Mr. Darcy Broke My Heart (26 page)

She wore a heavy cardigan over another flowered dress and carried a black umbrella that looked to have weathered a number of storms.

“Harriet called and asked that I meet you here, but she wouldn’t say why.” The older woman held herself stiffly, as if bracing for bad news. “Although perhaps I can guess. She’s given you the manuscript, hasn’t she?”

I slipped my purse from my shoulder and reached inside. Harriet had tied the pages together with another piece of ribbon, lavender this time. “Yes. She gave it to me.” I held it front of me, testing the weight of it in my hands.

Mrs. Parrot’s shoulders sank. “I had hoped—” She broke off in midsentence, as if overcome, but then she took a deep breath and straightened her spine. “I have no choice except to respect Harriet’s wishes, but if there is any way I can persuade you to reconsider.” She shook her head. “But you know the value of the manuscript, of course. I am sure your friend, Mr. Beaufort, will be happy to help you squeeze every shilling from it.”

“Mrs. Parrot—”

“You need not say anything else.” She tucked her umbrella under her arm, as if sheathing a sword. “Although I would ask you, please, not to say anything of the Formidables. Allow the manuscript to be enough.”

“But, Mrs. Parrot—”

“The hunt will be on, of course, once this turns up, for all things Austen. We will need to redouble our efforts.” She pinned me with her gaze. “I hope it will be worth it. At least reassure me you will see to Harriet’s comfort with the proceeds.”

“Mrs. Parrot, please.” I held up my free hand. “If you would let me get a word in edgewise…”

Her jaw dropped. “Edgewise? My good woman—”

“I’m giving you the manuscript,” I blurted out. “Harriet asked me what she should do, and I told her she should give you the manuscript.”

“What?” She looked as if I’d just struck her.

“She wants the Formidables to have it. I told her that it was the right thing to do.”

I had expected Mrs. Parrot to receive the news with some joy. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and stared me down.

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” I said. She apparently had never heard the saying about gift horses and not looking them in the mouth.

“Why did you advise Harriet to give the manuscript to us?”

I paused. “I didn’t know very much about Jane Austen before I came to Oxford.” I glanced around me. “Nothing, really, beyond
Pride and Prejudice
and some movie versions of her other books. I thought she just wrote some love stories, and that was pretty much it.”

“And now?” Mrs. Parrot’s eyebrows rose.

“I know her better. Not as much as you, or as some of these people.” I waved a hand to indicate the people who were now moving through the courtyard. “I may never be a true scholar. But I think I’ve learned enough to know the most important thing about her.”

“And what would that be?” Mrs. Parrot still looked skeptical.

“I think I have to trust that Austen knew her own mind as well as her heart. If she had wanted
First Impressions
to be public, she wouldn’t have given it to Cassandra to destroy along with her letters. I think she wanted to give Mr. Darcy a chance to redeem himself. Or at least give herself a chance to redeem him.”

“You don’t think the world has a right to know of its existence?” She waved a hand at the manuscript.

I shrugged. “A right to know? Maybe. Or maybe not.” I looked at her, struggling to find the words for what I was trying to say. “All I know is that you’re the only one besides Harriet who didn’t want to make a profit off of it. You’re the only one who wanted to treasure it.” I handed her the ribbon-wrapped pages. “You’ve been at this a lot longer than I have. Maybe someday you’ll decide that it needs to be made known to the world. But for now, it’s your secret to keep.”

She took the manuscript from me, and I felt the loss of its weight more in my heart than in my hands. I also felt, at that moment, the strangest sense of connection with Jane Austen, as
if I’d had at least a glimpse of what it must have been like when she herself turned over her letters and papers to her sister. I’d known she died at a young age, but until that moment, I hadn’t realized how significant that fact was. She had been a woman in her prime, maybe ten years older than I was at that moment, struck down by illness, forced to rely on others to protect her privacy. She had known what she wanted her legacy to be and had acted accordingly, but the fate of her work hadn’t been in her hands alone.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Parrot said, and I could see the glimmer of tears in her eyes. She might be a Formidable, but she was a Formidable with a heart. “We will take good care of it.”

“I know.” And I did. And in that moment I also knew that since the death of my parents, I had acted as a sort of Formidable in my own right. I had done my best to protect my parents’ legacy, to shelter Missy from the fallout of their deaths, and to keep our family together. But now it was time to let go. Perhaps I had more in common with Jane Austen than I would have ever guessed.

“Good-bye.” I didn’t offer her my hand, since hers were occupied with the manuscript.

“Good-bye, Miss Prescott.” She nodded regally. “I hope you have a safe journey home.”

“Thank you. You too,” I said, and then I turned and walked away, knowing that Harriet would be pleased and that I had finally done the right thing.

I was waiting outside Tom Tower for my taxi when I saw Martin coming down St. Aldate’s.

“Claire. I had hoped to see you again before you left.” He smiled and reached for my hand. “I will miss you.”

“Me too.” I stepped forward and gave him an impulsive hug. “So much has happened.” I trailed off, not sure how much to say. “I just want to thank you for your help.”

“Ah, yes, the mysterious pages.” His eyes twinkled in their usual way.

“And what you said in the seminar yesterday too. About Jane Austen. It really helped.”

He smiled. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me the truth about those pages.”

