Blurb: "When Jessica Lyons is offered the role of Elizabeth Bennet in Pride & Prejudice, it feels like fate has handed her the chance to find her very own Mr. Darcy."




Chapter one

She never saw it coming.

There was no warning. No dark sense of foreboding as the tiny black and white ball sailed across the screen and hit the back of the net.

"Yessss!" Jared jumped up, fist thrusting towards the ceiling as an exultant cry spread through the crowded pub. Her glass, knocked from her hand by the sudden movement, cartwheeled once in midair before smashing against the edge of the table.

He snatched his phone out of harm's way and dried the screen with a loving caress before stowing it safely in his pocket. His friends slithered back to avoid the spreading puddle of vodka and coke dripping off the table like an alcoholic waterfall. Those sitting at nearby tables offered cardboard coasters in a pitiful effort to mop up the mess.

Only then did he spare a thought for Jessica. "You okay?"

The white top had looked so pretty in the shop. Now it had a new pattern; a diagonal slash of dingy brown, like one of those canvases you might see hanging in the Tate Modern. Cold, wet denim clung to her thighs, as her jeans had soaked up nearly half of the liquid. Jess carefully collected some of the larger glass shards that lay in her lap as she bit back a curse. "I think I'll live."

Someone threw Jared a dry bar towel. He grinned as he blotted the coke from her chest until she snatched it off him. The day before, when he'd asked her out, his uneven grin had seemed cute. That was before four and a half pints twisted that cute grin into a lecherous leer that turned her stomach. He bent close to her ear, his beer-breath reeking. "I didn't expect you'd be practising for the wet t-shirt contest tonight."

He was right. The coke hadn't just stained her top. It had turned parts of the white polyester transparent, and Jared's mates into giggling thirteen-year-old boys. The one, admittedly tarnished, silver lining was that it had also stained her white bra a pale beige, so it was less noticeable at a distance. Jess covered the worst of the mess with the towel. "I'd better go and clean up."

"You can come back to our place if you like. We'll get you out of those wet clothes and dry them on the radiators." One of his friends laughed as Jared waggled his eyebrows.

Did he honestly think his offer would appeal to her?

Jess collected her bag and her jacket. She had no interest in spending another minute in their company. "I think I'll be okay. I'm nipping to the ladies room. I won't be—" Her words were smothered beneath a chorus of cheers and boos as one of the teams playing on TV scored another goal. She slipped through the crowd, past flashing fruit machines and the thumping bass of the jukebox, doubting whether he'd even notice she was gone.

She rinsed out the stain and held her top under the hand dryer, hoping it would dry enough for her to get home. It hadn't been a great night, even before the accident, but she couldn't lay the whole blame on Jared's slightly hunched shoulders.

It was all Jane Austen's fault.

Ms. Austen had written most of her favourite romantic heroes: those fictional but otherwise perfect specimens who existed only to sweep a girl off her feet. Yet despite years of fruitless searching, she hadn't entirely given up hope of one day finding a mild-mannered Henry Tilney, a steadfast Captain Wentworth, or—if she was really fortunate—a prideful Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Even George Wickham would be an improvement on Jared.

Everyone knew gentlemen were a dying breed but was it really asking too much to meet one? Or were they consigned to the past; only coming to life within the pages of romantic novels and dusty history books?


~~~~~

Raindrops rebounded from the pavement as the taxi stopped halfway down the deserted street of neat terraced houses. Jessica thrust a moist ten-pound note towards the driver, hunched her shoulders against the storm and flew towards the nearest front door. Once inside she peeled off her jacket, draping it over the radiator as water pooled on the tiles beneath.

Her soggy jeans stuck to her skin, and she eyed the staircase as a mountain to be conquered on her way to some warm dry clothes and a fluffy towel, until a disembodied voice floated from the kitchen.

"Is that you?"

She rolled her eyes in the semi-darkness. "No, it's my evil twin. With an axe. I thought I told you to keep the door locked at night?" She glanced in the hall mirror as she passed, running her fingers through the limp clumps of hair plastered against her head and shoulders.

A willowy figure with a mass of red curls and a retroussé nose bounced into the hallway with her arms full of towels. She wrapped a large one around Jessica's shoulders and offered a second for her hair. "I didn't want you to get any wetter while waiting for me to unlock the door. It's horrible out there. How was your date?"

Jess sighed and shook her head. "You wouldn't believe it."

"Pity. I had high hopes for Jared. I thought he showed promise. You go upstairs and get changed, while I put some milk on for cocoa. Then you can tell me all about it."

Jessica smiled at the motherly tone in her house mate's voice but did as she was told. She peeled off her jeans before shrugging herself into pink flannelette pyjamas. Ten minutes later she'd snuggled into the corner of the sofa, wrapped in her soft dressing gown, her hands around a warm mug, inhaling the chocolaty aroma.

Beatrice sat in the chair opposite, her back straight and legs crossed, yoga-style. "So Jared didn't climb too high on your scale of eligible bachelors then?"

"I think even a three would be too generous."

"Not even a Frank Churchill? Ouch. He seemed like quite the gentleman when he bumped into you in the café...all polite and apologetic. You were only meeting him for drinks. How could he mess that up?"

"The first half hour was fine. We were chatting about his job and I thought it was going well. Then his friends turned up and the whole evening suddenly morphed into a boys' night out. At that point, I became slightly less important that the match they were showing on the big screen. I don't expect to be the centre of any man's world, but I would like to rank a bit higher than a stupid ball game, particularly on a first date. It's not as if they were playing a major cup tie, or something important. It was an Italian league game." As Jess described the accident with her drink she realised Jared hadn't even apologised.

"Perhaps you were best off out of it."

"That's what I thought, so when I'd dried off I decided to come home. By the time I left the pub it was throwing it down outside, and I was only wearing my short jacket, so I went for a taxi instead of waiting for the bus."

"If you came home in a taxi how did you get so wet?"

Jess shivered involuntarily as she recalled the moment she'd been drenched by the filthy water. "I swear the first cab drove through the puddle in front of me on purpose. There was no way he didn't see me. So I went from damp to soaked in a matter of seconds. To top it off, the second taxi driver complained about my wet clothes messing up his upholstery and tried to charge me extra. If I hadn't been so desperate to get home I would have told him where to stuff his taxi."

Bea grinned. "Go on, say it."

"What?"

"The same thing you say whenever you have an awful date. Where are all the real gentlemen these days?"

"Wherever they are I can tell you they don't spend much time in the Frog and Dolphin." Her gaze drifted to her shelf next to the TV, which held all her classic novels and her collection of period drama DVDs. She loved the whole idea of living in a time where men removed their hats, bowed to the ladies and didn't feel the need to check their phone every five seconds. "Is it too much to ask for a man's undivided attention for a couple of hours?"

"These days, yes. Besides, you don't just want their attention, Jess. You want someone to sweep you off your feet. You bring all this disappointment on yourself by reading those stupid romance books. Jane Austen is a danger to the sanity of womankind, by raising false hopes all over the world. If she wasn't long dead already I'd be tempted to strangle her myself. You need to realise that modern men aren't like those guys with the tall hats that you watch on telly every week."

"Don't be ridiculous. I don't watch them that often."

"Every other week then. Face it, you're obsessed with those brooding, Byronic heroes with the baggy shirts and tight breeches. What is it about them that you love so much? I never thought Mr. Darcy was all that. He's a stuck up snob at the beginning, thinking he's better than everyone else. His first proposal is borderline offensive."

"You're missing the point. He has to start out like a jerk so he can become a better man. I like the way he listens to Elizabeth, even if he doesn't always understand what she's saying. He goes to visit her, but he's tongue-tied and embarrassed. Once he falls in love with her, his feelings are constant, and he doesn't stop loving her, even after she rejects him. Mr. Darcy is the kind of man who would hold the door for you and allow you to go through first, rather than letting it slam in your face. He would walk nearest to the road, to protect you from sadistic taxi drivers and puddles. He wouldn't spend all night on his phone, or watching football, because he's only interested in you." She sighed. "I just want to meet someone like that, but there's not many of them around these days. At least, not under sixty."

"At the theatre, Giovanni holds the door for me all the time. He's very sensitive and romantically minded, and he's not even thirty yet."

"I thought you said he was gay?"

Bea shrugged. "All the best dancers are, but you're going to have to lower your standards if you don't want to be perpetually disappointed. You'll never find a man you can be happy with if you measure them all against a mythological creature like Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"You're probably right. Besides, even if he did exist chances are he's most likely married."

"Exactly. You need to cut all these twenty-first-century guys some slack. Then you might not be disappointed so often." Bea uncurled from the chair and stretched her arms above her head before collecting the empty mugs. "Bedtime for me. I have early rehearsals tomorrow. Did you see those letters I left on the table? They were on the mat when I got home."

The brown envelope contained a phone bill. The other had a return address for an office in Streatham; a place she'd visited only a fortnight ago. She ran a shaky finger under the flap and pulled out a thick booklet; a script she already knew by heart. A smile grew as she returned to the living room. "Do you still think I can't find a real-life Mr. Darcy?"

"Never. Like the Yeti, he doesn't exist."

"He does, or at least he will do next month." She waved the script in front of Bea's eyes. "I got the job."

"Which one?"

As the reality sank in her excitement bubbled up inside, like a balloon about to pop. "The job! The one in Derbyshire I told you about. I'm going to be playing the part of Elizabeth Bennet, with the Regency dresses and everything!"

Bea laughed. "You lucky cow. So you will be meeting a Mr. Darcy after all. I hope the poor guy realises what he's taken on, playing a role that embodies every virtue. Being the perfect man must be so boring. How long will you be away for?"

"It's a short project for the local tourist office; part of some Jane Austen celebration week they're putting on. We'll have three days prep and rehearsal, then I'll be acting out selected scenes from Pride and Prejudice every morning and afternoon for seven days."

"Only ten days? It's a pity that won't give you very long to get to know Mr. Darcy. And they're actually paying you for this?"

"Not a lot, but to be honest I'd almost have done it for free. We'll be staying in a beautiful stately home, in the middle of nowhere. They're providing all the food and accommodation, and the house is only open in the daytime, so there are no evening performances. I don't care that the money is awful. I've always dreamed about having Jane Austen on my resume, and this might be my only chance. It'll be like spending the week in a real-life period drama."



~<>~@~<>~



Chapter Two


As her taxi drove through the ornamental gates, Jessica craned her neck to catch her first glimpse of Exley Hall. The winding ribbon of tarmac took them past a herd of deer, dotted across the wide paddock, while real sheep roamed bumpy fields in the distance. The only sheep Jess normally saw were the stylised drawings on her shrink-wrapped lamb chops.

After a few more minutes the road descended into a valley, revealing the hall, squatting in the landscape like some kind of stone tomb. Signs by the roadside identified points of interest, such as the Japanese garden or the Orangery. One arrow pointed to the car park, while another directed visitors to the reception and ticket office.

Jess asked directions from a cheery young woman wearing an Exley Hall sweatshirt. She followed the path around the outside of the house, and down a flight of steps, to reach the basement room being used as a temporary office for their production. Inside, a laptop hummed while a harassed female with a phone in each hand seemed to be holding two separate conversations at once. She pointed towards the spare chair and Jess sat down, waiting until the call was finished before introducing herself.

The woman brushed the loose wisps of blonde hair back from her face. "Hello! Sorry to keep you waiting. My name's Mandy." She picked up a clipboard, her pen sliding down the list of names until she located Jess. "Ah, you're our Miss Bennet! You're a bit early. We didn't expect anyone for another hour or two yet."

"Unfortunately the local trains don't run too often this far away from the main line, and the next one would have been half an hour too late."

"Well, at least you had no problem finding us. Let me show you to your room. It looks like I'll be coordinating things on my own for now. My boss was supposed to be here, but I think she might have resigned. It's a nightmare!" One of the phones started ringing again. Mandy sighed, checked the screen and declined the call. "We'd better get moving before they try again. Follow me."

They passed through a long corridor and up a flight of narrow stairs that took them from the basement level to the ground floor of the house. At the top of the stairs, she unclipped a rope marking the staircase as out of bounds to visitors. "We're going to meet in the blue drawing room at six o'clock. That's this room here." She pointed to a door that stood ajar, next to a full suit of armour. "But the house doesn't close to the public until five so until then you can get yourself settled in your room. It's on the top floor, in the old servant's quarters." The melody on her phone played again. Apologising, she glanced at the clipboard and waved towards a grander staircase. "Go up two flights, ignore the no entry sign, and then take the corridor on your left. Yours is the fourth room on the right. You can't miss it."

When Jessica reached the top of the second flight of stairs, she paused to catch her breath. The drab walls and bare floorboards had probably seen hundreds of servants come and go over the two hundred and fifty years of Exley Hall's history. For the next week it would be her home away from home. She counted the doors until she reached the one she'd been assigned and peeked inside.

Spreading her arms wide she couldn't quite touch both walls at the same time, but it only lacked a few inches. A narrow bed, pushed against the wall, stood opposite an ancient chest with three drawers. The dozen hooks screwed into the wall and a handful of hangers was the closest she'd get to a wardrobe. The only concession to modernity was a tiny hand basin squashed into the corner behind the door, the mirror above barely larger than a paperback novel.

Jessica sank onto the end of the bed, making a couple of experimental bounces on the lumpy mattress. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it looked. As she ran her hand over the cool cotton quilt cover she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Despite its size, the bedroom wasn't all bad. She'd slept in worse, including a B&B in Brighton that had been memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Standing on tiptoe she peered through the grimy dormer window set high in the angled ceiling, but all she could see were the tops of the ancient trees that dotted the lawn, and a sliver of the hills in the distance.

Jess looked at her watch. She had more than an hour to kill so she settled onto the bed, allowing her head to sink into the soft pillow. Jess felt tense and stiff, like a coiled spring waiting for its release. It was nothing more than her eagerness to meet the group of people she would be working with over the next ten days. This week's work would not earn her any glowing reviews, but at least she could look back and say she had spent a week with Mr. Darcy.

Wasn't that every woman's dream come true?


~~~~~

She woke with a start, her eyes snapping open as she looked around. The bed must have been more comfortable than she thought because she'd dozed off. Panic rising, she looked at her watch, and then released a breath. She'd only slept for a little over an hour, and there was still plenty of time before she had to make her way downstairs.

Before her nap, the house had been silent, but now she could hear the faint murmur of voices in nearby rooms; a sign she was no longer the only resident of the attic corridor. The brief squeal of furniture moving against a floorboard, or the sounds of running water and squeaky taps were strangely comforting. At half past five, Jess ducked and dived in front of the mirror, trying to see enough of her head in one go to be sure she looked presentable. She freshened up her make-up, took a deep breath and opened her door.

The man standing in the doorway of the room opposite hadn't expected to see her either, and there was a second or two of awkward silence before he cleared his throat. "Hi, I...I'm Gareth."

Jessica's heart sank as she shook the offered hand. The sandy-haired actor looked to be in his late twenties, but with a boyish kind of innocence that suggested he could easily play younger. Sadly his beige cable-knit sweater and studious metal-rimmed glasses shouted tax accountant, rather than dashing Austen hero. No...no, he couldn't be Darcy. He didn't have the noble mien and stately bearing necessary for the role.

Actor he might be, but nobody was that good.

She forced her lips into a smile. "Hi, I'm Jessica. Are...um...are you going to be Darcy?" She mentally crossed her fingers and held her breath, praying for a negative.

He pulled a face. "God, no. No, no...definitely not Darcy. Charles Bingley, at your service." His stiff bow showed that he, at least, knew something of the time period they would be working in.

Jess relaxed, laughing at herself for jumping to such ridiculous conclusions. Yes, she could definitely picture him as a nice-but-dim Mr. Bingley. "Of course you are. Well, we'd better get downstairs and meet the others."

She headed down to the blue drawing room, and Mr. Bingley followed along in silence. He obviously wasn't big on small talk, but Jess didn't mind. She was more focused on the excitement of getting to know the other cast members. The room was empty apart from Mandy, who was still working her phone like a double glazing salesman. The poor woman paced back and forth, talking in a low but earnest voice.

With its blue chintz wallpaper and damask curtains, their meeting room was one of the poshest Jess had ever seen. They had a choice of settees and sofas, along with a couple of extra chairs standing against the wall. Mandy had set up a flip-chart in front of the fireplace, and there were refreshments on a table by the window. The man playing Bingley offered to pour her a tea or a coffee, but she declined, and he left her to her thoughts.

Jess already knew their cast was small. No more than ten people had been hired to bring scenes from Pride and Prejudice to life within the elegant rooms of Exley Hall. Jessica wondered when the other eight were going to arrive. A few minutes later four people entered together. A glance over the group told her that Mr. Darcy wasn't among them.

The recent arrivals were a varied bunch. An ageing, portly thespian called Gerald introduced himself as Mr. Gardiner, while Mrs Gardiner turned out to be a small woman with a kind, smiling face and short, curly hair. She introduced herself as Alison and mentioned that she'd just finished a short season of repertory theatre in Birmingham. A doe-eyed ingenue called Emily, whose only claim to fame was a short stint on TV as a child, would be playing the sixteen-year-old Georgiana, while the fourth was a dark-haired young woman of similar age to Jessica. She introduced herself as Laura but would be better known to them as Jane Bennet.

"But I thought Jane Bennet was blonde?" Young Emily blushed as all eyes turned in her direction.

Laura fingered her dark pixie cut with an apologetic smile. "They said something about providing a wig."

"You know, the book never describes Jane as blonde," Jessica said. "It only says she's the most beautiful of the Bennet sisters." There was no doubt that this Jane was beautiful. She had the bluest eyes Jess had ever seen.

Laura smiled at the description of her character. "I don't know about being beautiful, but at least you won't need a wig to play Elizabeth. Your hair is perfect."

Jess twisted a lock of her long brown hair consciously around a finger. Two months ago she'd been thinking of cutting it short, but she hadn't had the heart. When the Jane Austen audition had been advertised Jess had taken it as a positive omen that she'd made the right choice. Once her hair was put up, they'd only need a few minutes with the curling tongs and it would be perfect.

They settled into two small groups. Mr. and Mrs Gardiner, being of a similar age, gravitated towards each other, taking Georgiana with them. Jessica wasn't surprised that Laura ended up sitting next to the man who would play Bingley, or that the two of them had fallen into an easy conversation.

She took a moment to ponder who, apart from Mr. Darcy, was yet to arrive. She barely had the chance to tick Mrs Reynolds off on her fingers when an older woman wearing a short tweed jacket and sensible shoes appeared in the doorway; her steel grey eyes casting a razor-sharp glance around the assembled cast. "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen."

Mandy, briefly between phone calls, made another mark on her clipboard. "Ah, Mrs Green. If you'd like to take a seat, we'll begin in a few minutes."

The elderly Mrs Green strode across the room, choosing to sit next to the Gardiners. Shortly after, a stocky older man with salt-and-pepper hair entered with far more grace than she would have expected from his size. He apologised for being late and introduced himself as Trevor. Jessica was surprised to learn that he would play the part of the Pemberley butler, Mr. Flint.

Laura pulled out a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice from her bag and flicked through the pages. "I can't remember Jane Austen writing about a butler."

Jess, who knew the book back to front, agreed. "There was no butler in Pride and Prejudice. The only servant mentioned at Pemberley was Mrs Reynolds."

Mandy, perched on the edge of a table, looked up from her notes. "The organisers of this event thought that the visitors would expect to see a butler, even though one is not specifically mentioned in Miss Austen's novel. As Mr. Flint, Trevor will lend some gravitas to the proceedings as well as formally welcoming the visitors, directing them to the beginning of the house tour and explaining the various locations where the performances will take place."

