The Midnight Rose

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The Midnight Rose Page 24

by Lucinda Riley


  ‘Yes, that part has been wonderful. Sorry if I’m sounding like a brat. I guess I just haven’t been feeling very well.’

  ‘And what about the enigmatic Lord Astbury? He hasn’t tried to jump you yet, has he?’

  ‘God no!’ Rebecca rolled her eyes. ‘I get the feeling he isn’t very interested in girls – or boys, or any relationship really.’

  ‘Well, I can’t make him out at all,’ agreed James. ‘Living in that great house alone for all these years, no Internet or modern conveniences – he’s a strange one, that’s for sure.’

  ‘I like him actually, and I agree, he’s unusual, but there’s something so sad about him. I sometimes just want to throw my arms around him and give him a hug,’ Rebecca admitted.

  ‘So you are falling for him?’

  ‘Absolutely not! I just feel kind of protective of him, that’s all. It’s like he doesn’t really understand the modern world. Oh God, I’m sounding just like Mrs Trevathan!’ She groaned.

  ‘Well, given what you say, it’s a good thing that he has the unnaturally devoted Mrs Trevathan to care for him,’ said James equably.

  ‘I’m beginning to wonder if that isn’t half the problem.’ She sighed. ‘Even if he did meet somebody, I doubt they’d stand a chance with her watching their every move.’

  ‘From everything you say, she is obviously in love with him. Perhaps they’ve been secretly shagging for years.’ James grinned. ‘I’m picturing clandestine rendezvous in the linen cupboard or behind the potting shed.’

  ‘Stop it!’ she begged, squirming at the thought. ‘Anyway, it’s none of my business, is it?’

  ‘No, but it’s always interesting to imagine other people’s lives. And we are actors after all, darling, so analysing human behaviour is a big part of our job.’

  ‘Another thing that bothers me is the way Anthony keeps telling me how much I look like his grandmother, Violet. It’s very unsettling.’

  ‘Do you?’ asked James.

  ‘I’ve seen her portrait, and yes I do, especially with my hair dyed this colour.’

  ‘Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice once said. You’re not related to this Violet, are you, by any chance?’

  ‘No. My relatives were certainly not connected to the English aristocracy at all, I’m sure.’ Rebecca took a sip of her wine. ‘Quite the opposite, actually.’

  ‘Well, from the sounds of things, the goings-on at Astbury Hall are the basis for a much more interesting plot than the one we’re currently filming,’ James surmised.

  ‘You know, sometimes, when I’m in costume, I have this weird sensation that I really am Violet, the woman I look like, living her life at Astbury back in the twenties. It’s all rather surreal.’

  ‘Well, try not to lose your marbles just yet, darling, it isn’t a good idea to start getting fantasy and reality confused. Any time you require bringing back to the real world, I’m your man. Now, shall we order?’

  A middle-aged woman appeared shyly by their table. ‘Excuse me for interrupting, but aren’t you James Waugh and . . . oh my God! You’re Rebecca Bradley! I didn’t recognise you with the different hair colour.’

  ‘Well spotted,’ said James, smiling at the woman. ‘What can we do for you?’

  ‘Well, I’d love both your autographs, and a photo, if possible.’

  ‘Of course.’ James took the proffered napkin and pen and wrote his signature on it. He was just passing the napkin to Rebecca when a flash went off in their faces.

  ‘Thank you so much. Sorry to bother you both, and I hope you enjoy your time in England, Miss Bradley.’

  As the woman left their table, Rebecca looked at James in horror. ‘You let her take a photo? I never allow a fan to do that without signing a release stating it won’t be for public use and will only be for their private album!’

  ‘Calm down, Rebecca, I doubt very much whether she’s going to send it off immediately to the nearest tabloid newspaper.’

  ‘Well, that’s what usually happens to me when someone takes a photo without signing anything,’ Rebecca retorted, feeling sick.

  ‘I suppose you’re far more newsworthy than I am.’ James shrugged. ‘Let’s keep our fingers crossed that she doesn’t.’

  After that, the two of them were interrupted constantly by a stream of excited locals seeking their autographs.

