Playing the Part

by Jen Turano

  “I do beg your pardon, Miss Sonnenberg, but I’ve run short on tea. May I borrow some?” Lowering the script, she glanced his way, and he couldn’t be certain, given the disgusting amount of smudges on the lenses of her spectacles, but he thought she sent him a wink right as Miss Dunlap began marching across the stage again.

  “You need to put some emotion into that line, Miss Fuddlecakes,” Miss Dunlap proclaimed. “I want to feel the anguish you’re experiencing over not having any tea at your disposal.”

  “It’s Fremont, Miss Dimplekins, and I’ll see what I can do.” Spinning around, Lucetta marched off the stage again, reappearing ten seconds later through a door Archibald was once again holding open for her, although to Bram’s eye, it almost seemed as if Archibald was beginning to have a difficult time maintaining the dignified demeanor of a butler. After Lucetta flounced through the door, he had to turn his back to the audience as his shoulders took to shaking suspiciously.

  Taking her spot on stage, Lucetta spoke her lines, and . . . was sent back by Miss Dunlap to do it all over again.

  Bram could only watch in stunned incredulity as Lucetta was sent back time after time as Miss Dunlap lamented the sorry state of Lucetta’s acting abilities. To Lucetta’s credit, she didn’t bother arguing with the ridiculousness of the situation, she just kept smiling and marching on and off the stage with increasing frequency. By the fifth time, though, Bram noticed that the marching was beginning to turn more into stomps, and Lucetta’s smile didn’t exactly come across as being all that pleasant, especially since whatever she’d used to blacken her teeth seemed to be slipping, and . . . it made for a most interesting sight.

  Just when he thought Lucetta might have had quite enough of the irritating Miss Dunlap, that woman declared she thought Lucetta might be improving, if only a little bit, so because of that, and because she’d proven herself willing to take direction, she had won the role of Mrs. Nesbit.

  Grinning in pure delight after hearing that news, Lucetta practically skipped right off the stage.

  As he watched the back of her skirt vanish from sight, Bram suddenly realized that the woman who’d just been absolutely thrilled to win a two-line part in a local play was, without a doubt, the real Lucetta Plum, and . . . she was absolutely nothing like he’d imagined her to be.

  She wasn’t possessed of a delicate or whimsical nature, wasn’t fragile in the least, and . . .

  He found her absolutely fascinating.

  She had a wicked sense of humor, a keen intellect, no vanity at all when it came to her appearance, and . . . she was the heroine gothic novels deserved, the heroine of the future, and . . .

  She was the heroine he needed to include in his next novel—a novel that would, hopefully, bring fresh life to the Mr. Grimstone books he’d been penning for years.

  The story he’d been struggling to write for months now suddenly didn’t seem all that daunting as ideas flowed through his thoughts, ideas that he’d begun to formulate the day before when he’d been with Ruby, but ideas that hadn’t fully festered as much as he’d needed them to fester.

  A sense of relief traveled over him as he realized he might not be completely washed up as an author after all, an idea he’d been considering quite seriously after his editor had been less than pleased with the manuscript he’d sent him a few months back—a manuscript that had been returned to him a few days before Lucetta had arrived at Ravenwood with enough suggestions written all over it that there were barely any empty spots on the pages.

  Phrases like doesn’t move the story forward, heroine quite bland, and you’ve written this same story before but with different characters had been scrawled in the margins by Bram’s editor, and . . . that man had been exactly right.

  Ever since Bram had seen Lucetta take to the stage three years before, he’d been writing all of his heroines with her as his inspiration, but that inspiration had never been a flesh-and-blood woman—she’d been a fantasy he’d created. That fantasy woman, however, couldn’t hold up book, after book, after book, because, well, quite honestly, perfection got a little boring after a while, which was . . .

  “Bram . . . over here.”

  Blinking out of his thoughts, he looked to the right and found Lucetta stepping through a door that led to the backstage area.

