Page 30 of Desperately Seeking Mr. Darcy

Macey

TODAY IS THE DAY. IN a matter of minutes, our Uber driver will pull into Pride and Prejudice Park, where I get to leavebehind all my work and life drama and step into the world of Elizabeth Bennet for the entire week.

It was raining when we first woke up, but now the sky is clearing, and I can even see some glimpses of blue peeking through the clouds. I think this is a good omen.

You are strong. You are brave. You are going to have the best week ever. Hopefully.

“You can’t stop smiling, can you?” Zane says, leaning toward me in the back seat of a blue Tesla. He’s wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt—the best we could manage since he hadn’t packed anything remotely formal, given his original plans for Costa Rica. I, on the other hand, am dressed to impress in a light-blue dress and heels. It’s giving mismatched-pair-at-a-high-school-dance vibe, but I don’t actually care.

I nudge him with my elbow, feeling my cheeks warm. “Yes, I can.” I try to stop the grinning and fail.

“Gotcha,” he says, but there’s a smile on his face too, although it’s not quite as big as mine, and probably not there for the same reasons.

“Sorry,” I say, but I’m really not.

“Don’t apologize,” he says. “I like it.”

I don’t know if it’s the decent night’s sleep I ended up getting, or that my excitement for today is taking over all other feelings I’ve been experiencing, but I don’t mind him being here so much. I would have had to be excited by myself, had I gone alone. And that doesn’t sound all that fun, to be honest. It’s nice to have someone to share it with, even if it is Zane and I still have no idea how this will go. For now, I’m choosing to enjoy the moment.

Last night I remembered to email the resort and let them know I’d be bringing a plus-one again. I’m sure I’ve completely confused them—first saying I’d bring Derek, then telling them Iwasn’t bringing anyone, and now, at the last second, saying I’m bringing someone after all.

The driver makes a turn, and I let out an actual squeal—one I don’t have time to feel embarrassed about, but surely will later—because we have arrived. Behind a wrought-iron gate sits an absolutely gorgeous, large country house, the exterior made of brick and stone in a lighter color, which gives it the loveliest golden hue. It’s surrounded by manicured gardens with mature trees and meticulously maintained landscapes.

I am immediately obsessed.

Zane chuckles next to me, probably amused by my over-the-top response. But I can’t help myself. I’m finally here.

“Oh my gosh,” I say, before squealing again as two footmen, dressed in Regency clothes, open the gates and wave us through. I’m practically bouncing in my seat. Actually, I’m literally bouncing right now. Zane shakes his head at me, but it’s in a what-am-I-going-to-do-with-you kind of way.

“Look, we have an entourage,” Zane says, pointing to the lineup of staff in front of the house, all in costume, waiting for us to pull up.

They are all dressed impeccably, with outfits ranging from servant uniforms, consisting of aprons and waistcoats, to more elaborate attire to resemble characters from the book. A few of the women are in bonnets and long dresses in muted colors, a look I can only assume is for the lady’s maids. One man, tall and in a dark tailcoat, is surely the butler. He stands rigid, at attention, near the center of the line.

I’m so excited, I might burst. All my worries about playing Elizabeth to Zane’s Darcy have now vanished because I couldn’t care less. That’s not to say it won’t come creeping back in, but right now I feel like a kid who’s just seen Disneyland for the first time.

“Welcome,” an older woman says as we exit the car.

Zane lets out a snort at the sight of her, one that, luckily, only I can hear. She’s wearing a huge gray wig and a massive purple dress with ample bosom pouring out the top of it for all to see.

“I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh,” she says, dropping her head in acknowledgment of us, her voice deep and regal sounding.

I’m guessing this is Agatha Smythe, the park proprietor. According to the welcome packet, she oversees the reenactments and will also play the part of Lady Catherine.

“I’m so happy to be here,” I gush.

“Well, I can assure you we are most thrilled to have you,” she says. However, her facial expressions don’t reflect her words. She looks almost annoyed, which, to be fair, is very Lady Catherine–like. She’s in character already, and I am here for it.

“Thank you, Your Ladyship,” I say, before curtsying, and I hear Zane make that same snorting noise again. I stand up straight and elbow him lightly in the gut, which thankfully Agatha/Lady Catherine doesn’t see.

Instead, she’s walking toward the doors of the house, an arm outstretched toward them. “You are our final guests to arrive. If you would kindly follow me into the marble hall, the rest of our esteemed party awaits. The staff will attend to your bags.”

I look over to see the two footmen who opened the gates for us, now carrying our luggage—one with Zane’s heavy backpack and the other with my suitcase and backpack. The contrast between their period costumes and our modern baggage is almost absurd, like two worlds colliding in the most awkward way. And I love it. I already love everything about this place.

“That is a ridiculous amount of cleavage,” Zane says near my ear as we follow behind Agatha, the skirts of her purple frock sweeping the floor as we follow her up the steps and toward the entrance.

“Shhh,” I whisper. “She’ll be playing your aunt this week.”

“Gross,” he says, scrunching his nose as the butler opens the double doors, ushering us all inside.

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