"Where are we going?" She whispered as she followed him into the darkness.
Taking her hand in his gently he whispered, "stop being impatient."
"I'm not being impatient, I'm cold!"
The tall, silver-haired man in the dark blue coat turned towards the honey blonde lady and took her hand, gently pulling her towards him.
"Well, we're here now," he murmured. "Let me warm you up."
He pulled her in for a kiss, softly at first and then firmer, with more potency. She let him wrap his arms around her, feeling the same tingles from when he had first kissed her that night on the rooftop of the Wyatt tower, when the stars had burned in the sky and they had given in to their summer-long flirtation. Joyce knew that she might get burned by Hugh this time, but at least she would have tried, at least she would have known that the electric she felt years ago was justified. Back then she knew that it could never have worked – there were bigger expectations of him, the heir to Pemberley needed to marry a society heiress with a private school education and a trust fund or a title, and she had none of those. She had left the house at the end of the season, without explanation and without regret.
"Are you warmer now?" He pushed her fringe away from her face so that he could see her blues eyes in the moonlight.
"Yes," she smiled up at him. For the first time in a long time, Joyce felt like she was home, as if she had found her missing jigsaw piece. She placed her hand on his cheek, running her thumb along his cheekbone. "You look the same."
A small smile caused his cheeks to dimple and she was taken immediately back to the hot July afternoon when, hot and sweating, he had recklessly dived into the pond and then pulled her in after him.
"Shall we go inside so you can perhaps see me without the flattering glow of the moonlight?"
They were standing outside of a lone cottage on the furthest reaches of the estate, below them the city of Manchester twinkled in the distance. Inside Paddock Cottage, the fire was already burning, the comforting smell of pine alight infused the room and the humble stone interior was gently lit with candles.
"As House Manager I should tell you off severely for leaving candles burning unattended, you are at serious risk of damaging the property of the Historical House Society," she said with mock consternation.
He looked at her earnestly, looking like the boy she had admired so much, "do you like it?"
Joyce felt the prick of happy tears behind her eyes, but she pushed them back to smile at him with her whole face. "You brought me to the cottage."
"Yes," he nodded. "Do you remember?"
"I do," she whispered. "I thought you had forgotten."
He took a tentative step towards her, "I never forgot."
"Me neither."
"When I came back from Cambridge, you were gone. I thought I had done something wrong, that you despised me after what we did on the rooftop," he looked down and started to fidget with his signet ring.
"No," she whispered. "I was scared."
"Scared?"
"You were the heir to Pemberley, and I was scared that the more time we spent together the more in love with you I would have been. You needed to marry someone not like me"
He smiled sadly, "I think I would have done a better job of matrimony if I had married someone like you."
"You know what I mean, Hughie," she murmured. "You had to marry the right type of woman."
"I did," he said firmly. "Once anyway… But both of them divorced me." There was a sadness in his voice that he could not disguise. It felt, to Hugh, that the failure of his marriages lay solely at his feet, even though he had not done anything wrong. Patricia fell out of love with him the moment a better offer came along, whereas Carol appeared to have woken up one morning and decided that she detested him. He had tried to make it work with her, tried so hard, but there is only so long you can fight for something that doesn't want to be won.
"There is no shame is walking away from something that isn't right."
He looked up at her, and then he knew.
"No," he whispered. "It was because it was always you."
He looked at her and she could not have failed to have understood his meaning. Overcome by a sudden rush of love, Joyce threw herself into Hugh's arms, hugging him so tightly that she came to think that if she let go she would fall to the earth. He held her close to his chest, feeling the thump of her heart against his own, before kissing her until the candles burned out.
Benn wrapped his arm around Lizzy's shoulder as he proudly walked with her towards the north front entrance of Pemberley, she looked up at him and grinned, and he had grinned back. The touch of her gloved hand on the dancefloor had sent sparks through him and although he managed to concentrate on the job in hand, he was nervous with anticipation. It was more than a sexual attraction though; as much as he wanted to kiss every inch of her body, wanted to feel her against him, he also wanted to make her laugh, wanted to make her frown so he could stroke the little crinkle on her brow.
"Where are we going?" She questioned as she put her hand underneath his jacket and stroked the base of his back.
