Undressing Mr. Darcy

by Karen Doornebos

  Vanessa stepped back to allow the couple, both shorter than she was, a better view. She yanked Lexi out of their way, too.

  “Look, sweetheart,” the woman whispered to her companion, “it’s Jane Austen’s writing box. The one that, when she was twenty-three years old, was accidently put in a chaise with her dressing boxes, headed for the West Indies. She had all of her manuscripts, letters, and money in the box at the time. Can you believe it?”

  He shook his head no and, when he smiled, his crows’ feet crinkled around his blue eyes.

  “All of her novels, in their nascent form, almost vanished.”

  He shook his head.

  In the time before computers and backups, Vanessa could imagine a young Jane Austen, horrified at the thought of her work on a trajectory toward the West Indies, yet still rational and, no doubt, taking control of the situation.

  Now Vanessa remembered half listening to this story while scrolling through her e-mails as Julian had told it to Aunt Ella over tea.

  “What did she do again?” Vanessa asked the woman.

  “She had a man on a horse sent to go after the chaise, and within half an hour, she had the box back. But as Austen herself said, she had lost ‘all of her worldly possessions.’”

  “That’s right.” Vanessa smiled.

  “It would be like you losing your phone,” Sherry whispered.

  Vanessa managed a smile, realizing how pathetic it made her sound. Was that the most valuable thing she had to lose? If so, had she really lived?

  “We’d all be lost without her work.” The woman saved her by changing the subject. “The entire episode is written in a letter to Cassandra.” She looked endearingly at Vanessa. “You must be an Austen fan.”

  Vanessa nodded. “Yes, yes, I am.”

  Her aunt would’ve been pleased. And admitting her fandom didn’t even make her feel like she should sign up for a twelve-step program: My name is Vanessa Roberts and I’m an Austenaholic. She felt cool about the whole thing.

  Lexi moved right between her and the older couple. She flung up her arms, and in a loud whisper she said, “We need to find the next clue—okay?”

  “I’m talking to this nice couple,” Vanessa whispered firmly while nudging Lexi aside.

  Lexi tossed her head at them. “Where’s Chase?”

  “Calm down, Lexi. He’s looking at the Magna Carta.”

  The security guard at the door had his eye on them, and other visitors in the library turned their heads toward them.

  “Calm down? How can I calm down when you’re chatting, Chase is MIA, and Sherry’s in the gift shop?”

  Vanessa craned her neck to speak to the older couple. “I apologize for my friend here—”

  Lexi stomped her foot on the carpeting. “I’m only trying to keep us on task for your sake.” She didn’t whisper that time.

  The security guard started coming their way.

  “Thank you for telling me the story of the writing box,” Vanessa said to the couple. “Great to meet you, but I have to go.”

  Lexi stormed off, brushing against the security guard, who then followed her.

  “Before you go, perhaps you would like this?”

  The woman held out a familiar card—a clue!

  “What?” Vanessa couldn’t believe it. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” she whispered as she squeezed the woman’s hand.

  “I know your friend has the description of the desk in her notebook. You can just hand that in at the end. I hope you win, dear,” the woman said. “Only one person can win, not an entire team. You’ll have to break up your group. You’re very near the end of the hunt for today.”

  Vanessa thanked her again, hurried off after Lexi, and left the library without seeing any of the treasures of the collection, including the Magna Carta and the Gutenberg Bible. A couple of weeks earlier, she might not have cared, but now—

  Lexi paced in front of the café just outside the library with Sherry and Chase. The café was called, appropriately, the Last Word.

  “What the hell, Vanessa?” Lexi stopped and put a hand on her hip. “We didn’t get the clue.”

  One thing that clearly hadn’t changed with Lexi was her fiery temper. Maybe the woman with the clue had a point.

  “Lexi, I’m not sure if this is going to work out with us together,” Vanessa said.

  “Uh-oh.” Sherry headed for the steps of the café. “I’m going to get some beverages for everyone . . .”

  Lexi glared at Vanessa.