  “What are you doing?” he asked as he joined her.

  “I slipped away to warn you about something rather disturbing.”

  “You’ve seen another suit of armor walking about?”

  Her brows drew together. “No, this is more disturbing than even that.” She leaned closer to him. “I’ve discovered that the reason all these young ladies keep showing up here at Ravenwood is because someone has started the rumor that you’re actively searching for a wife, and—this is the worst part—you’d like to complete your search before the holidays.”

  “What?”

  Lucetta took hold of his arm. “Someone is obviously trying to drive you away from Ravenwood, and unfortunately, all the signs point to someone on your staff.”

  “Not that I care to argue with you, but why would anyone choose such a ridiculous way to do that?”

  Shrugging, Lucetta tilted her head. “If I were to hazard a guess, I’d say that the person behind this is getting desperate, probably because the whole ghost about the castle business hasn’t chased you away yet.”

  “The rumors about the ghosts have been swirling for a while. If you’ll recall, they’re what chased the previous owners away.”

  “Which is . . . interesting, now that I think about—”

  “Is someone talking?” Miss Dunlap suddenly called out.

  “We should take this conversation elsewhere,” he whispered.

  Nodding, she took the hand he offered her, and they hurried across the ballroom, slipped out one of the back doors, and headed down a dimly lit hallway. Opening another door, one that led to the silver polishing room, he pulled her inside and flicked on the gas lamp.

  “You have an entire room dedicated to polishing silver?” Lucetta asked, looking around as he closed the door.

  “We mostly use this room to polish and fix up the armor.”

  “Which I’m sure is a most daunting task, but . . .” Lucetta smiled. “Getting back to our conversation, the one about the rumor spreading around that you’re actively searching for a wife, you’re really going to have to be careful around the Tarrytown ladies. From what I overheard, competition is fierce to win your attention, so I wouldn’t suggest you go off and shut yourself away in a storage room with any of them. That could very well see your bachelor days coming to a rapid end.”

  “Aren’t you concerned someone will discover us together?”

  Lucetta rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen a mirror recently, Bram. I don’t believe we have anything to worry about there, but . . . getting back to how I think you should approach the ladies of Tarrytown, you probably . . .”

  As Lucetta continued going on and on about what he should do, in that rather bossy manner he’d never imagined she possessed, he found himself having a bit of a difficult time concentrating on what she was saying. Her lips were moving rapidly, and while he was certain she was probably giving him sound advice, he found himself more concerned with the idea that it seemed to him as if she’d done something to her lips—something that made them seem quite spinster-looking, as if their very plumpness had been squeezed right out of them. The lips he was looking at now truly did seem to belong to a woman who’d sport a wart on her face, but . . . how had she managed to make them appear so unattractive, so . . .

  Taking a step closer to her, he leaned forward, trying to puzzle out the mystery behind her lips. They looked thin, which was very peculiar, although . . . perhaps it was the wart she’d so cleverly put right above the upper lip that was . . .

  “Why are you staring at me like that? Has the wart moved?”

  Dragging his attention away from the wart in question, he looked up and caught her eye through the smudged lenses that he h
ad no idea how she could see out of. Instead of answering her, though, his hand rose, almost of its own accord it seemed, and the next thing he knew, he’d plucked the phony wart straight off her face.

  “What has gotten into you?” she demanded. “I need that wart, and . . . did you just throw that over your shoulder?”

  “It was disgusting,” he said, dusting his hands together, pleased with himself over taking control of the wart even though Lucetta looked about ready to strangle him.

  “It was meant to be disgusting.”

  “Well, now it’s gone.”

  Lucetta let out a grunt before she tried to scoot around him, seemingly intent on looking for the wart he’d just tossed aside. Before she could pass him, though, he reached out, took hold of her shoulders and felt her tense.

  “What are you doing?”

  Instead of answering her, he drew her closer, smiling just a touch when he heard her take a swift intake of breath.

  “Bram . . . really . . . what are you doing?”

