The Spiral Path (40 page)

"
C
ut."
Rainey set down her flower basket with a sigh. "Definitely don't
print."

Greg frowned at the section of garden
where they'd been shooting. "We should adjust the lighting."

"Go ahead. Maybe a break will be
good for my nerves." Rainey smiled ruefully at the woman acting opposite
her, Dame Judith Hawick. One of the British theater's most revered actresses,
she'd agreed to play the small but vital role of Sarah's mother. Rainey had
always admired the older woman immensely, which was probably why she was so
nervous that she'd blown their first scene together four times running.

Dame Judith was too much a pro to
comment on Rainey's fumbling, but she did arch her brows expressively.
"Have a shot of whiskey, my dear. I always find that wonderfully good for
nerves."

"If I blow my lines again, I might
just do that." Wanting to stretch her tense muscles, Rainey moved away
from the camera. It was amazing how quickly the last week had flown by. Today
was Saturday, the last day of location shooting before they moved to London for
the sound stage scenes.

She was surprised to see Kenzie leaning
against the nearest trailer, arms folded across his chest. She'd have preferred
that he missed her clumsiness, but it was impossible not to enjoy the sight of
him. Wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses, he was almost a caricature of
gorgeous Hollywood cool.

She strolled toward him, wondering if
everyone could see the heat sizzling between them. Carrying on a torrid, secret
affair agreed with them both. The knowledge of how fleeting it would be lent a
bittersweet intensity to their time together. She refused to think of how his
infidelity had shattered the foundation of their relationship. What mattered
was the moment, and how much good they were doing each other.

With his help, she'd learned how to get
into Sarah's skin, while he seemed to have overcome his problems with Randall
and was doing terrific work. If the dailies were to be believed, the movie that
had once existed only in Rainey's mind was meeting and exceeding her expectations.
Film was being flown regularly to Marcus in Los Angeles, and he agreed that
they had the makings of a real winner.

When she reached Kenzie, she said,
"Dame Judith is wonderful, and by this time she probably thinks I'm an
idiot."

"I doubt that. She's pretty
gracious with beginners." He smiled reminiscently. "She was with me.
Years ago I played a tiny part in a play where she was the star, and fell over
my own feet in front of her during the dress rehearsal. She looked down and
said, 'My dear boy, being a footman doesn't mean you need to lie down to be
walked on.'"

Rainey laughed. "Maybe I should try
a pratfall to loosen things up. I'm too awestruck to be able to think of her as
my mother, particularly since she has to give a lecture on wedding vows and
'till death do we part'. Pretty different from Clementine."

Mentioning her real mother caused a
sharp, unexpected pang of loss. If Clementine hadn't died, what kind of
relationship would they have now? Friends, probably, with her mother being warm
and a little wacky, while Rainey would be the worrier of the pair. But--they'd
be friends. Being a pal was a role that would have suited Clementine better
than motherhood had.

Kenzie smiled. "Tell Rainey to go
off somewhere, and let Sarah play the scene. Maybe she'll accept Dame Judith as
a mother more easily."

"Why is it we have to be told the
obvious over and over? Thanks." Rainey made a rueful face, then returned
to the garden. She had had trouble maintaining her usual focus in this role,
probably because of her dual duties as director and actor, but Kenzie could
always get her back on track when she wandered.

The reflectors has been shifted and
tweaked, and everyone was in position for another take. Rainey closed her eyes
for a moment to summon Sarah. When she was sure her character was in control,
she opened her eyes and spoke to her wise, practical mother, who was serenely
deadheading roses.

The take was a print, and so was the
next. The rest of the outdoor scenes with Dame Judith flowed smooth as cream.
Barring a processing disaster,
The Centurion
was ready to move to
London.

The last scene of the day included
Kenzie. When the final "cut and print" was called, he bowed over the
older woman's hand. "It's a pleasure to work with you again, Dame Judith.
Especially since I have more than a single sentence to deliver this time."

Dame Judith laughed. "But you fell
to the carpet with consummate style. I knew even then you'd go far, Kenzie.
Perhaps we can do another play again someday. Oscar Wilde, perhaps."

He looked surprised, then intrigued.
"I'd like that, I think. I haven't done a play since I went to
Hollywood."

Dame Judith's gaze was calculating.
"I'm going to be directing my first production in the United States soon,
and hope to do a West End play in a year or so. Shall I have my agent call your
agent if the right property turns up?"

"It's worth a try, though
scheduling is usually a problem," he replied.

Rainey grinned. "I'd fly halfway
around the world to see the two of you do a play together."

Dame Judith's gray eyes narrowed like a
cat considering a mouse. "What about you, daughter? Have you done any
theater?"