  Chase cracked open a book. It had stopped drizzling so he leaned on his umbrella and began to read. “Let me know when you ladies are ready. I have to entertain clients soon at the Ritz, so I’m only free for another hour.”

  Lexi went right up to Chase, put her hand over the page he was reading, and asked, “Chase, why have you been so helpful? I only ask because Sherry and I want the recognition for winning this thing, and we all know why Vanessa wants to win this hunt. But what about you? Has her aunt put you up to this?”

  “Ella may have mentioned she hoped I could check in on Vanessa, yes.”

  Vanessa dropped her phone on the concrete and the screen cracked. She picked it up and stared at the fissure.

  “What?” Vanessa asked. “You’re here because my aunt wanted you to babysit me?”

  “No, it’s not like that. She’s been worried about you ever since they announced their engagement, and your car accident—”

  “I don’t need that kind of help. I’m not a charity case!”

  “I never said you were,” Chase said.

  “And I don’t need you, Lexi. I thought you changed, but you haven’t.”

  Lexi flipped her blunt-cut hair. “You do need us, Vanessa.” She put both hands, stacked with rings and finished off with a bloodred manicure, on Vanessa’s shoulders. “Who helped you out after you slept with Julian?”

  “Lexi—stop!” She soooo did not want Chase to hear that. Lexi knew damn well she wouldn’t want Chase to hear it—for so many reasons! Did she have no boundaries? No sense of decency?

  Vanessa eyed Chase, who raised an eyebrow.

  “Who’s done everything possible to help you win a goddamn dinner with a guy who doesn’t even deserve to be in the same room with you?”

  Vanessa pulled away from Lexi, who just moved in closer, getting all up in her face.

  Chase closed his book. “So that’s what this is all about.” He raised and then hit the tip of his umbrella on the pavement. “You slept with him. And now you just want to get back into his breeches?”

  “It’s not like that at all! We have a thing, a connection.”

  “A connection? Where is he, then? Nowhere to be seen! I thought this was about Jane Austen!”

  “It is about Jane Austen,” Vanessa said.

  “No, it’s not,” said Lexi. “Vanessa could care less about Jane Austen,” she said to Chase.

  She ignored Lexi and pleaded with Chase. “It wasn’t originally about her, no, but I’ve come to know her and now I’m in it for her, too—to learn more about her and help raise money and awareness for preservation of her cottage and her brother’s estate now functioning as Chawton House Library. And—”

  “Am I really supposed to believe this?” Chase asked. “Because it sounds like PR-speak to me.”

  “If she wins she gets to have dinner with Julian at his estate,” Lexi said. “That’s the deal. Ticket fees for this event go toward preservation, but we didn’t pay for the tickets—Julian did.”

  “I didn’t know you slept with him,” Chase said.

  “I didn’t know you cared! Or does this just fall under your babysitting duties?”

  How could he be acting like her boyfriend? Or worse, a spy? She had no clue he really cared that way. He had no claim on her, either!

  “I can sleep with whomever I want!” she shouted right there, in front of the British Library.

  “I need to go,” Chase said, all dignity and coolness.

  “You must’ve know
n she had feelings for Julian,” Lexi said to him.

  “I did. But I didn’t know she’d slept with him. That changes things—for me anyway.”

  “I’m right here, you know!” Vanessa said to them. “What right do you have to punish me for my actions that have nothing to do with you?”

  “Is my leaving punishment to you?”

  Yes, yes, it was. The cloud cover seemed to darken overhead and she struggled for words. Words usually came easily to her, but she couldn’t say a thing.

  “I see,” Chase said. “Take care. I’ll give you this. You might need it.” He tossed her his umbrella—a gentleman to the end.

  He turned and walked away, ripping something inside her, something she didn’t even know was there.

  Why? Why did she always mess things up with people she actually cared about? Yes, she cared about Chase. He’d taken time out of his day to help her out, and she’d managed to piss him off somehow! She thought about sending him a text, but what should she say?

  How could she be so good at public relations and so shitty at personal ones?