"That is perfectly correct," Mrs Green's sharp voice added from across the room. "It would be historically accurate, of course, to include a butler in the household. I'm only surprised they didn't hire a few extras to play footmen or maids as well."

"I'm not." Mr. Gardiner rubbed his fingertips together. "It's all extra cash, ain't it?"

Georgiana moved next to Jessica, Jane and Bingley. She leant forward, her voice little more than a shy whisper. "Does anyone know who's playing Mr. Darcy?"

Bingley shrugged. "There were a few others there when I went for my audition, more Darcy types than Bingleys actually, but I have no idea who got the part in the end."

"There should be the two Bingley sisters to come, as well," Jane said as she scanned a random page in her book.

"No, they've only hired someone to play Caroline. They said it would save them money, and if the films can do it so can they."

As a fan, Jessica would have preferred them to stick as closely to the book as possible and thought their employers were a bit tight-fisted. She looked around their little group and saw a general agreement. Productions always seemed to be looking for ways to save money.

"Although the costumes I saw were very nice," Georgiana added, just as the doors opened.

All conversation ceased as the last two members of their group arrived. Although Jessica had never met either of them before, the actress who would be playing Caroline looked and behaved just as Jessica expected; tall and slim with a supercilious air that pronounced her above mere mortals.

Ruth Swale was garrulous, introducing herself with a hearty "hello" to each cast member, and treating them all to a secret smile that promised friendship but had little warmth in it. While she was pretty, there was a hard, angular look to her face that stopped her from being beautiful.

When Jessica's gaze slid to her companion, she sucked in a breath. Slightly taller than Bingley, their Mr. Darcy had a strong jaw, a straight, noble nose and dark brown hair tumbling in loose curls that made him look a little like a young Colin Firth. And his eyes...well, it was fortunate Jessica was sitting down.

The casting gods must have been smiling down on them, as they'd found the perfect Mr. Darcy. He was her Austen dream come true.

The man who would be Darcy had held himself back from the group while Ruth was introducing herself. Jessica couldn't decide whether he was just being polite or if he was as taciturn as the character he would be playing. When Caroline had completed her turn in the spotlight she turned towards him. "And this, of course, is our Mr. Darcy...Sebastian Fox."

He nodded to the group and offered a quick hello before lowering himself into the nearest chair. The dimples that appeared when he smiled only added to his charm, and she had to wonder how she would manage to work with him when a mere smile could turn her knees weak. Even out of costume he looked every bit the elegant gentleman.

Georgiana leant towards Jessica and Jane, her eyes bright with excitement. "Sebastian Fox! I saw him in a West End production once; Dickens, I think. He's also spent six months as second understudy with the Royal Shakespeare Company. Isn't he gorgeous?"

Jess had to agree. Sebastian Fox would make a perfect Darcy. The only question left in her mind now was whether she would live up to his idea of a perfect Elizabeth Bennet.




~<>~@~<>~

Chapter three


The clock chimed six as Mandy took up her position at the front of the room. "Thanks for arriving on time, everyone. Welcome to Exley Hall." She collected a handful of loose papers from the table and cleared her throat. "You all know what we'll be doing next week, but maybe not why we're doing it. This beautiful old building is celebrating it's two hundred and fiftieth birthday next Thursday, and the owners, along with the local tourist board, are hoping to cash in on their Jane Austen connection to increase visitor numbers."

Mrs Green raised a thin, wrinkled hand. "Is there a Jane Austen connection?"

"They think Miss Austen might have visited Exley Hall while she was travelling in Derbyshire. She mentions the house in her letters, and as the nearest village is called Lambley it's given some people the idea that the house and village were the inspiration for Pemberley and Lambton in her book. This is why the owners decided on the Jane Austen theme for their celebration."

Mandy peeled back the cover of the flip-chart. "There have been a few last minute changes, so I'll need to run through our timetable for the next ten days. Sunday will be our first day of performances. Monday and Tuesday we're sharing the house with the Jane Austen Convention, so we'll have to fit our running times around their talks and lectures. On Thursday there is a Regency fair and tea-party in the grounds, so they're expecting the most visitors then. Next Saturday will be our final day."

She turned the page, revealing a bullet-pointed list. "Here are the eleven scenes we'll be presenting to the house visitors. We will show each scene in a different room of the house. Hopefully, you've all spent some time learning your lines."

Mrs Green's hand rose again. "Why are we not doing the whole play? Would that not be easier than messing about with individual scenes?"

Mandy shrugged. "The owners wanted to encourage more visitors into the house. They tried 'Shakespeare in the Park' here a couple of years ago, but it was rained off. My boss suggested this kind of pop-up theatre, using the rooms on the house tour. Fortunately, Exley Hall is perfectly set out for this. The internal corridor can function as our backstage area, while the public walk through each room behind the red ropes. You'll be performing in the parts of the room the visitors aren't allowed to enter, so please be careful of the furniture and antiques, and try not to break anything.

"Tomorrow we'll rehearse downstairs in the servants' hall during the day, and after tea I'll show you around the rooms where our scenes will be set. On Saturday Exley Hall will be closed to the public for health and safety reasons, because they need to erect the marquee for the convention. That gives us a great opportunity to rehearse in the house all day on Saturday, so you can block out your scenes and get an idea how much space you'll have available to move around."

The eleven scenes were split into two acts. The first five would be presented during the morning session, which ran from ten in the morning until twelve-thirty. After an hour for lunch, they would cover the remaining six scenes before the house closed at five.

"Jessica, Gerald, Alison and Emily. Your first scene will be in the breakfast room, where the Gardiners and Elizabeth talk about visiting Pemberley."

"Why do they need Georgiana?" Trevor asked before Jess had the chance.

"Emily will be doubling up as the chambermaid serving them breakfast at the Lambton Inn," Mandy said, before turning her attention to the second item on the list. "Jessica, Gerald, Alison. You'll also be in scene two, where Mrs Reynolds shows them around the house. That scene will be next door in the yellow parlour, with Mrs Green."

Alison sighed as she looked up from her script. "So many names to remember! Given that we'll only be together for a week, wouldn't it make more sense if we all answer to our character names?" Glancing around the room at the others, she counted their silent shrugs and nods. "Thank you. I'm sure that will make things easier for all of us."

Laura, who Jess had already begun to think of as Jane Bennet, put her hand up. "The fifth scene of the afternoon session is titled 'Lady Catherine's visit', but we don't have a Lady Catherine."

Mandy smiled. "Mrs Green will be playing the dual roles of Mrs Reynolds and Lady Catherine."

This was news to everyone except Mrs Green. "Housekeeper in the morning, irascible Aunt in the afternoon. Now that's what I call job satisfaction."

Georgiana leaned forward. "B...but if we're using our character names what should we call you? Mrs Reynolds or Lady Catherine?"

A rare gleam of humour lit up the old woman's face. "Let's stick to Mrs Reynolds, shall we?"

An older woman wearing an apron interrupted their meeting to let them know dinner was ready. The production assistant rolled her eyes, but couldn't really ask the catering staff to keep the food warm until the meeting ended. Instead, she invited them downstairs, where the old servant's hall would serve as their canteen, rehearsal space and green room during their stay.

The narrow staircase down to the basement created a bottleneck of bodies in the corridor. Jess was near the back of the group when Sebastian moved next to Laura. "You must be playing Elizabeth Bennet."

"No...no, I'm not. I'm Jane."

He frowned. "Really? But then who...?" His question tailed off as he scanned the group. After discounting Georgiana's youthful appearance, Jane laughed and pointed behind him to where Jess was hiding.

He turned, and for the first time she had Sebastian Fox's full attention.

Although Jess didn't mind being stared at, she'd never been stared at by Mr. Darcy before. Even wearing jeans and a collarless shirt his height and imposing presence made her feel jittery. Then he chuckled as he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I ought to have known. Of course you're Elizabeth! What a stupid mistake for me to make, and how very Darcy-like." He held out a hand to Jess. "Good evening, Miss Bennet. I'm Sebastian, and I'll be your Darcy."

Just hearing him say those words set off a tiny tremble in her stomach, and she stumbled over her own name. Instead of shaking her offered hand, he lifted it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to her fingers. Jess felt her face grow warm and hoped she didn't look like a blushing schoolgirl.

"You know, I'm not usually such an idiot," he continued with genial self-deprecation. "I can assure you that, unlike Darcy, I don't make a habit of sticking my nose in the air or ignoring beautiful women." Perhaps to prove his point Mr. Darcy offered an arm, escorting her down the stairs to the low-ceilinged hall.

The rest of the evening passed in a whirl for Jessica. It felt natural for Sebastian to sit at the head of the table, but not before he'd made sure she was settled in the chair next to his. The understandable awkwardness she often felt when meeting a new set of castmates for the first time was lessened by his innate ease and friendliness, and an aptitude for drawing others from around the long rectangular table into the conversation.

During the evening, Sebastian enquired about her previous work, and later offered some stories of his own. His resume was far more impressive than hers, although no one listening to the conversation could ever have accused him of boasting. Caroline—who had pounced on the chair to his right like a lioness hunting a gazelle—made an effort to overshadow Jessica with a long list of successful theatre productions and minor TV appearances. If she was hoping to snag Mr. Darcy's full attention, then she must have been disappointed, because, just as in the book, he didn't pay her much notice at all.

At almost twenty-four, Jessica had thought herself inured to a handsome face. You couldn't spend more than ten years hanging around theatres, with its ever-changing stock of good-looking young men, without becoming disillusioned with the species. Yet Sebastian Fox was not just incredibly handsome. He was also a patient and sympathetic listener. He tolerated Caroline's efforts to dominate the conversation, and even laughed at Mr. Flint's awful jokes.

After dinner, the cast remained around the table, nursing their drinks as they reminisced over past productions, famous names and ancient scandals, until the older members of the group decided to retire. By unspoken agreement, the whole cast climbed the three flights of stairs together, and each cast member called out their goodnights as they disappeared through their own doors. Mr. Flint's room was just before Jessica's, while Jane's was on the far side.

As Jessica reached for the door handle she sensed Sebastian behind her.

Bingley, his eyes shifting between the pair of them, frowned as he wished Jessica goodnight and returned to his room opposite hers. She spun around. They were alone in the corridor; Darcy pensive and silent as he stared down at her. "Where is your room?" She winced, mentally kicking herself as soon as she's said it. She'd grasped the question for want of something to say, not thinking how forward it might sound until it left her lips.

He grinned at her discomfort but seemed to understand that she hadn't meant it as a request for a personal tour of his bedroom. "Back there, nearest the stairs."

The implication couldn't be clearer. He'd walked past his own room to see her safely to hers. Despite having met Sebastian only a few hours earlier, he'd already climbed higher up her Darcy scale than any man she'd known in the last four years.

"Well, in that case...we have an early start tomorrow, so I'll...I'll see you in the morning." Hopefully, by then, she would have untangled all the knots in her tongue.

He shared a smile of understanding as he bowed his head. "Sleep well, Miss Bennet."



~~~~~


Breakfast began at seven o'clock sharp. Only Mr. Flint and Mr. Gardiner were morning people, as they huddled over the sports section of the daily paper, discussing the latest odds on the three-thirty at Ascot. The others consumed their bacon and eggs or cereal and toast in what passed for silence among their transitory community.

By nine o'clock they'd cleared the room, and moved the large table to one end, allowing space for the cast to rehearse.

"I confess I would love to see Pemberley again," Aunt Gardiner said with a sigh as they began with the first scene.

"Are we close by?"

"A mere five miles from Lambton. It would be no more than a mile or two out of our way," Mr. Gardiner confirmed. "I have no objection if your aunt wishes to go."

"My love, should not you like to see a place of which you have heard so much? A place, too, with which so many of your acquaintance are connected. Wickham passed all his youth there, you know."

"I must own that I am weary of great houses, after visiting so many during our journey." Jess infused her words with all the reluctance she knew Elizabeth Bennet would have felt at the idea of visiting Pemberley without an invitation.

"If it were merely a fine house richly furnished I should not care about it myself, but the grounds are delightful." Mrs Gardiner swatted at a fly with her script. "Not that my room is richly furnished, of course," she added, dropping out of character. "There's not enough space to swing a cat. Very different from the Master Suite. Have you seen the main rooms upstairs yet?" When Jessica shook her head, Mrs Gardiner sat back in her chair. "Very elegant. Imagine what it must have been like to sleep in the Master's chamber with the blue and gold draperies, and that huge bed with twisted posts." Her smile widened as she paraphrased from the book: "To be Mistress of Pemberley would have been something indeed!"

Emily giggled. "The Mistress of Exley Hall isn't enjoying the benefits. I've heard the Major and his wife sleep in a small set of apartments in the east wing."

"Don't blame them at all," Mr. Gardiner said, laughing. "Can you imagine how it would be if they overslept one morning and found tourists wandering through their bedroom?"

Mandy's entrance cut their laughter short, and they returned to the beginning to try it again. A brief time later, they moved onto the next scene, where Mrs Reynolds would show them around Pemberley and talk about her favourite subject.

"I have heard much of your master's fine person," said Mrs Gardiner, as she pretended curiosity in an imaginary miniature. "It is a handsome face. But, Lizzy, you can tell us whether it is like or not."

Mrs Reynolds frowned and looked at her script. "Shouldn't it be like him or not ?"

"No, it clearly says like or not ."

"Who wrote this script?"

Mr. Gardiner grinned. "Wasn't it Jane Austen?"

Mrs Reynolds shot him a withering glance before purposefully turning away from him and resuming character. "Does that young lady know Mr. Darcy?"

"A little."

"And do not you think him a very handsome gentleman, ma'am?"

She cast a quick glance at the man himself, sitting in the far corner of the room, talking to Mr. Flint. "Yes...yes, he is very handsome."

Following the direction of her gaze, Mrs Reynolds snorted. "And I've no doubt he would agree with you about that," she replied, in an undertone. "It seems our Mr. Darcy thinks very highly of himself indeed."




~<>~@~<>~



Chapter four


As rehearsals continued, each cast member received a summons to the makeshift wardrobe department, where racks of costumes, a sewing machine and two ironing boards were squeezed into the old housekeeper's room. They called Jess in just before lunch, which provided her with a much-needed respite. She'd found it rather exhausting to work with Mrs Reynolds while she was in Lady Catherine mode.

When Jess opened the door the smell of freshly laundered cotton wafted over her; the comforting aroma rekindling memories from earlier times, sitting with the theatre dressers while they were mending tears or adjusting seams. Sebastian stood in the centre of the room while two women hovered around him, pinning here or adjusting there.

He smiled as soon as he saw her, and held out his arms, turning slowly. "Well, what do you think? Does Miss Bennet approve?"

She allowed her gaze to slide over his form, taking in his stone-coloured breeches and stockings, embroidered waistcoat and snowy-white shirt. On top he wore a navy coat with shiny brass buttons, its tails reaching almost to the back of his knees, while the cut-away front seemed explicitly designed to emphasise the wearer's masculinity.

Catching his eye Jessica realised that he still expected an answer. "Yes, Mr. Darcy. I approve very much. You look very smart. Every inch a gentleman." Some inches more so than others.

His answering grin held a touch of satisfaction, as though he knew just what was going through her mind. "I'm glad you think so. Would you mind giving me your opinion on this one?" He shook his fingers impatiently towards a second coat hanging on the rack. One of the assistants fell over herself to help him out of the blue coat, while the other held out a second for him to slip his arms into.

Jessica sighed. It was dark green, and again he looked wonderful.

After spending a few moments appreciating just how well he fit into his costume, one of the women in the room reluctantly turned her attention towards Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Jessica had learnt from a young age that there was no place for modesty in show business. The changing rooms were nothing more than an open space behind two racks of clothing, standing across opposite corners of the room. However, seeing her own costumes, with their high empire waistlines, distracted her from any embarrassment. The first gown was a simple white cotton, decorated with delicate lace, and a deep frill at the bottom. The second dress had long sleeves and an all-over pattern of tiny blue flowers on a cream background.

After temporarily pinning up Jessica's long hair, the dresser settled a short velvet jacket over her shoulders before moving around to the front. Once she'd made a few adjustments—mumbling instructions around an assortment of pins sticking out from between her lips—she stepped back and instructed Jessica to turn around so she could check her handiwork.

The whole ensemble looked perfect, as though she'd stepped back in history to the early 19th century. Inhabiting the clothes made such a difference, and really helped her to feel like Elizabeth Bennet.

"Oh yes, that's very nice."

Jess started. She had been so busy studying her reflection in the tall mirrors that she'd almost forgotten Mr. Darcy, who had returned to his everyday clothes. Leaning on the rail he twirled his finger around in the air, requesting a second rotation. When she obliged he nodded his appreciation. "And without the jacket?"

His question sent the assistant scurrying to do his bidding. As they peeled the little coat from around her shoulders, Jessica felt strangely under-dressed in the thin muslin, even though it covered her from collarbone to ankle. She did a second turn for him, without waiting to be asked.

"Miss Bennet has exquisite taste, I see." By the time she glanced back at Sebastian, his attention had turned to something on the props table; the fob watch, chain and seal that would complete his outfit.

She wondered why he was still hanging around. "Is no one waiting for you to rehearse?"

He shrugged. "All my scenes are with you. Besides, they'll be calling lunch in ten minutes. I thought I'd wait and escort you there. I trust you have no objection?"

Of course she couldn't object. The wardrobe staff seemed to look upon her with a new-found respect, and set to work a little faster to complete the last minute adjustments to her dress before they allowed her to slide it carefully over her shoulders. She settled comfortably into her jeans and t-shirt and they left wardrobe to head to lunch.



~~~~~


That afternoon, the cast worked their way through the remaining scenes. Mr. Darcy played his part to perfection, seeming to know exactly the amount of assurance and deference to give to the role. As they took up their positions for each scene he transformed, giving himself a more noble mien and regal aspect. If he'd reminded Jessica of Mr. Darcy in the blue drawing room the previous evening, it was nothing to the way he looked when he was consciously playing the part.

"If we had known you would be at home, Mr. Darcy, we would never have dreamed of invading your privacy. Your housekeeper informed us that you would not be here until tomorrow. Indeed, before we left Bakewell we understood you were not immediately expected in the country." Jess bit her lip, hoping she'd coloured Elizabeth's lines with the right amount of apologetic embarrassment.

Mr. Darcy stood, seemingly at ease, yet Sebastian subtly conveyed his character's own agitation by twisting the signet ring on his right hand. "That is true. Business with my steward occasioned my coming forward a few hours before the rest of my party. They will join me early tomorrow, including some who can claim an acquaintance with you; Mr. Bingley and his sisters." He paused for a scripted beat before adding, "One person in our party more particularly wishes to be known to you. Will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance during your stay at Lambton?"

Knowing how surprised Elizabeth would be by his question, Jess dropped her gaze to the floor in a show of bashful modesty. "I would be happy to make her acquaintance,"

Sebastian's shoulders fell as his voice returned to its natural timbre. "Can you imagine how Darcy was feeling at this point? I know he was tongue-tied and awkward the first time he met her in the garden, but he must have been so aroused, knowing that the woman he loved was right there, standing outside his own house."

"Is that all you men ever think about?"

"That's not the point. This time in history must have been hell for any man in love. No phones, no internet, and no way of communicating without breaking all those ridiculous etiquette rules. He hasn't seen her in months, thought she hated him, and all of a sudden there she is!"

Jess sighed. "I know. It's so romantic."

"Romantic? It must have been agony for him. His mind would have been full of her, wondering what she would look like under all those layers. Although he couldn't even hold her hand, don't think for one second he wasn't imagining all the places he might be touching her if they were alone."

"No, no. Mr. Darcy is...was a gentleman. He was happy to see Elizabeth and eager for her to meet his sister. He wanted to show her that he had changed...that he wasn't the same man she'd rejected earlier in the book."

