Happy Birthday, Mr Darcy

by Victoria Connelly

  ‘I think we had better sit still, for one gets so tumbled in such a crowd!’

  Katherine smiled as she remembered it. Was that what it was going to be like tomorrow? Would she and Warwick be pushed and tumbled and not find a moment to be still – to be alone?

  Katherine sighed. She had unpacked her things that afternoon and now set her little travel clock on the bedside chair next to her trusty travelling copy of Pride and Prejudice. She would treat herself to a few chapters before she went to sleep.

  Chapter 11

  Saturday morning dawned bright and clear. For half an hour, Katherine lay awake in bed listening to the rich clear notes of a blackbird in an apple tree before drifting back to sleep in the knowledge that it wasn’t going to rain on her wedding day and all would be well. But, unseen, the clouds were gathering over the wild stretches of the New Forest and it seemed that they had one direction in mind – Purley Hall.

  By mid-morning, the first fat raindrops were falling, pit-pattering on rooftops and sliding down windowpanes. The florist had arrived with a team of helpers who were busy decorating the hall and the library where the ceremony was going to take place as well as the marquee and the temple on the island, dodging the showers as best as they could. Dame Pamela was flitting around, casting her eyes to the lavender-coloured sky and shaking her head in dismay at the pearly curtain of rain.

  ‘This is not what we ordered, Higgins,’ she said to the butler who was in the library where the chairs were being set out for the wedding ceremony.

  ‘No, madam,’ he said.

  ‘I only hope the sun makes an appearance before the bride does.’

  Horseshoe Cottage was a blessed haven away from the madness of the wedding preparations and Katherine was so grateful to Robyn for suggesting that she stayed there but she wasn’t so happy when she saw the rain.

  ‘Just look at that sky!’ she said, peering out of the kitchen window and grimacing. ‘It’s not going to clear in time, is it?’

  ‘Oh, I think it will,’ Robyn said. ‘I think those clouds are on their way north and will be chased away by sunshine long before the ceremony begins, leaving everything freshly washed and smelling delicious.’

  ‘Do you?’ Katherine asked.

  Robyn nodded. ‘I do.’

  ‘I wish I had your optimism,’ Katherine said.

  They were sitting in the kitchen and were glad of the cheering warmth of the Aga even though it was July. Robyn had made scrambled eggs on wholemeal toast for breakfast and Katherine was now sipping an orange juice.

  ‘Robyn, when you first moved in with Dan, what was it like?’

  ‘Cramped,’ Robyn said with a smile. ‘We had so many boxes between us, we couldn’t move for weeks!’

  ‘No, I mean-’

  ‘What was it really like?’ Robyn said with a knowing expression on her face.

  Katherine nodded.

  ‘Well, after Jace, I knew that anything – anyone - would be a breeze.’

  Katherine nodded again, remembering the errant ex-boyfriend who had terrorised Robyn at a previous conference at Purley.

  ‘And you were happy? You didn’t feel like...’ her voice faded away, her sentence unfinished.

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like you’d become less of yourself.’

  Robyn frowned as if she didn’t quite understand what Katherine meant.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said, and she bit her lip as if in deep thought. ‘I remember feeling this wonderful peace – as if something in me had settled. That sounds funny, doesn’t it? As if I started to wear big furry slippers and stop worrying about what I looked like. But it wasn’t that. It was more that I felt content – a real feeling of contentedness.’ She smiled. ‘Does that make sense?’

  Katherine nodded.

  ‘And Dan was so sweet. He made such an effort to make me feel at home here. He made me a new run for my hens, let me pile all my cushions on the sofa and even let me keep my pink chintz bedding. And he genuinely seems to enjoy the occasional Jane Austen adaptation but he did fall asleep towards the end of the recent Mansfield Park,’ Robyn said with a wry grin.

  ‘Ah,’ Katherine said, ‘an adaptation too far. You should have stuck with Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility. It’s a rare man that can stomach anything more than that.’

  ‘But you haven’t got to worry about that with Warwick,’ Robyn said.

