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Authors: Jude Deveraux

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BOOK: The Girl from Summer Hill
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Tate sat where he was, his head back against the seat. He didn't think he'd ever felt so unwelcome in his life. Ever since he'd started acting as a kid, people would stop and point excitedly when they saw him. “Aren't you that boy on…” had been something he heard often.

From the time he was sixteen, he'd been greeted by squealing females.

When he'd been in the house with that peacock, in the back of his mind he'd thought how Miss Pajamas would forgive him for his earlier rudeness. But she hadn't even given him a chance to explain. She certainly hadn't acted like he'd thought she would!

He could almost hear his sister's voice. “What did you expect, that she'd say, ‘Tate Landers ate my best pie! I am the luckiest person on earth!' ”

Well, actually, maybe he had thought that. But then, maybe when he saw the peacock in her house he should have called animal protection. And he should have called Kit to come get him. He should have—

He ran his hand over his face. All in all, he did
not
want to go inside that old warehouse and face all those people. Was the entire town of Summer Hill made up of people like Miss Pajamas? When he got in there, would she have told them he'd eaten the pie everyone wanted?

He started the truck. Maybe he'd just drive directly to the airport and take the next flight out. Instead, he moved the truck to the far side of the parking lot and sat there with the motor running as his phone charged. When the passenger door was flung open, he wasn't surprised.

“Why aren't you answering your phone?” Jack got into the passenger side of the truck and closed the door.

“Dead battery.”

Jack was looking at his friend. “You're scared, aren't you? You're so terrified of all those women that you're afraid to go in there. But I don't blame you. They're an excitable lot. They made fools of themselves over the guy who's playing Wickham. He's good, but the last girl who read with him is better. She may be a young Meryl Streep.” Jack paused. “What's really eating you?”

Tate gave a half smile. “ ‘Eating.' Perfect word.” Turning, he leaned against the door. “What's this about you and the girl playing Jane? From what I heard, it was love at first sight.”

“I bet Casey told you that.” Jack was grinning in a silly way.

“Casey?”

“Miss Pajamas? Remember her?”

“Oh, yeah,” Tate said. “I think maybe she carved a new spot in my brain just for her. But forget that. Who is this Jane?”

“She's beautiful.” Jack's eyes seemed to look far away.

“Of course she is. The town beauty queen. Won all the prizes. Best swimsuit. But is there anything else about her that you like—or have you noticed?”

“No beauty pageants. Her dad is the local Baptist minister. We haven't stopped talking all morning. We tried out for the roles of Bingley and Jane and it was perfect. I really
felt
the lines!”

“I thought you were going home with me tomorrow.”

Jack gave a snort. “No, I'm staying here. Kit didn't want to give me the role because he said I'd leave, but I swore I wouldn't. I don't have to be back until September.”

“What about your training? You can't show up in the fall with a gut from eating entire berry pies for lunch.”

“Who does a stupid thing like that?” Jack said. “I've already talked to the producer and he's sending a trainer here. He wasn't happy about it, but I told him this was the way it was and that's it. What about you?”

“I'm leaving at noon tomorrow and glad to go. Have you thought this through? You're staying here because you're hot for the preacher's daughter, but what happens after you get her? These small-town girls aren't usually happy with one-night stands or even summer affairs. They want to tie a man down with kids and complaints that you didn't call them for a whole three days. They—”

“Maybe I want that!” Jack said. “Maybe I'm sick of going home to an empty house. Sick of girls who ask me if they can sign autographs because they've slept with me a couple of times. They want the man they see on the screen, not
me
.”

“What did this girl put in your drink?”

Anger flashed across Jack's face, but then he laughed. “This town is like where I grew up, except that no one is singling me out for a parade. Anyway, my point is that I'm staying here for the summer. I'm going to be a regular person for as long as I can manage it. I guess I should ask if I can stay in your big empty house. Casey is going to cook for me.”

“Casey again,” Tate mumbled. “You sure seem to have hit it off with all the women in this town.”

Jack looked at his friend. “Okay, so what's the truth of why you're hiding out here in your truck? There are half a dozen women inside waiting to audition for Elizabeth.”

“Did Kit tell them I'd be reading Darcy?”

“Of course not. If he did, you'd have to deal with every female in town. You should have seen the lineup to play Lydia, and all because the Wickham guy was okay-looking.”

“What about whoever is playing Darcy?”