  * * *

  Lexi sighed. “There goes the guy you belong with. But you’ve really effed that up now, haven’t you?”

  When had Lexi ever been right about love? Never!

  Vanessa ran after him, but he was walking pretty briskly toward the zooming traffic on Euston Road. “Chase!” she shouted after him.

  Ignoring her, he took long, fast strides now toward a black London cab on the far side of the street.

  It was too late. He’d gotten into the cab and it drove off. She steadied herself under the shadow of the British Library portico and nearly felt the weight of the massive brick and concrete slab above her.

  She would have to fix this gaffe with him, but not now. It would have to wait. She hurried under the iron gate that read BRITISH LIBRARY BRITISH LIBRARY BRITISH LIBRARY over and over in black iron.

  Lexi stood waiting in the courtyard, tapping her foot and checking her phone. “Once again, Vanessa, you’re truly unable to see what everyone else does. I told you he’s into you.”

  “You told him I slept with Julian, and you had no right to say that to him—or anyone! For once and for all, I’m done with you, Lexi!”

  “Look, that line about you sleeping with him just sort of spilled out. And I do apologize about that, although I think it’s better to let Chase know where you stand with Julian. He deserves to know the truth of the situation.”

  Lexi may have been right about that.

  “And you’re not done with me. I have the description of the writing desk and the ticket stubs to the library and Madame Tussauds, proving we were there.” She patted her red leather purse. “You’ll need them to win.”

  “And I have the description of the drawing and receipt of our donation to the National Portrait Gallery, proving we were there. So we’re at an impasse.”

  “The thing is, I’m not in it to win the dinner with Julian. I was just trying to get my old friend back by helping her out. So much for trying to be good.” She checked her watch. “But right now I need to dash over to the British Museum to see a Regency-era condom and some Italian wax phalli in the Secretum for my research project.”

  Vanessa did a face palm. “What?”

  “You mean you didn’t know that every major European museum had a secret room of saucy artifacts for leering Victorian gentlemen ‘scholars’? Haven’t you heard of the books The Sinner’s Grand Tour and Napoleon’s Privates: 2,500 Years of History Unzipped?”

  “Um—no.” Why was it that, no matter what, even if it involved going to museums, Lexi had more fun? “But don’t you realize that it was you who screwed up everything with Chase by announcing that I slept with Julian?”

  Lexi ignored her. “The British Museum had the Secretum, founded in 1865. It included the wax phalli collected by Sir William Hamilton. His wife, Lady Hamilton, had a scandalous affair with Lord Nelson—you know, the Lord Nelson on top of the column in Trafalgar Square?”

  Vanessa’s head was swirling. She needed to get back on task! What did she care about Lord Nelson other than that he reminded her of Chase trying to draw her attention to the column?

  “Now most of the objects are on display in the Department of Medieval and Later Antiquities, like the famous Warren Cup, an ancient Roman silver cup depicting gay sex, and a replica of a statue of the god Pan copulating with a she-goat.”

  “Pan with a she-goat?”

  “Now you’re with me.” Lexi smiled. “And you thought the British were all stuffy and repressed. The rest of the collection is only available to view by appointment. It’s stored in cupboard number 55. How cool is that? I have an appointment at four.”

  Vanessa got her mind back on track. “I would say even though you’ve ruined mine, you haven’t lost your mojo, Lexi.”

  “That’s good because after the museum I’m heading back to Bath to meet David for the movie. Don’t wait up for me.”

  “Have I ever?”

  “But if you want the tickets and description you can have them. You’ll just have to bring me back a little souvenir.”

  Vanessa didn’t need to ask—Lexi would tell her. It would start with “I want.”

  “I want that life-sized replica of the Colin Firth wax figure in the Madame Tussauds gift shop. Buy it and bring it to me in Bath and I’ll reimburse you, hand over the ticket stubs, and everything.”

  “Oh, right! How am I supposed to believe any of this?”

  “Fine. Don’t believe me. But you didn’t want to believe me when I warned you Chase had feelings for you, either.” She stepped back. “See you in Bath with the replica.”