"Men haven't changed that much in two hundred years. Being a man, I think I can safely say what we as a species spend most of our time thinking about." His stare became more firmly fixed in her direction. "Particularly when a man finds a woman who interests him. It's human nature, I'm afraid."

Slightly flustered by his look—a look she would have described as meaningful if she tended towards the melodramatic—Jessica picked up the pages of her script again and suggested that they ought to continue with the scene. He made no argument, and they began again from the first line.

By the time they reached the proposal, Mr. Flint and Mr. and Mrs Gardiner stood by the door, while Georgiana perched on one of the chairs next to Caroline. Jane and Bingley were sitting to one side, exchanging whispers as they watched the final scene play out.

Darcy turned suddenly, staring at Elizabeth with an intensity she thought might burn her soul. "You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged. One word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

Jessica blushed and looked down at her feet, feeling almost as nervous as Elizabeth Bennet must have felt upon hearing his declaration. "Mr. Darcy. My...my sentiments on this occasion are so...so very different from your previous declaration that I imagine you must think me quite fickle. My feelings have altered, to such a startling degree, that it is almost impossible for me to sufficiently express my gratitude of your happy assurances."

Darcy's face seemed to transform; one minute grim determination, the next an exquisite happiness that made him glow. He took a step closer, capturing her hands in his as he looked into her eyes. "Miss Bennet! Elizabeth! Is it true? Dare I hope I have won your love?"

A withering voice by the door shattered the romantic moment. "You've got to be joking! Dare I hope I have won your love? My cat could write better than this rubbish." Everyone turned to look at Mrs Reynolds, who shook her head, her lips pursed in disgust. "I realise they have no original dialogue to borrow from, but couldn't they come up with anything better than that?" As the previously quiet room erupted with overlapping opinions her sharp voice cut through the noise. "You!" She pointed a bony finger at Sebastian. "What do you think Darcy would say if you didn't have to spout this drivel?"

"I don't think he would have said anything. If I was in Darcy's position, hearing her words, I would grab Elizabeth and kiss her senseless. Any real man would do the same." He paused until he had the attention of everyone present. "All Miss Austen wrote in her book was that he expressed himself just as you would expect from a man violently in love. That doesn't mean it was necessarily a verbal expression of love. Of course, back then she couldn't say they kissed, but I'll bet everyone understood what she meant at the time." His gaze met Jessica's. "If I was violently in love, and the woman of my dreams had just accepted my proposal, I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off her."

Mrs Green nodded her approval. "The most natural reaction is often the best. We'll see what Mandy says." She wandered off to find the production assistant.

"Well, I think it's an excellent idea," Mrs Gardiner said. "We need something to liven up the story, and really get the audience applauding."

Jane stood up. "It's hardly in keeping with the spirit of the book though, is it? I don't think the Jane Austen fans will like it."

Bingley's usually placid features were tense. "Darcy is supposed to be a gentleman, and no gentleman would behave in that way."

"It's a terrible idea," Caroline said. "Change the dialogue, by all means, but there's no need for a physical kiss. It would completely ruin the power of the scene, and isn't anything like the book."

Even shy little Georgiana felt compelled to share her opinion. "We really ought to follow the script, don't you think? Otherwise, we might get in trouble."

Mr. Gardiner shrugged. "I don't care what you do, but make your mind up. I'd like to finish this first run-through before dinner. I'm starving."

Sebastian smiled. "The quicker we decide, the sooner we can finish rehearsing." When Mandy arrived Darcy explained his idea, and she agreed that they should at least try it out.

Moving back to her starting place, Jess dried her damp palms on her jeans and took a couple of deep breaths to relax as she waited for Darcy to join her. She hadn't been this nervous since her last opening night. It wasn't that she objected to kisses in general, but she hadn't expected to be kissed, on stage, by Mr. Darcy.

"Let's try it again." Darcy took up position next to her and leaned closer, whispering, "Relax. It'll be fine. You'll see."

Jess felt a tangle of anticipation growing inside, like that feeling just before the roller-coaster goes over the top. She swallowed her nerves and faked a smile. "I hope so."

Sebastian straightened his back, and lifted his chin, inhabiting his character once more. "My affections and wishes are unchanged. One word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

"My sentiments on this occasion are so...so very different from your previous declaration that I imagine you must think me quite fickle." As Elizabeth expressed her gratitude for his actions, Darcy turned to her, a gentle smile spreading over his face. Then, before she could draw another breath, he clasped her in his arms, whispered her name and brought his lips down to hers for one of the most seductive kisses Jessica had ever experienced. Counting the seconds in her head, she clung to his shoulders to keep herself upright.

When he finally released her the room exploded in appreciative applause. "Should we keep that change in then?"

"I don't see why not," Mr. Flint said. "The audience ought to like it, except perhaps the die-hard fans, and it's not like the scriptwriter is supervising the performances."

They all looked at Mandy, who was nodding uncertainly. "I'm not sure my boss would like it, but then she's not here to ask. We might get a few complaints, but it could really help with the publicity."

"Even complaints can be good for business," Mr. Flint reminded her.

Mandy smiled. "I can tell Sebastian doesn't have a problem with it. What does our Miss Bennet think? Do you have any objections, Jess?"

Jessica wanted to say yes. She could not imagine how she would get through the week knowing that, every afternoon around four thirty p.m., she would have to cope with a kiss that turned her legs to jelly. Seeing everyone else's enthusiasm for it she smiled weakly and shook her head.

It was going to be a long week.





~<>~@~<>~

Chapter five


Jessica checked her reflection in the large hallway mirror. After spending half an hour with the hairdresser she felt more like Elizabeth Bennet than ever. They'd pinned her hair up properly at the back, and created ringlets that fell on either side of her face. She shook her head, smiling as the curls danced.

Dew coated the grass as she left the house, but overhead the sky was blue, with only the occasional fluffy white cloud to break up the monotony. Bees buzzed lazily as they danced between the stalks of purple and lilac bell-shaped flowers.

It was a beautiful Saturday morning.

The cast assembled on the lawn outside wardrobe for publicity photographs. Jane wore pale blue, with blue ribbons crossing over the bodice. Georgiana's white gown, trimmed with thin bands of pale green velvet, only aided the impression of youthful innocence. A sombre black coat, breeches, white stockings and shiny black shoes transformed Trevor into a serious looking butler, while Mrs Reynolds appeared even more austere in plain grey with an old lace scarf around her neck and shoulders, and a frilly white cap covering her grey hair.

Mr. Gardiner seemed to be struggling with his waistcoat, pulling it down over his protruding belly. "I bet that damned woman made this short on purpose."

"Oh do stop moaning, Gerald." Mrs Gardiner looked neat in her caramel and cream striped walking dress with light shawl and high crowned bonnet. "Perhaps if you didn't go back for seconds at dinner your costume might be a little more comfortable."

"That's just the sort of sympathy I'd expect from you," he grumbled before wandering off.

Darcy and Bingley arrived a few minutes later, and Jess wasn't the only one admiring the view. Mr. Bingley's chocolate brown coat and pale breeches were half hidden by a light grey driving coat that brushed the ankles of his leather boots as he walked. Gareth carried a tall hat and brown leather gloves in one hand and a cane in the other. He'd swapped his glasses for contact lenses, while the hairdresser had brushed his sandy blonde hair forward onto his face, in the style of a proper Regency gent. Jessica thought the period clothes suited him very well, and now he'd removed those ugly metal rims he didn't look half bad.

Yet Mr. Bingley couldn't hold her interest when Darcy was right in front of her, in the dark blue morning coat she'd seen the previous day. He wasn't wearing a long overcoat, so she could better admire how snugly his breeches seemed to mould themselves around his thighs. Sliding her gaze upwards, she met his eyes. He smiled and she felt herself blush again.

Sebastian offered a gentlemanly bow. "Did Miss Bennet sleep well?"

Before she could answer, Caroline stepped between them, brushing imaginary fluff from the front of his coat. "You are very smart this morning." She looked him up and down, although to Jess it seemed more down than up. "I knew you'd look fantastic in those breeches."

Sebastian nodded his thanks as he offered a polite response, before adding. "Nice dress, by the way."

Caroline's dark apricot gown was rather more embellished than the others, with a low, wide neckline, and a short embroidered train. The sort of thing the ladies of Jane Austen's time would have worn in the evening, rather than on a damp lawn just after breakfast. She shared a simpering smile and a wobbly curtsy. "Why, thank you, kind sir."

The press photographer shouted to attract everyone's attention, as Mandy shuffled the cast into their correct positions. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy stood in the middle of the group, with Jane and Mr. Bingley on one side and Mr. and Mrs Gardiner on the other. Jess thought they probably looked like a wedding party, with herself and Sebastian playing the part of the bride and groom. Everyone else clustered around them, and Jess smiled for the camera until her cheeks ached.

"Now if we can have Mr. Darcy and Miss Bennet on their own?" The photographer adjusted their positions and returned behind the lens before bringing in Jane and Bingley for a small group shot. After a few more pictures, either in a group or pairs, he finally seemed satisfied and they were allowed to return to the house for their final dress rehearsal.

The previous evening Mandy had given them a tour of the ground floor, where they would be presenting their scenes. Every room was a generous size, although some were more cluttered with furniture than others. In the third scene they took advantage of two separate doors, so Sebastian could enter from the opposite side.

"Miss Bennet!" He froze in place, as though in shock.

Not to be outdone, Jess gasped, her eyes wide. "Mr. Darcy!"

"I—" Sebastian paused again, seemingly at a loss for words.

"We did not expect to see you, sir. We were told the family were away from home, or we should never have presumed to disturb your peace."

"I returned unexpectedly. H...have you been in Derbyshire long?"

Elizabeth looked away, uncomfortably embarrassed. "Two days, sir."

"And are your family well?"

"Yes, they are very well."

"Where are you staying?"

"At the Lambton Inn. Do you know it?"

"Yes, of course." After another moment of silence, Mr. Darcy made his excuses and slipped out of the room, leaving Elizabeth to continue the scene with her aunt and uncle.

Mrs Gardiner moved closer. "Was that the master of the house? So handsome, and so like his portrait! He has an admirable figure. It was very kind of him to notice you."

"Oh, Aunt," Elizabeth sobbed, "we must leave at once!"

Mr. Gardiner stepped forward. "But why? Was Mr. Darcy unhappy with our presence?"

"No, not at all, but..." Jess allowed the sentence to trail off as she crossed to the side of the room as, from this point, Elizabeth would be revealing her thoughts directly to the audience, like a Shakespearean soliloquy. "How strange my arrival here must be to him! Why did I agree to come? Or, why did he come home earlier than expected?" Jess paused for a beat, her gloved hands clasping and unclasping. "And his behaviour, so strikingly altered. That he should even wish to speak to me...and speak with such civility, to enquire after my family! Never in my life have I seen his manners so little dignified. What does it mean?"

Mr. Gardiner interrupted her performance. "Shouldn't Darcy be wearing fewer clothes in this scene?

"Oh, yes! A wet shirt," Mrs Gardiner agreed, smiling. "I'd like to see that."

Jess shook her head. "The BBC miniseries had him meeting Elizabeth in a wet shirt, but in the book, he's coming from the stables." It seemed to Jess that more than one Gardiner was disappointed by her news.

After meeting Mr. Darcy again in the dining room, they were appropriately astonished by his reappearance. After declining his offer of refreshment, and once he had asked permission to introduce his sister, it was time for them to break for lunch.

The group returned downstairs to the servant's hall, their costumes covered with strategically placed napkins to keep them clean. No one doubted the icy reception they'd receive in wardrobe if any of the clothing was returned covered in grease stains.

Even Darcy did not trust his luck to that extent.

Dress rehearsals continued after lunch; the cast moving through the house until they reached the card room, where Elizabeth and her aunt would pay a formal visit to Miss Darcy at Pemberley. The first lines were somewhat stilted, reflecting the young girl's lack of experience in Society. Of course, Miss Bingley had no trouble conversing with their guests, particularly once Mr. Darcy made his appearance.

Ruth Swale played her part so well, her impression of Caroline Bingley so exact, that Jessica found very little to like.

"Pray, Miss Eliza, are not the Militia removed from Meryton?" Miss Bingley's expression was both disingenuous and saccharine as she paused for a response.

Jessica straightened her back, and raised her chin, irritated on Elizabeth's behalf. "Yes, they are now gone to Brighton."

Caroline's feigned solicitousness was honey-sweet. "Oh dear! That must be a great loss to your family."

As Georgiana shuffled uncomfortably in her chair, Jessica allowed her gaze to drift to Darcy and, for a brief moment, their eyes met. He smiled, and she wondered what he was thinking. Once Elizabeth and Aunt Gardiner left the room, Jess lingered outside the door, listening to the remainder of the scene.

"How very ill Eliza Bennet looks this morning, Mr. Darcy," she declaimed with enthusiasm. "I never in my life saw anyone so much altered as she is since the winter. She is grown so brown and coarse!

"She is somewhat tanned, but that is no miraculous consequence, given they have been travelling in the summer," he replied.

Jess knew from the script's directions that Caroline would move herself centre stage at this point. "For my own part, I confess that I never could see any beauty in her. Her face is too thin, her complexion has no brilliancy, and her features are not at all handsome. Her nose wants character; there is nothing marked in its lines. Her teeth are tolerable, but not out of the common way; and as for her eyes, which I have sometimes heard called fine, I never could perceive anything extraordinary in them. They have a sharp, shrewish look, which I do not like at all; and in her air altogether, there is a self-sufficiency without fashion which is intolerable." There was a beat before she continued. "I remember, when we first knew her in Hertfordshire, and how amazed we all were to find that she was a reputed beauty. I particularly recollect your saying, one night after they had been dining at Netherfield, She a beauty! I should as soon call her mother a wit. But afterwards she seemed to improve on you, and I believe you thought her rather pretty at one time."

"Yes," replied Darcy, in a voice laced with impatience, "but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."

Darcy's words made Jess smile, but not as much as when Sebastian followed Caroline out into the hallway at the end of the scene. "Ah, and here she is," he said as he took her hand in his. "The most handsome woman of my acquaintance."

They quickly ran through the remaining scenes. Mrs Reynolds reappeared after her costume change for the scene entitled 'Lady Catherine's visit' and entered into the spirit of the part with gusto. The rest of the cast took the part of the audience behind the red rope and applauded their confrontation.

Darcy's second proposal went very much as it had the previous day. When he kissed her again, she found that she needed to grab his lapels in case her legs decided to abandon the fight to stay upright. She still wasn't sure that his response to her positive answer was quite what the fans would be expecting; and―more to the point―it left her own emotions in jumbled confusion.

When the kiss ended, Darcy held her in his arms for a few seconds longer than necessary, looking down into her eyes. Did he realise how much it affected her? She was an actor. She should be able to kiss another cast member whenever the script called for it without suffering such a strong reaction. Jessica promised herself to be more professional when it came to the real performance, and not allow her own feelings to ruin the moment. She had to remain detached.

As everyone left the last room, to return their costumes and change for dinner, she held back from the group, preferring to walk alone and give herself time to review her performance. As Jessica entered the hall she found Mr. Bingley waiting for her. Gareth was a nice guy. As tired as Jess was, she didn't have the heart to rebuff him. It would be like kicking a puppy.

"I thought your scene with Lady Catherine was particularly effective," he said. "I liked the way you paused in the middle, just for a second or two. You should make a point of keeping that in."

"Thank you. I think I should too. You and Jane work really well together. I enjoyed Bingley's proposal very much. We don't usually get to see that scene, as Jane Austen skipped over it in the book."

Gareth smiled. "Yes, it's a lot of fun. I've never proposed to anyone before, so the nervousness isn't entirely an act, but Laura is fantastic to work with. She's been a real help."

"It's lucky you two get on so well."

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again. "You know, it's a pity Charles Bingley was such a complete ass."

Jess paused at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. "What makes you say that?"

He looked down at the hall runner, hands thrust into his pockets. "It's obvious really. He fell in love with the wrong sister. I've often thought Bingley needed someone more confident as his wife. Someone who would help to steer the family through life, rather than follow him blindly. Jane was too meek for him."

Jessica was surprised he knew the book so well, although she couldn't bring herself to agree with his interpretation of it. "I honestly thought Jane and Bingley made the perfect couple, so I never imagined him with anyone else."

"Sometimes couples can be too perfect. He is too easily led, and Jane too complying. I've no doubt Jane and Bingley would get along fine but, like Mr. Bennet says, nothing would ever be decided between them. Each one would be forever deferring decisions to the other." He looked up then, to see Jessica's reaction.

"I haven't thought of it like that before," Jess said as she made her way down the stairs. "Don't you think Elizabeth would soon become bored with Bingley? I mean...well, I don't think she'd necessarily want a husband who was quite so persuadable. Mr. Bennet also tells Elizabeth that she needs to be able to respect her partner. Do you really think she could respect easy-going Mr. Bingley?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "If he loved her, and she loved him, he would grow to become the kind of husband she needed. The challenge might have been good for him."

Jessica smiled as she nudged his elbow. "Well, look on the bright side. If Jane Austen had thought that way, then you might have ended up proposing to me, rather than Laura. Scary thought, eh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and that would have been such hard work."

Jessica punched him playfully on the shoulder. "It could have been. You have no idea what a diva I can be when I'm in a bad mood."

He held the door open for her, allowing her to walk past him. "I don't think you could ever be a diva, but if you want to pretend I won't tell the others."

"Won't tell us what?" Jane asked as they joined the back of the queue waiting for wardrobe.

Bingley gave another half-hearted shrug before wandering off to talk to Gerald.

Jane cast a curious look at Jessica. "What was all that about?"

"We were only talking about the Bingley from the book." She could see that Jane was still unsure. "I swear I'm not after your Mr. Bingley."

"He's not my Mr. Bingley," Laura quoted, a half smile on her lips.

"No? Well, if he isn't yet then he soon will be if you continue to spend so much time together."



~<>~@~<>~



Chapter six



Mr. Gardiner pushed his chair back from the table, patting his stomach. "Whatever I might say about them saving money on the production, at least they don't scrimp on the food. I could get used to this life."

Mrs Gardiner glanced at the empty serving dishes piled up at their end of the table, her pointed nose wrinkling with disapproval. "You're like a pig at a trough. I've never known anyone who eats so much."

"I'm only taking advantage of the bounty they put in front of me. It would be a shame to waste it." He lifted a pack of playing cards out of his pocket and glanced around the table. "I've heard card games were really popular during Jane Austen's time, and even the posh ladies played. Can I tempt any of you to join me in a hand or two of whist? If Mandy objects we'll call it historical research."

"Some of us have better things to do," Caroline said as she excused herself and left the room. Mrs Gardiner shook her head, removing instead to a comfy chair in a quiet corner where she curled up for the evening with a well-worn book of sudoku puzzles.

Mrs Reynolds had brought her knitting but laid the bag to one side. "I'll have a go, although you'll have to remind me of the rules. I haven't played whist in years."

Mr. Flint helped to clear the table, while Georgiana expressed an interest, although she admitted she was a complete novice when it came to games.

"I'm a bit rusty myself," Mr. Gardiner admitted, "so we can all learn together."

Everyone else moved away from the table, settling into the comfy chairs in front of a small television. Sebastian flicked through the channels with an air of restlessness. "So this is what a Saturday evening looks like in the middle of nowhere. How did people cope, living so many miles from civilisation?"

"I think they used to entertain themselves." Jess nodded towards the table, where Mr. Gardiner had just taken the first trick. "They played games, read books, and strolled in the garden."

"I think it's beautiful here," Jane said. "I'd love to live in a place like this. The closest I get to the countryside is walking my dogs on the heath, and I have to catch the tube to get there."

Gareth yawned, stretching his legs in front of him. "I grew up in the countryside. You get used to the quiet and soon learn how to entertain yourself."

