A Weekend with Mr. Darcy Read Online Free

fascination with her toes, pecking at their painted extremes with great vigour.
    He was now ‘Wickham the chicken,’ and his ladies were also named after characters from Pride and Prejudice . There was Lizzy, the bright young thing who was quite aware of her surroundings and always the first to raise an alarm. There was the tiny chestnut called Lydia because she was always running away. The supercilious lavender grey was called Lady Catherine. The speckled hen was Mrs Bennet, for she was always fussing around the others like a typical mother hen, and the pale gold was Miss Bingley because she had an air about her, and Robyn was convinced that she looked down her beak at everyone else.
    Robyn looked at them all now, pecking around the garden in the sunshine. She loved watching them and could spend many a happy hour reading in her deck chair, listening to the funny little noises they made.
    â€˜You ready, then?’ a friendly voice called over the low fence.
    â€˜Hi, Judith,’ Robyn said, smiling at her elderly neighbour who kept an eye on the chickens when Robyn was at work and whenever she went away.
    â€˜You sure this isn’t going to be too much bother?’ Robyn asked.
    Judith put her hands on her hips. ‘I’ve brought up four sons single-handedly. I think I can manage a few bantams.’
    Robyn laughed. ‘I can’t thank you enough. It’s a real weight off my mind. You’re like an auntie to these chickens.’
    Aunty Judith shook her head, obviously not approving. ‘You just enjoy your weekend. You work too hard, you do. You need to get out more.’
    â€˜That’s what Jace is always saying.’
    Judith’s mouth straightened into a line. ‘You’re still with him, then?’
    Robyn blushed. She knew how her neighbour felt about her errant boyfriend. He’d never managed to endear himself to the old woman—not since the time when he woke her up with his drunken singing at three in the morning and then vomited all over her prize roses.
    â€˜I thought you were going to break up with him.’
    â€˜I will,’ Robyn said.
    â€˜You’ve been saying that since that young Lydia was an egg.’
    Robyn sighed. It was true. She’d been meaning to sort things out with Jace for some time. Indeed, she’d been on the verge of saying something only last week but he obviously picked up on things and decided to safeguard his position by suddenly being nice to her and buying her the biggest box of chocolates she’d ever seen. He’d eaten most of them himself but it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?
    She’d been going out with Jace since school, and it was more of a routine now rather than romance. Jason Collins or ‘Jace’ as he preferred to be known, for years insisted that his pals called him ‘Ace,’ but it had never taken which didn’t surprise Robyn in the least. For one thing, he still lived with his mother in a house on the edge of Skipton. It was a lovely property with three large bedrooms and a garden that Robyn’s chickens would adore, but a young man of twenty-five shouldn’t still be living with his mother, having all his laundry done and meals cooked by her. It just wasn’t natural. Not that Robyn had ever felt the urge to live with him—oh, no! But if she was ever going to live with somebody, then it would be someone who was a little bit more independent than Jace.
    And I could never marry him, anyway, Robyn suddenly thought. For one thing, I’d be Mrs Collins! She grinned naughtily as she thought of the ridiculous character of Mr Collins in Pride and Prejudice . Robyn Collins. It would never work; it was just another one of the tragedies about their relationship, but the biggest tragedy of all was the fact that she didn’t love him anymore.
    She tried desperately to think about their early, heady days together when they were at high school. Holding hands