by Diane Darcy
“Mm-hmm. Trying to get a feel for costumes in the upcoming scenes.” He threw the script on the table. “They need a new title. Rupert the Brave, Wallace the Traitor is just lame. But the hanging is going to be gruesome, so there’s that. Anyway, what’s new?”
She gave him an arch look. “Princess Pat didn’t eat breakfast this morning.”
Nate straightened, swallowed, scowled. “That’s just great, isn’t it?”
Cara laughed, opened the nuts and dumped them onto her oatmeal, followed by the apples. She poured a little milk on the concoction, and stirred the whole thing. “Maybe she had something to eat in her trailer before she came out here?”
“Doubtful,” Nate took another bite and spoke with his mouth full. “The day she arrived, she had her assistant remove her goodie basket. Said she couldn’t afford to gain any weight after losing five pounds at that spa in Switzerland.”
“Oh, boy,” Cara dug into her oatmeal. If she was going to be dealing with a hungry actress for the next couple of hours, she, at least, needed her strength.
After a moment, she asked, “Are they still filming the ballroom scene today?”
“Yes, I checked the schedule. I’m going to need some more extras. Are you in?”
“Sure, if I can.”
“All right. After you finish with Patrice, go by the tent and get in costume.”
“Will do.”
“Luckily the jewelry I need was overnighted from London.” He suddenly turned his entire body toward her. “You’re not going to believe this, but one of the pieces is real. We got it from Stan Myers on Bond Street. They had a guy drive it out, and he watched me put it in the safe. He’s waiting around for us to be done with it, and then he’s taking it back. Crazy, right? It came with a piece of paper authenticating it, with a short history.”
“What did it say?”
“I don’t know, it has something to do with the characters in the film.”
“What do you mean? Like it was owned by the Dinsdales or Wolfsbanes?”
Nate snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Something like that. I asked the guy why they were letting us use it when we could just as easily use costume jewelry. He said with the movie coming out, and especially if it was featured, they’d be able to sell it for more money than they could get for it right now.”
“Huh. Well, I can’t wait to see it.”
They finished up breakfast, threw the trash in a nearby garbage can, and both headed toward the rows of tents set up with the tricks of their trade.
They arrived at the makeup trailer first. “Wish me luck,” Cara whispered.
“Good luck. As soon as you have her hair and makeup done, send her my way.”
“Will do.”
Cara walked up the three steps and opened the door to the trailer. Patrice was lying back in the salon chair, getting a few stray eyebrows plucked by Harper, Cara’s assistant.
“Good morning!” Cara said, as she carefully shut the trailer door behind her.
“Is it?” Patrice responded, not even bothering to open her eyes. Since Cara was used to the terrible attitude, she just smiled.
“It’s a sunny day. That means you’ll be able to get a lot of filming done. I’m just glad the rain has passed.”
Patrice snorted.
Cara went to the sink and washed and dried her hands. “Nate says we’re on for the ballroom scene. The dress is gorgeous, and we’re going with long crimped hair and evening makeup. You’ll look like a princess when it’s all said and done.”
Harper shot her a quick glance, and Cara almost flinched after saying “princess”, but it didn’t seem to rattle Patrice, so she supposed she hadn’t heard the nickname yet. Cara would have to be more careful.
Or, maybe Patrice had heard the moniker and accepted the title as her due. Who knew with her?
“All done,” Harper said before moving her rolling chair backward and helping Patrice sit up.
The woman was gorgeous, Cara had to give her that. Long dark hair surrounded a tiny pixie face which featured large blue eyes with naturally thick lashes. She was only of medium height, but so slender, she seemed taller.
“Where is Jackson?”
“I haven’t seen him yet.”
“He’s probably out stuffing his face.”
Cara doubted that. Most everyone in this crowd watched their weight, including the men. But Patrice was probably hostile toward her co-star because he’d turned her down flat yesterday when she’d invited the man to dine.
Everyone had heard about it.
Cara made a noncommittal noise, opened a makeup box and settled herself on a stool across from Patrice.
Accustomed to the set-up, Patrice turned her face toward the light.
“Your skin is glowing.”
Patrice suddenly looked vulnerable, her gaze meeting Cara’s and in a flash, Cara saw something more there, an awareness and intelligence she hadn’t associated with the actress before.
Clutching the moisturizer, pausing mid-air, Cara shot the other woman a questioning look, and the mirage vanished, like a mask slipping back into place.
“Just make sure I look better than Olivia and Emily,” her tone was caustic.
Cara grinned, chalking the moment up to her imagination, and concentrated on her task, confident in her skills. “No need to worry about that. No one on this set has your bone structure or skin.”
Again, it was the right thing to say, and Patrice eased back in her chair and relaxed.
Cara met Harper’s amused gaze over the top of Patrice’s head and, biting her lip, quickly turned to set out the cosmetics she wanted for the upcoming scene.
Patrice might not be her favorite person, but she’d make her look beautiful. Stunning even.
It was her own reputation on the line after all.
Chapter 2
Scotland, 1260. Outside Stirling Castle
Cold hatred powered through him.