  Katherine nodded. ‘True but I sometimes worry that we’re too alike in that respect.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Robyn asked.

  ‘I’m scared that we’re going to turn into each other or morph together like those dreadful married couples you sometimes see who wear the same clothes and have the same haircuts.’

  Robyn laughed. ‘You won’t be like that!’

  ‘I just worry that I’m going to wake up in a year’s time and not recognise myself anymore.’

  ‘But life changes all of us – you don’t have to get married for that. It wasn’t long ago that I was doing a job I hated in a college in the Yorkshire Dales and living with someone who made me miserable and now look at me!’

  ‘Life moves at an alarming pace sometimes,’ Katherine said.

  ‘But it’s only alarming if you’re going in a direction you don’t want to be going in, isn’t it?’

  Katherine didn’t answer. She was gazing down at her engagement ring and her face had turned marble-white.

  The telephone in the hallway rang before Robyn had a chance to ask if Katherine was okay and she went through to answer it.

  ‘Hello?’ she said. There was a pause at the other end of the line and Robyn heard somebody hang up. She sighed and walked back through to the kitchen. ‘That’s odd,’ she said. ‘That’s the second time that’s happened this morning.’

  Warwick had woken up just before the weather had turned and had gone out running. It was something he’d been doing a lot recently because he wanted to look his best. He’d used to run all the time but had somehow got out of the habit, preferring his rock climbing expeditions to the Peak District and Lake District but those trips were difficult to fit in with his writing commitments and he’d felt like he was getting out of shape.

  That was one of the downsides of being a writer – it was so easy to spend the whole day indoors, glued to a computer screen and getting no exercise whatsoever. He’d just signed another three book deal with his publisher, Parnaby and Fox, who published a hardback in time for the Christmas market and the paperback in time to catch the summer sales and, once again, Nadia had negotiated him a pretty good deal. He had to be the best paid man writing as a woman in the whole of the UK, he thought, but the next deadline was tighter than usual and he’d been working longer hours because of it.

  Now, back from his run and breakfasted courtesy of Higgins who had brought a silver tray into his room so loaded with good food that Warwick had felt certain that the poor butler was about to topple over, he sat himself down at the mahogany dressing table by the window and started writing.

  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when a soft knock on the door brought him out of his writing trance.

  ‘Come in.’

  ‘Morning, Warwick,’ Dan said. ‘Not disturbing you, I hope?’

  ‘No, no!’ Warwick said, pushing his notepad away from him and giving Dan his full attention.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not wearing this to the wedding,’ Dan said, motioning to his black T-shirt and blue jeans.

  ‘It’s a bit early to change, isn’t it?’ Warwick said.

  ‘A few hours yet,’ Dan nodded.

  ‘Thought I’d get some writing in.’

  ‘Really?’ Dan said in surprise. ‘You can do that on a day like today?’

  ‘It’s funny but days like today are often when I can write my best.’

  ‘Wow,’ Dan said. ‘I couldn’t do a thing on our wedding day except pace up and down and take Biscuit for half a dozen walks.’

  Warwick grinned. ‘Plus I’ve got this c
razy deadline to meet.’

  ‘Ah,’ Dan said and then he frowned. ‘You’re not going to be writing on your honeymoon, are you?’

  Warwick laughed. ‘Probably! But that’s okay, Katherine will most likely want to get some work in too.’

  Dan shook his head. ‘I’m glad I’m not an arty type like you guys. It must be impossible to switch off.’

  ‘Pretty much,’ Warwick said. ‘But that’s part of the fun too – you see inspiration everywhere you go. The only problem is finding time to capture it all.’

  Dame Pamela had hired a team of hairdressers and beauticians to take care of Katherine, Robyn and herself and they were busy at work at Horseshoe Cottage. Katherine’s hair had been washed and blow-dried and a girl was now working her magic with the hot wand, making her long dark locks look smooth and shiny. Both she and Robyn were wearing their hair loose with white ribbons and rosebuds threaded through.