Sebastian turned to Jane. "Don't get me wrong. Derbyshire seems like a nice place. I'm just used to walking down the street and seeing friends, or popping round to my local pub, or having a meal at the Chinese restaurant on the corner. Exley Hall is miles from their nearest neighbour. It feels so isolated, as though we're living on an island. I'm not sure I would have wanted to live here full time."

"That might be why Mrs Reynolds has the line about Darcy not visiting Pemberley very often," Jess said. "He must have preferred life in town too."

"See? I'm more like Darcy than anyone realised." A muffled jingle came from the vicinity of his pocket. Apologising for the interruption he pulled out his phone, glancing at the message on the screen. "It's from a friend. He's been having a rough time lately. I think I ought to ring him back. Do you mind? I won't be long."

"Of course not. Go ahead." As Sebastian left the room Jess felt flattered that he'd even asked her. They were co-workers, sitting together, watching television. It's not like they were on a date.

A few minutes later Sebastian's head came around the door, and he signalled for Jess to join him. As she slipped into the empty hall, he said, "My friend is a huge fan of Jane Austen. I mentioned I was working with a fantastic Elizabeth Bennet and he wanted to know what you looked like. No description of mine can do justice to the reality. Would it be alright if we take a photo together, so I can show him?"

Jess looked down at her jeans and t-shirt. She didn't feel much like Elizabeth in these clothes. "Wouldn't it be better to wait until tomorrow, when we're in costume?"

"I'm sure he'd love that, but I think he could do with cheering up tonight. Is that okay?"

Who could object to a photo with Mr. Darcy, in or out of costume? "No problem. I'm happy to help."

Sebastian moved to her side, wrapping one arm around her waist as he held his phone with his other hand. Jess felt a tingle in her chest as he pulled her closer, and bent his knees slightly to counteract the difference in their height.

"Ready?"

"Go for it," Jess mumbled between lips frozen into a smile.

A flash lit up the dim hallway, momentarily blinding Jess. She blinked to clear the afterimage dancing on her eyeballs.

Darcy checked his screen. "We both look like ghosts. The flash on this phone is rubbish. Can we try again somewhere else? There's still some daylight outside."

Jess nodded her agreement and they left the basement by the outside stairs that led directly to the gardens. She took in a deep breath, enjoying the unpolluted country air. No matter what anyone thought about the inconveniences of being in the countryside, at least there was no smog or exhaust fumes; just the summer scents of lilac and honeysuckle. "When we're stuck in that dingy basement it's easy to forget that it stays light for longer at this time of year. We're only a couple of weeks from the longest day."

"The scenery is certainly beautiful," he agreed, as doves cooed in the branches above their heads. "Where did you want to stand?"

"Anywhere you like."

Sebastian's hands returned to her waist as he shuffled her around until they were facing the setting sun. "There. You're now in the spotlight, just as you should be. Are you ready? Say cheese."

Jess smiled into the camera. After a few seconds of silence, she looked up at Sebastian, meeting his eyes. Brown eyes that really were quite beautiful when you studied them closely. "Did you take it?"

"What? Oh, the photo?" He grinned. "Let's try it again."

This time Jess heard the click as he captured the moment. "Can I see?"

He held the phone in front of them. Jess wanted to be certain she didn't look like an idiot, and was surprised by how good the picture was of her. Sebastian had judged the lighting just right. The warm glow of the evening sun lit her face in a really flattering way. Then her eyes slid across the screen to check out her companion. It was a great photo of Darcy, or at least it would have been if he'd been looking at the camera. The photo had caught him staring at Jess; his expression softened by the hint of a smile.

"I'm not sure I ought to send that picture to my friend after all. It might not cheer him up as much as I thought. He'll be jealous as hell."

"It's a lovely photo."

"Did you want a copy? It's no problem. Here...send it to yourself." He grinned as he offered his phone.

Her hands shook slightly as she cradled the handset. "If you wanted my number you only had to ask." She added her details to his contacts then passed the phone back.

"You never know when it might come in handy." Sebastian pressed a few buttons. "There. The photo's on its way." As he slipped his phone into his back pocket he scanned the horizon, taking in a breath and letting it out as a long, slow sigh. "It's not that bad here, when you escape from that airless basement. I think I could get used to it. Maybe we should go for a walk before we head inside."

The idea of a long walk through a romantic summer garden with Darcy would have appealed to Jess at any time. The chance to get to know Sebastian better was just a bonus. "That would b—"

"Jess?" A voice came from behind them. Gareth stood at the top of the steps. "Laura sent me to fetch you. That period drama you wanted to watch will be starting in a few minutes."

Her interest in the sumptuous period romance had waned as soon as Sebastian suggested a better way to spend their evening, but she lost her chance to speak when her companion said, "Of course! I'd forgotten all about your film. We'd better go back inside before it starts."

Jessica's protests fell on ears that, if not deaf, were at least too gentlemanly to allow her to miss something she'd previously shown an interest in.


~~~~~


By Sunday morning, everyone was preparing in their own particular way for the day ahead. Some sat down to a hearty breakfast while others were too afflicted by first day nerves to even glance at the food on offer. Georgiana was convinced that the smell of the eggs and bacon Mr. Flint was wolfing down was making her queasy, while Mrs Gardiner couldn't bear to look at Mr. Gardiner's thick slabs of fried bread, or the fat congealing on his plate.

Jessica was more excited than nervous and joined Bingley and Jane who were having a small bowl of cereal and some fruit.

Most of the cast had their dog-eared scripts close to hand―lying on the table, sticking out of back pockets or bags, or rolled up like a fly swat―as they took the last opportunity to go over their lines; either in the privacy of their own heads, or in hushed whispers under their breath.

Mrs Reynolds, sitting in the corner of the room, was watching the others with a rare smile in her grey eyes. Offering her a cup of tea, Jessica asked if she was ready.

"Of course. You don't spend fifty years in this business without learning how to memorise your lines." She eased herself out of her chair, happy to be able to show off her abilities. Changing the tone of her voice slightly, taking on the humble accent suited to a housekeeper, she quoted a random line. "This room was recently redecorated on the orders of Mr. Darcy, after his sister took a particular liking to the room."

Jessica sat up, recognising her cue. "He is certainly a good brother."

"I expect that Miss Darcy will be delighted by the scheme, but that is always the way with him. Whatever can give his sister any pleasure is sure to be done in a moment. There is nothing he would not do for her."

Jess glanced back towards the table, where Darcy was distracting Georgiana from her nerves by cracking jokes with Mr. Gardiner. They were making a point of reassuring the young girl that all would be well. Yes, he was playing the part of a good brother, and she didn't think it was completely an act either.

After breakfast, it was time to don their costumes. Once dressed and ready, the troupe returned to the blue drawing room where Mandy gave them some last minute instructions before their first performance.

"As long as everyone sticks to the timetable it should work out just like our rehearsals yesterday. You all know when your lunch breaks are, and you must keep to the schedule. Tomorrow and Tuesday, during the Austen Convention, we'll be doing things slightly differently as our performances have to fit around the various talks and events. The organisers have asked if you can be available for photo opportunities between scenes, and if you can stay in character while you're interacting with the guests that would be even better."

"Hang on a minute! No one said anything about improvisations!"

Mandy smiled at Mr. Gardiner. "You don't have to if you'd rather not. I just thought it would be nice for people to feel like they're meeting the characters as they explore the house or gardens."

Mrs Gardiner raised her hand. "What if they ask us questions we don't know the answer to? I'm no historical expert."

"Just do your best." Their production assistant checked her watch. "I expect everyone to be ready and waiting for when the gates open at 10am, but before that I have a surprise for you all. Someone who would like to say hello."

On cue, the door opened and an unfamiliar woman entered the room. The neat, trim figure smiled at the assembled cast, as Mandy made the introductions. "Everyone, this is our generous hostess, Mrs Rivers-Smithe."

Her blonde hair, subtly coloured to camouflage the tell-tale wisps of silver, hung perfectly straight, with no strand out of place, while high cheekbones and tanned, unlined skin gave the impression of someone who could have been a catwalk model thirty years earlier. Yet Mrs Rivers-Smithe hadn't entirely been able to hold back time, as her hands bore wrinkles at odds with the rest of her appearance. With a double string of pearls lying against a pink cashmere twin set, Jessica guessed that Mrs Rivers-Smithe would not have felt out of place in the Royal Enclosure at Ascot.

"Oh, how lovely to see you together like this! You all look delightful in your costumes." Her precise, plummy accent spoke of boarding schools and debutantes as she moved around them, complimenting their clothes and accessories. She proved herself a fan of the book by unerringly identifying their characters and shared a few words with each of them, until only Elizabeth and Darcy remained.

Arriving in front of Jessica, she gave a wry smile. "Oh my, Miss Bennet! Well, you do look the part. I'm so glad. It would have been frightful to see Darcy making sheep's eyes at a plain Elizabeth, for although Jane is meant to be the beauty I never thought that Darcy would be so smitten as to fall for a dowdy girl! Yes, I think you will do very well indeed."

"Thank you for letting us perform in your beautiful home," Jess replied, resisting the urge to curtsy.

"You are very welcome, my dear. And here is Mr. Darcy, in all his glory. How delightful! I was concerned that the casting director could easily make a mess of casting Darcy, but I could not be proved more wrong. You are perfect! Isn't he just perfect?" she asked of Jessica, who nodded her agreement.

"The ladies who are organising the convention will be here later, and I must introduce you to them. I am sure they will be highly delighted with you." The glamorous owner of Exley Hall ran a pink painted fingernail down the lapel of Darcy's blue coat. "I would love the opportunity to discuss your thoughts on Mr. Darcy's character. Playing the part must give you a real idea of the man hiding beneath that starched shirt of propriety. It would be wonderful to explore the different facets of his character with you. I think I could learn a lot from your... unique viewpoint."

"Well, we really ought to get to our starting places," Mandy said, her voice overly bright. "The gates will be opening in a few minutes."

As Jessica accompanied her into the hallway she kept an ear on the conversation that continued behind them as Mrs Rivers-Smithe hung off Sebastian's arm.

The older woman's voice had dropped, sounding sultry and unctuous, like a bad impersonation of Marlene Dietrich. "Perhaps you could join me for dinner one evening. My husband will be away for a few days, so a little company would be very welcome. My apartment is only in the east wing, and we would be able to continue our discussion without interruption."

Jessica bit her lip. Surely Mrs Rivers-Smithe hadn't meant her invitation to sound as suggestive as it had. Remarks overheard in isolation, without looking at the speaker, could easily be taken out of context. Perhaps she'd imagined the kittenish purr that coloured the tone of the older woman's words.

Or maybe she flirted with every handsome young man she met?

Sebastian gave a brief, non-committal answer before they headed towards their starting positions. When Jess looked across at Darcy, all her questions were answered. He'd heard the not so subtle offer too.

There was no mistaking the miserable, hunted look in his

Chapter 7


Their first three scenes in front of the public worked out better than Jess expected. The beautiful rooms of Exley Hall provided the perfect backdrop, giving their small, transitory audience the sense that they were seeing conversations from the past unfold before them.

While everything ran smoothly on stage, behind the doors, where the remaining cast waited in silence, the atmosphere was strung as taut as a violin string. In the short break between scenes, Sebastian's mood had changed. No longer was he the charming gentleman who entertained them with jokes during rehearsal. Now, he sat alone, quiet and brooding as he stared at the floor. Not knowing him well she couldn't tell if it was part of his process of becoming Darcy, or whether something else was bothering him.

Being most in demand, as Elizabeth, Jessica didn't get the opportunity to ask until later. The green room was half empty, as most of their group had already finished eating. Mr. Gardiner and Trevor sat in the chairs, viewing the lunchtime news. Mrs Gardiner's attention was fixed on her puzzle book by the window. Everyone else had disappeared, leaving Darcy and Jess alone at the table. After watching him push a lone pea around his plate for almost a minute, she said, "Is everything alright?"

He sat back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hand. "Sorry. I'm probably not the best company right now."

"If you need someone to cheer you up, I suspect Mrs Rivers-Smithe would be willing to help."

Silverware clattered as he pushed his plate away. "Why does everybody think—?" He bit off the rest of the sentence, his lips compressed in a hard line. After a moment, he sucked in a breath, releasing it slowly. "I'm sorry. Women like that...they believe they only have to snap their fingers, and we'll run to them like lemmings off a cliff. It's hardly a flattering assumption."

"Do older women make those sort of offers often?"

"It happens, and it's not always the cougars, either. People seem to have this idea that every man has only one thing on their mind. To them, I'm no better than a sex-starved gigolo, and they're desperate for anyone who will fill the gaping chasm in their lonely existence. What I want, or don't want, doesn't seem to matter."

"It must be awkward, particularly when you're working. I have a similar problem when I'm doing a few extra hours at the pub. The drunks are lining up to walk me home."

"And how do you say no without offending your regular customers?"

"I don't worry about that. I have to repeat myself five or six times, and talk really slow, but they usually get the message. They're harmless, really. But surely you don't have a problem making your feelings clear."

Sebastian raked his fingers through his hair, his voice pitched for her ears alone. "I realise I might give people the impression that I'm oh-so-confident, and I do try to be, but when something like that happens, I never know what to say, or how to say no without upsetting the woman, or causing a scene."

His revelation surprised her, but she tried not to show it. "I think it says a lot about you as a person that you worry about someone else's feelings, especially when they don't consider yours."

"Experience has taught me that the best reaction is to say nothing, as a refusal often offends, and I would hate to offend the sort of person who owns a house like this." His attention returned to his plate, lost in thought as he studied the remnants of pie crust. After a moment's reflection, he looked up, meeting her eyes. "It's frustrating that I couldn't just be honest, and say what I really thought. I also have to think about our little project. Mandy doesn't deserve the hassle, so I didn't dare annoy our hostess."

Jessica wondered if he was speaking from previous experience, but Caroline chose that moment to return from wherever she'd been hiding. As she took the chair next to Darcy the bubble surrounding them burst and there was no further opportunity for private conversation. At least Sebastian seemed to be almost back to his assured self, and Jess was the only one who noticed the quiet moments when his gaze would drop to the patterned hall runner. In front of the audience, he was as confident as ever. The afternoon flew by, and she didn't have another chance to talk to him alone until the last guest was ushered from the park and the gates finally closed.

As they were queueing to change out of their costumes, she suggested they should all go out for an evening's stroll following dinner. Darcy agreed straight away, and so did Georgiana, until Mr. Gardiner reminded the young woman that she'd already committed to another evening of whist. The game was growing serious, and they were now using buttons to raise the stakes, having borrowed a stash from Mrs Reynold's knitting bag.

Georgiana's shoulders fell, and Jess patted her hand. "You can walk with us tomorrow, if you like. I'm sure we won't manage to cover the whole garden in one evening. The park is really big."

Darcy seemed back to normal during dinner, and she was pleased that their conversation after lunch might have played a part. After helping to clear the table, Jess headed for the garden stairs; amazed anew at the beauty waiting for them outside their stuffy basement lair.

The summer evening was warm and pleasant as they wandered between the chestnut trees and across the rising expanse of grass, heading towards a copse that rose up behind the hall. Their walk was, for the most part, silent. She sensed he was struggling with something, and hoped that he would open up to her again.

As they reached the tree line, Darcy sat in the rough grass, stretching his long, denim-clad legs out in front of him. Jessica dropped down by his side and they gazed across the valley and the leaded roof of Exley Hall below. Just at the point when Jess felt that a little conversation was required, Darcy cleared his throat. "I haven't been entirely honest with you."

"What do you mean?" A breeze ruffled the long grasses, there and gone in a moment. In the branches above their heads, a bird began to sing. It distracted Sebastian from his confession, as he looked up to discover the source of the noise.

He turned back to Jess, giving her his full attention. "The truth is, ever since I arrived at Exley Hall I've been playing a part. My part. I've been playing myself."

"I get that. Don't we all give a performance of ourselves when we meet new people for the first time?"

"I'm not sure if anyone else does, but I have to. It's the only way I can be comfortable. Normally, I don't think twice about it, but since meeting you it felt...deceitful. You're one of the few people I've met where I've really wanted to be me."

Jess smiled as she leaned on one arm, her body angled towards him. "Now you are making me curious. What's the real you like?"

He looked out into the distance. "Well, to start with, he's not as confident as that other me. The real me would never have dared to suggest that kiss at the end of the proposal scene. The other me is a bit of a show-off. He likes to be in control. Life is so much easier if I pretend to be him, instead of being myself. He's the good looking one; the man everyone likes."

"You can't act yourself handsome, you know. You really have to be born with it." And he had been. The strong jaw, high cheekbones, and sultry brown eyes were a genetic gift he could not deny.

"I disagree. There's definitely an element of acting needed for me to pretend I believe in myself. In my head I'm still the gangly, spotty youth, with legs like pipe cleaners; the one who hit puberty before everyone else, and towered over my classmates in photos. You can't begin to imagine how embarrassing it is to answer the school register with a voice like a twenty-five year old."

"And is that why you're so uncomfortable telling Mrs Rivers-Smithe where to stick her very intimate dinner for two? Do you still feel more like that boy than the man you've become?"

"Probably...yes."

How could he not know how great he looked? Even in stonewashed jeans and a vintage Queen t-shirt, with the breeze ruffling those dark chocolate curls of his, he might have been participating in an arty shoot for the front cover of Empire, or a spread in the Times Sunday supplement. "You shouldn't do yourself down, you know. I think—" Before she could tell him exactly what she thought, her phone rang. It was Bea. "Do you mind? It's my housemate. I hope she's not ringing to say she set the place on fire."

He laughed. "Go on. I don't mind."

Jess scrambled to her feet, putting a little distance between herself and Sebastian. "What's up?"

Beatrice's voice took on a defensive tone. "Does anything have to be wrong? Can't I just ring to say hello?"

"You can, but you don't usually ring me while I'm working away. The house is okay, right?"

"Of course! Everything's fine. I was just curious to find out what happened with your Mr. Darcy? I mean, did he make the scale?"

Jess shuffled around so she was facing away from Sebastian. She didn't want him to see her blushing, as she knew she must be. "Yes, the job is great. The house is amazing and we're all having a lot of fun."

"He's there with you. He can hear your conversation, can't he?"

"Yes, that's true," Jess said, trying to make her answers sound as innocent as possible for anyone who might be lying back in the grass behind her, listening.

"So, tell me, is he hot? I'm sure he is."

"I agree. This time of year is far too warm to put the heating on."

Bea squealed down the phone. "That's a yes then. And single?"

Jess looked over her shoulder towards Darcy. She gave him a wave, acknowledging that she hadn't forgotten him. "I don't know."

"What does he look like? Can't you take a picture when he's not looking? You wouldn't make me wait all week, would you?"

Feeling ridiculously proud of her improvisation skills, Jess said, "Oh yes, I remember. I have a copy of that on my phone. Let me send it over. Hang on." She scrolled through the menu until she found the picture of the two of them. After attaching it to a message she pressed send. "There you go. That should be enough proof we paid the bill ."

There was a brief silence on the other end, followed by a low whistle. "Oh boy. You fell on your feet, didn't you? Now that's what I call a Darcy!"

"Is that everything you need?"

"Hmm, he looks quite tall. How tall is he?"

Jess closed her eyes, wishing that she'd ended the call sooner. "I'm not sure how big it is. Maybe a hundred and eighty centimetres? You'll have to measure it."

"Ask him!" Bea begged.

She covered the front of the phone with her hand, as she walked back to where Sebastian was still propped on his elbows in the grass, enjoying the evening sun. "How tall are you?"

He smiled. "Who wants to know?"

The cogs in her brain worked overtime as she came up with another excuse. "We need a new cloth for the table, but I can't remember how long it is. If you can just lie down flat for a second, I'll be able to visualise whether it's longer or shorter than you."

"Fair enough." He lay back in the grass, straightening his legs, his hands clasped behind his head. "Does that help?"

"Yeah, that's about the same size as the table. So how tall are you?"

He smiled, probably feeling a little ridiculous at being compared to a table. "I'm six foot three. That's about one metre ninety."

She uncovered the phone. "Did you hear that? My friend here is one metre ninety, and he's about the same length as the table."

"Yes, I heard," Bea said, chuckling. "He sounds as good as he looks. You will keep me updated, won't you?"

"Yes, that's no problem. I'll speak to you soon, okay? Bye!" Jess disconnected the call before Bea could ask her anything else. She dropped onto the grass, disturbing a butterfly that had been resting on a leaf. "Sorry. She's a lovely girl, but not entirely practical about household things. Where were we?"

"I don't know, but it couldn't have been too important." He looked out over the valley. "It's nice to be able to just sit here, and not feel compelled to talk. It's very relaxing." Lying back again, he stared at the white clouds scudding overhead. "Being here with you is comfortable, especially now I can be myself." He glanced towards Jessica. "I hope I haven't made things awkward by telling you the truth and revealing my secret."

"No, no. Not at all." She smiled as she settled herself more comfortably beside him. How like him to be concerned about her feelings.

"It's a long while since I haven't had to worry about playing up to people's perceptions of me. Do you know what I mean?"

Jessica wasn't entirely sure she did know, but she was willing to sit and listen.

He waved a hand depreciatingly in front of his own face. "This 'handsome countenance' is more of a curse than a blessing." His wearied sigh seemed to mirror his mood. "I'd probably be taken more seriously as an actor if I looked less like a brainless male model. People—women in particular—imagine me to be a sex-starved pretty boy, which is hardly conducive to earning the serious roles I'd really like to play. It's all about first impressions, isn't it?"

"I think, if you took a risk and showed them the Sebastian you've shown me, rather than the one you pretend to be, then they'll realise there's more to you than your stunning good looks, and striking similarity to Mr. Darcy."

He lifted himself onto his elbow, his eyes innocently wide. "You think I'm good looking?"

Jess raised her brows. "You're not really that dim, are you?"

"Nah, I'm just messing with you, but it's nice to be able to do that. I don't think I would be able to sit with anyone else like this and feel so easy. Another woman, sitting in your place, would usually expect certain behaviour from me. They might assume that I wanted to kiss them, or go further than that. Sometimes I wonder if it would be easier to give them what they want, rather than say no and risk making things...difficult." Lying back in the soft grass again he closed his eyes. "You don't know how good it feels to be able to relax and be myself for once."

Recalling her first thoughts when Darcy entered the green room on Thursday evening caused Jessica a moment's guilt. She'd mentally labelled him drop dead gorgeous, and he still was, but she knew him better now. Under that pretty wrapping paper was a thoughtful brain and now, it seemed, a sensitive side too.

If anything, it only made him more appealing.



~<>~@~<>~



Chapter 8



The insistent buzz of her alarm clock startled Jess awake on Monday morning. Her eyelids felt leaden as she swung a clumsy arm out from under the duvet to fumble for the button. Why did she feel so tired? Perhaps the country air and unaccustomed exercise could knock a city girl like her for six.

But no, she remembered now. She'd spent hours, tossing and squirming, as she tried to fall asleep. Her brain felt as though she'd had a late night shot of caffeine. It wouldn't switch off. Images and snatches of conversation played in her head, over and over, as she'd sifted through each memory of her evening with Sebastian. How he spoke, how he laughed, and his admission about lacking confidence. The way he stared into her eyes as he spoke to her. His smile.

She couldn't describe their evening walk as romantic. Just two co-workers, surrounded by nature, chatting about nothing in particular, while looking out over some beautiful English countryside. He'd never hinted that he considered her more than a friend. Even so, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about Sebastian Fox.

Jess picked up her things and slouched into the corridor. She passed Jane's room, heading for the second bathroom; the one furthest away from the staircase that tended to be least used. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to wait too long. Turning the corner she spotted a lone figure waiting in the semi-darkness.

Bingley leaned against the wall, an eerie blue glow illuminating his face like Banquo's ghost. Hearing her footsteps on the wooden floorboards he looked up, smiling as he dropped the phone in his pocket. "Morning, Jess. How you doing?"

"I'm good. You?"

He nodded towards the bathroom door. "Just waiting for Laura. Did you enjoy your walk last night?"

Jess couldn't hold back a grin. Now her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, Bingley's hair stuck out at all angles, while the golden stubble on his chin made him look like a teddy bear. "Yeah, it was great. I haven't spent a lot of time in the countryside, so being able to look out across the valley was a real eye-opener for me. It's all so very beautiful."

His sigh sounded loud in the silent semi-darkness. "I know."

The bolt drew back with a loud thunk, making them both jump, and the bathroom door opened, flooding light into the corridor. Laura, wearing a floral t-shirt and shorts, was fresh-faced, wide awake and ready to face the day. "Hi, Jess. Sleep well?"

"Yeah, great thanks." She wasn't about to admit to her sleepless night. Particularly not when Sebastian was the cause.

Their ever-cheerful Jane Bennet smiled as she nodded to Bingley. "I'll see you both at breakfast then."

As Laura left, Jess settled her shoulders against the wall, hoping she wouldn't have to wait too long. But then Gareth held the door open, offering Jess a Bingley-like bow. "Ladies first."

"I couldn't. You were here before me. I don't mind waiting my turn."

"You're playing the main character, Jess, and you're in almost every scene, so you need to be ready on time. My first scene isn't until just before lunch, so it doesn't matter if I'm a few minutes late for breakfast."

Although his argument made sense, it didn't change the fact that she was grateful. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

Once in the bathroom, Jess stood in front of the basin as she studied her reflection in the mirror. She ran her fingers through her hair, flattening down the worst bits. Bingley's bed-head might have amused her, but hers was no better. She would have to tame the tangles before she showed herself in front of the others.

Particularly Darcy.