  “You won’t.”

  “I will. I’ll see you with my life-sized Colin Firth under your arm.”

  “Nope. I don’t care about Julian that much.”

  “I’m afraid you do. God knows why. He’s not worth it. But that man who just abandoned you here in front of the British Library? Now he’s worth it.”

  With that Lexi headed out of the courtyard, turning a few male heads as she strutted along.

  “Lexi!” Vanessa shouted out toward Lexi’s miniskirt. “I will not be bringing Colin Firth to you!”

  Quite a few people, many looking up from their books and phones, turned around and gaped.

  Vanessa grabbed her phone, only to see through the cracked screen that it was already three o’clock just as Sherry headed out of the Last Word with a bag full of seltzer waters and snacks.

  “Thank you for buying the drinks. How much do I owe you?” Vanessa asked as she opened the next clue.

  “Where is everyone?” asked Sherry as she looked around.

  Vanessa read the clue as she spoke. “You don’t want to know. Basically, they left. It seems that, after years of me leaving everyone, people are now leaving me. Do you want to leave, too?” She made a flourish with her hand toward Euston Road even as she mapped out where Twinings tea shop was on her phone, which, despite the crack, still worked, thank God.

  “Now would be a good time because I have to hustle down to Twinings at the Temple tube stop.”

  “Hell no! I’m with you!”

  Vanessa reached out and hugged her.

  “Twinings? Where Jane Austen bought her tea!” Sherry beamed.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Oh, I read it on the Austen Authors blog.”

  Vanessa pulled out her phone. “What’s the Web address?”

  “AustenAuthors.net. It’s a group of Austen-inspired authors and a couple of them have posted pictures of themselves visiting Twinings—where Jane Austen bought her tea when she visited her brother Henry in London.”

  “So that’s why we’re headed there. Here’s the clue.” Vanessa read it out loud.

  “I am sorry to hear that there has been a rise in tea. I do not mean to pay Twining till later in the day, when we may order a fresh supply.” —Jane Austen to Cassandra, March 5, 1814

  Congratulations! You have been
very successful on your hunt in London. You only have a few items on your shopping list to acquire before your return journey to Bath. One of them is a small purchase of the 1706 tea blend with receipt proving you were there. Hurry along now . . .

  “We don’t have much time left. I might need to hit Madame Tussauds gift shop before they close at six. I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’ll explain everything.” She started walking, and quickly, leaving the Last Word behind.

  Chapter 16

  Okay, where the hell was Julian? She’d been in England for more than two full days, first in Bath, now crisscrossing all over London. What grown woman would chase all over the globe for a man like this? There was that word: chase. What was she chasing and why? She was too damn old for this schoolgirl behavior! Or was she? Do we ever really grow up?

  They were at Twinings tea shop on the Strand, a narrow place crammed with colorful packages of tea and large copper bins promising every possible blend of loose tea while the entire place emanated—what else?—a tea-leaf aroma.

  Vanessa, after standing in a line much like Austen herself might have done, bought the requisite 1706 Blend, which the cashier told her had been named for the year Thomas Twining opened his tea shop. She never knew that Twinings was more than three hundred years old, and she didn’t think she’d ever look at Twinings the same again when she’d see it on the shelves at the grocery store back home.

  Sherry, meanwhile, had been sucked in by the Loose Tea Bar in the back of the shop near the little Twinings “museum,” complete with Twinings ephemera of all sorts. Among the displays were official instructions on how to make a proper cup of tea that resulted in Vanessa steeping her mind in—Julian.

  “We don’t have time to sample tea.” Vanessa took the warm cup of tea right out of Sherry’s hands and set it on the counter. “We need to figure out who’s going to hand us the next clue.”

  Vanessa thought, it being so late in the London part of the hunt, that Julian must be making an appearance, but no, she didn’t see him anywhere in the shop. Nor did she spot any likely person to hand off the next clue. For a moment she stood outside Twinings, looking up at the architectural detail above the white-columned doorway, wasting time admiring the artistry of it; having no new clue, she had no place else to go.