The Girl from Summer Hill (9 page)

It took only four time-wasting auditions for Kit to see what was going on.

First, he sent the stage manager to Tate to tell him to wait offstage, then, like the military commander everyone believed he had been, Kit ordered the women who'd already tried out to leave. There was a lot of grumbling, but they picked up their handbags and left. Kit told the women who were left to line up near the food tables.

With his hands clasped behind his back, Kit walked past them, his eyes blazing. “I want to make myself clear. Only the
serious
actors are to remain. If you are here for the sole purpose of making a fool of yourself in front of Mr. Landers, to show him that Summer Hill, Virginia, is the laughingstock of the entire country, to dishonor yourself, your entire family, and this state, then leave
now
!”

No one dared move. But then, who was going to admit to such low-life objectives?

“Everyone else is to get their scripts and memorize their lines. You have seen Mr. Landers, so you know what a true actor is supposed to do. When you go on that stage I want you to become Elizabeth Bennet. To clarify that: A man you thoroughly dislike has told you that he loves you. But at the same time he's saying that he can't believe he wants to marry you because you and your entire family are far beneath him in education, culture, good manners, and money. You are to react with anger to the dreadful things he is saying.”

Kit looked at each of the dozen women standing in a line before him. “I want no more teenage, starry-eyed gaping at Mr. Landers. I want you to show him what Virginians can do. Show this actor what
you
can do!”

Olivia and Casey were behind Kit and saw the way the women stood straighter at his words.

He continued. “While you are going over your lines—this time with serious intent—another actress is going to show you how the scene
should
be played.”

Nodding, Casey looked at Olivia. “He means you.”

She shook her head. “I'm too old. Maybe it's that girl who played Lydia.”

“She's a kid,” Casey whispered back.

Kit stepped aside so the women could see Olivia and Casey.

“It
is
you.” Casey was smiling.

Kit held out his arm. “Coming to us from our nation's capital, I give you Miss Acacia Reddick.” He sounded like a circus ringmaster.

Casey blinked at him. Smiling, Olivia stepped away, and when the applause started, she joined in.

“I can't—” Casey began, but Kit took her arm and led her toward the door to the backstage area. When they were in the hallway that led to the lower level, she halted. “Are you crazy? This is ridiculous. I've never acted in my life.”

“Sure you have. Haven't you heard that all of life is a stage? I know you know the lines, so there's no problem.”

“I can't do this. And besides, I can't stand the actor. I've never met a more arrogant, self-satisfied—” She broke off, her eyes wide. “Like Elizabeth thought Darcy was.”

“Exactly,” Kit said. “And wouldn't you just love to tell him off? To break that cool smugness he has on the stage? All these women fawning over him haven't made him so much as hesitate. Tell him what you actually think of him—in Austen's phrasing, if possible. Think he could handle that?”

“I…” Casey began, but then a slow smile took over. “He would be shocked if he walked out there and saw me, wouldn't he?”

“He'd probably completely lose his composure.”

Casey's smile broadened. “Seeing that would make it worth getting up there.”

“You can show the players someone who isn't awed by a man just because he looks good in front of a camera.”

“Yes!” Casey said. “Where do I change?”

“Straight down there. First door on the right.”

“Corset, here I come!” She hurried down the corridor.

Smiling, Kit turned away. He'd always meant for young Tatton to play Darcy. He just wasn't sure who would be Elizabeth. But now he was almost certain that he'd found her.

“Hello” came a male voice from the doorway.

Casey was sitting at the dressing table putting on a third coat of mascara. She had on the costume, but she wanted to look her best when she went onstage. Turning, she saw the man who was to play Wickham holding a pretty bouquet of spring flowers. He had on dark trousers and a white shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He looked really good!

“These are for you.” He rather shyly stepped forward and put them on the edge of the table.

She thought how refreshing it was to meet a man who seemed humble rather than acting as though he owned the earth. When he started to leave, Casey said, “Wait!”

He turned back, smiling, but he didn't step inside the little room.

