At Home with Mr Darcy Read Free

assures me I’ll need them for the Derbyshire countryside but I ask you, Higgins, do they really go with my dresses? I just can’t see myself wearing them somehow.’
    ‘One wouldn’t like to twist one’s ankle,’ he said.
    ‘No, I suppose not but that’s exactly how Marianne Dashwood met the delectable Mr Willoughby.’
    ‘Didn’t that end badly?’ Higgins asked, folding a silk blouse and placing it carefully into the suitcase. He hadn’t ever admitted to reading or watching any Jane Austen but, having lived and worked with Dame Pamela for so many years, it had been impossible not to pick up a certain amount of knowledge.
    ‘Yes but she had such fun before all the heartache,’ Dame Pamela said. ‘Ladies do like the occasional rogue.’
    Higgins shook his head. He would never understand the female heart.
    ‘Maybe I could get away with a nice pair of canvas plimsolls,’ Dame Pamela said a minute later. ‘They’d certainly look more lady-like.’
    ‘I think that would be a mistake, madam. I really think you should take the boots,’ Higgins insisted.
    ‘But just look at the colour! How very drab they are. Couldn’t they make them in a more inspiring colour like pink or blue?’ She shook her head. ‘I suppose I’ll just have to suffer in silence.’
    Higgins cleared his throat. He’d never known his mistress to suffer in silence – it just wasn’t in her make-up.
    ‘And what will you do, Higgins, whilst I’m away?’ she asked him.
    ‘The silver needs polishing again,’ he said, ‘and I shall oversee the bookbinder when she arrives.’
    ‘Of course,’ Dame Pamela said, ‘and I want you present when she handles our first edition of Pride and Prejudice .’
    ‘Indeed, madam.’
    Dame Pamela nodded. She had recently bought a rare first edition of Jane Austen’s most famous novel at auction for the best part of two hundred thousand pounds. It was a purchase that had shocked even the most ardent Janeite but Dame Pamela hadn’t been able to resist. After all, what was money for if not to be extravagant once in a while?
    ‘I do hate leaving Purley but I’m so looking forward to this trip. I think it’s going to be a resounding success, don’t you?’
    ‘Very likely, madam,’ Higgins said.
    ‘Just like the weddings.’ She clasped her hands to her primrose-clad bosom. ‘I can’t believe that we’ve had five weddings here since Katherine and Warwick’s. Word has certainly spread although I have to say I wasn’t at all enamoured by that bride who wore that strapless, sleeveless gown. I thought she was going to spill right out of it when she bent over to cuddle that little bridesmaid. Honestly, I really must vet what brides are going to wear in the future. Purley has standards, after all.’
    Higgins didn’t say anything but he had blushed a deep crimson.
     
    It was a bright summer’s morning when the little white minibus pulled up outside Purley Hall. Dame Pamela refused point-blank to call it a minibus, however, because that was such an undignified name. In her books, it was a coach.
    ‘Ah, Robyn,’ she said, peering out of her study window. ‘Do go and greet the driver, won’t you? His name’s Paul something or other.’
    ‘Allsop,’ Robyn said. ‘Mr Allsop.’
    Dame Pamela wasn’t listening. She was rummaging through some of her coach spiel notes which were littering her desk. She was taking her role as a tour guide very seriously indeed.
    Robyn walked down the great staircase and crossed the grand hallway, opening the front door to greet Mr Allsop who was standing scratching his head, neck craned up as he took in the house.
    ‘Blimey!’ he said. ‘I never knew this was here.’
    ‘Hello, Mr Allsop,’ Robyn said, extending her hand to shake his. He was a small, thin man with a narrow face containing brilliant red cheeks and a pair of the brightest eyes Robyn had ever seen.
    ‘You Dame Pamela, then?’ he asked.
    ‘Gracious, no,’ Robyn said. ‘I’m Robyn – her