If Wallace of Wolfsbane had aught to say about it, Sir Rupert of Dinsdale was dead, dead, dead.
The thought of the other man’s lifeblood flowing into the dirt as his greedy father, Lord Dinsdale, watched, stripped of his heir, was the only matter at hand.
He released a hiss of breath. This confrontation had taken two years of planning, petitions to the king, witnesses and friends arguing in his favor.
The fact that it was finally here, that family honor would be avenged on this field of grass was a relief, but his mouth tightened as he ran through the litany of Lord Dinsdale’s sins, keeping the fire stoked within him.
The Dinsdales had taken much.
Husband and father.
The Wolfsbane name that had meant so much to their family for generations, stained.
Their honor questioned.
Their lands confiscated.
They were fortunate to possess one last roof over their heads, and now, with Sir Rupert in his sights, before God and King, revenge and reparation would finally be his.
Wallace looked toward King Henry, sitting on a dais beside the young Scottish king, whose attention was caught by the even younger mistress at his side.
He ground his teeth. The royals weren’t paying attention, more interested in the fair, the amusements, and the aristocracy gathered around them. Laughing, eating, talking, going from event to event.
His family, their hardships, were inconsequential to this lot.
As his mount stamped dirt, Wallace gripped the reins tightly in one hand, adjusting the lance in the other. He’d waited this long; he could certainly wait for the king’s permission.
This would be perfectly executed, with no chance for Lord Dinsdale to call foul, or to discredit after the fact.
Besides, it gave Sir Rupert time to sweat.
A slither of dark and unholy amusement snaked through him. Though the other man tried to hide it, Wallace could see fear, or mayhap it was resignation, in the set of the man’s shoulders, in his tightly held lance, the stiffness of his body.
Sir Rupert was strong, good in a fight, but nowhere near Wallace’s caliber, and there was not a man, or a woman among those assembled who did not know it.
Even from this distance Wallace could tell Sir Rupert wore Wolfsbane armor, no doubt scavenged from one of the properties his father had stolen.
No doubt meant as an insult.
It would be his last.
When Wallace won, even the king would have to declare Wolfsbane honor restored.
And Sir Rupert would be dead.
Grim satisfaction rolled through him as his mount stamped impatiently, making the leather underneath his own chainmail squeak.
Of inferior quality, his armor was the best he’d been able to scrape together, and he knew from the looks from other nobles, and the whispers behind their hands, they discussed just how far he’d fallen.
Hate bubbled within him, and when he tightened his legs, his well-trained mount skittered about, letting him know.
He forced himself to relax. This would be over soon enough.
Their downfall had been deliberate, ruthless, and even Wallace had to admit — well thought out.
Whispers in the king’s ear, tales of treason, lies about taxes.
Never let it be said Wallace couldn’t learn from harsh lessons.
With his mother’s guidance, he’d learned to play the game. Intrigues, whispers, petitions, flattery. After his father’s death, he’d had much responsibility placed upon his shoulders.
Even as he’d scrambled to cobble together a home for his mother, sisters, and dependents, he’d had time to think.
Time to plan.
Time to play off the king’s vanity and avarice.
And, eventually, though he could not get to the father, he’d positioned the son exactly where he’d wanted him.
In front of the king.
In front of everyone.
With no way out.
Chapter 3
When Cara finished applying Patrice’s makeup, the woman wanted to take a break before going to costuming.
A break from what? Cara’s lips tilted as she carefully put the foundation, eyeshadow, and lip creams back in their assigned spots.
She closed the makeup box and wheeled her chair away. Standing, she shrugged her aching shoulders, and nodded to Harper. “Have you got this?” She nodded toward Patrice, who was now lying on her back, hands on her stomach, on the twin-size bed installed for her benefit.
She looked like a beautiful corpse.
Harper, grabbing a water bottle from the fridge, nodded.
Cara exited the trailer, glad for the chance to beat Patrice to costuming so she could get a look at the necklace the actress was going to wear in the next scene.
She hurried over to the tent set up for wardrobe, ducked inside, and moved around three actresses dressing in period clothing. “I’m an extra today.”
“Help yourself,” one of the girls waved a hand. “Anything on that rack.”
Cara quickly found a gown, a heavy, red brocade with long sleeves and a rounded neckline. If she was trying on the necklace, she wanted to showcase it.
After dressing, she hurried to find Nate, who was separating costumes into piles. “Hey.”
He glanced up and took in her costume. “Hey, yourself.”
“You look busy.”
“Give me a good contemporary romance movie over a historical any day of the week.”
“Are you ready for a break?”
He grinned. “You want to see the necklace, don’t you?”
“This might be my only opportunity.”
After a quick look around, he grinned. “Okay, follow me, but if you tell anyone about this, I’ll deny everything.”
“About what?”
His grin widened. “Exactly.”
They made their way to the exit at the back of the tent, and came out at another row of trailers.
He led her to one, took a key out of his pocket, opened the door, flipped on the light, and gestured her inside.
“The movie is set during the 1200s. They did tests on the necklace, and it’s authentic to the time period.”