  “Trying to figure something out,” he said as he moved one of his hands from her shoulder and used a single finger to take a poke at her lip.

  “It’s still full,” he said, more to himself than to her. He poked it again before he pulled at her lower lip, exposing her teeth in the process. “You no longer appear to be missing your teeth.”

  “Stop that.” She smacked his hand away. “I knew I shouldn’t have snuck that second cookie backstage. It must have knocked the gum off.”

  “You used gum?”

  Lucetta nodded. “I did, Black Jack gum, created by Mr. Thomas Adams, who opened the first gum factory with his sons in 1870, although I suppose now is not actually the time to recite history when faced with such a concerning situation.” She blew out a breath. “I’m normally very careful when I use gum to make it appear as if I’m missing teeth, but I must have swallowed it when I ate that cookie.”

  “Do you think that’ll hurt you?” Bram asked slowly.

  “Hard to know at this point.” She closed her eyes and shook her head a mere moment later. “No, I haven’t read anything regarding a medical condition one can expect after swallowing gum.”

  Bram frowned as Lucetta opened her eyes. “You know it’s really not a normal occurrence for people to be able to summon up random tidbits like that at will, don’t you?”

  A ghost of a smile played around Lucetta’s mouth. “I’ve never claimed to be normal, Bram.”

  That smile struck him straight through his heart.

  It was a genuine smile, with a bit of a self-deprecating edge to it, and . . . Without allowing himself a second to reconsider, he leaned toward her as his hand moved from her shoulder to her waist, and pulling her ever so slowly against him, he lowered his lips to hers.

  17

  Even though a part of Lucetta knew she really shouldn’t be kissing Bram Haverstein in the middle of an isolated storage room, another part of her, the part that seemed to be melting against him, wasn’t allowing her an opportunity to put up much of a fight.

  To complicate the whole melting into him dilemma was the pesky fact that her mind, a part of her that was usually in fine working order, had apparently taken this particular moment to turn rather . . . fuzzy.

  She’d never had a fuzzy mind before, had never known such a thing was even possible, and . . . given that all sense of logic seemed to have absorbed straight into the fuzziness, well, it was . . .

  The distant sound of what she thought might be a door creaking tickled at what little rational thought she had left, but the tickling vanished almost as soon as it had begun, because, well, Bram was kissing her in a rather delicious fashion. And since she’d never been kissed before, even though she was twenty-six years old, and even though everyone assumed her to be a bit of a flirt, an assumption that was completely wrong, well . . .

  “Miss Fremont! What in the world are you doing to poor Mr. Haverstein?”

  For a second, Lucetta found herself wondering who this Miss Fremont was. But then a clear sense of panic struck straight through the fuzziness as Lucetta’s mind snapped back into fine working order and she realized that she was supposed to be Miss Fremont and . . . she and Bram had apparently been found out. Untwining her hands from around Bram’s neck, Lucetta stepped away from him and turned, finding Miss Dunlap, in the company of Miss Cooper, glaring back at her.

  “Ladies, this is an unexpected surprise,” Bram said in a remarkably casual tone of voice, as if he’d not just been discovered in a completely inappropriate situation. Stepping forward, he pulled Lucetta ever so discreetly behind him. “May I assume there’s a perfectly good reason as to why you’ve abandoned the rehearsal?”

  “Miss Cooper and I saw you leaving with Miss Fremont,” Miss Dunlap began. “And quite frankly, we found that to be most suspicious.” She leaned to the right and nodded to Lucetta, who’d taken to watching the conversation unfold from the safety of Bram’s shadow. “Clearly you used some unusual excuse to lure poor Mr. Haverstein away from the ballroom, which you should feel very ashamed about now.” Miss Dunlap switched her attention back to Bram even as she, curiously enough, sent him a beaming smile. “Do know, though, Mr. Haverstein, that we won’t speak a word of this to anyone.”

