The Girl from Summer Hill(27)
“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.”