~~~~~


By the time Jessica arrived downstairs for breakfast, the room was already busy as the others fortified themselves for another day of performances.

Mrs Reynolds and Georgiana sat together in the corner, the two having formed an unlikely friendship when the young woman expressed an interest in learning to knit. Since her first hesitant enquiry, Mrs Reynolds had lent her a pair of needles and some pink fluffy wool, and now her meticulous stitches were earning her mentor's approbation, row by row.

While Trevor laughed at something on the television, Mr. Gardiner sat in moody silence, hunched over his eggs and bacon, and occasionally throwing dark looks towards Mrs Gardiner. Jess carried her cereal to the other end of the table and took her usual seat next to Jane. She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "What's up with those two?"

"Gerald wanted to play a few hands of whist with his breakfast, but Alison put her foot down. She says he's obsessed with the game and thinks gambling isn't an appropriate activity for the breakfast table. On top of that, she also threatened to complain to Mandy if he even took the cards out of his pocket. Where's Gareth?"

"I think he'll be down soon. He let me use the bathroom first, which was kind of him."

Jane smiled as she pushed her empty bowl away. "Gareth would. He's nice like that. Actually I—"

"Good morning, ladies." Darcy's voice, coming from behind her, made Jess jump.

She turned in her chair, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Aren't you a little late?"

He slid into the seat next to hers. "For your information, Miss Bennet, I had an early breakfast this morning. Then, when you weren't here to keep me company, I went for a quick nosey around on the main floor to see what preparations they were making for the convention."

They'd already seen the specialist company erecting two white marquee tents on the lawn on Saturday afternoon, while their group were running through the dress rehearsals. Inside the largest marquee, a raised stage stood at one end, faced by rows and rows of chairs, laid out with military precision. The smaller one would provide catering facilities for the visitors.

"As well as the big top, I found out they're also using the ballroom for talks, so the attendees can enjoy their fascinating lectures or presentations in two different places at the same time. I don't know when they'll have time to watch us." He turned towards the door, where Mandy was struggling with the stand for her flip-chart. "Looks like we're going to find out now."

Mr. Bingley, entering the room behind Mandy, swept the easel out of her arms, and unfolded it ready for her to hang the pages.

"Thank you, Gareth, and good morning, everyone. While you're all together I'd like to run through the events of today and tomorrow." The general buzz of conversation faded as the cast gave her at least some of their attention. "Schedule constraints mean we won't have time to do every scene today. We thought the organisers would know which scenes their guests would most wish to see, so here's the running order for today and tomorrow."

Jessica ran down the list, to see what had been cut. From the first half they'd cut the opening scene at the Lambton Inn, and Darcy's arrival at Pemberley, while in the afternoon Bingley's proposal was also missing. The last one made sense to Jess, as it wasn't shown in the book, and they were Jane Austen fans after all.

Mandy turned the page, revealing the timetable of the various presentations. She explained how they would show their scenes at the beginning and end of each talk, while the attendees were a captive audience. They'd staggered the timings, allowing their group to move from the marquee to the ballroom and back, so every conference guest should see at least half of the performances.

"Note the altered lunchtimes. That allows half of you to spend time mingling with the visitors, for photo opportunities. If you can stay in character, even better. They'll love that."

A grumbling noise from the other end of the table suggested that Mr. Gardiner wasn't overly enthused about the idea of being a prop in someone else's snap, but Mandy chose to ignore it. "That's great. If everyone can make their way to wardrobe, we'll start at 9.30, so let's meet in our usual spot at nine."

With hair and make-up done, Jess smoothed the front of her long-sleeved dress and hoped the weather would stay warm. Even a slight cooling breeze would run straight through the thin muslin, particularly out in the marquee. She walked through the corridor, heading for the stairs that led up to the main floor of the house. At the top, she found Darcy waiting for her.

"Have you seen what they've done to the ballroom?" He curled a beckoning finger. "Come and look."

"Shouldn't we be meeting Mandy?"

"We have fifteen minutes yet. Plenty of time for a quick peek."

Herringbone parquet ran the length of the long, narrow hallway, until they arrived at a carpeted section outside the open doors of the ballroom. Inside, more chairs faced a projector and screen. Ever curious, she poked her head in and looked around, but there was nothing much to see. Apart from the chairs, a shallow stage-like platform with a lectern, a screen and one table for the projector, the room was empty. "So all the visitors here today will be Jane Austen fans?"

Darcy nodded. "And you know what that means, don't you?"

"Not a clue. Do they all wear dresses and bonnets?"

"No idea about the bonnets, but..." He put a brotherly arm around her shoulder and steered her back down the hallway as he lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "Sometime today, we will end up surrounded by a large gaggle of women of a certain age, who would like nothing better than to scratch your eyes out and dump me in the lake."

"Why the lake?"

"To see Darcy in a wet shirt, of course! Or maybe to see Darcy taking his wet shirt off. I wouldn't put anything past those fans." He spoke with such feeling that Jessica had to laugh.

"It's no laughing manner, Miss Bennet!" he said in his most serious, Darcy-like tone. "I'm beginning to suspect you do not care for my welfare at all. I thought we were friends. Do you not feel the smallest bit sorry for the pain I will have to endure over the next two days?"

Jessica turned to give him an answer, but the words died in her throat as she found him staring at her with such intensity that her heart fluttered against her ribs like a trapped bird. Knowing how easily she blushed, Jess turned away. The last thing she wanted was for him to think her no better than any other woman he met.

"Playing the role of Darcy for the general public is one thing, but I've heard the serious fans are a different breed altogether. I wasn't joking about the lake. I'll bet you ten pounds that, by the end of today, at least five of them will have asked me to get soaking wet for their edification. Then there'll be the innumerable photographs and the fondling―"

"The what?"

He stopped walking and shook his head, laughing. "I think that's one of the things I most like about you. You seem blissfully unaware of the more sordid side to our profession, which just proves you're not like the rest of them. You have to picture the scene." He held his large hands spread out in front of him, like a photographer framing a shot. "Imagine for a moment that you are me, and I am a rabid fan. Can you do that?"

"It's a stretch, but I think I can manage."

"Okay. Stand there and be me." As she stood on tip-toe, trying to make herself as tall as possible, he hunched his shoulders to appear smaller and plastered an adoring grin to his face. "Oh, Mr. Darcy," he cried in a rasping cackle, more suited to one of Shakespeare's witches. "Can we have a picture please?" He moved close to Jessica, moulding his body to her side, while one hand wrapped tightly around her waist. The other arm he held out straight, as though he was holding a phone. "Cheese!" he croaked, getting into the spirit of the character as his hand slipped down to stroke her bottom.

She jumped away from him, as though she had been burned. "You must be joking! They wouldn't do that to you."

He held out his hands, the picture of an innocent man. "Don't be so sure. I wish I was wrong, but I'm not. It must be those tight breeches that get them going." Then his smile faltered. "I doubt that's the worst thing I'll have to worry about either."

Jessica spluttered. "I can't imagine anything worse than that!"

Darcy's bleak expression put her in mind of a fox surrounded by baying dogs. "Remember those situations? The propositions?" She nodded. "Well, it wouldn't surprise me if it's ten times worse today and tomorrow. If I don't get to the end of the convention with a handful of telephone numbers pressed into my hand on bits of torn envelope or program, then you can call me a liar. "

Jessica hoped to see a teasing smile on his face, but he was deadly serious. "I'm sorry. That must be awful for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Are you strong enough to stand against a combined mass of overenthusiastic superfans? Can you withstand the daggers that will surely be thrown every time someone looks at you? If you think you're tough enough then I could use your body." He grinned, before grabbing her hand and holding it to his chest. "Be my shield. Help me fight them off. With you by my side, some of them might think twice before trying anything."

There was the other Sebastian coming to the fore. The part he played to make himself appear confident and in control. She didn't have to consider her answer for very long. "Of course I will, but you might have to save me too. If they're as bad as you say they are, there's a strong chance I might be hit over the head with a parasol and dumped in the lake myself."

He squeezed the hand he still held in his own. "Don't worry. I'll keep you safe."

The promise, so earnestly given, was reassuring. Whatever happened, she knew he would look after her.<

Chapter 9



Her first sight of the serious Austen fans came when they took their places on stage for the opening scene. She spotted a handful of bobbing bonnets, and a few of the ladies wore their hair up, with prominent ringlets and braids. However, most of the attendees looked quite ordinary, like anyone you might meet at the shops. Every chair was taken, and a few officials stood at the back, but the audience watched their first performance in respectful silence and rewarded them with generous applause at the end.

Although she assumed things wouldn't be as bad as Darcy predicted, she soon realised her mistake. The house and grounds fell silent while the various talks and lectures were in progress, but during the brief morning break and at lunchtime the garden filled with visitors wandering around in the sunshine and, like homing pigeons returning to their loft, it didn't take them long to find Mr. Darcy.

At first, the women, sometimes accompanied by a lone male, were polite, with just one or two asking for photographs with their favourite Austen hero. Sebastian would smile as they clung on his arm, and answered their questions with a Darcy-like patience. It was amazing, really, how the presence of a character from a book could cause so many sensible looking women to melt into a puddle on the lawn.

In a way, Jess felt a little relieved that her curious fascination with Mr. Darcy was not some strange manifestation of a previously unknown personality disorder. Or if it was, at least she wasn't the only woman suffering from it.

It wasn't long before a larger group descended on them; twenty females of various ages, many dressed in Regency finery, and all jostling to get within touching distance of a real-life Mr. Darcy. Within a minute Jess found herself on the periphery of the group, while a circle of women, two or three deep in places, surrounded Sebastian as he was fawned over and giggled at.

During his ordeal, Darcy strove to remain the perfect gentleman, even when Jessica could see it was costing him some effort to keep the scowl from his face, or impatience from his voice. After suffering alone for a couple of minutes, he looked directly towards her and raised his eyebrows. His message was clear: when would she provide the promised rescue?

Taking a deep breath, Jess projected her voice into the crowd. "Excuse me please, Ladies." With judicious use of elbow and hip, she pushed through the small gap that opened in front of her. As soon as she reached Darcy's side, he grabbed her hand, locking her arm within his as though he was in mortal danger, and Jess his only chance for survival. She tried to ignore the warm glow of satisfaction at being chosen to be his life-preserver in front of all those other women.

He then offered her up like a sacrifice to appease the angry gods. "May I have the honour of presenting Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

A mumbled chorus of greetings followed his introduction, but not even the most optimistic person would describe them as welcoming. It was clear that Elizabeth's presence seriously impinged on some of their deepest fantasies, but Jessica refused to be daunted. She would stay by his side and be his shield for as long as he needed her.

"Mr. Darcy, may I take a photograph please?" one woman said with a French lilt as she wormed her way to the front. "My friends at 'ome, they will never believe I 'ave met you."

Her question prompted other requests, and the photographs continued for a good five minutes. Cameras and phones were passed around—and even over—Jessica's head as everyone offered to take pictures of everyone else standing next to Mr. Darcy. A brassy blonde with an hour-glass figure and a broad New York drawl tried to wriggle between Darcy and Elizabeth so she could capture her 'best side'. By this time Darcy decided he'd had enough, his store of patience exhausted as he made his apologies and escorted Miss Bennet back to the house.

Avoiding the busy main entrance, they returned to the basement via the garden stairs. Leaning his head back on the outer door, she heard him sigh. "Well, we survived that scrum pretty well, I thought. Thanks for saving me."

"You're welcome." He looked so appealing at that moment, his clothes slightly dishevelled from the feminine fingers that had plucked at his coat. Jessica wasn't sure whether he was aware that two of his waistcoat buttons were now undone, while his neck cloth was definitely skewed, allowing her a tantalising glimpse of his chest through the gap in his shirt. She felt herself colour, and turned away, her gaze drifting down the corridor.

Once she calmed down, she turned back to face Darcy and found him standing much closer. "What did I tell you?" He held out his hand. Four scraps of paper lay in the palm of his glove.

"What are they?"

He shrugged. "Telephone numbers, e-mail addresses. Do you think they come prepared with a stock, or write them on the spur of the moment?"

"They want to spend a little personal time with their literary hero." Jess couldn't blame them. She'd come to Exley Hall with very similar thoughts.

"I have a horrible feeling that's not all they wanted." Darcy moved towards a long, thin mirror on a nearby wall. He held the tails of his coat to one side, uncovering one buckskin covered cheek. The reflection revealed the damning imprint of a perfect pink pout. "Those nice ladies in wardrobe will have my head for this."

Jessica giggled. She couldn't help herself. Putting her hands up to her face, the giggle turned into a laugh that she struggled to rein in.

Darcy twisted his lips, trying his best to maintain a straight face. "Well, I'm pleased I was able to offer you some entertainment."

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm laughing. The sight of the lipstick, just there. Did you feel it?"

"Of course I felt something, but they were all standing so close, and I hoped it was wandering fingers. I had no idea anyone would go that far. It could have been worse, I suppose. At least the mess is covered by the coat." He peeled off his gloves and dropped them into his upturned hat. "Not that I have anything against those sort of kisses, per se, but there's a time and a place, and I prefer to be introduced first."

They moved into the green room, to take advantage of a quick lunch. Shortly after Darcy pushed his empty plate away, he slipped out of the room, unnoticed by most of their colleagues. When he returned sometime later, he was wearing his second outfit.

"Costume change, Darcy?" Mr. Flint called out with a knowing grin.

"Wardrobe malfunction."

Mr. Gardiner shook his head. "Those fans, eh?"

Darcy nodded. "Indeed. Delightful people."

"And I'd put a fiver on that not being the only costume change you have to make this week."

At the end of the day, the time came for Darcy and Elizabeth to act out their final confrontation. Jessica knew what was coming, and she tried to prepare herself for it, but even before Darcy had begged her not to trifle with him she could feel something different between them...an energy that hadn't been there before.

