Читать книгу A Weekend with Mr Darcy: The perfect summer read for Austen addicts! - Виктория Коннелли, Victoria Connelly - Страница 14

Once Katherine climbed the steps and entered Purley, the naughty novels of Lorna Warwick would have to be forgotten as the weekend promised wall to wall Jane Austen. There was no room here for the imitators, the pastiches or the sequels - however good they might be. This was Purley Hall and nothing but the original Jane Austen was accepted.

Katherine wondered if Lorna was going to be there and dearly hoped she would be. She felt quite sure she’d enjoy the experience. They’d talked so much about Austen’s novels in their letters to each other and Katherine knew that Lorna’s presence would have made the weekend an absolute treat. How much they would have to talk about. They would probably be like a couple of naughty students, chatting and giggling at the back of the lecture rooms, swapping comments and anecdotes.

I wonder what she looks like? Katherine thought as she entered the grand hall of Purley, marvelling at the double staircase and smelling the intoxicating lilies that sat in their vases like marble sculptures above the fireplace. It didn’t really matter what she looked like - Katherine knew that and yet she’d still Googled the name, only to come up with innumerable images of Lorna Warwick novels from around the world. There were no photographs of the writer - not even on her website.

Anyway, she wasn’t going to be here so what did it matter? Looking around the room, one thing was certain - Katherine might not have any idea of what Lorna looked like but she knew that, were she attending the conference, she was sure to recognize her immediately. It would be like old friends meeting up after years of separation.

She made her way towards the crowded reception desk and waited her turn and, once she’d been given her key, she dared to ask if Lorna Warwick had arrived.

‘Let me see,’ the girl on reception said. ‘No, there’s no Lorna Warwick here this weekend.’

Katherine sighed and left the desk.

It was then that she heard a voice that chilled her spine. Oh, no, she thought as she turned round and saw the woman she’d dreaded seeing: Mrs Soames. They’d crossed paths before and Katherine remembered all too well the woman who could cloud over the loveliest day just by entering a room. She was the kind of woman who found something to complain about in even the simplest of tasks. Nothing was beyond reproach whether it was a day’s excursion or a cup of tea. Mrs Soames was bound to find something in it that was worth complaining about.

Katherine did her best to sneak by her as she was shouting some orders at a man who seemed to be crawling underneath her suitcase. She could just make out a pair of long legs ending in smart brown leather shoes poking out from one side of the enormous suitcase and the top of a tousled head of hair at the other end.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Mrs Soames said. ‘That’s not going to do any good!’

‘I think I can loosen it here,’ the man’s voice said. ‘Yes, that ought to do the trick.’

Katherine watched as the dark-haired man stood back up to full height, pushing the suitcase in her direction as he did so.

‘Ouch!’ Katherine screamed. ‘My foot!’

‘Oh my God! I’m so sorry,’ the man said, turning round to look at her. ‘Are you okay?’

‘No, I’m not okay. You’ve run over my foot with a two-tonne suitcase!’

‘I beg your pardon?’ Mrs Soames said. ‘Oh, it’s you, Dr Roberts.’ There was no trace of concern in her voice for Katherine’s poor foot.

Katherine bent down to rub her bruised toes.

‘Can I help you?’ the man asked, his bright eyes filled with concern.

‘You’re meant to be helping me!’ Mrs Soames said, her mouth set in a firm line.

‘Of course,’ the man said. ‘Look, I’m so sorry. If there’s anything I can do—’

‘Just leave me alone,’ Katherine said, wincing as she hobbled away with her own suitcase.

Robyn took a deep breath and approached the young girl at the desk.

‘Hello. I’m here for the conference.’

‘What’s your name?’ the girl asked.

‘Robyn. Robyn Love.’

‘Oh! What a gorgeous name!’

Robyn gave a shy smile. ‘I’m usually told how strange it is.’

‘I’ve met stranger,’ the girl said with a giggle and Robyn wondered what she meant. ‘You’ve got a welcome pack?’

‘Yes, thank you.’

The girl looked down at her register. ‘You’re in the Cedar Room. Up the stairs and turn right. It’s at the end of the corridor.’

The Cedar Room, Robyn said to herself. She liked the sound of that.

‘Mark will help you with your bags.’

Robyn turned and came face to face with a young man who immediately took her suitcase from her.

‘Oh, just a minute, Mark,’ the young girl said. ‘Here’s Dr Roberts. She’s just opposite in the Lake Room.’

