A Weekend with Mr. Darcy Read Online Free Page A

under the table during lessons, the secret kisses in the corridor on the way to class, and the little love notes that were constantly being confiscated by infuriated teachers. Where had all that love gone? Had it not been strong enough to leap the gulf between adolescence and adulthood? Had it been left behind with homework, teenage mood swings, and compulsory PE?
    â€˜I’d better get moving,’ Robyn told Judith, shaking the images of the past from her mind. ‘Jace’ll be here in an hour, and I want to get packed before then.’
    â€˜Well, don’t you go worrying about this lot,’ Judith said, nodding towards the chickens. ‘They’ll be fine.’
    â€˜Thanks,’ Robyn said with a smile before heading indoors.
    The terraced cottage was cool and dark after the brightness of the garden, and Robyn headed upstairs to her bedroom at the front of the house. Packing was simple—as many dresses and books as she could fit in her suitcase. She never liked to go anywhere without a copy of one of Jane Austen’s big six. Persuasion was usually a favourite because it was slim and easily slipped into a handbag but Pride and Prejudice was her preferred choice if room permitted because it never failed to raise a smile, whether she happened to be waiting for a train that was more than an hour late or sitting in the dentist’s office knowing that the drill was awaiting.
    She sighed with pleasure as she placed a copy of each of the novels in her case. Well, she couldn’t go to a Jane Austen Conference without one of each, could she? She’d chosen her oldest versions that didn’t mind being beaten up a bit in transit. There was the copy of Sense and Sensibility with the coffee stain over the scene where Willoughby scoops Marianne up in his arms, and the edition of Emma that had taken a tumble into the bath and was now the shape of an accordion.
    Her newer copies of the books were downstairs, their covers shiny and pristine and the spines only faintly cracked. Nothing was more perfect to Robyn than a brand-new copy of an Austen novel.
    â€˜Rob!’ a voice called from downstairs.
    â€˜Jace?’ Robyn said in surprise.
    â€˜Well, of course it’s Jace!’
    Robyn’s mouth screwed up in frustration. He was early.
    Leaving her packing, she ventured downstairs and was surprised to see that Jace had been doing some packing of his own.
    â€˜What’s that?’ she asked.
    â€˜A suitcase, dopey,’ he said, dropping it to the floor and ruffling her hair before grazing her cheek with a stubbly kiss. ‘I’m coming with you.’
    â€˜What?’ she asked, following him through to the living room as he settled himself on the sofa, kicking off his shoes and putting his feet up on the coffee table.
    â€˜I’m coming with you,’ he said, giving a loud sniff. ‘Going to drive you down to Hereford.’
    â€˜Hampshire,’ Robyn said.
    â€˜Can’t have you getting the train on your own, can I?’
    â€˜But I’ve got my ticket.’
    â€˜Doesn’t matter,’ he said.
    â€˜But Jace—it’s such a long way, and it sounds as if you don’t even know where Hampshire is.’
    â€˜I’m making a weekend of it. Booked a B and B just down the road from your Parley Hall place.’
    â€˜Purley Hall.’
    â€˜That’s it!’
    Robyn frowned. This was the last thing she expected and the very last thing she wanted. The Jane Austen weekend was her own special sanctuary, and Jace was the last person she wanted to share it with.
    â€˜It’s really not your sort of thing at all,’ she told him. ‘And I doubt there’s room for you at the conference. All the places are booked.’
    â€˜I’m not coming to the conference, silly! No way!’
    â€˜Then what are you going to do?’
    He shrugged as he picked up the remote control and switched on the TV. ‘Just hang