  ‘I think it’s time to remove ourselves, don’t you? I’m so sorry, Rebecca,’ he said as he guided her out of the pub and into the waiting car. ‘I obviously underestimated the extent of your fame, even in a sleepy little village like this one.’

  ‘Never mind,’ said Rebecca shakily. ‘Forget every bad thing I said about life at Astbury earlier, I’m so glad to be going back there now, returning to the security of it. I’d almost forgotten what it’s like going out to eat in public.’

  ‘God, your life must be hell.’ James rolled his eyes. ‘How on earth do you cope?’

  ‘I don’t and the truth is, I haven’t even agreed to marry Jack yet! It’s the media who’ve gone into a frenzy.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m not at all sure what I’m going to do.’

  ‘I see,’ said James quietly as they drove through the majestic moors under a star-filled sky.

  ‘Anyway,’ Rebecca sighed. ‘I’m sure I’ll sort it out when I get back to the States. I’m not saying things are over between us, I just don’t want to be rushed into a wedding.’

  ‘Well, if you ever did decide to bin him, I’d be very willing to put myself forward as an alternative suitor.’

  ‘Well, thank you, kind sir,’ Rebecca replied lightly, ‘but I don’t think that’ll be necessary.’

  ‘No, more’s the pity.’ As they pulled up in front of Astbury Hall, he said, ‘I gather it’s probably not very appropriate to invite me in for a coffee or a nightcap at your place, so I’ll say goodnight here.’

  ‘Goodnight, James, and thank you for supper.’

  Rebecca opened the car door, but before she could get out, he grabbed her hand and pulled her back towards him to give her a warm hug.

  ‘Remember, darling, I’m always here if you need to talk.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Releasing herself from his grasp, Rebecca climbed out, blew a kiss at him and waved as Graham and he drove away. Turning to walk up the steps and into the house, she did a double take as she recognised who was standing at the front door.

  ‘Jack,’ she said, faltering as she walked slowly up the steps towards him. ‘What in the world are you doing here?’ She could see his face was like thunder.

  ‘I did try to contact you to tell you I was coming on over to see you, but you never got back to me. And I think I’ve just understood why. Who’s lover boy in the car?’ he asked her in a furious tone.

  ‘No, Jack –’ Rebecca shook her head – ‘he’s not – I mean, really, I –’

  ‘Well, at least it makes me understand why I’ve hardly heard a peep from you in the past two weeks. So, I guess the best thing is for me to leave right now.’

  ‘Jack, please! It’s not what you think at all!’

  ‘Then what the hell is it? If it’s not him, then tell me the reason why I haven’t spoken to you more than once since you left and we agreed to get married!’

  ‘We didn’t! Look, please,’ Rebecca was aware that they were standing with the front door wide open so anyone inside the house could hear the conversation. ‘Please, can we at least go into the house and I can explain?’

  ‘Jesus Christ!’ Jack gave her a sudden cold smile. ‘You sound just like me when I’ve been caught in a sticky situation.’

  Mrs Trevathan appeared at the doorway, looking fraught. ‘Perhaps it’s best if you come in. His Lordship is asleep and I don’t want him disturbed.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Trevathan,’ said Rebecca, ‘I didn’t know my . . . friend was arriving.’

  ‘No, that’s because you were probably in the arms of your new lover and couldn’t be bothered to return my calls!’

  ‘Please, sir, I’d be grateful if you
could keep your voice down,’ hissed Mrs Trevathan.

  ‘Would you prefer that we go to a hotel?’ Rebecca asked her as they followed the housekeeper in. ‘My driver can take us there.’

  ‘I doubt you’d find anywhere open at ten-thirty at night,’ she said tartly, leading them along a corridor and opening the door to a small sitting room right at the end of it. ‘I hope you can resolve your differences in here.’ She pulled the door shut as she left.

  ‘Is she out of Central Casting, or what? So –’ Jack crossed his arms – ‘would you like to tell me what the hell is going on? Is it over between us, and you just haven’t had the balls to tell me?’

  ‘I told you, Jack, I have no cellphone or Internet signal, and there’s only one telephone here, which I don’t like to use.’