I smiled, too, but shook my head. “You were the one who said Oxford was full of secrets.”

He laughed. “Yes, but I didn’t mean that you should keep them from me.” He took my hand in his. “I wish you all the best, Claire.”

“And I wish the same for you.” I squeezed his hand. “You know, there ’s something else I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“Yes?”

“I guess I was just wondering why you would come to a seminar like this. James said you were one of the leading Austen scholars in the world. Why hang out with a bunch of amateurs?”

He released my hand. “Do you know what the word
amateur
means? Literally?”

I shook my head.

“It means
one who loves.”

“One who loves?”

“I came here to be with people who read Jane Austen simply for the love of it. Not for academic reasons. Not for profit. Merely for the joy of her stories and her language.”

“Oh.” I hadn’t thought of that. “So you came here for the fun of it?”

He laughed. “Precisely.” And then his expression grew more serious. “You should come back next year. For the same reason.”

I nodded. “Maybe I will.” How long had it been since I’d done something just for the fun of it?

My taxi pulled up to the curb, and I reached for my suitcase. “Good-bye, Martin. I hope we meet again.”

“Good-bye, Claire. I do too.”

The driver loaded my suitcase into the taxi, and I slid inside. Here I was, right where I’d begun.

So much had happened in one short week. So much had changed. I’d never expected an adventure. Never wanted a challenge. But now I was so glad that I had found both. And I was even happier that I had proved to be worthy of them.

The departure lounge at Heathrow was full by the time I arrived. I glanced around, hoping to spot an empty seat, when
I saw a familiar-looking Royals cap that had definitely seen better days.

Neil.

It couldn’t be. But it was.

My first instinct was to hide, but obviously we were going to be on the same plane for a lot of hours. Plus, with my luck, he would have the seat next to me. I might as well face the inevitable.

I walked over to him and set down my carry-on.

“Hey,” I said. “I thought you left yesterday.”

“Hey,” he replied and rose to his feet. “I was on standby and couldn’t get on, so they put me up in a hotel for the night.”

I would have liked to delude myself into thinking that he ’d purposely manipulated matters so that we were on the same plane home, but I knew better.

We stood there in silence for several long, uncomfortable moments.

“I’m sorry.” I took a step backward. “I didn’t mean to disturb—”

“What did you want, Claire?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts.

You
, I wanted to say.
I want you
. But if I actually said those words… well, I didn’t think they would be too well received.

“I just wanted to apologize one more time. For everything.”

He took off the cap and scratched the back of his head.
His hair stood on end in unaccustomed disorder. “You did that already. In Oxford.”

“I know, but—”

How’s James?

The question caught me off guard. “James? He’s—”

“Rich? Good looking? A big improvement over a jock like me?”

His words hit me like a blow, and I winced, not so much from their power but from the realization that he was very, very angry. He slammed the cap back on his head.

“Sorry, Claire. I shouldn’t have said that. No matter what’s happened between us.” He let out a gusty sigh. “I knew all along I wasn’t the right man for you. Guess I thought if I ignored it, then it wouldn’t be true.”

“But—”

“James is a lucky guy. Tell him I said so.” He fixed his gaze on a spot somewhere over my shoulder.

“Neil—”

His face softened a little. “I’ll be okay, Claire. So will you.”

Which wasn’t true, of course. Well, it might have been true for him, but it definitely wasn’t true for me.

“Neil, wait—”

He shook his head. “I already have, Claire. For a lot longer than I should have.”

“I know.” I stepped toward him, wishing I still had the right to reach for his hand. To hold it in mine. Although at that
moment I would have done a lot more clutching than holding. “I’ve been an idiot,” I said, and tears stung my eyes.

He smiled, but his expression was filled with sadness, not humor. “That makes two of us.” He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else. That hesitation lit a very fragile flame of hope in the space where my heart had been.

It was time to swallow whatever pride I had left. “I thought you should know that I realize I made a huge mistake.”

His chin lifted several inches. “What kind of mistake?”

“Well, more than one mistake, of course, but the biggest one was this.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the box that held the engagement ring. I opened it, and it sparkled under the fluorescent lighting.

Neil scowled. “Thanks a lot, Claire.”

“No, no. You don’t understand.” Alarm and adrenaline flooded through me. “The mistake wasn’t you.” I stopped and swallowed in an effort to get the words past the lump in my throat. “The mistake was not realizing how much I love you.”

I couldn’t believe I had actually said the words, but judging from the expression on his face, I must have. I saw disbelief. Comprehension. Confusion. Anger. And then the very faintest beginning of what I’d been hoping for, what I’d been longing to see.

Joy
. The tiniest spark, deep in his eyes.

“Claire—” The word held a warning note.

“Wait. Let me say the whole speech.”

“You prepared a speech?”

“I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“All right. Let’s hear it.”

“I blamed you.” Okay, maybe not the best start, but at least I was trying. Neil made a half-strangled noise but didn’t say anything. I screwed up my courage and continued.

“You weren’t anything like what I thought a hero should be, even though you were everything I wanted. Well, almost everything. I still thought something was missing. It was easier to blame you for spending too much time watching ball games and taking me for granted than to deal with my own problems, to accept that you got tired of making plans and my canceling them so I could go running over to Missy’s house.”