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 had 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.