“If you got those for the winner of the role, that isn't me,” Casey said. “I'm just supposed to…Well, I'm not sure, but I think my job is to give Mr. Landers a hard time.”

The man's handsome face instantly went from shy happiness to appearing almost afraid. “Are you sure you want to do that? Landers is a big name in Hollywood.”

“Maybe he is,” Casey said, “but for me, telling him off is going to be easy.”

His face relaxed somewhat, but the man still seemed worried. “I understand wanting to do that. By the way, I'm Devlin Haines and I've been cast as Wickham.”

She liked that he didn't assume she knew who he was. “I saw you perform and you're very good.”

“That's kind of you to say.”

Casey got up and went to shake his hand. It was big and warm and he had truly beautiful eyes. Wish
he
had showered on my porch, she thought, and reluctantly pulled her hand away.

Politely, he stepped back from her. “I don't mean to put my nose where it doesn't belong, but you should be careful of Tate Landers.”

“From the sound of it, you know him well.”

“Unfortunately, I do. He used to be my brother-in-law.”

Casey's eyes widened. “Are you Emmie's father?”

His words came fast. “Yes, I am! Have you seen her? Is she going to be here soon? What did she say? Did she mention me?” He took a breath. “Sorry, it's just that I haven't been allowed to see my daughter for weeks. Excuse me.” For a moment he turned to the side and Casey thought maybe he was wiping away a tear. When he turned around, his smile was forced. “I apologize for that, but I'm a bit daft when it comes to my daughter. How do you know her?”

The deep emotion of the man, his sense of loss—his tears—seemed to fill the room. “I just heard her over the phone. She laughed, that's all.”

“Ah, yes. The sweetest sound on earth. The music of the angels. It's been so very long since I heard it.”

“Casey,” the stage manager said from the hall, “they're ready for you upstairs.”

“I'm coming,” she answered, then looked back at Devlin. “I don't mean to pry, but what do you mean that you haven't been ‘allowed' to see your daughter?”

He took a deep breath, as though trying to gather his courage. “I guess the most diplomatic answer is that my famous ex-brother-in-law is a very rich and powerful man. He could afford to give his sister, my wife, the very best of lawyers. I'm sorry. I came back here to wish you luck. I don't know what is causing me to bare my soul. But there's something about you…Again, I'm sorry to be rambling on. You must think I'm an idiot.”

“I don't.” Casey was solemn as she thought about what he'd just revealed about Landers. It was one thing to trespass but another to use the legal system to take away a man's daughter. She smiled at Devlin. “After I get this done, why don't you come to my house for dinner—if His Royal Highness hasn't thrown me out because he owns the place, that is. We can talk about…things.”

“I would like that very much.” Life seemed to be coming back into Devlin's eyes. “You know, there aren't many people—especially women—who are perceptive enough to see beneath how Tate presents himself to the world.”

“Casey!” the stage manager shouted. “You need to come
now
!”

“Tell His Majesty Landers to keep his shirt on. And I mean that literally. I'll be there in a minute.” As she plucked a little blue flower from the bouquet Devlin had given her and stuck it into her hair, she smiled at him warmly. “This isn't Hollywood and he doesn't rule here.” She started down the corridor, walking backward. “Eight
P.M
., my house. You know where Tattwell is?”

“I rented a house here for the summer just to be near it. I'm hoping that my daughter will visit and I'll get to see her.”

“You will,” Casey said.

“The moment I saw you standing by the food tables and laughing, I knew you were special. I felt it.” Devlin was grinning, but then he grew serious. “But be careful of him. Tate doesn't like to be crossed, so tread lightly.”

Casey gathered her long skirt and ran up the stairs. “No, I don't think I will be careful,” she said quietly as she took her place on the stage.

Casey didn't look at the audience. But then, it was mostly the women from town who'd come to drool over a movie star. Besides them, there were a few workmen who were still planting the garden and some electricians in the rafters, putting in the lights. She didn't know if Josh was around or not. And there was Kit, behind his desk and watching, with Olivia not far away.

