I was worried before we came that we might be the only people there, but actually it’s quite busy. There’s a mix of ages and personalities, which surprises me as I had stupidly assumed it would all be young people. I notice Miss Palmer-Wright is in the corner, chatting mechanically to a group of rather superior-looking, but slightly older, clients. She’s obviously on full charm offensive.
I glance idly across the room, then freeze at the sight of a horribly familiar, overly smart young man who is chatting rather awkwardly to an elegant lady with a chignon. It’s none other than Dean.
‘Mel,’ I hiss, jogging her elbow, making her spill her champagne. ‘Oh my God, look who it is.’
‘What, who?’ Mel was deep in the middle of a conversation with Chloe about her Twitter account and is obviously annoyed at my bizarre antics.
‘Look over there,’ I hiss again.
She follows my frantic gaze. ‘Oh God no, not Dean. What’s he doing here?’ She glares at me. ‘You didn’t tell him you were coming?’
‘Of course not, I’m not that stupid… though I might have given him the number for the agency,’ I confess sheepishly.
‘Why the hell would you do that?’
‘Shhh,’ Chloe says. People are staring. ‘I don’t think a Regency soiree is the place to start a scene.’
I ignore her. ‘I may have sent him the number of the agency out of the kindness of my heart, in the hope he might find someone else to stalk,’ I say casually. I glance across at Dean again. He doesn’t seem to have noticed me yet, thank goodness.
‘That’s it, we’ll have to leave before he sees us,’ Mel states categorically.
‘I’m not doing that after all this effort. He might not recognise me anyway.’
We’re still whispering about the situation when an attractive young woman sweeps confidently into our midst.
‘You must be Sophie Johnson and guests,’ she says, smiling. ‘I’m Emma Woodtree. I don’t think we have had the pleasure of meeting but how do you do?’
Emma Woodtree is tall, blonde and willowy but not in the aggressive food-restraining gym-obsessed way of Miss Palmer-Wright. Emma looks naturally slim. She has a lovely rose complexion and the relaxed and confident air of one of those people who have always had money and never known the disappointment or constraints of not having enough. In spite of this, I really like her, she’s warm and friendly and the complete opposite of Miss PW in manner. I smile and introduce Mel and Chloe.
‘Have you had some canapés?’ Emma asks, offering us a plate of yummy-looking delicacies, which are actually as delicious as they look. Before we have time to finish our mouthfuls, she grabs an amiable-looking man who is walking past. ‘Nick, have you met these charming ladies – all ardent Austen fans?’
I spot Mel backing away as though to prove she is not into Austen at all, but Chloe appears as though she can overlook this minor detail for once.
‘Come on, I must introduce you,’ continues Emma. ‘Sophie, Mel and Chloe, this is Nick Palmer-Wright.’
I start suddenly, managing to spill champagne all down my front. ‘Allow me,’ says Nick, chivalrously grabbing a napkin from a nearby table and passing it to me to dab my top.
‘Oh thanks.’ I can’t believe it, I’m so clumsy. ‘Thanks so much. Er, Nick, can I ask, are you related to Jessica Palmer-Wright?’
‘Just a bit.’ Nick grins. ‘She’s my sister, though we’re not really that similar. She’s a little more full-on than me.’
You bet she is, I think, but instead smile politely if somewhat enigmatically.
‘So, are you involved in the agency?’ Chloe asks.
‘Gosh no. I’m here to support my sister, but Austen’s not really my thing. In fact, I don’t really read that much at all, although I’m not sure she does either. No, I have my own company left to me by my late father, and Jess persuaded me to get involved with the agency as an investment. Surprising really as she was never into literature…’
Don’t I know it, I think, smiling to myself.
‘But it seems to be a success, largely due to Jess’s endless social contacts and Emma’s hard work and attention to detail. Jess and Emma went to school together.’
‘Are you a big Austen fan then?’ I turn to Emma hopefully.
‘Oh yes,’ she enthuses. ‘I love all her writing, I’ve read every book over and over, and watched the movie versions several times each.’
‘Me too.’ I laugh. ‘And if I ever feel a bit fed up or ill, I curl up on the sofa and watch a DVD of Pride and Prejudice or Sense and Sensibility and it’s better than any medicine.’
‘I know. I was at boarding school and used to read the novels to take my mind off how homesick I was.’
‘And now it’s your job! Lucky you!’
‘Well, yes.’ Emma smiles. ‘Though like all jobs it has its ups and downs.’
At that moment, Jessica Palmer-Wright’s tinkly laugh filters across the room and for a second, Emma looks a little irritated before she recollects herself, adding hurriedly, ‘But most of it is lovely. Anyway, enough about me. What do you do? Talking of lucky, I hear you work for the very glamorous Modiste Magazine?’
‘It’s not quite what you might imagine.’ I launch into the rather ridiculous reality of my position at Modiste, causing Emma to go off into fits of laughter. She’s so nice and we both seem to have the same sense of humour. It’s strange how with some people you can feel as though you’ve known them forever, even if you’ve only just met, yet others you may have known for years but it’s as though you hardly know them at all.
I’m in the middle of an interesting conversation with Emma about her favourite Austen novel when I become aware of someone’s steady gaze burning into my back from across the room. I look round to see if I’m imagining things and catch Darcy staring at me. He looks away immediately and I continue to chat to Emma.
I still can’t escape the feeling I’m being watched and look round again. I become aware of Darcy’s disconcerting gaze once more. Has no-one told him it’s rude to stare? The real Mr Darcy might have got away with lovelorn looks at Lizzie, but Darcy Drummond is obviously totally glaring. Probably because he can see a deluded Jane Austen fan on the loose and he’s annoyed I’m here, especially as he’s made it pretty clear I’m one of the agency’s least desirable clientele.
Finally, Emma excuses herself to go and mingle with the other guests, leaving me with Mel. Chloe is still deep in conversation with Nick. I think they’ve found some mutual old school acquaintance and are getting on really well. He’s just what Chloe needs to get her confidence back; she lives like a recluse under Kian’s control. Glancing across the room again, Darcy’s moved slightly to get a drink but I still think he’s looking at me rather a lot. Perhaps I’ve become paranoid.
‘I’m sure Darcy keeps staring at me,’ I huff to Mel.
‘Ooh, is that him?’ she asks, trying to peer inconspicuously at Darcy from behind my shoulder. ‘Hmmm, handsome and rich, straight in my basket. He doesn’t look intimidating to me, maybe a bit awkward. Looking at his body language, I’m not quite sure this is his usual crowd.’