The Girl from Summer Hill by Jude Deveraux Page B

unmarried, doesn’t-even-have-a-girlfriend movie star.
    Not one of the women had taken the idea of being in a local play seriously. With home and job obligations, they didn’t have time for rehearsals, and certainly not for weekend performances.
    The women began to admit that all they really wanted was to say they’d been among the people who’d tried out. The single women wanted to smile seductively at Tate, and the married women wanted to tell him how much they loved his movies. Their shared confidences resulted in the second round of auditions going badly. Some of the women didn’t even appear to make an effort in their performances.
    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