Dating Mr. Darcy - Kate O'Keeffe Page 0,60

the ornate fireplace that looks like it has been added so that we can both sleep comfortably. The view is of the formal gardens below, with their boxed hedging and sculptures, and the most gorgeous stone pergola atop a low-lying hill in the middle distance.

“Em, this place is incredible,” Kennedy says, her eyes wide as she also takes in the room. “It’s like stepping back in time to a really, really rich person’s house. Which it is, when you think about it.”

I drop my luggage on the chaise at the bottom of one of the beds and gaze out the window. “It sure is something.”

“Are you kidding me? Did you see the portraits on the walls as we came up the stairs? All the art, the tapestries, the furniture? I didn’t quite realize it back in Texas.”

I turn back to face her. “Realize what?”

“Sebastian is an actual gentleman. As in a sir or something.”

I bite my lip, my insides churning with too many emotions. “He lives a different life from us, that’s for sure.”

A life I know I could never be a part of.

Chapter 20

It’s the first soirée at ‘Pemberley,’ and we’ve been instructed to wear our Regency clothes and curl those ringlets around our faces once more. With a sigh of regret for my twenty-first century self, I pack my Timothy activewear in the room’s chest of drawers. Sebastian followed through on his promise to allow me time to showcase my designs. Now it’s my turn to play the part of one of The Lizzies.

The place is abuzz with chatter as Kennedy and I reach the terrace. It’s a beautiful, mild evening, and as usual, the drinks are flowing. Again, as usual, once Sebastian arrives, he’s surrounded by a gaggle of eager women vying for his attention, their voices high and loud, interspersed with frequent giggles.

I’m sitting with Kennedy, Reggie, and Phoebe, sipping a glass of wine, the ever-present cameras hovering nearby.

“Welcome back to 1813, ladies,” Kennedy says as we settle back against the firm cushions of one of the wrought iron sofas.

I take a sip of my wine. “I know, right? We had a small taste of our fashion freedom, and now it’s been ripped from us once more.”

“I like it,” Reggie declares. “It seems right to be wearin’ these in a place like this. It’s romantic.”

“I agree,” Phoebe says.

“Do y’all have huge rooms with four-poster beds like we do?” Reggie asks. Her Southern drawl oddly seems to fit in the English aristocratic surrounds.

“Yup. Our room is amazing,” Kennedy replies.

Reggie whistles. “That’s a lot of bedrooms, and that doesn’t even include Mr. Hottie over there, or his family, who I expect to be lurkin’ ‘round here somewhere.” She gestures at Sebastian and I look in his direction. Camille is now smiling broadly as she leans up against him as though he were a man-wall, placed there for her benefit. He looks happy enough, but then the cameras are perpetually trained on the guy, so who knows? It could be all for show.

The lines are definitely blurred between what’s real and what’s not on reality television.

I turn my attention back to my friends. “It was a workout just to walk down here tonight, this place is so huge.”

Kennedy waves her glass in the air. “I am not looking forward to all those stairs tonight after a few of these.”

“Right?” Reggie agrees. “I wish there was an elevator.”

I scrunch up my nose. “I’m not sure they had those in 1813.”

“You know what I wish?” Phoebe says. “I wish I could Google Sebastian. Find out about him and his family. I bet the history of this place would be fascinating.”

“I’d like to Google him to find a photo of him with no shirt on,” Reggie says as she eyes Sebastian across the terrace. “Am I right, ladies?”

“Heck, yes,” Kennedy replies and I smile as I try not to think of Sebastian without his shirt on ... and fail.

Has the temperature suddenly risen about twenty degrees out here?

“Back in the States, I figured he was just some guy acting the part,” Kennedy says. “Sure, you could tell he’s English, and clearly came from a fancy family. Now, being here, you see he’s the real deal. I saw his family crest in the house, and it looked old. Not like those ones you can buy off of the Internet.”

“You can buy a family crest off of the Internet?” Phoebe asks and Kennedy nods her assent.

I roll my eyes. “Remind me to do that