“Rumor is that it will be a guy named Josh Hartman. He's been building the sets, he's six two, and he looks good in a bland sort of way. But the girls seem to like him. By the way, Kit told me your costume for the auditions arrived and it's backstage in your dressing room.”

“What about Miss Over the Moon Pajamas? What's she trying out for?”

Jack grinned. “She's not auditioning, but then, in my opinion, she's a contender for the world's best cook. She used to run Christie's in D.C.”

“Nice place,” Tate said, “but she hates me.”

“Females don't hate you.”


She
does. I, uh, well, I ate one of the pies she made to bring here.”

“Some berry custard thing? With a top crust like a flower? Everybody's been saying it was missing. You didn't steal a pie, did you? I mean, really?”

Tate rolled his eyes. “Not you too! Yeah, I stole
that
pie. And, yes, I ate the whole thing. With a spoon. A
big
spoon. But after what I did for her, I deserved it. But she didn't even ask why I'd done it. She just assumed that I was doing something bad in her bedroom. It's a wonder she didn't call the sheriff.”

Tate stopped talking and glared out the window.

“Casey was only gone for a few minutes. What the hell did you
do
to her?”

“Me?!” Tate said. “She was the one who—” He broke off because he realized Jack was laughing at him. This was one of the reasons they were friends. Jack could laugh at anything, while Tate could always see past the surface.

“What are you going to do?” Jack asked. “Stay out here and watch your phone charge? From what I've seen of that man Kit, he'll come out and drag you inside. Do you know what he did before he retired?”

“I have no idea. In the time we spent together, he didn't reveal much about himself. He said we're related through his mother's family, but I'm not sure how. I know he visited Tattwell when he was a kid because he helped Nina. Why?”

“Just curious. From the way he walks, I think he's ex-military.” He picked up Tate's phone. “This is charged enough. You had a call from your sister, and Emmie sent you a photo of a peacock with its tail spread. What's that about?”

Tate took his phone from Jack. “I had to wrestle one of the beasts this morning at Casey's house and it almost won. Stay out of my messages. You ready to go in?”

“Think you can stand it? Want me to run inside and get you a piece of pie for energy?”

Groaning, Tate got out of the truck and they walked together to the front of the warehouse.

Jack halted. “Maybe Casey could make you a peacock stew. Are those things edible? Hey! How about some peacock PJs?”

Tate put his fists up like a boxer. “Maybe I should stay and be your trainer.” He made a double left jab at Jack's face.

Jack easily ducked and sent a right cross to Tate's stomach.

But Tate twisted to avoid it and hit out with a left uppercut, which also missed its mark. Jack countered, and they went back and forth.

“Halt!” came a powerful voice.

Both men dropped their hands and came to attention.

Kit was standing in front of the warehouse doors with a scowl on his face. “Inside. Now.” Turning, he went back into the building.

“Yeah, military,” Tate whispered.

“Or dictator of a large country,” Jack said.

Tate nodded in agreement. It was possible.

When Casey got back to the food tables, Olivia had finished putting out the desserts from the local bakery and people were helping themselves. Since Kit had announced who was going to play Lydia, most of the high school girls had left. There were still some minor parts to cast, but most of the people were waiting to audition for Elizabeth. Since everyone in town was sure Josh was going to be Darcy, a lot of women wanted the part. Several of them had tried for dates with him, but few had succeeded. Hope for the future was written on their faces.

Casey opened the pie containers Josh had set on the table.

“I've heard about some berry custard pie you make that's supposed to be heavenly,” Olivia said.

“It's not here. It was consumed in its entirety.” Casey's voice was terse.

“Oh?” Olivia asked in an encouraging way. “What happened?”

“I guess his royal highness got hungry, but I still can't believe he ate a whole pie. He probably had one slice, didn't like it, and threw the rest out.”

“Who?”

Casey waved her hand. “It doesn't matter, except that he's going to be here in—” She broke off because a woman hurried to the tables. She was tall and strongly built. Her face was long, her hair dark, and her eyes seemed to be flashing in anger.

“It's not fair!” she said to Olivia. “I wasn't given a proper chance to be Jane. If I'd known that sucking up to that B-movie actor would get me the part, I could have dealt with it. Or I could have tried out for Lydia. But really! To give the part of Jane to that wimpy little Gisele Nolan was ridiculous. She—”

“Hildy!” Olivia said. “This is Casey, and this is my daughter-in-law, Hildy.”

