Easy on the snark, Margot!
This guy did get us out of a very tight spot. Last week the owner of the north London mansion we’d rented backed out, and our show found itself homeless. He paid the cancelation fee all right, but what good was a fee to us with no home for our production? We searched high and low, but we couldn’t find any suitable venues in time for the announced performance dates. We were on the verge of calling off the show, issuing refunds, and scrambling for gigs to pay rent.
That’s when Count Jonas d’Alenq swept in and made all our troubles go away.
When he straightens up, a sly smile is playing across his chiseled face. “I apologize for my tardiness. It won’t happen again.”
He sounds friendly enough, but his expression lacks something you’d expect in these circumstances, something that should be illuminating his gaze…warmth. It lacks warmth.
With his smile still crinkling the skin around his sexy mouth, he adds, “Please, call me Jonas.”
“OK, Jonas!” many of my colleagues respond.
Others in the group say, “Hi, Jonas!”
He glances at Sandra. “I thought this would make the transition easier.”
Nodding, Sandra turns to the rest of us. “Jonas is joining the cast for the pilot week.”
A surprised murmur ripples through the troupe.
“Who will you play? Has it been decided?” people ask.
Jonas and Sandra exchange another look.
She raises a hand to command attention. “Jonas will play Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
What in the world?
Everybody looks around searching for Nat, our dashing Mr. Darcy. He doesn’t seem to be in the room.
“He left this morning,” Sandra says.
A chorus of appalled reactions fills the room.
In response, Sandra adds, “He was let go with full pay and a very handsome check from Jonas.”
We shift our reproachful gazes to the culprit.
The rich toff gives a shrug. “He took it. And I really wanted Darcy’s part.”
CHAPTER2
MARGOT
Despite a few giggles, most of the actors, techs and musicians look morose. Resentful, even. We liked Nat. It feels wrong that he was paid to bugger off to make room for our titled and entitledsavior.
The latter surveys us, his eyes narrowing as he reads the room.
“Nat and I parted on excellent terms,” he says. “And I won’t ruin your show, I promise! I have taken acting classes and played in amateur shows. And I’ve memorized all Darcy’s lines from the script.”
Sandra rewards him with a smile. “Liam and I viewed a couple of your performances. You’ll do.”
“He will without a doubt!” Liam joins in, a little too eagerly perhaps. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask why this room is called ‘Sky Hall.’”
I know Liam is trying to change the topic and preempt any further inquiry into Jonas’s qualifications and the irregular circumstances under which he got the part. A shame because those are valid questions. But, I must admit, so is Liam’s.
Jonas points to the ceiling above our heads. “Because of that fresco.”
