Page 5 of Arranging Ayra
Devi was actually Barnaby Darcy. I still couldn’t believe it. The transformation was incredible, from the gawky kid in the photo to the gorgeous movie star. He had bulked up over time, probably a good thirty pounds heavier than his string bean days, and his skin had completely cleared up, leaving his face smooth and clean. Once his braces were removed, he was left with beautiful white teeth and with that, a gorgeous and charming smile. His black mop of curls was shorn quite short at the back with a bit more volume at the front, framing his face in a way that accentuated his strong features, like chiseled cheeks, a masculine jawline, and green eyes.
I hated to admit it, but I was star-struck!
“Ayra!” a feminine voice called as I wandered aimlessly through the manor. “Ayra!”
The clip clop of heels came toward me and as I turned to face the oncoming voice, I smiled.
“Keely!” I let out with excitement and relief.
“You finally made it! Heavens, I thought you’d lost your way.”
Exhausted and eager to find my living quarters, I gave her a weak hug.
“I’m so happy to see you,” she said, hugging me back with much more vigor than I had to offer. “Is everything all right?”
“Fine. Great,” I said. “Just a little jetlagged.”
“Oh. Of course.” She looked down at my luggage. “And you’re not even settled in yet.”
“I was detained in London a little longer than planned,” I said with a wry grin. Not wanting to relive my no-show date with Devi, I quickly changed the subject. “Do you happen to know where I’ll be staying while I’m here?”
“Absolutely,” she said. She picked up my smaller suitcase. “Follow me.”
Grabbing the handle of my larger suitcase, I guided it alongside me as we walked through the wide corridors with impossibly high ceilings. I lugged the big, heavy thing up the stairs, suddenly regretting all the shoes I’d packed.
“You’re going to love it here,” Keely said as we reached the upper level and took to the corridor. “It reeks of Jane Austen.”
Although the old-world structure was modernized with unexpected lighting fixtures straight out of the twenty-first century, modern and abstract art that seemed awkwardly out of place, and steel and iron sculptures that were virtually space aged, the bones of the place were good and sound.
“Here you go,” Keely said as she pushed open a black wooden door.
I’d fully expected something dark and dank, something heavy with blood red velvet drapes, woolen rugs of faded roses and rustic dark furniture. But the door opened to a ray of sunshine that was instantly explosive.
Painted a pale yellow, the walls rose up to twelve feet with the ceiling painted a slightly darker shade of yellow. Trimmed with white crown molding, the room was elegant and welcoming.
Three area rugs were scattered over the whitewashed wood floors: one beside the bed, another at the foot of the bed and the third under the small desk by the windows.
“You like it?” Keely said with apprehension when I said nothing.
“Like it? Keely, this is gorgeous. It is sonot what I expected.”
“I knew you’d like it. I told the caretaker of the place that you were coming in from sunny California and I wanted you to feel right at home.”
I smiled as I playfully leaned into her. “I guess it’s a good thing that I happen to know the co-founder of the Jane Austen Association.”
And as the director, screenwriter and co-executive producer of thePride and Prejudicefilm, I knew that Keely carried a whole lot of weight. She wasn’t the type to give up easily, and she had a way of getting what she wanted. If she told the caretaker of the manor to arrange for a bright and sunny room for me... then it was a sure thing the task would be done.
“Look,” she said as she put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you unpack, maybe freshen up if you wish, or take a quick nap if you need to. I’ll come back in... let’s say an hour to give you the grand tour of the place. How does that sound?”
Despite my fatigue, I was eager to explore the place. “Make it twenty minutes.”
“Deal.” She turned on her heel. “Catch you later.”
As Keely closed the door behind her, I went to one of the four tall windows and pulled back the delicate white curtains to look outside. Just like so many English manors, the perfectly manicured lawn seemed to go on forever. To the far left was a large pond – more like a small lake – probably filled with fish and ducks. Beyond the pond stood tall trees that reached high to touch the sky. But above it all, was the spectacular view that seemed to go on forever. Rolling hills and a patchwork of agricultural lands were dotted with tiny villages so quaint and inviting.
I returned to the bed and sat on the edge to run my hand over the white bedcover that was embroidered with tiny yellow flowers and delicate bright green leaves. I breathed in the air of the space, filling myself with the aura and spirit of the old manor. As the music arranger for the upcoming film, I wanted to immerse myself in that old world mindset.
I looked around the room. All the furniture was of a pale wood, perhaps bleached, with delicate porcelain drawer pulls. The area rug at my feet, though clearly not an original, replicated the delicate flower patterns of the past.