As he whispered "Elizabeth", and bent his head towards her she heard gasps from the crowd, and then everything disappeared except for the soft caress of his lips against hers, and his strong arms wrapped about her shoulders and waist. Melting against him, time slowed to a crawl as she relished the feeling of being held in his gentle embrace. He released her mouth, accompanied by applause and whistles echoing around the tent. To Jessica, floundering in the depths of Sebastian's gaze, they might have been five miles away.

It took a cough from the MC to bring them back to their senses. A first aider was forced to revive one of the older members of the audience who had swooned. The elevated hum of excited conversation followed them from the tent. Their interpretation of a most beloved scene was the only topic under discussion.

Jessica was grateful when the day was over so she could change back into her jeans and t-shirt, and gain a modicum of control over herself. Darcy had already made it clear he appreciated her as a friend. It would be very wrong for her to want more. That kiss had grown to be something that tantalised her senses. It felt less like a stage kiss, and more personal somehow. Surely he wasn't that good an actor, was he?

Dinner that night was a noisy affair, as everyone around the table had horror stories to tell about their encounters with the conference visitors. Trevor complained that if anyone else told him that Mr. Flint was not a character from Pride and Prejudice, he wouldn't be responsible for his actions. "I can't help it, can I? The job was there and I took it. I don't need telling that Jane Austen didn't know Mr. Flint from Adam!"

"And I'll bet you a tenner that you hear exactly the same tomorrow," Mr Gardiner said.

"Nah. I don't bet on certainties."

Everyone turned curious eyes down the table when Jane started laughing. Succumbing to their enquiries Bingley, eyes downcast and face crimson with embarrassment, held up a neatly folded paper that had been pressed into his hand by a fan. He was encouraged to open it, and when he did he found a telephone number and details of a room at a local hotel in a small, neat hand. Mrs Gardiner asked Darcy how many he had received.

"I think the final tally was seven."

Jessica gasped. "You were given another three this afternoon? How did you manage that? I've been with you all the time and I didn't see a thing."

"Ah, the power of Darcy." Mr. Gardiner intoned in a deep voice. "There are only a handful of roles that can command such fan devotion, isn't that right, Sebastian?"

He sat back in his chair. "Yes, Darcy is a dream role for any actor, as long as he's willing to accept the minor inconveniences that go with it."

"Is that why you took this part?" When everyone's attention turned towards Georgiana, she blushed. "Well, this is a step down from what you have been doing, isn't it?"

"You could say the same about any one of us. I can't answer for anyone else, but I took this job because it's been a dream of mine to play the part of Darcy for years, and you never know when another chance might be presented to you. It's all about making the most of the opportunities you are given."

Jess was glad that she'd taken the chance to play Elizabeth Bennet. How, otherwise, would she have ever met Sebastian, her very own Mr. Darcy?


~~~~~



Later that evening they strolled across the lawn, allowing their feet to take them where they would. Darcy headed for the path that wound alongside the stream. Jessica was content to follow, breathing in the musty smell of rotting leaves along the damp water's edge when she stopped to inspect the wildflowers.

Once they were well within the protection of the green canopy, he stopped and looked up. "Isn't this a magical place? So serene and placid. I can't believe we've been so fortunate, landing in such a paradise. We could have spent a week in a grotty theatre, where everything is held together with string and a prayer."

Laughing, Jessica said, "You've obviously not seen the chest of drawers in my room."

"No, you're right. I've not."

Yet . The implication hung between them, like a spiders web, drawing them together. Jessica sucked in another deep breath, and briefly closed her eyes. When she opened them, that thread had pulled him closer.

"Elizabeth ..." That single word was filled with longing as he caressed the soft skin of her cheek. Tracing a line under her chin with his finger, he tipped her face to meet his, brushing his lips slowly across hers. As he pulled away he searched her eyes. "I'd say I'm sorry, but as you know, disguise of every sort is my abhorrence."

Despite being surprised by the kiss, she grinned when she heard the familiar words from the book. She could feel the blush heating her face, but this time she wouldn't hide it. "Your apologies aren't necessary."

"Good to know, because I won't apologise for this either." His hands rose to cradle her face, as though he wanted to be certain she couldn't escape from him; cold fingers melted against the heat of her skin. She closed her eyes, breathing in the summer scents of the garden, now mixed with the aroma of after dinner coffee. His mouth, familiar and yet different, sought hers, the softness moulding itself against her lips. When he broke away, he rested his cheek against her hair. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I wouldn't normally behave this way. I..."

Whatever mania he was suffering from, Jessica knew she'd caught it too. She lifted her head, searching for him as her hand wrapped around the nape of his neck. As she pulled his face closer, his lips slid over hers, the merest glance of skin against skin, but it sent her senses soaring. She leaned into him, her other hand seeking support from his shoulder as his hands slid down to rest on her hips, drawing her closer until his strength was the only thing keeping her upright. The idea that he found her attractive—that his feelings for her were no mere performance, to be replicated on demand—spun her completely off-balance.

Eventually, he tore himself away from her, his breathing ragged. Released from his enthralment, Jessica laid her head against his chest and sighed as he combed gentle fingers through her hair. As they stood together under the dappled shade, neither spoke nor made any move to part; the rustle of the wind in the trees a whispering accompaniment to the rhythm of their beating hearts.



~<>~@~<>~



Chapter 10


Twilight bathed the gardens as they walked in silence along the path that lead back to the house. Few words were exchanged. Both were comfortable with the silence. It was enough to be in each other's company, revelling in the touch of a hand, or the brush of a fingertip.

As they reached the outer door Jessica paused and turned to Sebastian, looking up into his eyes. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For the walk, and the company. For being you."

"There's really no need to thank me. You're the one who makes it so easy for me to be myself. I feel like I can deal with anything when you're with me."

"Even the crazy fans?"

"Especially them. They aren't half as scary when you're by my side." As Jess reached for the door handle, Sebastian covered her hand with his. "I was thinking. Would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

She laughed. "Don't we eat together every evening?"

He shook his head. "No, no...I meant just the two of us, on our own. There's a pub called the Green Man about ten minutes away, down the Lambley road. There are some good reviews on the Internet, and it's meant to have a pretty decent menu. I would be honoured if you would be my guest. Please?"

"Yes, I would love to. Thank you."

As they entered the basement and walked into the green room, Mr. Gardiner, Mr. Flint, Mrs Reynolds and Georgiana were clustered around the small square table, intent on the cards splayed in their hands. At the other end of the room, Mrs Gardiner, Bingley and Jane sat enthralled by a wildlife documentary. Of Caroline, there was no sign.

"My dear Lizzy, where can you have been walking to?" Mrs Gardiner quoted, her tongue planted firmly in her cheek.

Jessica looked around and found seven pairs of curious eyes waiting for an answer. "We walked down by the stream, and went a little further than we realised."

Trevor choked on a rich tea biscuit and needed a thump between his shoulder blades from Mrs Reynolds before he could breathe properly again.

Darcy laughed. "Now, now, Lizzy! You're giving everyone the wrong idea."

Only when she replayed her reply in her head did Jessica realise the possibilities of what she'd said. Blushing, she laughed. "I didn't mean it like that. We were just walking."

Mrs Reynolds fanned herself with her hand of cards. "That's not what they called it when I was younger."

"Me neither," Mrs Gardiner agreed, as Jess and Sebastian settled in front of the television.



~~~~~



"It is a long time since I have had the pleasure of seeing you," Mr. Bingley said, addressing Elizabeth. "It must be above eight months at least. Indeed, I believe we have not met since the twenty-sixth of November, when we were all dancing together at Netherfield."

Jess shivered on the marquee stage as a draught of cool air swirled around her ankles. She tried to ignore the goosebumps, and instead fixed a smile on her face. "I think you must be right."

"I don't think I can remember a happier time than those short months I spent in Hertfordshire, is that not so, Darcy?"

Mr. Darcy stepped forward, speaking to Mrs Gardiner. "Miss Darcy and I would be greatly honoured if you would join us for dinner before you leave the country."

Georgiana, projecting an air of shy embarrassment, concurred. "Yes, if you please. We would be very happy if you could call upon us at Pemberley. Would tomorrow evening be convenient?"

Mr. Gardiner seemed perfectly willing for his wife to accept the invitation. Jess said nothing, instead turning her head and attempting to appear suitably embarrassed. Conjuring the memory of Sebastian's kiss in the garden the previous night was all it took to bring the heat back to her cheeks.

"Thank you," Mrs Gardiner said. "We shall be delighted."

"An excellent notion!" Bingley agreed, "That will allow us an opportunity to talk about your family."

"And shall we hear you play?" Georgiana asked of Elizabeth.

"If you insist upon it then yes, you shall."

The audience clapped and cheered as they concluded the last scene of the morning. Jess smiled as she stood on the stage, looking out at the sea of faces. Many more seemed to be wearing costumes for the second day of the conference, and various feathered bonnets and turbans nodded like feeding birds as they too showed their appreciation.

Even before the previous scene had begun, Darcy had revealed three telephone numbers and one email address scrawled on the now familiar scraps of paper. One loud Scottish woman had even threatened to throw a bottle of water over him just so she could have a photograph standing next to Darcy in a clinging wet shirt. As much as Jessica might have liked to see that herself, she wasn't surprised when Sebastian had refused to humour her request.

As the applause died down, they left the stage, with Darcy leading the way. He managed to make it out of the marquee, along with Georgiana, before the rest of them were ambushed by a large group of fans, eager to question the actors who were portraying their favourite characters. While Jess was quite happy to remain in character, she struggled to provide them with the answers they desired.

A portly lady with greying hair, wearing a fanciful bonnet of feathers and bows, seemed less than impressed by Jessica's costume. "Miss Bennet. Why do you not carry a reticule?"

"My reticule? I left it with my other belongings at the Inn at Lambton." Whatever a reticule might be. It sounded like a Georgian instrument of torture, but Jessica assumed that as she was supposed to carry it, it was either an item of clothing or some kind of accessory. Perhaps an early form of pepper spray, to dissuade those dashing Regency bucks from making free with a young maid's virtue.

A fresh-faced young female with a high ponytail and round glasses held up her hand. "Mr. Bingley, would you marry me?"

Gareth's cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink. "I am afraid you have the advantage of me, Miss...?"

"Taylor," she whispered, as though she hadn't expected him to say anything more than no.

"Well, Miss Taylor, I feel it is incumbent on me to reveal that my heart is quite devoted to another. It would, therefore, be impossible for me to accept your very generous offer." Gareth's gentle tone and heartfelt speech made the ladies in the group sigh audibly. Miss Taylor, in particular, seemed grateful for his thoughtful response as they all agreed Jane Bennet was very fortunate in her admirer.

After that, Mr. Gardiner answered a question about his carriage, before the group put Mrs Reynolds under interrogation. She did best of all, responding with a calm assurance and enough detail to prove herself informed about Regency housekeeping procedures. Scenting the presence of genuine knowledge, two or three of the fans shot their hands into the air, keen to learn more about the secrets of the still-room.

Looking for signs of Darcy, Jessica caught sight of what appeared to be the shoulder and sleeve of his blue coat outside the marquee. He was standing on the lawn, answering questions of his own. The breeze caught the flapping canvas door, which moved enough to reveal his inquisitor as a tall, blonde female she recognised.

Jessica couldn't help but wonder exactly what Mrs Rivers-Smithe was offering Mr. Darcy this time. Would that woman never leave him alone?

Once they'd escaped the unplanned question and answer session, she joined Mr. and Mrs Gardiner and Georgiana in the green room for lunch. Jessica propped her chin on her palm as she toyed with her salad, while the chair next to hers remained empty. Darcy's break should have matched hers. The last time she'd seen him was outside the marquee with Mrs Rivers-Smithe. Was the owner of Exley Hall still questioning him?

She washed down the last of her chicken with some apple juice and took the stairs to the main floor of the house. Although Jess passed one or two groups of visitors, no one bothered her as she headed towards the ballroom, which, in about an hour's time, would be the location of their first scene after lunch.

Just outside the ballroom was a sign, standing on a tripod, listing the talks that would be held there that afternoon. 'Economics in Regency England' sounded a bit dull to Jess, although the final lecture promised to be more lively. She had no doubt that 'Sexual symbolism in Jane Austen's works' would be a fascinating and popular topic.

She was almost tempted to sneak in the back and listen herself.

At the end of the corridor, a partially glazed door lead out to the garden. It was also the best place to view the lawn in front of the marquee, where she had last seen Darcy. Although many of the conference attendees were milling around there was no sign of Sebastian.

Returning to the basement, she checked the green room again, finding it empty. Jess was now so used to spending her lunchtimes chatting with Darcy, it seemed odd for him not to be around. Then she remembered that during their long walk the previous evening they'd found a small gazebo, hidden away behind an overgrown rhododendron. At the time Sebastian suggested it as a great place they could hide from the visitors. Could he have escaped there, hoping she would remember?

Jess left the house, her eyes scanning the milling visitors for a sight of Darcy. She was halfway down a lonely stretch of path that headed into the garden when a sharp, reedy voice called out to her.

"Miss Bennet? I wonder if I might be allowed to share a few words with you." The man who had appeared on the path behind her was tall and thin, with a pointed jaw and long, rat-like nose. His tweed jacket with leather patches at the elbows gave the impression of a nerdy college lecturer, while his square, thick-rimmed spectacles suggested librarian.

Unfortunately his eyes, she had come to recognise, were pure rabid fan.

Jessica looked around, hoping to see someone else—a group of women, or one of her cast mates—nearby, but at that moment there was not a soul in sight. Not wishing to offend the man, she accepted his company while resolutely turning back towards the house. Although he hadn't yet said or done anything to concern her, she had seen enough over the last two days to feel wary about being alone with any of the Austen fans, whether male or female. As long as she kept him moving towards the Hall there was always the chance that she would meet someone else, and there was safety in company.

"I have been walking here for some time in the hope of meeting you, Miss Bennet." He grinned, pleased that he'd been able to use the line he must have been practising for hours. "My friend and I were having a discussion this morning, and I think you could shed some light on the correct answer to the conundrum we face."

"Your friend?" As far as she could see they were still alone. Perhaps his friend was of the invisible variety.

He waved a limp, dismissive hand in the general direction of the Hall. "Yes, Nigel. He's in the refreshment tent at the moment. He prefers to be called Edward, after Edward Ferrars you know, but that persona really does not suit him very well."

"And you are?"

He stopped on the path, a delicate, slightly effeminate hand raised to his chest. "Oh! I am so sorry. Of course, we have not been properly introduced. I...am...Fitzwilliam Darcy." He bowed with all the grace and elegance a skinny, lecturer-type could hope to aspire to.

Although she tried valiantly to hide the scepticism in her voice, Jessica's eyebrows rose of their own accord, like puppets on a string. "Really?"

His returning smile was slightly condescending. "I appreciate you have no reason to believe me, but it's true. I changed my name by deed poll." He reached into his inside pocket and drew out a folded document. "Look, I can prove it."

"It is not necessary. Your word as a gentleman is more than sufficient." Did he honestly believe that changing his name would turn him some sort of romantic hero? Hoping to divert his attention, she resumed her stroll along the path. "And what is this conundrum you speak of? How may I assist you?"

He stuffed the paper haphazardly back into his pocket, jogging to keep up with her. "Our disagreement revolves around your feelings for Mr. Darcy—the one in the book that is. What exactly made you fall in love with him?"

Jessica smiled, grateful that she knew the source material so well. "Why, it has been coming on so gradually that I hardly know when it began."

"Yes...yes." He waved an impatient hand, brushing away her empty platitudes. "But which of Mr. Darcy's attributes first attracted you? Was it his tall, noble mien and impressive intelligence? Or perhaps his masculine physique?"

It seemed to Jessica that he was more than a little interested in her reply. He had drawn himself up to his full height, his chest puffed out, and she realised that no matter what answer she gave him he would assume it referred to him. She was looking down, pondering how best to respond without giving him any encouragement, when he grabbed her upper arms; the delicate fingers applying more pressure than she thought possible. "Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth! You are the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld!"

She tried to pull away, but his hold was surprisingly firm. "This is not the sort of behaviour I would expect from a gentleman. Please, let me go."

"No...no. Not until you swear you will be mine."

The wild look in his eyes sparked a stab of panic in the pit of Jessica's stomach. If she'd been wearing her jeans and t-shirt she wouldn't have thought twice about dealing with such a shockingly poor imitation of Darcy. Dressed as Elizabeth Bennet, and determined not to drop character unless absolutely necessary, Jess resorted to fighting him with Austen's own words. "Sir, I am sensible of the honour of your proposal, but it is impossible for me to do otherwise than decline."

Behind the thick-rimmed glasses, she saw a glint of appreciation for her riposte. "Oh, my dear. I am quite aware that it is acceptable practice for young ladies to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept."

What self-respecting Darcy would use Mr. Collins' words as justification? "I am not one of those young ladies, and I am perfectly serious in my refusal."

His grip tightened as he pulled her closer, a grotesque sneer twisting his face. "You are the most terrible tease, Miss Bennet, but once you get to know me you will see how well matched we truly are."

Only then did Jess realise how appallingly she had misjudged the situation. Words alone would not satisfy such a crazed lunatic as this. Before she had time to react, or even turn her face away, his damp, mobile lips made contact with the corner of her mouth.<

Chapter 11



Jess shied away from his kiss, twisting her head to break the cringing contact with his lips. Before her brain could register the soft thud of footsteps on grass, his confining hands were torn away as suddenly as they'd appeared. She opened her eyes and looked around.

The counterfeit Fitzwilliam Darcy—leather patches and all—was now sprawled in the grass, quaking before the terrifying form of an angry Mr. Bingley.

They say that clothes maketh the man, and it was quite remarkable how the formal Regency costume—particularly his boots, Jessica thought—could turn a teddy-bear like Gareth, into a man who looked like he could happily commit murder.

Bingley held the tip of his cane up to the man's throat like a rapier, his soft green eyes now blazing with furious fire. "What the hell do you think you are doing?"

The man's eyes grew wide, as his jaw flexed. "I...I..."

Although never once stepping out of his Regency mindset, Gareth was playing Bingley in a way Miss Austen had never shown in her book; as the true Master of Netherfield. "You, sir, are no gentleman, to be man-handling a lady in that disgusting fashion."

"But...I..."

"There are no words that would excuse such boorish behaviour. Apologise to Miss Bennet. Now."

"Yes, yes, of course." The parody of Mr. Darcy scrambled to his knees before turning in abject misery to abase himself in front of Jessica. "I am dreadfully sorry, Miss Bennet. I do not know what came over me."

"No harm has been done," she said in a calming tone, as much for Bingley's benefit as the man he now threatened.

"You are too generous," the fruitcake grovelled, as he stood, brushing at the soil and dust now clinging to his trousers. Jess thought it the least he deserved.

Gareth, however, was not so easily appeased. Although he'd withdrawn his cane, he still held the thin rod in an aggressive grip. "Now you've done that, I would recommend you leave my sight, quickly." His words were quiet, but no one hearing them could ignore his determination as the tip of his cane flicked towards the path. "And if I set eyes on you again I guarantee that we will be meeting tomorrow morning. Early tomorrow morning."

Straightening his thick glasses, the man who called himself Fitzwilliam Darcy made a jerky bow before scooting away between the shrubs.

Jess wanted to laugh―more from relief than seeing any humour in the situation―but one glance at Gareth's face was enough to douse her smile. "Thank you for coming to my assistance, Mr. Bingley."

He offered a bow. "You are more than welcome, Miss Bennet." He paused then, looking around to make sure there were no guests in sight before his shoulders sagged. "Seriously though, Jessica, did he hurt you?"