She looked Casey up and down, as though appraising her. “What are
you
trying out for?”

Her tone of aggression, combined with her rather deep voice, made Casey blink. “Nothing. I'm just here to cook.”

“Good!” Hildy said. “Stick to that, although I must say that your shrimp was a bit too spicy for my taste. You should call me and I'll give you my own recipe.”

“I'll consider that.” Casey stepped away to the end of the table.

“Hildy, that wasn't very nice,” Olivia said.

Hildy turned her piercing gaze on her mother-in-law. “What are you doing back here at the food tables? People will think you're the maid. And what is this I hear about you trying out to be Mrs. Bennet? Are you showing off? You get a part but
I
don't? Is that what you want?”

Casey didn't like that this woman was taking her anger out on Olivia. Worse, Olivia was beginning to slump. Seconds ago her eyes had been full of laughter, and now her shoulders seemed to have fallen.

It wasn't any of her business, but Casey went to the other end of the table. “You aren't going to try out for Elizabeth?” she asked Hildy loudly.

Hildy glanced at Casey in dismissal. “This is a family matter.” She looked back at her mother-in-law. “I don't think you should be in the play if I'm not. I'm sure this director will give you the part if you show him those ancient photos of yourself, but it wouldn't be fair to me. Besides, you're not exactly young, are you? This whole thing would exhaust you! I think—”

“Tate Landers is auditioning the Elizabeths,” Casey interrupted.

Again Hildy turned to her, but this time her dark eyes were blazing in anger. “I told you that—” She stopped as she realized what Casey had said. “Who?”

“The actor Tate Landers. He owns Tattwell and he's a relative of Kit's. Landers is going to read Darcy with the women who audition for the role of Elizabeth.”

Hildy blinked a few times, then she abruptly turned on her heel and left.

For a few moments it was awkward between Casey and Olivia, neither of them seeming to know what to say.

“I apologize for that,” Olivia said. “When she's upset, Hildy forgets her manners.”

Casey wanted to ask how often a bawling out like that happened and why Olivia didn't stand up to her. But it was too soon for personal questions like those. Besides, Olivia was so embarrassed that Casey thought she might leave. “What photos does she mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” Olivia said. “It's just some long-ago history.” She looked relieved that Casey wasn't commenting on Hildy's anger.

“Does it have anything to do with the envelope Kit gave you and how he called you Mrs. Bennet?”

When Olivia gave a bit of a smile, Casey was glad to see her shoulders begin to straighten. “Actually, it does. I did some acting when I was younger.”

“You
have
to let me see!” Casey said. While it was true that she wanted to see photos of Olivia as an actress, she was even more interested in doing something to make her feel better. Hildy's words seemed to have taken the life out of Olivia.

Olivia took her handbag from under the table, pulled out the envelope Kit had handed her, and held it out.

Casey pulled out a shiny black-and-white head shot of a beautiful young woman, a younger Olivia. It was a three-quarter profile, and she looked like she was smiling at someone she loved. Her blonde hair was up in the back, with curls framing her face. The square neckline of her dress was quite low. “You're dressed as Elizabeth?”

“I was. I played her for twenty-four performances.”

“Here in Summer Hill?”

“No.” Olivia put the photo back in the envelope. “On Broadway. In New York.”

“Wow!” Casey said. “You're a real live star.”

Olivia smiled modestly. “Not at all. That was my only foray into that world, and it didn't last long.”

“What happened?”

“Life. I had to return home to Summer Hill, then I met my late husband, Alan Trumbull, and…” She shrugged. “It didn't work out for me to go back to the stage.”

“When was that?”

“Long ago. In the swinging seventies.” She put the envelope back into her bag.

“But it looks like Kit saw you on Broadway.”

“I guess he did. I didn't know that.”

“But he remembers, so you must have been good,” Casey said. “I think you should try out for—”

“Oh, no!” Olivia said quickly. “If I got a part and Hildy didn't, my life wouldn't be worth living.” Olivia put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

Casey touched Olivia's hand. “My mother is a doctor, and she drilled it into me that half of abuse is the silence of the person who is on the receiving end.”

Olivia stiffened. “Hildy isn't abusive. She just gets upset.”

“Sorry,” Casey said. “I overstepped, but I still think you should audition. Hey! If Hildy gets a role, will you try out too?”

“Possibly,” Olivia said.

“Think of the smell of greasepaint and the footlights.”