There were stacks of clothing on a small bed, a desk with a computer set against one wall, and a couple of duffel bags on the floor. She could see cereal boxes in an open cupboard. There was a small fridge in one corner, and on top, a small safe.
“What’s to stop someone from breaking in here and simply taking the safe?”
Nate shrugged. “It’s not as if I’m telling everyone about the necklace, and even if I did,” he jingled the keys, “I’m the only one with a set, and there’s a guard nearby.”
Nate bent over and punched in a code to the safe, opened it, and pulled out a big black box. He turned in her direction, and slowly lifted the lid.
Cara gasped and put a hand to her chest. “Oh, wow, are you kidding me right now?” she asked.
Nate chuckled. “You’re such a girl. I had a bet with myself that you’d gasp out loud when you saw it.”
She didn’t even look at him, couldn’t look away from the gleaming necklace. “And you didn’t?”
“Are you kidding me? And lose my man card?”
She finally glanced up. “There’s such a thing as a man card? And they let you have one?”
“Oh, you’re hilarious. Do you want to try this on, or what?”
Her eyes strayed to the piece of jewelry once more. It could be called gaudy, simply because of the size. Pearls, diamonds, and rubies caught the light from the fixture above them, lustrous, practically glowing. The blue stone hanging at the bottom was the size of a silver dollar. “What kind of jewel is this?” she asked, running her thumb over the top.
A tingle went up her arm.
“I don’t know,” he pulled out the piece of paper folded into the black velvet lid. “Here’s the information.”
Cara took the paper and turned so the light shone on it.
“The Heart of Eternity was originally commissioned by William de Warrenne for his new bride. In 1160, the piece was eventually sold to cover gambling debts, then it disappeared for a time until it ended up in the coffers of the church during the early middle ages.
In 1262, the necklace was given to Lady Amelia Dinsdale, upon the birth of her first son.
It disappeared for a long while until Heinrick Wilhelm von Hassell, a German merchant, sold it in 1833 to Louis Phillipe I, who bought it for his mistress.”
“It disappeared again, and was rediscovered in 1854 when millionaire William Backhouse Astor Jr. purchased it for his wife at auction in New York City.”
Eyes wide, she glanced up and met Nate’s gaze. “It says the stone is a sapphire.”
“Let’s sell it!” Nate grinned.
They both laughed.
“Were you serious about letting me try it on?”
“Only if you can keep your mouth shut about it.”
“And you’ll take my picture?”
Nate rolled his eyes. “You mean the picture you can never show to anyone?”
“That’s the one,” she said, and reached inside the velvet interior and carefully, oh, so carefully, took out the necklace.
Nate set the box down and she held the pendant in her palm as she flashed the piece this way and that, the radiant colors catching the light once more.
She liked jewelry as much as the next girl, and wore it often, but there was just something about this piece that called to her. “How much is it worth?” she asked.
Nate scoffed as he reached for it. “More than you’ll make in this lifetime, so it doesn’t matter.”
She turned around and he lifted the necklace above her head, lowering it to her neck. She pulled her blonde hair to one side so he could clasp it.
“All done.”
She turned around and smiled, liking the feel of the jewelry, cool on her skin, and the swirl of her skirts against her legs. “Medieval times must have been incredibly glamourous. What do you think?”
“I think it’ll look great onscreen.”
She lifted the pendant. “It really is beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It is, and so are you.”
Startled by Nate’s statement, she glanced up, and before she could move, he took a quick step closer, lowered his head, and kissed her.
Gripping the pendant in one hand, she stood stunned as he moved his mouth on hers. After a moment, Nate lifted his head gauging her reaction.
Cara blinked rapidly. “Uh, Nate? Is there something you want to tell me?”
As startled as she was by the kiss, she couldn’t say she was surprised by his feelings. They’d flirted and laughed together, in a friendly way, consulted on makeup and costume, and generally had fun together.
She still hadn’t been expecting it.
“I really like you, Cara. You’re a lot of fun.”
She swallowed at the sudden tension in the air. She wished she liked him back, but, he was definitely just a friend. She wanted excitement, emotion, the shivery feels. She wanted a long-lasting love like her parents had, and didn’t want to settle. Barring that, she liked being free and unencumbered.
“I like you too, Nate.”
He studied her face. “But not in the same way?”
She really, really didn’t want to lose his friendship. He was one of the bright spots on this trip to Scotland, someone she wouldn’t mind working with again.
But she didn’t have those types of feelings for him, and it wouldn’t be fair to either of them if she said she did. “Nate, I’m sorry.”
Nate’s lips twisted, and his face took on a slightly cruel expression. “Sorry for what?” His tone hardened. “We’ve been having some good times, haven’t we?”
She felt pressured, and didn’t like it. “Of course, we have.”
“Why not make it more fun?”
She couldn’t believe he was going to keep pushing. She didn’t want to say something they’d both regret but she wasn’t going end up in a relationship with the guy simply because she didn’t want to upset him or hurt his feelings. “I’m kind of liking things the way they are.”
Nate suddenly gripped her shoulders and swooped in for another kiss.