For a moment Casey smoothed her skirt and composed herself. She knew her lines well, since she and Stacy had helped to write them. And for the last few hours she'd heard them many times.

Right now, foremost in her mind was what she'd just heard about Devlin's dear little daughter. Why had Tate Landers done something like that? But she seemed to know the answer. She'd seen his sense of possession. He owned Tattwell, so he believed that gave him the right to enter her house when she wasn't there.

As for his niece, it was almost as though he carried her in his pocket. Did he consider his sister and niece his property? Something he owned? Is that why he'd used his wealth and prestige to get rid of Emmie's father?

As she stood there, she could feel her anger building. Right now he seemed to be delighting in making everyone wait for him.

I must remember that I am Elizabeth Bennet, she thought. I'm supposed to be from a time when women didn't stand up to men and tell them off.

To her right the people were, yet again, waiting for HRH to appear onstage. When the stage manager yelled, “Quiet on the set,” Casey knew he was about to appear. What? No drum rolls? No trumpets playing “God Save the King”?

As Tate Landers stepped forward, there was a wave of female sighs and it was all Casey could do not to roll her eyes. He did look like the proverbial tall, dark, and handsome, but as Devlin said, she was perceptive enough to see beneath his exterior.

When he saw Casey, he didn't react as she thought he would. She'd expected a frown and for him to emit an annoyed “You!” Instead, there was a bit of a smile, as though he was glad to see someone familiar.

I bet he sees me as something he owns, she thought, and her expression almost turned into a glower.

“Sorry for the delay,” he whispered when he was a few feet from her. “Wardrobe problems. My—”

“Shall we get on with this?” she said curtly.

“Sure.” He took a step back. “Where do you want to start?”

“How you think I'm an inferior being to you.”

He was staring at her as though trying to figure something out. “I really am sorry for all that's happened today. Maybe tonight we could—”

“You can begin now,” Kit said loudly.

Tate turned to him. The stage was so brightly lit that by contrast the auditorium was almost dark. “Sure,” Tate said. “Give me a second, would you? I need to channel Darcy.” He turned his back to them, but Casey could see his profile—and he was
not
trying to get into character. “Let me take you out to dinner tonight and explain what happened.”

“No, thank you,” she said with a smile in her voice. “I have a date with a man named Devlin Haines.” Casey had the great satisfaction of seeing him look at her in horror. She didn't give him time to recover his composure. “ ‘Sir!' ” she said loudly. “ ‘What is it that you wish to say to me?' ”

Instantly, he went from looking horrified to wearing Darcy's lovesick expression, which had become familiar to all of them. He faced her.

“ ‘I have fought against my feelings.' ” Tate's voice was full of longing. “ ‘But your inferiority of birth and circumstances and your lesser family have not swayed me from what is in my heart. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. I ask you to marry me.' ”

Casey was glad she'd rehearsed this scene when Kit was writing the words. She gave Tate a look of pity. “ ‘I see by your countenance that you expect a favorable answer, and I should like to give it. But, sir, I cannot accept your proposal. I am sorry to give you pain, but I daresay you will have little difficulty in your recovery.' ”

Tate stepped back as though she'd struck him. “ ‘This is your reply? Am I to have no reason why I am rejected with so little civility?' ”

Casey lost her expression of pity, and a bit of anger glittered in her eyes. That she felt real anger at him helped. “ ‘And may I ask why you offend and insult me by declaring that you care for me against your will, against your reason? Even against your character! If I liked you before, I do not now!' ”

“You have misunderstood me. I should like to explain myself. I—” These were not the words in the script.

Casey wasn't about to give him a chance to talk his way out of what he'd done. “I have every reason in the world to dislike you. You have invaded my privacy, falsely accused me. You have stolen what is mine.” Her eyes were now blazing in anger. “You have tried to take a father away from his child.”

“I have what?!”

This was Tate Landers speaking, not Mr. Darcy, and Casey couldn't help a bit of triumph at having penetrated his complacency. “Do you deny that you used your wealth and power to obtain legal counsel for your sister?”