Robyn turned to see a beautiful woman with dark hair swept up in a rather severe bun. She was wearing a crisp white shirt and a knee-length black skirt that was pencil-thin over her shapely legs.

‘Hello,’ Dr Roberts said to the girl who handed her a badge. She then turned to smile at Robyn. ‘Please, call me Katherine,’ she said but then she winced.

‘Are you okay?’ Robyn asked.

Katherine nodded. ‘Some idiot just wheeled a suitcase right over my foot. I fear I’ll be hobbling for the rest of today.’

‘Oh, dear!’ Robyn said. ‘We’ll have to find a handsome Willoughby to carry you up the stairs.’

Katherine laughed. ‘I think I can make it up myself.’

Mark picked up Katherine’s suitcase and led the two women up the stairs.

‘Have you travelled far?’ Katherine asked Robyn.

‘North Yorkshire.’

‘A bit further than me then. I’ve only come from Oxford.’

‘You’re the lecturer, aren’t you?’ Robyn said excitedly. ‘I’ve read your book!’

‘For pleasure?’

‘Oh, yes!’ Robyn enthused.

Katherine laughed. ‘I’m forgetting that everyone here enjoys Austen. I lecture at St Bridget’s in Oxford and I’m afraid the students there aren’t all as enthusiastic about our Jane.’

‘It must be a hard job,’ Robyn said, full of admiration for her new friend.

‘Some of the time,’ she said. ‘But I’m teaching the subject I love and, of course, we get to come to events like this.’

Robyn nodded. ‘I wish I’d had the chance to go to university. I would have loved it. It’s one of the reasons I like coming to things like this. I feel I learn so much.’

Katherine smiled. ‘Learning is a lifelong pleasure.’

The two women climbed the left-hand staircase which joined the right one in the middle and led them up to the first floor where the bedrooms were.

‘This is such an amazing house,’ Robyn said, gazing back down the stairs to the hall below, her feet making no sound on the plush red carpet.

‘This is called the Imperial Staircase,’ Katherine told her. ‘One of the finest in the country.’

Robyn suddenly stopped.

‘What is it?’ Katherine asked.

‘That man,’ Robyn said, nodding to a dark-haired gentleman at the bottom of the stairs. ‘He’s been watching us. Do you know him?’

Katherine’s eyes followed Robyn’s. ‘Oh! It’s that dreadful man who attacked me with a suitcase.’

Robyn watched as the man turned away. ‘He’s rather good-looking,’ she said.

‘Well, if you like that obvious tall, dark and handsome look,’ Katherine said.

‘Tolerable but not handsome enough to tempt you?’ Robyn said with a grin.

Katherine’s eyes met hers. ‘Something like that.’

They walked on, reaching the top of the stairs and turning right down a corridor lined with portraits.

‘We’re at the end,’ Mark said, leading on and stopping outside two bedroom doors. ‘Dr Roberts here,’ he said, opening the door on the right. ‘Miss Love here,’ he said, opening the door to the left. ‘Enjoy your stay at Purley.’

Robyn smiled, confident that she was going to do just that.

Warwick was mortified. Of all the people to run over with a suitcase, he had to go and pick Katherine. What a way to finally meet her. He’d recognized her instantly, of course, but the memory of the look she’d given him was enough to make him give up and go home right now.

He’d helped Mrs Soames to her room with her suitcase and had quickly returned to the hall, hoping to apologize to Katherine again and make some sort of amends but she’d been on her way up the stairs by then with the young woman in the silver sandals.

He’d stood and watched, getting his first proper look at Katherine, and what he saw surprised him. What had happened to the long luxurious hair that he’d seen in the photograph of her online? Instead of cascading over her shoulders, it had been tugged into a tight bun, flattened and lifeless at the back of her head. He took in the business-smart outfit too in black and white and the author in him wanted to rewrite her - dressing her in a vibrant colour and unpinning her dark hair.

He watched as she talked to the girl with the corkscrew curls and followed their progress up the stairs. He hadn’t meant to stare. That wasn’t the heroic stance he’d planned at all and he’d felt such a fool when he’d been spotted.

First impressions were so important, he thought, thinking of the disastrous one that had befallen Elizabeth Bennet and Mr Darcy, and Austen herself had realized the role they played when she’d given Pride and Prejudice the original title of First Impressions. Warwick groaned. He’d completely missed his opportunity to make a good one - twice. Still, he was an author and was quite used to rewriting plots that didn’t work. He’d just have to wait for another opportunity and make sure he got it right next time.