She rubbed her arms under the velvet spencer jacket. They were a little sore where the psycho fan had clamped his fingers, but she didn't want to make a fuss. "No, not really. A few bruises, maybe, but nothing serious. I never imagined he would grab me like that." Jess lifted a shaking hand, to brush back the wisps of hair that had fallen from beneath her bonnet.

"You've had a shock." Gareth's voice was almost back to its calm self, as he took her hand, resting it on his arm as though they were going for a stroll. "Let's find Mandy. She needs to know what just happened, and I don't like to think of you being on your own out here when there are people like that about."

"I'm okay, honestly. I'm amazed I managed to stay in character."

"It might have been better if you'd dropped the Regency act and told him to sod off."

"Yes, I should have, but he took me by surprise. One minute we were talking about Elizabeth's relationship with Mr. Darcy, and the next he'd...he..." She took a calming breath as the memory made her heart race. "I don't think the man was quite sane. He'd changed his name to Fitzwilliam Darcy, you know."

Gareth snorted. "If only it were so easy." He frowned, searching the gardens again. "Talking of the devil, where is Sebastian? Why is he not with you?"

"I don't know. He wasn't at lunch. I came out to see if I could find him, but I met the scary guy instead."

They walked a few moments longer in silence before Jessica's curiosity got the better of her. "What did you mean when you spoke about meeting him in the morning?"

A brief smile curled the corners of his mouth. "Ah...well, as many of the fans are enamoured of all things Georgian, I was telling him that I would be prepared to challenge him to a duel for your honour. I thought it was a threat he might understand."

"You'd do that for me?"

He shrugged, his gaze fixed on the path. "Why not? We're friends, aren't we? I don't like to see any man taking advantage of a friend. I've had some training with a pistol."

"Firing blanks, I presume?"

"Yeah, of course. They didn't let me near live ammunition, but I know the basics. I've done some sword work too. Enough to put on a decent show anyway."

Jessica nodded, but she had stopped listening to him; her imagination drifting to a vision of Mr. Darcy, in shirtsleeves and breeches, bringing his sword up to salute an opponent. She wondered whether Sebastian could fence. If he'd been at the RSC, even as an understudy, the chances were good that he knew the basics too.

Gareth cleared his throat. "Jess, while we're alone, there's something I—"

Jessica waved as she spotted the real Darcy striding across the lawn to meet them. Bingley sighed, then rested his hands on top of his cane as he waited for Sebastian.

"Miss Bennet." He bowed before nodding towards Bingley. "What is he doing here?"

Jess grabbed Darcy's arm. "He saved me from a psycho fan."

Sebastian dropped out of character instantly, his eyes darkening as his gloved fingers curled into a fist. "You can't be serious."

"Does she look like she's joking? Jess was terrified."

Ignoring Bingley, he swung around to check on Jessica. "My God! Are you alright?"

"She might not have been. The lunatic had already grabbed her when I arrived." Gareth stabbed his cane into the turf. "Where the hell were you?"

"Oh, don't ask! Mandy sewed me up good and proper with Mrs Rivers-Whatever. I would have wangled my way out of the old bag's invitation if she hadn't poked her nose in."

Jess looked up. "What invitation? Is that why you didn't come in for lunch?"

"Yes. I was forced to drink tea and eat cucumber sandwiches in her private kitchen. In return, she wittered on about how she's always thought the character of Darcy was wonderful, and how I'm just perfect for the role, while I pretended to give a damn."

"Well, that shouldn't have caused you any problems," Bingley said. "It's not like you can't act the part when necessary."

Darcy threw him a sharp glance. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be? Doesn't your angel Jane need some of your attention too? Practice does make perfect, after all. I've got things covered here now, thanks. We won't keep you."

Bingley held his position for a few seconds. The scene reminded Jess of two tomcats having a staring contest, and she was surprised when Darcy turned away first. She smiled at Gareth, hoping to diffuse some of the tension between the two men. "I know I'm repeating myself, but thank you. I really am very grateful that you found me when you did."

"Any time, Jessica. I suppose you're in safe enough hands for now, so I'll see you later." Bingley swung his cane, lashing out at an ornamental grass as he strode away.

Darcy yanked the cuffs of his shirt down. "I thought he'd never leave."

"Why are you so angry with Gareth?"

He waved a deprecating hand. "Oh, it's old news. Jones and I studied together for a time. Let's just say we didn't always see eye to eye."

"He seems so easy going. I can't imagine why you two wouldn't be friends."

Sebastian shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe I'm too much competition for him. He isn't quite as angelic as he makes out, you know." He scooped up her gloved hand, pressing a kiss to the back of her fingers. "Let's not talk about him. I'm far more interested to hear how you managed to attract such enthusiastic yet unwanted attention."

"Well, it was all your fault, really."

"How was it my fault when I wasn't even here?"

She described how lonely she'd felt when he hadn't turned up for lunch. "After checking all the usual places I was heading towards that old gazebo we saw last night, thinking you might have escaped there. That's when the lunatic waylaid me."