"Yes, Mama." Rainey dropped
back into the character of a Victorian daughter. "Though I'm scarcely fit
to trod the boards with two classically trained British actors."

"Nonsense, my girl. You can hold
your own with anyone." Dame Judith smiled. "The chances of such a
project happening are thin, but it's amusing to dream, isn't it? I'll see you
both in London." She inclined her head graciously, then swept off the set.

Rainey spent a moment imagining what it
would be like to share a stage with Kenzie and Dame Judith in some romantic
venue like Stratford on Avon, where she and Kenzie might have another fling.
Maybe an on-and-off affair was the most they should have tried for. But she'd
wanted more, and at the beginning, so had he. Putting the thought aside, she
headed toward her trailer, Kenzie falling into step beside her. Tired but
pleased with the day's work, she murmured under her breath, "Your place or
mine tonight?"

He gave her a sidelong glance that
raised her blood temperature by several degrees. "How about my room? I
like the idea of you breaking in and ravishing me."

The promise in his eyes made her want to
ravish him on the spot. She was wrestling with temptation when Kenzie's
assistant approached. "Kenzie, there's another message from London. Mr.
Winfield's condition is deteriorating rapidly. If you don't visit soon, it
might be too late."

Kenzie stopped dead. "What? Is
Charles ill?"

Josh looked surprised. "Didn't you
see the note I left for you yesterday? The head nurse at Ramillies Manor called
to say that he's suffered a sharp decline. They ... aren't optimistic."

Kenzie looked as if he'd been punched in
the stomach. "I didn't bother to look at any of my messages. Rainey, I'm
driving up to London. You might have to shoot around me for the first day or
two on the sound stage."

Before he could escape, Rainey put her
hand on his arm, feeling the tight muscles. "Do you want me to go with you?"

He shook his head. "I can manage on
my own."

She'd expected that--he was much better
at giving support than receiving it. "I'm sure you can, but I'd be glad to
come." She thought of her bleak flight to Baltimore after her
grandfather's accident. "This looks like the sort of journey that
shouldn't be made alone."

He hesitated. "Very well, if you
can spare the time. Fifteen minutes to change. Meet me at the Jaguar." He
spun away and headed to his trailer, rattling off orders to Josh over his
shoulder.

Rainey headed for her own trailer as
fast as her restrictive gown would allow. On the way, she grabbed a wardrobe
assistant to help her out of her costume. As the assistant unhooked the gown
and the blasted corset, Rainey hastily cleaned off her makeup. There was just
time to toss a toothbrush and cell phone into her handbag and slide into a
comfortable shirt, jacket, and slacks.

She was breathing hard when she reached
Kenzie's Jaguar. Impatient to be off, he was pacing restlessly beside the car,
but he still opened the door for her. His mother had trained him well. As he
circled to the driver's side, Val raced up and handed a tote bag to Rainey
through the open window. "Road rations."

Word got around fast. Rainey glanced
down and saw a variety of food and drink. "Bless you, Val. Take care of
whatever needs doing. I'll call you when I can."

Val nodded and stepped back from the
car. Kenzie took off. After fastening her seat belt, Rainey combed her hair out
of its complicated Victorian arrangement, glad to let it fall loose around her
shoulders.

Kenzie was quiet, whipping the sports
car along narrow lanes at a speed just short of total recklessness. He drove
with absolute concentration, his profile as still as marble. He seemed so
unaware of her that she began to wonder if she'd made a mistake to invite
herself along. She waited until they emerged from the maze of local roads and
roared onto the M5 before asking, "Would you like something to
drink? There's a thermos here that probably has coffee."

Her voice pulled him out of his
thoughts. "Thanks. I'd like that."

She poured steaming coffee into one of
two travel mugs Val had included. There were even small cream containers. After
handing Kenzie the mug, she dug farther into the tote bag. "Val is wasted
as a lawyer. She'd make a really first-class caterer. When you get hungry,
there are sandwiches, fruit, shortbread, and what looks like a couple of
still-warm Cornish pasties."

"Good. We won't have to stop to
eat." He sipped his coffee, gaze on the motorway. "Do you recognize
the name Charles Winfield?"

"The stage actor Charles
Winfield?" When Kenzie nodded, she continued, "On my first trip to
London, I saw him in
She Stoops to Conquer.
He was the best Mr.
Hardcastle I've ever seen. He's a friend of yours?"

"More than a friend. A
mentor." Half a mile blazed by. "The man who taught me to act, and
convinced me that a theatrical career was possible."

Kenzie's sentences were short, almost
brusque. Maybe that was because for the first time, he was actually revealing
an important piece of his past. Winfield sounded like a surrogate father.
"He must be well along in years now."