Olivia laughed. “It's not the 1890s, but that does sound good. I can do my work during the day, so most of my evenings will be clear.”

“What's your job?”

“Actually, I live with my stepson and Hildy. I do what I can to help out.”

Casey had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that Hildy had made a derogatory remark about Olivia being treated as a maid. But that's what Hildy seemed to think her mother-in-law was.

Casey saw Kit walking toward the exterior doors. “Excuse me, I have to ask Kit something.” She practically ran to him. “You have to give Olivia's daughter-in-law, Hildy, the role of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She thinks she's so pretty—which she is
not
—that she should have been chosen for Jane. She also thinks she's young enough—which she is not—to be Lydia. So now she's going to try for Elizabeth, but she won't get it. Who she is perfect for is that snobby, arrogant, bad-tempered Lady Catherine. If you, as the director, can reach Hildy's true personality, you'll have a great character. And best of all, if you give her that role, Olivia will audition for Mrs. Bennet.”

Kit gave a bit of a smile. “Organizing the world, are you?”

“Just a few people. Do you agree?”

“Yes,” Kit said. “Should I flatter this Hildy's ego?”

“Do anything you have to do to get her off Olivia's back.”

Kit frowned. “What does that mean?”

“I'll tell you later. Just give Olivia the Mrs. Bennet role. That will help in many ways.”

“I'd always planned for her to have it,” Kit said. “Now, speaking of help, where is Tatton? I thought you were going to pick him up with the pies.”

Casey bared her teeth. “I did bring him here, along with
five
pies. He ate one of them—so he says. But who knows what he actually did, since he was upstairs in my bedroom. And don't look at me like that! I have no idea what he was doing up there. He's the King of Entitlement so I'm sure he thought that because he owns the place he has a right to go anywhere he wants. He showers on my porch, eats the food in my house, and does whatever he did in my bedroom.”

Kit was watching her with interest. “I don't think most women would object to young Tatton being in their kitchens. Or for that matter in their bedrooms.”

“Whatever he is onscreen is
not
how he is in real life. Besides, I like to think women have more sense than that. To answer your question, I did my job and brought him here. Ask Jack where he is.”

“Jack left the building twenty minutes ago. I can't believe he abandoned young Gisele for that long.”

Turning, Casey saw the young woman in one of the seats. Already, there were two men sitting by her. “You think Jack and Gizzy could really make it together?”

“How much do you think Jack is like the characters he portrays in the movies?”

“You mean a reckless daredevil who risks his life every time he steps out the door?”

“That's about it,” Kit said.

“I don't know, but since you've conned Jack into spending the summer here, it's my guess that Gizzy is going to make sure that we find out. Oh, look! There they are now.” Outside in the bright sunlight were Jack and Tate. Jack looked happy, as though he was glad to be alive, but Tate was scowling. “I find it impossible to believe that women like that man.”

“Think not?” Kit said, then his voice boomed out. “For today's reading of Elizabeth, the actor Tate Landers will play Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

For a moment everyone in the building froze in place. It was like a sci-fi movie where a space traveler could stop time. A breeze whipped papers about, a bird called from outside, but inside, the people did not move so much as an eyelash.

Then, suddenly, it was as though the world started turning again, and the level of activity was like a dozen helicopter blades starting at once. World records were set in speed-dialing as every phone was attacked. It was a wonder the state's cell towers withstood the stampede.

“He's here!” screamed a voice into her phone. That was the only sentence that could be heard clearly. In the next second everyone was excitedly shouting into a phone. The voices of the people, male and female, as they called sisters, cousins, friends, spouses, everyone they knew, reached a decibel level that only a few merfolk could hear.

Kit looked down at Casey, his eyebrows raised as though to say, “I told you so.”

She waved her hand toward the entrance. Tate and Jack were now in a fake boxing match. “Boys!” she mouthed to Kit, not even trying to be heard over the cacophony around them. Turning, she started back toward Olivia at the food tables.

But before she reached her, the room was filled with the sound of cars, trucks, and vans coming to an abrupt, screeching halt. Gravel was sent flying. In seconds, women ran inside, wearing clothes that ranged from dirty jeans to an evening gown with the price tag hanging off the low-cut bodice.

Minutes later, Jack had disappeared with Gizzy, but Tate was near the far wall with Kit. Around them were several women holding out scripts for Tate to autograph and staring up at him in adoration.

BOOK: The Girl from Summer Hill
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