  ‘Well, from the looks of things, you weren’t lying about that,’ he conceded. ‘This place is like something out of a history book. However, even if it has been difficult to get through to me, when I’ve left message after message with the production office to tell you to call me, you either haven’t, or you’ve called at a moment you know I won’t pick up. I want to know why, Becks.’

  Rebecca sank down onto the sofa, feeling shocked, exhausted and unprepared for this showdown. ‘I guess I just wanted some time to think.’

  ‘Think about what? Us? The night before you left I gave you an engagement ring and asked you to be my wife!’ he shouted. ‘Then you run off the next day and don’t tell me where you are or what’s going on in that head of yours, Becks. And the one time we do speak, you sound so distant, like you couldn’t wait to end the call. I’ve been out of my mind ever since.’ Jack swept a hand through his hair and paced back and forth. ‘Can’t you see what you’ve done is cruel, just leaving me hanging, not knowing what you were thinking? I love you, Becks. That night I was asking to spend the rest of my life with you! So why did you run off?’

  ‘I didn’t,’ she replied, trying to remain calm. ‘If you remember, I was always catching a flight to England the next day. I just decided to get on an earlier plane, that’s all.’

  ‘Come on! This is me you’re talking to! Don’t fob me off.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry. I guess –’ she searched for the right words – ‘I got frightened. Marriage is kind of a huge deal and we’ve had some problems lately.’

  ‘What problems? I didn’t think we had problems, otherwise I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me that night.’

  ‘Well –’ she took a deep breath – ‘it’s the drugs issue, Jack. It’s been bad the past few months.’

  ‘What? Goddammit, Becks! I can’t believe you think I have a problem. Most of Hollywood is using on some level. It’s normal. You’re making me out to be some kind of addict!’

  ‘I’m sorry, I just hate it, that’s all.’

  ‘Surely everyone’s entitled to a little fun occasionally? Especially while I’m going through a rough patch with my career. But, of course, you wouldn’t know about that, would you?’ he remarked bitchily.

  ‘Jack, please try to understand that I just needed some time to think. When I got off the plane here, I was greeted by a whole heap of journalists congratulating me on my engagement. I felt blindsided.’ Rebecca wrung her hands in despair. ‘Did you announce to the media we were engaged?’

  ‘No, I didn’t say anything!’

  ‘Really? So where did they get your quotes from?’

  ‘Where they usually get them, honey, as you well know. From my publicist, who went off the reservation with this thing.’ Jack rolled his eyes. ‘Come on, Becks, don’t act all naive. You know how it works and I’m hurt you could have blamed me.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, lost for anything else to say.

  ‘But you know what really bugs me?’ He stood, glaring, in front of her. ‘Even if I had confirmed that I’d asked you to marry me, would that really have been so bad? I mean, I guess I got it wrong. I was kind of hoping you’d be happy.’

  ‘It’s a big decision and—’

  ‘Well, you’ve sure had plenty of space and time here. So, can I ask if you’ve reached a decision?’

  Rebecca remained silent, struggling with how to reply.

  ‘Okay,’ Jack sighed. ‘I guess that response says it all. And that guy I saw all over you in the car – he’s been comforting you while you decide, I take it?’

  ‘No! James is an actor in the film. He’s nice. I like him, but I’ve hardly even seen him off set. He asked me out for something to eat tonight and that’s as far as it’s gone.’

  Jack stared at her. ‘And you really expect me to believe that? Screwing your co-star on location is the oldest story in the book. Don’t patronise me by denying it. I turn up here after two weeks of silence from my girl and find her in the arms of another man. What am I supposed to think? You can’t seriously expect me to believe that the two things aren’t related?’

  ‘Well, I can assure you they’re not,’ Rebecca reiterated, exhausted now. ‘Ask Mrs Trevathan, if you want, she knows I’ve been here every night. I know how it must look to you, Jack, but it’s simply not the truth.’

  ‘Christ, you’re even sounding different. That English accent of yours is another thing you seem to have acquired since you’ve been over here.’

  They both sat in silence for a while, stung by each other’s words. ‘So you’re saying that we’re still together?’ Jack said finally.

  ‘Yes, everyone here knows we are.’

