“Jane and I got close these past weeks and—” Martin began.
“Got close.That’s a load of duff. It’s one thing when you’re toying with the dowagers who know what you are, but someone as openhearted and idealistic as Jane should be off-limits.” He turned to Jane. “You can’t believe a word he says. I tried to warn you to stay away from him because he’s the worst sort of cad. But I didn’t realize until after you’d left that you might not have known the whole truth. You see, Martin is actually an actor.”
“Yeah,” Jane said.
Nobley blinked. “Oh.”
“So, what are you doing here?” She couldn’t help it if her tone sounded a little tired. This was becoming farcical.
“I came to tell you that I—” He rushed to speak, then composed himself, looked around, and stepped closer to her so he did not need to raise his voice to be heard. The brunette leaned forward.
“I apologize for having to tell you here, in this busy, dirty . . . This is not the scene I would set, but you must know that I . . .” He took off his cap and rubbed his hair ragged. “I’ve been working at Pembrook Park for nearly four years. All the women I see, week after week, they’re the same. Nearly fromthe first, that morning when we were alone in the park, I guessed that you might be different. You were sincere.”
He reached for her hand. He seemed to gain confidence, his lips started to smile, and he looked at her as though he never wished to look away. Her heart started to soften and got dangerously close to melting, so she pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow, refusing to be gullible again.
Martin groaned in mockery. Nobley immediately stuck his cap on and stepped back, and he seemed unsure if he’d been too forward, if he should still play by the rules.
“I know you have no reason to believe me, but I wish you would. Last night in the library, I wanted to tell you how I felt. I started to. But I let myself speak the same tired sort of proposal I used on everyone. You were right to reject me. It was a proper slap in the face. No one had ever said no before. You made me sit up and think. Well, I didn’t want to think much, at first. But after you left this morning, I asked myself, are you going to let her go just because you met her while acting a part?” Nobley paused as if waiting for the answer.
“Oh, come on, Janie,” said Martin. “You’re not going to buy this from him.”
“Don’t talk to me like we’re friends. You . . . you were paid to kiss me! And it was a game, a joke on me, you disgusting lurch. You’ve got no right to call meJanie. I’m Miss Erstwhile to you.”
“Don’t give me that.” Martin’s patience was fraying. “You’d have to be dense not to see that all of Pembrook Park is one big drama. You were acting, too, just like the rest of us, having a fling on holiday, weren’t you? And it’s not as though kissing you was grotty.”
“Grotty?”
“I’m saying it wasn’t.” Martin paused and appeared to be putting back on his romancing-the-woman persona. “I enjoyed it, all of it. Well, except for the root beer. And if you’re going to write that book, you should know that I believe what we had was real.”
The brunette sighed wistfully. Jane glared at her as if to say, “Come on, sister, you’re better than this.”
“We had something real,” Nobley said, starting to sound a little desperate. “You must have felt it, seeping through the costumes and pretenses.”
The brunette nodded earnestly.
“Seeping through the pretenses ?? Listen to him, he’s still acting.” Martin turned to the brunette in search of an ally.
“Do I detect any jealousy there, my flagpole-like friend?” Nobley said. “Still upset that you weren’t cast as a gentleman? You do make a very good gardener.”
Martin took a swing. Nobley ducked and rammed into his body, pushing them both to the ground. The brunette squealed and bounced on the balls of her feet.
“Stop it!” Jane pulled at Nobley and then slipped. He put out an arm and caught her midfall.
“Here, let me . . .” Nobley tried to give her a hand up and push Martin away at the same time.
“Get off me,” Martin said. “I’ll help her.”
He kicked Nobley in the rear, followed by some awkward swatting of hands. Jane planted her feet, grabbed Nobley’s arm, and pulled him off. Martin was still swiping at Nobley from the ground. Nobley’s cap fell off, and then his trench coat twisted over the head of Martin, who batted at it wildly.
“Cut it out!” Jane said, pushing Nobley back and putting herself between them. Now that she was in the middle ofbrawling beaus, she felt more like a teacher stopping a schoolboy scuffle than a treasured ingenue.
“M-M-Martin’s gay!” Nobley said.
“I am not! You’re thinking of Edgar.”
“Who the hell is Edgar?”
“You know, that other gardener, who always smells of fish.” “Oh, right.”
