“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.