  The bride and her maid of honour had already had their hands massaged with almond oil, their nails had been shaped and painted with clear varnish and there was somebody now at work on their feet and toes.

  ‘This feels wonderfully decadent,’ Robyn said. ‘I’d forgotten what it feels like to be pampered like this. I guess motherhood focuses the attention away from oneself.’

  ‘So, who’s looking after Cassandra today?’

  ‘There’s a lovely lady from the next village who’s a childminder. She’s taken Cassie along to her home today. She’s got a little girl of her own called Belle and Cassie and Belle adore each other.’

  ‘Are you missing her?’ Katherine dared to ask.

  ‘Like crazy!’ Robyn said. ‘But I have to admit that this is rather nice.’

  Katherine smiled at the sight of her maid of honour who had her right foot in the pedicurist’s hand whilst her long blonde hair was being brushed by somebody else.

  ‘I wonder how the men are getting on,’ Robyn said. ‘Do you think they’re dressed by now?’

  ‘If I know Warwick, he’ll probably leave it until the very last minute,’ Katherine said.

  The clock in the hallway at Purley slowly ticked the minutes away. The florists were misting the floral displays with water. Two huge urns filled with stargazer lilies had been placed in the library at the top of the aisle and pink and white roses tumbled and spilled from vases on the mantelpiece and windowsills.

  The marquee was filled with flowers too and tall white candle displays surrounded by roses had been placed at the centre of each table. Silver and glass sparkled against the white tablecloths and blue and white ribbons and balloons hung above the area where the bride and groom and guests would dance later that evening.

  Dame Pamela was thrilled with the results, Higgins had nodded his approval and Dan had smiled in wonder when he’d seen it all. The only person not to have taken any interest thus far was the groom who still hadn’t made an appearance.

  Chapter 12

  It was three o’clock on Saturday afternoon when Doris Norris walked out of Winchester train station and looked around anxiously. She’d travelled from the Cotswolds and was meant to be meeting someone and couldn’t help feeling a mite nervous at the prospect. What would everyone at Purley Hall say? Doris had told Robyn, of course, and the sweet girl had said it was absolutely fine and had told Doris not to worry but she couldn’t help worrying all the same.

  She tutted to herself as she remembered the events that had led to her current predicament. She’d just taken a walk into the village to pick up her copy of Crochet Today and to treat herself to a bag of mint toffees when a booming voice sounded from the door of the little shop.

  ‘Don’t just stand in the doorway like that! I can’t get through!’

  Doris would have recognised that voice anywhere and turned to see the bulky figure of Mrs Soames filling the shop doorway and startling the locals.

  Mrs Soames in her village! It had been something of a shock at first but she’d soon been informed that Mrs Soames’s daughter lived in the village and that she was visiting because, in Mrs Soames’s words, she’d “gone and lost her job.”

  ‘Silly girl!’ Mrs Soames had declared, shaking her head so that her chins had wobbled most alarmingly. ‘As though jobs grow on trees these days! What was she thinking?’

  ‘Well, I’m sure it wasn’t her fault,’ Doris said with a sympathetic smile.

  Mrs Soames clicked her tongue as though nothing could be further from the truth.

  One thing had led to another and Doris had invited her back to her house for a cup of tea. She’d brought out her best china cups from the dresser but Mrs Soames grimaced as she picked hers up.

  ‘It’s chipped,’ she complained, her face sour.

  ‘Oh, I am sorry, my dear,’ Doris said. ‘My Henry chipped that in the garden one summer with his secateurs and I can’t bear to part with it. Let me get you another one.’

  Doris left the room for a brief moment and that’s when Mrs Soames had seen Katherine and Warwick’s wedding invitation sitting on the mantelpiece above the fire, her eyes scanning the words.

  Cordially invited ... Doris Norris and guest ... Purley Hall, Hampshire.

  Mrs Soames’s chest had heaved upwards as she clocked it.

  ‘And who is your guest?’ she boomed, her mouth a thin line across her face.

  Doris had simpered and dithered for a few seconds before finally relenting and inviting Mrs Soames but now, standing outside Winchester train station underneath her National Trust umbrella, she wondered if she’d made the right decision.