"Ah, I see. Mea culpa! If it helps any, I would have much rather been eating lunch with you. Alas, I too was ensnared by a crazy fan of my very own. It must be something in this Derbyshire air that turns everyone into book-obsessed zombies.


~~~~~~


"Mr. Darcy. My sentiments on this occasion are so...so very different from your previous declaration that I imagine you must think me quite fickle. My feelings have altered, to such a startling degree, that it is almost impossible for me to sufficiently express my gratitude of your happy assurances."

As Darcy's arms wrapped around her, and his lips found hers, Jess felt as though she was floating in a sea of happiness. No stage kiss had ever felt like the kisses she shared with Sebastian.

As their final scene ended, applause erupted from the crowd as phones and cameras bloomed like poppy heads over the audience, blinding Jess momentarily with the flashlights. "You do realise that this could be all over the internet by teatime," Darcy whispered.

"I noticed one woman filming the kiss. Do you think we'll end up on YouTube?" Jessica giggled at the thought of her big break coming from such an unlikely source.

He graciously accepted the standing ovation their performance had won. "How did you see her?"

"Over your shoulder."

He was smiling at the audience as he hissed through his teeth: "Damn. If you had enough wits about you to do that, I must be losing my touch."

"Don't worry, there's no risk of that happening."

They left the stage and headed back towards the house, making their way down the basement stairs. It was time to shed the cocoons of their characters and become themselves once more. Having deposited her gown, spencer and bonnet with wardrobe, she took the stairs two at a time to reach her bedroom. She didn't want to be late for her date.

In the corridor she found Jane leaning against the wall, chatting to Bingley, who stood in the doorway of his room. They stopped talking as soon as they heard her coming, which rankled slightly. It wasn't as though she cared what they were talking about. "Sorry to interrupt your tête à tête . Darcy's taking me to Lambley tonight for dinner. I need to get ready."

Gareth frowned. "You mean Sebastian."

"Of course."

"You and he seem to be growing close," Jane said.

Blushing, Jess agreed. "When he first came into the green room I never dreamed he would be interested in me. It just shows how your perceptions of people can be all wrong, doesn't it?"

"Don't be so quick to put yourself down," Gareth said. "Sometimes trusting your first instincts isn't a bad thing."

"Just because you and Sebastian don't get on, it doesn't give you the right to question his motives."

Jane excused herself, returning to her room and closing the door. Jessica began to do the same, but Bingley's hand on her arm made her pause. "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

She shook her head. "I don't even have a minute. We have a table booked for seven, and I don't have a clue what I'm going to wear yet."

Gareth stood on the threshold of her bedroom, leaning against the door frame. "Jessica, please, it's important."

She had no idea what the real issue was between Bingley and Darcy, but she didn't want to get involved with any of it. "I'm sorry. I really don't have time to talk now."

"Maybe we can catch up tomorrow then."

Jessica's thoughts had already galloped ahead as she reviewed the small selection of clothes hanging on the hooks, and she barely caught what he'd said. "Yeah, I'll see you in the morning."



~<>~@~<>~




Chapter 12


A little after half past six, Jess met Sebastian at the bottom of the main staircase. He offered her a gentlemanly bow before taking her hand and escorting her to the Exley Hall staff car park. "Your carriage awaits, my lady."

Sebastian's 'carriage' was an old two-seat sports car, which he laughingly described as white with a hint of rust. Jess didn't know a lot about cars but knew enough to recognise the Alfa Romeo badge on the front. It was almost old enough to be called a classic, but Jess thought the vehicle suited its owner as they bowled along the narrow lanes towards Lambley. The Alfa was sporty enough to turn heads, yet she felt safe and comfortable as they sped between the hedgerows

It took less than ten minutes to reach the Green Man, a traditional country pub built from weathered grey stone, with a dark slate roof and small, square windows. When he escorted her into the bar he had to duck beneath a low beam before steering her to a small table in a cosy nook. Once they'd dealt with the business of ordering their food, Sebastian sat back in his chair, his long legs crossed at the ankles. "Well, here we are."

Jess knew exactly what he meant. A romantic meal for two, while tucked in an intimate corner of a nice restaurant, was a different experience for both of them. It felt nothing like two work colleagues eating together. Yet they'd spent so much time swapping stories, either in the green room or while walking around the gardens, that Jess wasn't sure what else they would find to talk about.

"This reminds me of an old pub we used to visit when I worked in Stratford," he said. "Have you ever been there?"

"No, I've I never had the chance, but I'd love to see it."

"The theatre is incredible. Right by the river...a beautiful location. If we'd been working there this week I would have taken you for a walk along the riverside. It's almost as serene as the Exley Hall gardens, or it would be if there weren't quite so many tourists. They have ghost walks as well, although I don't think it would be quite the same in daylight. You need a dark autumn evening to really appreciate the spooky atmosphere." He reached over to take her hand in his. "Although that's not to say we won't get the chance to see it later in the year."

Was he really talking about them being together in three or four months? Or longer? Jess hadn't allowed herself the luxury of thinking too far ahead. She was happy to live in the here and now and see where life took them. As they ate, Sebastian offered anecdotes about the older, more experienced actors he'd worked with at the Royal Shakespeare Company, and how seriously they'd taken their work.

"Not that I wouldn't have been serious if I'd been on stage with them. It's hard to be an understudy and watch everyone else perform, night after night. I thought they might give me one or two matinees, but someone enjoyed their job too much to take a day off, and they were never ill. It reminded me of being back in stage school, where certain kids always ended up drawing the short straw."

"You mean the back half of a pantomime cow?"

He laughed. "Yeah, that's the one. I enjoyed my time there, don't get me wrong, but there's always somebody there who seems to get out more than they put in." He sighed. "Gareth Jones was one of those people."

"I had no idea that you two knew each other until you mentioned it this afternoon."

"You could say we have a mutual antipathy. I try to pretend he doesn't exist, and he does the same with me. Jones and I were studying at the same time, although we never socialised and rarely shared classes together."

"Gareth has always seemed so friendly. Why don't you like him?"

He dropped his fork onto his plate. "We're very different people. I worked really hard to earn my place, and a lot of equally hard working people weren't so lucky. So you could say I have a problem with anyone who can walk into a spot on a very popular performing arts course just because he knows the right people."

"Gareth did that?"

"Yeah. I'm not even sure he went through the full audition process. They just opened the doors for him and he sauntered right in, while better guys were overlooked. Acceptance should be based on talent, rather than who you know. One of the directors of the school was his godfather, or so I heard."

Jessica thought back to her own studies. Her personal circumstances were well known and there was no doubt her family connections had helped. She'd been thankful for it at the time. "I can imagine that would be irritating."

"That's not the worst of it. Our saintly Mr. Bingley used to act like some arbiter of morality, holding himself as a perfect example of manners and honesty, and criticising anyone he thought didn't come up to his exalted standards. Then he almost gets himself thrown out, all over some girl who ended up pregnant."

"You're not serious."

Sebastian sighed. "I swear I'm not making this up. Favours were called in, promises made, and he clung onto his place by the skin of his teeth. Anyone else would have been kicked off the course. That sort of favouritism sticks in my throat."

"Well, I can see why you didn't get on with him then, but Gareth seems nice enough now. Maybe he's changed? People often do, as they get older."

He reached out, taking her hand in his. "I neither know nor care. My attention has been more agreeably entertained since I arrived in Derbyshire."

Accepting the hint, she turned the conversation to other things while they lingered over dessert and coffee. At the end of the meal, Sebastian insisted on paying for the whole thing, even though Jess was more than willing to split the bill.

As they left the pub, wishing the regulars a friendly "good night" on their way out of the door, his grip on her hand remained firm. The sun had almost set, and the crescent outline of a translucent moon hung in the lilac sky. The last rays of light from below the horizon limned the undersides of the grey clouds building from the west; the kind of dramatic background more suited to a Shakespearean drama than a comfortable romance.

Jess stopped by the car, looking out across the undulating countryside. A few sheep were cropping grass on the other side of an old stone wall. She moved closer to watch them, their dark eyes meeting hers with only the mildest of interest. "You would think I'd be bored of this rural idyll by now, but I still can't get over how quiet and beautiful it all is."

Sebastian stood behind her, his arms snaking around her waist as he whispered in her ear. "Why, Miss Bennet, you have stolen the words from my mouth. I was thinking inside that I have rarely encountered such beauty." His fingers trailed through her hair, which she'd worn loose for her date. He brushed it back, away from her face, and then ran a finger down her exposed cheek. "I very much enjoyed being with you tonight."

"Me too. It was a lovely meal. Thank you for inviting me."

He turned her around until he had her full attention. Although his eyes were in shadow, she could still sense him staring down at her. Bending slightly, he kissed the tip of her nose. "It was entirely"—he kissed her again—"my"—and again—"pleasure." With that, he bent lower, capturing her mouth in a way that stirred her senses. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing heavily.

"I've been wanting to kiss you all evening," he said. "You probably didn't realise, but when you were eating your pudding, there was a little smudge of ice cream clinging to your mouth, just here." He kissed her again, concentrating on the bottom edge of her lower lip.

When he reluctantly released her, Jess smiled up at him. "We really ought to be getting back. We—" She covered her mouth as a yawn overwhelmed her words.

"Because some of us have an early start in the morning?" He grinned. "Come on, then."

The ride home was almost silent, but filled with ponderous looks on both sides, neither wanting to say anything that might spoil the mood. When his hand wasn't needed to change gears, it was more often on her thigh than the steering wheel, his thumb unconsciously stroking back and forth. By the time they arrived at the Hall, it was almost full dark. He parked the car, then leaned over to steal a final lingering kiss before they went inside, through the basement.

As they paused outside the green room, they could hear Trevor and Mr. Gardiner laughing. "Did you want to stay downstairs with the others for a bit?" Sebastian asked.

She wasn't really in the mood to socialise with anyone else, not after having Sebastian to herself all evening. Besides, it was getting late. "No, I'm fine." She checked her watch. "I think I'll turn in if that's okay."

"No problem." They climbed the stairs, hand in hand, until they reached the top floor. He paused, leaning against the door to his room. "I can't tempt you with a glass of something before bedtime?" He pulled her closer, his lips skating down her cheek until he reached a spot just beneath her ear.

Jess sighed. "I really shouldn't."

"Just for a few minutes," he whispered against her neck. "One drink. I promise I'll have you back home before curfew."

She shook her head. "Not tonight. Maybe another time."

Sebastian straightened, although he returned her smile with a sheepish grin of his own. "You can't blame me for wanting to spend every minute I can with you. Especially when you're so enticing."

As he escorted her down the narrow hallway, Jessica was very aware of the lateness of the hour, and knew that some of the group would already be in bed. The last thing she wanted was to wake anyone up, or advertise what time they'd come back. She stopped outside her own door and smiled up at him. "I had a good time tonight."

He trailed a fingertip across the slender arch of her eyebrow and down the side of her face. "So did I." The kiss that followed was a gentle caress rather than a full-on seduction. "I only wish—"

The door behind them opened, and a sleepy Gareth checked his step as he saw them standing there. "Don't mind me. Just carry on with whatever you were doing. I didn't see a thing."

As he walked away towards the bathroom, Jess felt a twinge of guilt, then stopped herself. Why should she feel bad? It wasn't as though either of them were doing anything wrong. They were both adults after all, and it shouldn't matter what anyone else thought.

But it did matter to Jessica. She'd met Darcy—Sebastian, she reminded herself—less than a week earlier. She wasn't the sort of person who fell into bed with every handsome man she met.

Sebastian sighed as he watched Gareth's retreating back. He lifted his hand and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, before tilting her chin up, pressing his lips softly to hers. "I'd better say goodnight now, before he comes back, otherwise I'll be in for a lecture." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

His second kiss was bolder, hinting at a tightly reined passion, until the sound of a flushing toilet echoed down the spartan hallway, breaking the spell between them. Sebastian stepped away and wished her a good night.

Jess whispered, "Good night," before watching him walk back down the corridor to his own room. She was still leaning against her door frame when Gareth returned.

"You okay?" It was hard to tell whether his frown grew from disapproval or concern.

Considering he had no right to feel either emotion, Jessica's reply came out sharper than she intended. "Of course. There's no reason why I shouldn't be."

His weary sigh seemed amplified in the now empty corridor. "Good night, Jessica. Sleep well."

She turned her back on him, closing the door behind her, before sinking onto the bed in her dark bedroom. The bulb was still lit outside, but the thin sliver of golden light that shone through the gap under her door was broken. She heard a scrape of a shoe on the wooden floor; then another, and she knew that Gareth was still standing outside, right in front of her door. The mercurial band of light shifted as he paced up and down outside.

Gareth Jones was acting like a mother bear, shielding a feeble cub, but she had no idea why he should feel so protective of her. Her relationship with Sebastian was no concern of his, regardless of what had happened between them in the past.

A minute later she heard a door open and close, and the presence was gone.<

Chapter 13


Wednesday morning dawned to sullen grey skies and weather more typical of an English June than the pleasant summer days they'd enjoyed so far that week.

Jess stirred soggy cornflakes around her bowl as she described the delicious menu available at the Green Man. When Sebastian didn't make an appearance for his usual coffee and toast, Caroline slipped into his chair and leaned towards Jess. "My dear, what on earth have you done to poor Mr. Darcy?"

"Not a thing. He was fine when I last saw him. Perhaps he overslept?"

Miss Bingley's smile twisted slightly as Mr. Flint pushed his chair away from the table and rose with a stately grace, saying, "I'll check on him."

She was grateful Trevor had offered. After her late-night conversation with Sebastian, she wasn't sure it was a good idea to put temptation in his way by knocking on his bedroom door.

When she arrived in wardrobe, Jessica was relieved that the day's dress was long sleeved. There was a damp chill in the air as the cold cotton and muslin brushed against her skin, although the two petticoats beneath her skirts would soon warm her up. Three months ago her favourite daydream had been the one where she'd woken up in the early 19th century, surrounded by the same world Jane Austen wrote about in her novels. Now she was finally getting to experience a tiny bit of that dream. The delicate dresses with their high waists were comfortable enough, but she was increasingly glad to slide back into her jeans at the end of the day.

Those taking part in the first two scenes moved through the house to the backstage corridor just before the hall officially opened to visitors. Jessica sat on one of the hard chairs, next to Mrs Gardiner, while Mr. Gardiner stood in front of his favourite seascape, pondering the stationary waves. He held his hands behind his back, rocking back and forth on his heels as they waited for the signal from Mandy that they should enter the breakfast room to begin.

On Sunday there had been a queue waiting for the house to open, so they'd had a decent sized audience for their first scene. Ten minutes before they were due to speak their opening lines, Mandy came to let them know that not one car had entered the Exley Hall's visitor car park.

Jess had seen plenty of empty theatre seats due to unexpected bad weather. One weekend a few winters ago a big blizzard had caused havoc on the roads just before Christmas, and many of the audience had decided to stay at home rather than risk an accident. But the difference between theatres and stately homes was that people pre-booked tickets for plays and pantomimes, sometimes months in advance, and made every effort to attend.

Visiting a stately home in the middle of the countryside was more of a spontaneous decision, which could be easily swayed by the presence of dark clouds on the horizon, or a less than promising weather report. Part of Exley Hall's charm was its extensive grounds and the miles of woodland walks that crossed the estate. Why would anyone choose to pay the substantial entrance fee on such a dreary day, when at least half their visit would leave them decidedly damp?

Mandy raked a flustered hand through her hair. "I never imagined there would be no visitors in June. What should we do?"

"It's still early yet," Mrs Reynolds said. "They could turn up for the second or third scene."

Mrs Gardiner sniffed. "Why should they when they could put it off by twenty-four hours and enjoy the Regency fair at no extra charge?"

Gerald rolled his eyes. "Do you realise this house has been standing for a long time. There's more history here than just the one short time period. One of the early 20th century occupants left a beautiful collection of antique fishing flies." He turned back to Mandy. "Do you want us to start as usual and play to an empty room?"

"No...no. We'll pick up the schedule as soon as we have an audience, so you'll need to stay ready. In the meantime, we'll wait down in the basement where it's warmer. At least you'll be comfortable there." She headed towards the main entrance hall to chat with Mr. Flint, who had no choice but to hold his place as he waited to greet the first visitors of the day.

They made their way downstairs, where Bingley, Jane and Caroline were already in costume. Mr. Gardiner pulled a pack of cards out of his coat pocket. "Anyone up for a game while we wait?"

Mrs Gardiner showed an interest, but only because she didn't have her Sudoku handy. Mrs Reynolds took her usual seat at the card table while Emily went to wardrobe to change out of her maid's dress and into something more appropriate for Georgiana Darcy.

Caroline wandered across the room towards Jessica, looking very pleased with herself. "Miss Eliza Bennet, may I persuade you to follow my example, and take a turn about the room?"

"No."

One of her perfectly plucked eyebrows rose slightly. She sank gracefully into the armchair next to Jess. "Did someone fall out the wrong side of the bed this morning? Or the wrong bed even?"

"I slept in my own room last night."

"Oh dear. Is that why you're grumpy? Or did Sebastian keep you awake past your bedtime?"

A cloud of silence enveloped the card table. There was nothing more inquisitive than a group of actors, and Jess felt their attention firmly focused between her shoulder blades. "I can't for the life of me imagine how that's any of your business."

Although she could have hardly phrased it any plainer, her rebuff slid past Caroline like water off the proverbial duck's back. Instead, Ruth's expression changed to one of innocent enquiry. "Speaking of...where is Sebastian this morning?"

"I have no idea. I'm not his keeper."

Miss Bingley's smile grew wider. "Well, if you want my advice—"

Jessica held up her hand. "I don't."

With a shrug of her elegant shoulders, Caroline retreated. When she reached the others, clustered around the table, Jessica heard the murmur of exchanged whispers, but she refused to turn around, instead concentrating on the television.

Eventually, Darcy arrived from wardrobe, looking unusually flustered as he fastened the last of his waistcoat buttons. "Sorry I'm late. I think I picked up a bit of a bug." His mouth twisted as he rubbed his stomach. "It might have been those prawns I had last night. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine, but I didn't have any shellfish. Was it bad?"

"Not bad enough to wake me up, but I knew about it when I reached the bathroom." He looked around the room. "What's going on? Why are you all down here? Shouldn't you be on the second scene by now?"

Jess pointed to the high windows, reflecting a sliver of dark grey sky. "Have you not noticed the weather?"

"Can't say I have. I had other things to occupy my attention."

"Mandy will give us a shout when anyone arrives, but for the moment we're missing an integral part of the performance, our audience, and it doesn't look like the weather will let up anytime soon."

He joined her in front of the TV, and they spent some time laughing at some people's taste in decorating. After a while, Sebastian began to shift in his chair, twirling the watch chain around his finger. "This is boring. Have you seen any of the upstairs rooms?"

Although they'd played their scenes in most of the ground floor salons, Jess had never followed the tour of the first floor. "Not yet, but surely Mandy would rather we stay here and not go wandering off."

"You'll never know if you don't ask." He left the servant's hall, presumably to look for Mandy, and came back five minutes later. "The poor girl's standing at the breakfast room window with a pair of binoculars, on the watch for the greater spotted tourist. We're allowed to look around upstairs though, if you'd like to. She'll send someone to find us if we're needed."

Jess accepted his invitation, and they made their way upstairs. "I can't imagine anything better than being shown around by the Master of the house."

"I'd like to think I could do it as well as, if not better than, Mrs Reynolds."

The first floor rooms were mostly bedrooms, but nothing like any bedroom Jess had seen before. They were cavernous spaces, decorated in gaudy colours. The beds were either massive wooden monstrosities, with posts carved out of whole tree-trunks, or gravity-defying canopies of gilded wood. Emerald and ruby brocade drapes decorated with gold thread were protected from light damage by the liberal use of semi-opaque blinds. It made the rooms seem dull, particularly when the weather was grey outside, but Jessica understood the importance of protecting the rich dyes from fading.

During their exploration, Sebastian proved himself a master of improvisation as he created a history for each room based upon his wholly imaginary Darcy family. He described one bedroom as the favourite of Amelia Darcy, Fitzwilliam's great-grandmother and former London courtesan. Another belonged to his Great Aunt Clarissa Darcy, who had the misfortune to lose four husbands to various forms of death or disease, and was later known as the Black Widow. His enthusiastic story-telling, while staying perfectly in character as Mr. Darcy, kept Jess amused for a good twenty minutes as they followed the marked tour.

At the end of a wood-panelled corridor, they arrived in a room that had already been described to her. The large bed, draped in blue and gold, was far taller than she had imagined, its canopy standing at least ten feet off the floor. The oriental ebony cabinets, chased with brass inlaid scenes, didn't look at all English. The wallpaper showed little Chinese figures on arched bridges, or colourful birds with long tail feathers, while a display cabinet held examples of blue and white porcelain showing temples and fishermen.

She saw Sebastian's reflection in the glass of the cabinet, just before he wrapped his arms around her waist. "Now, if this really was Pemberley you would be trespassing in my domain, for this is the master's chamber." His lips moved along the edge of her ear, causing the tiny hairs on her skin to rise. "Were you to be caught in here, alone with me, Miss Bennet, your reputation would be thoroughly..."—he turned her around within his arms until she faced him—"ruined."

As he lowered his mouth towards hers, Jess pressed a palm to his chest, pushing him back. She felt the raised embroidery stitches of his waistcoat beneath her skin, along with the determined beat of his heart. "Not while we're working."

Sebastian held himself still, turning his head left and right as he looked around the room. "I see no audience."

"If I'm in costume then I'm working." She wriggled from within the circle of his arms and moved away from the cabinet. "Besides, Miss Bennet would never have entered Mr. Darcy's bedchamber. At least not until after the end of the book, when they were married."

He smiled. "Are you so sure about that? You're here now aren't you?"

"Yes, but I'm not—"

"Darcy knew just what he wanted out of life and set out to achieve it. That's why he was so confident of his proposal in Kent."

"He was confident because he was proud, and couldn't imagine anyone ever refusing him, particularly a country gentleman's daughter. You must see that her rejection of him seriously undermined his confidence."

Sebastian took her hand. "I'm glad we're not doing that particular scene this week. Not that it wouldn't have been fun trying to convince you to change your mind."

"I doubt Mr. Darcy would have been able to say anything to Elizabeth that would have made her accept him. Remember, at that point, he was the last man in the world she would ever marry."

Leaning closer, he dropped his voice to a whisper. "I'll bet he could have convinced her if he'd really tried. He just needed to turn on the charm. Don't forget that he was, first and foremost, a man, and a rich one at that. He was also used to getting his own way."

Jess was surprised by his theory. Didn't Sebastian understand his character at all? "Mr. Darcy was an honourable man. That's what made all the difference. That's why he is so well loved in the twenty-first century. It's a trait that's not found so often these days."

"Yes, he was honourable in many respects. He didn't lie or cheat, and he treated his tenants and servants fairly. But we're talking about his reaction to Elizabeth. The love of his life; the woman he'd been waiting months for. She arrives at his house, totally out of the blue. Even as they were sat in the parlour, making polite conversation or playing the piano, do you really think he wasn't imagining her in his room? In his bed?"

"He would never think such a thing. Mr. Darcy was a gentleman!"

Sebastian laughed. "He was also a human being, and not a robot. Have you never thought what else might have happened during those long walks to Oakham Mount and back? Don't forget, they lost Bingley and Jane, and only just returned in time for dinner. They were alone and unchaperoned all that time. What do you think they were doing? Do you really think they had that much to talk about?"

"Things were different in Jane Austen's time. Men weren't like that. You're looking at this through modern eyes."

"And you're being naïve. We're not talking about the Victorian age, with their laced-up propriety. Those Georgians were uninhibited, even by today's standards. It wasn't always the perfect, beautiful world portrayed in your period dramas."

At that moment Emily came to remind them it was time for lunch. Jess wasn't disappointed when they headed back down to the basement to rejoin the others.

The image Sebastian had painted of Mr. Darcy and his Elizabeth was too close to gritty reality, and many miles from the idyllic relationship she'd always imagined.



~<>~@~<>~



Chapter 14



As they lounged around the green room after lunch, Jess sensed a general lack of energy among their small group. Bubbles of conversation and laughter had accompanied previous mealtimes, but now the grey skies outside left everyone subdued, the silence broken only by occasional stilted questions and even briefer answers.

She wasn't sure what to say to Sebastian. She still couldn't bring herself to agree with his interpretation of Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship. Even if he'd never labelled Mr. Darcy as a gentleman, he'd still been playing the character exactly as she'd always imagined him.

Well, except for the kiss at the end of the final scene. She'd never pictured anything like that kiss when Elizabeth accepted his proposal.

Her gaze drifted back to Sebastian. With head bowed and shoulders hunched, his posture was the opposite of the way he held himself while playing the proud Mr. Darcy. Had the real Mr. Darcy picked up a bug from questionable mussels, he would've been hunched over and miserable as well. He must have been feeling awful all day. Maybe that was why his thoughts about Darcy and Elizabeth's relationship had sounded so cynical.

She moved closer, resting her hand on top of his. "How are you doing?"

"Okay now. I didn't have much of an appetite earlier, but my stomach seems to be calming down." He shared a tired smile as he sandwiched her smaller hand between his. "Just having you here makes me feel ten times better."

That smile made her melt a little inside. Despite the grey, dreary skies, nothing could dampen her feelings for him.

Mandy arrived in the doorway wearing a smile of her own, this time one of relief. "The weather forecast is much improved for this afternoon, and we have some visitors who've bought timed tickets to view the house. Can you be ready to start the afternoon session in ten minutes?"

Her question electrified the group, re-energising them where before there had been only lethargy. Finally, they would get to do the work they came here for; to entertain, and maybe educate those visitors who had not yet been captured by the charms of Miss Austen's works.

They made their way to the card room, located behind the entrance hall, and facing the garden at the back of the house. The wood panelled room was neither so highly decorated nor as comfortably furnished as some of the other parlours within Exley Hall. They'd moved the tables covered in green baize cloth to one side, providing a suitable space for Elizabeth and Aunt Gardiner to visit Georgiana and Miss Bingley at Pemberley.

A motley collection of colourful raincoats and umbrellas watched the scene unfold from behind the red rope as they observed the subtle nuances of early nineteenth-century society. Caroline Bingley's comments to Elizabeth that afternoon seemed particularly sharp and unfriendly. No doubt the gloomy weather had left them all feeling low, but Jess wasn't sorry to slip out of the card room when her part in the scene was complete.

She listened on the other side of the door as Ruth Swale continued to dwell on Miss Bennet's deficiencies for Mr. Darcy's benefit. Jess knew the criticisms were directed from one character to another, but Caroline's acidic comments seemed more personal than mere dialogue on a page. Apart from refusing to rise to Ruth's snide remarks about Sebastian that morning, Jess couldn't imagine what else she'd done to annoy her.

As the afternoon session progressed, the weather brightened and the waterproof coats were less prevalent among the audience. The penultimate scene would start in ten minutes, and Mrs Reynolds arrived outside the library door, fresh from wardrobe and ready to go.

Whenever Mrs Green stepped into the costume of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, she transformed her personality to match. Where Mrs Reynolds was a mixture of quiet confidence and the natural deference of a housekeeper, Lady Catherine exuded a brusque self-assurance and determined poise.

Jess wasn't ashamed to admit she was slightly in awe of Mrs Green in her guise as Mr. Darcy's aunt.

The clothes also helped. Mrs Reynolds wore a simple, practical dress of plain grey. Lady Catherine's iridescent purple coat dress was decorated with black braided frogging, like an old-fashioned army jacket, and her high hat included an even taller feather. It allowed her to loom over Miss Elizabeth Bennet as they performed.

"You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace and your name will never even be mentioned by any of us!" Lady Catherine spat across the room, her anger in full flow.

"These are heavy misfortunes indeed," Elizabeth responded with an unruffled calm, "but the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness attached to her situation that she could have no cause to repine."

Mrs Green's pinched expression reflected her character's cantankerous mood. "Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score? I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose, and I will not be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims, and I am not in the habit of brooking disappointment."

Jessica tried not to smile, but it was hard when she enjoyed putting the older character in her place. "That will make your ladyship's situation at present more pitiable, but it will have no effect on me."

Mrs Green circled Jess, her clawed hand extended to emphasise her anger, as though she wanted to throttle the young woman standing in front of her. "My daughter and my nephew were formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the father's, from respectable, honourable, and ancient families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune? Is this to be endured? If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up."

Lady Catherine's words triggered something in Jess's memory. Did Ruth think she was unworthy of Sebastian's attention? Or did she just want him for herself? "In marrying your nephew, I should not consider myself as quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman, and I am a gentleman's daughter; so far we are equal."

"True. You are a gentleman's daughter. But who was your mother? Who are your uncles and aunts? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition."

No one at Exley Hall was aware of Jess's family connections, although if she'd mentioned her uncle and aunt, Jess felt sure that at least one of the older cast members would know them. British theatre was home to a small, somewhat insular community, after all. "Whatever my connections may be, if your nephew does not object to them, they can be nothing to you."

Lady Catherine stood tall, her purple feather quivering with indignation as she stabbed a demanding finger towards Miss Bennet. "Tell me once and for all, are you engaged to him?''

Jess paused, the beat hinting at Elizabeth's deliberation before she sighed, allowing her shoulders to relax. "I am not."

Although Mrs Green didn't smile, she exuded a dry satisfaction and even a small amount of relief. "And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?"

She drew in a breath and raised a determined chin to look Lady Catherine straight in the eye. "I will make no promise of the kind."

"Miss Bennet, I am shocked and astonished! I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. Do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will retreat. I shall not go away till you have given me the assurance I require."

Elizabeth smiled, relishing the opportunity to deny the older woman what she most wanted. "And I certainly shall never give it. I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Your ladyship wants Mr. Darcy to marry your daughter, but would my giving you the wished-for promise make their marriage at all more probable? Supposing him to be attached to me, would my refusing to accept his hand make him wish to bestow it on his cousin?

"Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, that the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary application have been as frivolous as the application was ill-judged. You have widely mistaken my character if you think I can be worked on by such persuasions as these. How far your nephew might approve of your interference in his affairs, I cannot tell, but you have certainly no right to concern yourself in mine. I must beg, therefore, to be importuned no farther on the subject."

As the scene ended, the audience clapped and whistled as Lady Catherine took a well-deserved bow. Jess left the library in a determined mood. She refused to be intimidated by some stuck-up, jealous hag who thought she wasn't good enough for Sebastian.

Ruth Swale might want Sebastian for herself, but wanting something and getting it were two very different things. Sebastian had his own mind after all, and he'd already made clear where his preference lay.


~~~~~


After changing out of her costume at the end of the day, Jess met Sebastian in the hallway, still attired as Mr. Darcy. His formal tailcoat and frilly white shirt made an odd contrast to her t-shirt and jeans but didn't bother him one bit.

"Ah, there you are. I was wondering where you'd gone." His hand slid around her waist to pull her close. "We're not working now, are we?"

Jess studied one of the large gold buttons on his coat. Technically they were done for the day. "No, not at the moment, although you really ought to get changed first."

"I don't always do what I ought," he said, his voice almost a whisper as he raised her chin, the better to look at her. Sebastian leaned closer until his forehead touched hers. "So beautiful," he murmured, as though half to himself.

Jess smiled. She'd been smiling a lot since her arrival in Derbyshire. It was very easy to be happy when Sebastian was around. He had the knack of making her feel like she was the only woman in the world.

He traced the curl of her ear with his finger, his hand sliding to her cheek as he captured her lips. Sebastian's kiss was gentle; nothing like the stage kiss they performed at the end of the final scene. It made her feel special.

Sebastian pulled back, but not far. He hovered above her as he gazed into her eyes. Then he smiled, a genuine warm smile that lit up his dark brown eyes. "What would you like to do tonight?"

"After the weather we've had today, a walk in the garden is off the cards."

He laughed. "Yes, you're probably right."

"You go and get changed, and I'll meet you in the green room. There's bound to be something interesting on T.V."

He dropped a quick kiss against the corner of her mouth. "And if there isn't, I'm sure we can find something else to occupy our time." He bowed, his innate Darcy-ness never far beneath the surface while he was in costume. "Your servant, Miss Bennet."

Jess curtsied, a movement that felt strangely out of place while wearing jeans. "I'll be waiting," she reminded him.

She continued down the corridor, her footsteps echoing on the tiled floor. When she arrived at the servant's hall the large room was empty. Sinking into one of the armchairs, Jessica tucked her feet underneath her. Laura's battered copy of Pride and Prejudice lay open on the small table. She lifted it up, careful not to lose the page as she checked which chapter Laura had read up to.

It was earlier in the book, as Elizabeth was reading Mr. Darcy's letter in Kent. The letter was one of Jess's favourite chapters, marking the point where Elizabeth Bennet learned for the first time that Wickham's description of the Darcys hadn't been entirely honest. Engrossed in the words on the page, Jessica didn't realise that Caroline had arrived until her shadow fell over the book.

"A great reader as well, Eliza? I think you're more like your character than you think."

"There must always be some similarities," Jess said, without enthusiasm.

Caroline dropped into the chair next to her and leaned closer, lowering her voice. "If you enjoy stories, I could tell you one that would make your toes curl."

Jess sighed, pitying such an obvious and clumsy effort at manipulation. "I'm a little old to be frightened by horror stories, don't you think?"

They sat for a moment in silence, as Caroline glanced around the room. "It's all very strange, seeing you with Sebastian. You aren't his usual type at all."

Jess wondered what his usual type of woman was, but she would rather eat her socks than show even the slightest spark of interest in what Miss Bingley had to say. "Perhaps you don't know him as well as you think you do."

Ruth frowned. "I know him better than most. Aren't you even a little bit curious?"

"What about?"

"What sort of female normally catches Sebastian's eye."

"Why should I care? The women in his past are nothing to do with me."

She flicked her perfectly manicured fingernails, "I'm only trying to help. I'm sure you could find someone more your equal. A man you might have more in common with."

Her false solicitude did nothing to hide the jealousy that oozed beneath the surface. Caroline wanted her out of the way, and her reason was obvious. "So you can claim Sebastian for yourself?"

Ruth laughed, a bitter crack of noise in an otherwise silent space. "I was there before you, my dear. Sebastian and I are old friends."

If her revelation was intended to upset Jess, it didn't work. Caroline had draped herself all over him on their first day at Exley Hall, in some desperate attempt to reclaim a prior relationship. Jess also remembered his conversation at the beginning of the week about the women forcing their attention on him.

If he'd been talking about Ruth Swale that would explain a lot. <