"Where do you want to go?"
Grabbing his hand, she took him through the staff entrance gate at the top of the rose garden, punching in the passcode with her mittened hand. She took him towards the pergola, which was illuminated by the moonlight of the chilly October night.
"Have you brought me here to prove a point?"
Lizzy looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"
"This is where you told me off, where we ate cake."
She smiled as she remembered the day in summer. "Oh yes," she said surprised "How did you remember that?"
"You were wearing shoes with bees on them," with a serious face now. "And you wiggled past me when you walked as if you were daring me to follow you."
She laughed as she recalled the day, "I was daring you and I was so glad I had those shoes on because I wanted to strut past you for being so rude. Hateful man!"
He sat on the bench and took both of her hands in his own, "I apologise for my most un-gentleman-like manner." Pulling her towards him, his head was at chest height and she hugged him tightly against her as he put his arms around her waist. "Lizzy, you must know how I feel about you."
She bit her lip and nodded silently, "I do."
He leaned up and kissed her on the cheek, repeating, softly, gently, like butterfly kisses all over her face, each one sending a tingle down her body; he pressed on faster, firmer, kissing the soft spot behind her ear, the nape of her neck, before she couldn't wait any longer and put her hands on his face, she looked into his eyes and then he kissed her deeply and without any restraint. Lizzy had never been kissed like this before, it was almost reverential, and each touch made her body radiate an invisible glow. They kissed until kissing was no-longer enough and the air became too cold. As they made their way up to the flat in the tower, laughing and giggling and kissing, Lizzy was met with a tearful, red faced Harriet.
"Harriet," she rushed over to her and put her arm around her shoulder "What's the matter?"
"They've been trying to call you… They've been trying to call anyone, but no-one was answering the phone."
Lizzy led Harriet over to the couch, covering her with the tartan blanket from the back; Benn unsure what to do did what he thought was best and put the kettle on.
"Calm down, what's happened, who has been phoning?"
"The hospital," she said before bursting into tears. "They think Imogen might die."
"What?" Lizzy went immediately ashen-faced, "has there been an accident?"
"They think she took some pills, they don't know, but no-one was answering the phone and I've been waiting for you to get back."
Lizzy hugged Harriet tightly, "I'm so sorry" Benn handed her a cup of hot, sweet tea and sat down on the chair next to the two Darcy women.
"Mum, you need to go to London now… There needs to be someone there in case she-" Harriet was overwhelmed with tears and unable to finish the sentence.
Lizzy looked at Benn, he didn't know what to do or what to say, but he wrapped his arms around them both before trying to take command of the situation. "I'll drive you down there now, I have my car."
"No," she grabbed her car keys and bag. "You have a film to finish and you need sleep. Matthew will go mad if this film runs over budget…" She began to walk to the door and he followed.
In hushed tones he murmured, "this film isn't important, Lizzy. You are important, please let me do this."
"This film is important – hundreds of people have worked for nearly a year on it and you cannot let them down, I will not let you. Don't be silly."
"Don't call me silly, let me do this for you," he said resolutely.
"Benn, if you could look after Harriet for me, and when my father comes back, please let him know what has happened and where I am."
She looked him firmly in the eye; he knew Elizabeth Darcy well enough to know that once she had made up her mind that she was determined, and nothing would be able to change it. He reluctantly nodded in agreement, "okay."
"Harriet, please try and get some sleep. I will let you know when I get there. I love you."
"Love you too," Harriet said into her mum's coat as she hugged her. Lizzy kissed her daughter on the forehead, before taking the details from the pad on the coffee table.
Benn followed her to her car, holding her tightly against the cold. "Let me know if I can do anything else, my assistant is in London, she can arrange anything you want."
"I'll be fine," she smiled sadly. "Thank you for tonight."
He kissed her softly on the lips, "thank you. I know your sister will be okay."
Lizzy nodded silently, sadly, before pulling him in for another hug. As she closed the door, he could see the tears in her eyes and the worry etched across her face and more than anything he wanted to drive her there, to hold her and comfort her and be there for her when she needed him. He watched until the car disappeared and quietly prayed for a miracle as he walked the Pemberley staircases up to the tower.