  “There’s absolutely no reason to keep the matter hush-hush now, Miss Dunlap,” a voice said from the doorway. “Especially since you and Miss Cooper neglected to shut the storage room door behind you.”

  Swinging her attention to the doorway, Lucetta discovered Ruby marching into the room, followed by Mr. Skukman, who at least had the presence of mind to close the door after him, which drew mutters from all the people who’d gathered outside that very door.

  “Oh . . . dear” was all Lucetta was able to utter as Mr. Skukman sent her a quirk of a brow before he took up a position in front of the door in an obvious attempt to keep anyone else from entering the room. Curiously enough, he was looking even more intimidating than usual, what with his hair having lost most of its curl, which gave him a somewhat menacing appearance, and the spectacles he was wearing pushed down past the bridge of his nose as he set his attention on, not Miss Cooper or Miss Dunlap, but Bram.

  It was not reassuring to Lucetta in the least when Mr. Skukman took to cracking his knuckles . . . twice.

  Ruby stepped forward with fists on her hips. “What I find myself compelled to ask, even though I’m sure I’m going to regret the question, is this. . . . What possessed you, Miss Dunlap and Miss Cooper, to sneak off after my brother in the first place?”

  Miss Dunlap lifted her chin. “That’s a little harsh, Miss Haverstein, accusing us of sneaking. We were only looking after your brother’s reputation, because we had a feeling Miss Fremont, being the confirmed spinster type, might very well take it upon herself to get caught with Mr. Haverstein in a compromising situation.”

  Her chin lifted another notch. “Clearly, she’s done just that, but . . .” She suddenly beamed another smile Bram’s way. “The details of what has transpired in this very room are sketchy at best, which means if there are rumors already swirling around about someone being compromised, I would be more than happy to step forward and claim to be that compromised person even though my reputation will surely suffer for it.”

  Silence settled over the room until Miss Cooper started tapping her toe against the stone floor even as her face began to mottle. “Why do you get to step forward and claim to be compromised?” she demanded of Miss Dunlap. “I would be just as willing to step forward as well, and . . .” She looked to Bram and fluttered her lashes. “I believe I would add a welcomed bit of charm to the fairly dark and gloomy nature of Ravenwood.”

  “I’ve always been considered far more charming than you,” Miss Dunlap bit out.

  Deciding that the situation was only going to deteriorate the longer the two ladies were allowed to quibble over who was the most charming, Lucetta stepped forward, intent on intervening.

  “Ladies,” she began with a smile, catching Miss Dunla
p’s eye, “while I’m sure everyone is grateful for your more than generous—”

  “What happened to your teeth?” Miss Dunlap interrupted.

  “My . . . teeth?”

  “You seem to have acquired more of them.”

  Lucetta immediately pressed her lips together. “How very unusual,” she managed to get out through the side of her mouth.

  “Where’s your wart?” Miss Cooper demanded as she, along with Miss Dunlap, inched Lucetta’s way, the ladies’ animosity toward each other apparently forgotten.

  “Uh . . .” Lucetta could think of nothing else to say, but she was spared further response when Bram stepped in front of her again.

  While a part of Lucetta found his actions to be high-handed—especially since she firmly believed she could take care of herself—the other part of her, the part that had recently had her lips firmly attached to Bram’s, well . . . that part of her found his protectiveness rather sweet, even nice, which was quite concerning when she considered the—

  “While I’m very, er, touched,” Bram began, “that the two of you are evidently very worried about my welfare, and my future, from the sound of it, I believe at this point it truly would be for the best for all of us to return to the ballroom and continue on with rehearsal.”

  “But what about . . . her?” Miss Dunlap asked as she craned her neck and set her sights on Lucetta again.

  Lucetta craned her neck right back since Bram refused to budge even when she’d tried to nudge him out of the way. “Since only the two of you saw anything, and you’ve both promised Bram you’re not going to say a word, I say we simply allow everyone their speculations as we go on our merry way and really dig in to the meat of that play.”