocking horse still up there?’

  Dan nodded. ‘I can give Cassie her first riding lesson.’

  Robyn smiled. Dan had been talking about getting Cassie into the saddle since she’d been born but Robyn insisted on waiting until she started school. ‘That’ll be soon enough,’ she’d told him.

  They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching Cassie as she slept. Robyn stroked her red-gold hair. She’d inherited her father’s colouring although it had a tendency to curl like Robyn’s hair.

  ‘How are things going with Benedict?’ Robyn asked at last.

  ‘I’ve left him in the drawing room. He’s smoking his way through Higgins’s cigars.’

  ‘And you haven’t found out why he’s here?’

  ‘He keeps talking about the “spirit of Christmas”,’ Dan said, ‘but I don’t believe him. He’s never been the sort to put
a family Christmas first. He’s hiding something, all right, but I haven’t winkled it out of him yet.

  ‘He seems nice enough,’ Robyn said.

  ‘Oh, he’s always been an affable sort.’

  Robyn grinned.

  ‘What?’ Dan asked her.

  ‘You said affable,’ she said.

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’

  ‘Nothing!’ she said. ‘But you’re beginning to sound like a Janeite.’

  Dan grinned. ‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘You can’t move around Purley these days without being assaulted by affables and amiables.’

  Robyn laughed. ‘I think it’s something we’re going to have to get used to with all these conferences.’

  ‘Yes, Pammy shows no signs of slowing down or thinking about retirement anytime soon.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Robyn said, ‘otherwise I’d be out of a job.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think so,’ Dan said. ‘If Pammy ever does retire, I’m sure you’d be running these conferences yourself.’

  ‘You think she’d keep them going?’

  ‘Are you kidding? Pammy adores having a house full of people. She’ll never give that up even when she reaches a hundred - which I’m sure she will.’

  Robyn smiled. ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Now, how do you fancy keeping an eye on Cassandra for a while?’

  ‘Sure,’ Dan said, taking the sleeping baby from his wife. ‘What are you up to?’

  ‘I’ve just got to pop back and watch the end of Emma. I can’t miss that proposal scene in the garden!’

  After Mr Knightley had kissed Emma Woodhouse to rapturous applause, it was time to get ready for dinner.

  Katherine had been chatting to Robyn after the showing of Emma and, realising the time, dashed up the stairs to get changed. Entering the bedroom, she saw Warwick stooped over his suitcase, hunting through the clothes and books he’d packed.

  ‘Warwick? What are you looking for?’ she asked.

  He jumped and span around. ‘Oh, you startled me!’ he said.

  ‘Have you lost something?’

  ‘No!’