  ‘The question is, Becks, do you know? Have you made up your mind yet about my proposal? Because you sure as hell have had enough time to think about it now. And if it’s a “yes”, it might go some way to convincing me you haven’t been screwing that actor guy either.’

  Rebecca’s mind was a jumble of confused thoughts. ‘I . . .’ She put her fingers to her temple. ‘Jack, I’m still in shock from your being here. Can we just both calm down and talk about this tomorrow, when we’ve had some sleep? I’ve been sick with a terrible migraine and—’

  ‘Please don’t play the sympathy card on me, Becks. You were well enough to take a trip out to dinner with lover boy earlier. Okay –’ Jack sighed – ‘I think I’ve seen all I need to. I guess the best thing for me to do would be to head back home.’

  ‘Jack, please! Don’t go,’ she begged. ‘We need to sort this out. Just because I ran scared about your marriage proposal doesn’t mean I’ve decided we’re over. One of our problems is that we never have enough time or privacy to really talk to each other. You’re always in one place and I’m in another. Right now, we actually have those things. For both our sakes, don’t you think we should take advantage of that?’

  Jack slumped onto the sofa next to her and shook his head. ‘I don’t know what I want at this moment, Becks. Marrying you was the one thing keeping me going. My career is a mess, the good parts aren’t coming in like they used to, I’m starting to think maybe I’m all washed up. I –’

  Jack began to weep. Rebecca reached over and took him in her arms.

  ‘I’m sorry, Jack, I really am. Of course you’re not washed up. You’ve just been going through a rough patch, which I’m sure will happen to me in the future.’

  ‘Yeah, but you’ve got a good few years ahead playing the lead, whereas I’m obviously past that point. And yes,’ he admitted, ‘I probably have been using too much recently, but I swear, Becks, I’m not an addict. I’ve just been feeling kind of down lately and wanted a quick fix. You believe me, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I believe you,’ Rebecca answered. What else could she say? She’d been on the back foot since the moment Jack had appeared at Astbury.

  ‘And it hurts me, Becks, hurts me bad that you obviously didn’t think I was serious when I asked you to be my wife. That you felt I was playing a game, and you don’t realise how much I love you.’

  Rebecca stroked his hair gently. ‘I’m sorry for hurting you, Jack. I really am.’

  ‘Thanks. I could really use a drink. Any alcohol in this godforsaken pla
ce?’

  ‘If there is, I wouldn’t know where to find it. Why don’t we go upstairs and try to get some sleep? We can talk some more tomorrow, although I’m due on set early.’

  ‘If you’re sure you want me back in your bed,’ he shrugged. ‘And you can swear to me that you haven’t been screwing that actor as much as you like, because as sure as hell the rest of the cast and crew will know and I won’t hang around to be a laughing stock.’

  ‘No, Jack,’ Rebecca replied wearily, ‘I swear that I haven’t.’

  Eventually, Jack gave a flicker of a smile. ‘I guess I’m going to have to believe you. So, take me up to your tower, fair maiden, where I intend to make up for lost time.’ He drew Rebecca to him and kissed her.

  ‘Come on, let’s go,’ she said, taking his hands and pulling him up from the sofa. ‘The chances are that Mrs Trevathan is still around somewhere. She refuses to go to bed until everyone else has.’ Rebecca led him along the maze of shadowy corridors until they arrived in the entrance hall. Mrs Trevathan appeared like a ghost beside them. ‘Is your . . . friend wishing to stay the night?’ she enquired.

  ‘Yes, if that’s okay with you and Anthony,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘Well, I can hardly ask His Lordship for permission at this time of night, can I? He’ll be tucked up in bed and fast asleep. I will, of course, tell him in the morning of your young man’s presence in the house. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight, ma’am, and thank you. I’m sorry to have made such a racket earlier.’ Jack gave her one of his legendary killer smiles, but Mrs Trevathan’s expression remained unmoved.

  ‘Jesus, she’s a weird one, isn’t she?’ Jack said when they’d gone upstairs and were behind Rebecca’s closed bedroom door. ‘Hey, is there really no lock on that door?’ he asked from where he was sitting on the bed.

  ‘Sadly not,’ Rebecca replied, feeling suddenly awkward as Jack reached out his arms to her.

 

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