  ‘Just look at the time!’ Dame Pamela said, fanning herself with a menu. ‘For goodness’ sake, Dan, go and see if Warwick’s all right. We can’t have a wedding without the groom!’

  Dan nodded and ran up the stairs or rather he half-ran because he was now wearing his Regency attire and didn’t want to come a cropper in his fine breeches. When he reached Warwick’s room, he paused for a moment.

  ‘Keep calm,’ he told himself. ‘Don’t show him that you’re anxious. Just play it cool.’

  He rapped lightly on the door. After a few seconds had gone by, he knocked again, louder this time. ‘Warwick?’ He grimaced. His voice had sounded horribly anxious. ‘Can I come in?’ His hand closed around the door knob and he entered the room.

  And there was Warwick – still sat at the dressing table, pen in hand, wearing his old shirt and a pair of jeans.

  ‘Dan!’ he said, looking up from his writing.

  ‘Hello,’ Dan said, looking at his wrist watch in an attempt to show Warwick the importance of his call. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Super,’ Warwick said.

  ‘Only, you’re not dressed.’

  ‘No,’ Warwick said. ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘It’s three o’clock,’ Dan said.

  ‘Oh, plenty of time then,’ Warwick said and his head bowed down towards his writing again.

  Dan gulped. ‘Erm, Warwick,’ he began uneasily, ‘now’s really not the time.’

  ‘Not the time for what?’

  ‘For writing a book.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I can’t help myself. With a book he was regardless of time.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘Pride and Prejudice – a reference to Mr Bennet reading but I’m like that when I’m writing,’ Warwick said.

  ‘Oh, I see,’ Dan said. ‘I’m still not used to everyone talking in quotes and I really should be by now.’ He paused, waiting for Warwick to pull himself together and realise that he was getting married in about an hour’s time. He cleared his throat. ‘Don’t you think you should be getting dressed?’

  Warwick looked up again as if surprised that Dan was still there. ‘In a minute,’ he said, and returned to his writing.

  Dan left the room, an uneasy cocktail of confusion and anxiety flowing through him.

  His mobile rang.

  ‘Dan?’

  ‘Robyn?’ he said, relieved to hear a friendly voice amongst all of the chaos. ‘Is everything okay?’


  She paused before answering. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean, Katherine’s been acting strangely. She keeps asking me all these questions about married life and – well – I’m not sure what’s going on.’

  ‘Oh my God! Warwick’s been acting weirdly too. He’s been sitting in his room writing all morning. He’s not even dressed yet. I can’t seem to get through to him.’

  ‘Oh, Dan! What are we going to do? I’m really worried.’

  Dan cast his eyes to the ceiling in despair. This was the first time he’d ever been a best man and he had no idea how to cope in such a situation.

  ‘Listen, can you get to the stables?’ he asked.

  ‘I think so but I can’t be too long. The carriage is arriving in an hour.’

  ‘Meet me there in five minutes, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ Robyn said and hung up.

  Leaving the hall a moment later, Dan walked down the main drive towards the stables. Ordinarily, he would have enjoyed an excuse to get outside and breathe in the warm, sweet smell of the horses but he was feeling too stressed today to take pleasure in such things.

  He was the first to arrive in the yard. The horses had all been let out in the fields hours ago and were being taken care of by a teenager in the village called Georgia who was crazy about horses and spent every hour she could in the yard at Purley. Dan walked across to the tack room to check up on things. Everything was in good order just as it should be. Georgia was worth her weight in gold.

  It was just as he was looking at his watch and wondering how long Robyn would be when a woman entered the yard. But it wasn’t Robyn; it was Carmel Hudson.

  ‘Dan!’ she said, her eyes appraising his Regency outfit and her smile informing him that she was very pleased with it. ‘Oh, dear. Is this a bad time?’

  ‘Not a bad time,’ Dan said, ‘just a busy one.’

  ‘I just wanted a quick word really,’ she said, ‘in private.’