This morning had been a leisurely start, with Emma greeting us warmly over breakfast like old friends. We were then ushered through to the red drawing room for a seminar with Professor Stafford about Austen and life in a great house.
The talk is an hour or so and very interesting. It feels so much more real somehow being in an actual stately home where, if not Jane Austen, certainly other Regency women would have lived out this lifestyle. In fact, I get a kind of buzz thinking that Jane Austen, like me, would have visited this house as an outsider, an interloper, but she could at least dip in and sample its delights, even if she had to return to the real world, in her case, of genteel poverty and spinsterhood, and reliance on her male relations, and in my case, a rubbish job in sales, an overbearing mother, and a string of hopelessly failed romances, if you could even call them that.
We all have lunch in the great dining hall; haricot mutton, which was apparently one of the dishes served at the dinner table in Regency days. It’s actually very pleasant. Emma eats with us and we fill her in on recent events.
‘It sounds as though The Jane Austen Dating Agency is providing some mixed results,’ she says pensively.
‘I’m very happy with it.’ Izzy smiles shyly. ‘I wouldn’t have met Matthew if it hadn’t been for the agency and he’s so kind to me. I can’t imagine life without him now.’
‘That’s true,’ Emma says, smiling at Izzy’s naïve happiness, ‘and there’s Mel and Rob.’ She’s met with an awkward silence at this.
‘This seminar is lovely, we’re all really enjoying it,’ Maria says reassuringly.
‘Definitely,’ I add, ‘and I can’t wait to wander around this afternoon.’
The door to the dining room opens and a windswept Charles blunders in. ‘Sorry I’m late,’ he says breathlessly.
Maria looks up, sees him and quickly looks down again, blushing.
Emma, noticing their awkwardness, jumps to her feet and pulls up a chair for Charles opposite Maria with the grace of a true hostess. ‘That’s okay, Charles. You’re very welcome, you did say you might be late.’ Emma passes him a plate.
‘Journey up was terrible,’ he grumbles, helping himself liberally to new potatoes, mutton and haricot beans.
‘Oh, did you drive then?’ I ask, to cover the awkward silences.
Maria seems to have buried her head in her dinner and is not looking up.
‘Yes, I did.’ He glances at Maria. ‘It was kind of a last-minute decision. Matthew’s with me too, he’s stopped off at our B & B to sort out arrangements.’
Izzy looks up with delight. ‘Oh, he’s here already?’ she squeaks. ‘He said he wouldn’t get here till this evening.’
‘I expect he wanted to surprise you,’ I say, smiling.
After lunch, we all decide to wander through the house, Izzy and Matthew going on ahead, arm in arm so they are very much on their own. Maria and I follow at a discreet distance, and I can’t help but think about the Regency Ball. Although there are about thirty people on the course, they’ve all dispersed, and Chatsworth is so vast, it feels as though we have it all to ourselves. This huge silent staring house is a stark contrast to the floodlit shimmering splendour of the ball at Pemberley, crammed with people in elegant dresses and hustle and bustle.
‘I think you could rattle about living somewhere like this,’ I whisper. ‘It’s almost unnatural how quiet and echoey it is.’
‘I suppose you get used to it, and of course they would have had lots of servants,’ Maria says.
‘Maria, Sophie, wait up!’ We turn to see Charles jogging after us and stop for him to approach. Maria looks instantly uncertain.
‘Maria, I wanted to talk to you,’ he says shyly. ‘If that’s okay with you, Sophie?’
‘Of course. I want to go and check out the Sculpture Room anyway,’ I say hurriedly. I definitely don’t want to get in the way of this. I wonder what Charles has to say. Maria is such a lovely person and they were obviously destined to be together, until Sir Henry got involved.
‘Sophie.’ Maria grabs my arm.’ You don’t have to go, we’ll walk with you.’
‘No,’ I say firmly, ‘I’d like some chill-out time on my own if you don’t mind.’ I walk determinedly away. I’m telling the truth; I actually feel like I do need some time on my own. All these couples and the talk of romance and relationships this morning, it’s made me realise and maybe see things a little more in perspective.
At least it’s not like in Jane Austen’s day, I don’t need to find a husband or partner as my only choice of a career. I can do anything, anything I choose. And suddenly the day becomes brighter, and I enter the Sculpture Room happier and ready to be impressed in a sort of calm soulful way.
Nothing could have prepared me for the wonder of this place, it’s simply beautiful. The sun shines down through the glass roof and onto the dazzling white marble. The enormous white statues are life-size, almost like a scene from Narnia but not creepy or deteriorated, just beautiful, smooth Italianate. I move soundlessly from one to the next, gazing at their simple beauty. These sculptures have captured expression and mood so beautifully and I’m transfixed. In my head, I wonder about the story behind each figure, who made them, what they were feeling.
I gaze, lost in thought, when suddenly I hear a noise and before I can quite register who or what it might be, Darcy comes into view and walks towards me.
‘Darcy!’ I mutter, feeling foolish, not knowing how long he’s been here. I hope he didn’t think I was weird standing there gawping at statues. Not that I care, because I don’t like him anyway.
‘Sophie,’ he says. ‘All alone?’
‘Yes, I thought I’d take a stroll for a moment to get some headspace. You know, it’s all been a bit hectic.’ I stop, realising I’m burbling.
‘Oh right,’ he says, and there’s silence again. He’s looking at me with those deep brown eyes and I can’t cope with it, he’s too intense, it’s making my heart race and my legs feel like someone else’s. Not a good sign. Sophie, get a grip, girl.
‘These are very… impressive.’ I sweep an arm vaguely in the direction of the nearby sculptures.
Darcy follows my arm with his eyes. Unfortunately I’m gesturing at a prostrate figure of a naked man, who is quite frankly extremely well endowed.
‘Very…’ Darcy says seriously, his eyes meeting mine once more and I could swear his mouth curves up slightly at one corner. The tension, the atmosphere between us, is electric, it practically crackles. It’s as though everything else has disappeared and there’s no-one in existence but us. I’m mesmerised by him but…
‘I… I think I should continue my walk, otherwise I’ll be late for this afternoon’s seminars.’ I awkwardly break the silence and move away slightly.
‘Good idea. Why don’t I walk with you?’ he suggests and we wander together past more statues.
‘I didn’t think this would be your kind of thing,’ I say blithely.
‘What, Chatsworth, or the seminar?’ he asks with a smile.
‘Both, I guess. I didn’t think you would be interested in either Regency romance or old stately homes.’