She saw enlightenment come into his eyes and he stiffened. “Do you refer to my former brother-in-law?”

“I do. To the man who will be Wickham. What say you to this? Did you or did you not interfere in what was a private matter?”

In the audience, everyone had come to a standstill. The electricians sat down on the overhead beams, legs dangling as they watched what was happening on the stage. One of them adjusted a spotlight so the two players were better highlighted. The women who were to try out next halted, eyes fixed. Who dared to speak to a movie star like this?

The only person in the room who didn't seem shocked was Kit. He was sitting behind his desk and smiling—as if this was exactly what he'd hoped for.

“Wickham?” Tate said under his breath, then he put his shoulders back. “I did.” His voice was proud. “I used all that I possessed to get my sister away from a man she did not love.”

“And so you admit that your niece was a pawn in your attempt to control a family? It seems that, as with me, you assumed ownership of those around you.”

Again, Tate's face changed, only this time he went from anger to what appeared to be amusement. “I have never owned you, even though you first appeared to me in a nightdress that was from a child's fairy tale. Was your intent to seduce me into an illicit liaison?”

Casey's anger increased. “Seduce you? Why you vain, arrogant—” She glared at him. He was
not
going to make her forget where she was! “You, sir, are the villain in this. When you first showed yourself to me, you were as bare as the day you were born. You conjured rain from above and soaped parts an unmarried woman should not see.”

Tate almost smiled. “Then why did you not make yourself known? Why did you not flee the scene?”

“It was a matter of fear. Does not the maiden fear the attacker?”

“That you held still in utter silence to watch said soaping makes me question your maidenhood.”

Casey's lips curled up in a snarl. “Shall we compare the multiple losses of physical virtue? Perhaps a recording of names would suffice. Is there enough paper in this small town for such a long list as yours would be?”

For a moment he turned away from the audience. Only Casey could see that he was truly enjoying himself. When he turned back, the audience saw “that” look, the one he used onscreen. His dark eyes seemed to exude lust and desire. His voice was a low, seductive rumble. “Perhaps your protests are intended to add yourself to that number.” He reached out to touch her cheek.

But Casey lifted her hands and blocked his touch. “I wouldn't have you if—”

Tate had taken both her wrists in his hands. Slowly and seductively, he kissed her palms. He looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes, as though he expected her to fall into his arms and forgive him all.

Casey felt nothing. His action was so false, so meant-to-impress, that she had no response. She gave him a cool gaze. “Sir! I demand that you release me.”

Tate was so shocked that she knew she'd struck home. He'd used his most seductive acting maneuvers on her and had failed.

He dropped her hands and stood there staring at her, seeming to have no reply.

Casey couldn't resist an extra punch. “Tonight I will enjoy dining with the brother-in-law you have discarded.” When she saw that she'd rendered him speechless, she went back to the script—and there was genuine venom in her voice. “ ‘From the first moment I heard you speak, I have seen your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for others—all of which have built within me an unbreakable dislike of you.' ”

She stepped so close to him that her breasts were almost touching his chest, and she looked up into his eyes. She was glad to see that she'd erased the smugness from them. “ ‘Sir! If you were the last man on earth, I would not marry you.' ”

Tate stepped back from her. “ ‘That is enough! I understand your feelings and am now fully ashamed of my own. Forgive me for taking so much of your time. I wish you health and happiness in your life.' ” Turning, he left the stage.

Casey stood where she was, watching him walk away, his steps angry, then she started to walk toward the other side to leave.

That's when the cheering erupted. Startled, she turned toward the audience and saw that everyone was applauding and calling out. Electricians in the rafters, gardeners from outside, all the women, everyone was clapping and shouting.

“You go, Casey!” they yelled.

“Tell him for us!”

“Brilliant!”

Casey felt blood rushing to her face. During the…whatever it had been, she'd forgotten about the people watching. She had only been aware of shooting barbs back and forth with that detestable man.

However, the applause and the cheers did feel good. She gave a bit of a curtsy, then ran off the stage.