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 neckcloth 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.