A Weekend with Mr Darcy: The perfect summer read for Austen addicts!. Victoria Connelly

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A Weekend with Mr Darcy: The perfect summer read for Austen addicts! - Victoria  Connelly

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sure that she hadn’t shut herself away in her room for the rest of the evening. And who could blame her? After the awful scene in the dining room, it would be a wonder if Robyn showed her face again at all that weekend. Poor Robyn. It wasn’t her fault. As Katherine chose a seat in the library, she couldn’t help wondering what Robyn’s story was. The man she’d called Jace didn’t seem at all suited to her and it puzzled Katherine why she was with somebody like that. But then, who can know what goes on in the heart of another person and what may attract one to another? Katherine had enough problems working out the complexities of her own heart and wondering what it was she was looking for and if it truly existed or not.

      Ever since she could remember, she’d been searching for a hero who could sweep her away. Before she’d discovered Jane Austen, there’d been Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. As a doctor of literature at Oxford, she should surely frown upon such portrayals of women but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted a hero. Didn’t every woman? Even the tight-lipped Professor Ann Marlowe whom she’d worked alongside for years with her severe haircut and her feminist ways - surely even she wouldn’t turn down Captain Wentworth or Colonel Brandon if they came riding across the quad at St Bridget’s College, professing undying love for her?

      Katherine sighed. The human heart was so complex and a love of romantic fiction just confused things even more.

      Just as the lights were being switched off, Katherine became aware of a presence by her side and looked up into the face of the suitcase-wielding gentleman only, luckily for her, he was now without his weapon of choice.

      ‘Is this seat taken?’ he asked, his voice low, almost shy.

      Katherine shook her head, not wanting to add any words of encouragement or to maintain eye-contact despite the fact that he was rather handsome. She hadn’t noticed that when he’d been running her over with Mrs Soames’s suitcase but his dark hair and bright eyes were very attractive and he had a very cute smile too.

      ‘I couldn’t make my mind up which film to see,’ the man said.

      Katherine’s eyes remained fixed on the television as the sad yet serene face of Sally Hawkins looked out at the audience with clear, all-seeing eyes.

      ‘I mean, Persuasion is excellent but Sense and Sensibility is such a great film too.’ Katherine shifted in her chair.

      ‘A wonderful script,’ he said. ‘One of the best adaptations of a book ever.’

      ‘Shush!’ a woman said from a chair behind them.

      ‘And the young Kate Winslet, of course,’ he added.

      ‘Young man!’ the woman from behind them protested. ‘Will you stop talking?’

      ‘Sorry,’ the man said.

      Katherine allowed herself a very small smile. A young Kate Winslet indeed!

      It was strange but, no matter how many times Katherine read the novel or saw the adaptations, Anne and Wentworth’s story of young love rediscovered never failed to move her. It was, perhaps, Austen’s slowest story in terms of action but there was a beauty about its simple structure and its sublimely gentle narration. Anne was one of the most sympathetic heroines in literature because she had made a mistake when young that had almost cost her her life’s happiness.

      Perhaps that’s why Austen’s books were so popular, Katherine mused - because her heroines made the most terrible mistakes: they either fell for the bad boys or turned the good ones away. They were real, flawed but forgivable girls who had a lot of growing up to do and readers loved them because they were them.

      Which one of us hasn’t made a hash of our lives at one time or other? Katherine thought, daring to think about her own doomed relationship with David. The only difference was, Katherine wasn’t a fictional character in a novel and Jane Austen wasn’t around to ensure her a happy ending.

      ‘Ah, a happy ending,’ the man next to her said.

      Katherine jolted out of her private daydream, irrationally thinking that the dark-haired man had somehow read her thoughts.

      ‘There’s nothing quite like a happy ending, don’t you think?’ he said.

      ‘Exactly,’ Katherine said, getting up from her chair. ‘It leaves one feeling so…’ She paused.

      ‘Satisfied?’ the man suggested.

      ‘Inadequate,’ Katherine said.

      The man looked bemused a moment but then, getting up from his chair as the lights were switched on, he held out his hand to shake hers. ‘I’m Warwick,’ he said. ‘And I can personally guarantee a happy ending if you befriend me.’

      It was Katherine’s turn to look bemused and she did it beautifully, raising a dark eyebrow whilst fixing him with a stern look.

      ‘Really?’

      ‘Absolutely,’ he said with a smile that was really quite attractive.

      Katherine looked at him for a moment, his hand still extended towards her. He was, she had to admit, rather handsome. He had thick dark hair, clear hazel eyes and a smile that was part charm and part dare. What the heck? Katherine thought. What harm can there be befriending him? After all, it was only for the space of the weekend. If he was completely mad - and she hadn’t ruled that out yet - she need never see him or hear from him again. So, she extended her hand, placed it in his and shook.

      ‘Warwick?’ she said.

      ‘You’re called Warwick too?’ he said with a grin.

      She smiled. ‘I’m Katherine. Katherine Roberts.’

      ‘And you’re speaking on Sunday?’

      ‘I am.’

      ‘And I’m looking forward to it,’ he said.

      They walked slowly towards the library door together and then, reaching it, stopped.

      ‘Well, it was very nice to meet you, Warwick,’ Katherine said, giving him a brief smile before heading towards the stairs before he had the chance to say another word.

      Warwick was totally stunned. She’d just walked away -casually and coolly walked away from him - as if he was of no further use to her.

      But look on the bright side, he told himself. He’d made contact. He now officially knew her name and she knew his. They’d even exchanged a few words.

      But that was it, he said to himself. What had gone wrong this time? Was she just totally unimpressed by him and didn’t want to engage in further conversation? Had she found him so dull and unamusing?

      Warwick sighed. How odd it had been to sit in the dark with her for the entire length of the film. It had been a strange sort of agony because he knew this woman and yet he couldn’t talk to her. And he so wanted to talk to her! They got on. If only she knew it and gave him a chance but she hadn’t. She’d dismissed him as an uninteresting nobody.

      So what was he going to do now? He couldn’t let her slip away from

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