He nodded slowly, seeming to enjoy this idea more with each moment. “Yeah, that’s a wrap.”

Talia looked from one of them to the other before shrugging. “Call time’s 6 a.m. tomorrow in the stables by the abbey with Tommy. Then Sophia’s in at eight o’clock.”

They had assistants to make these sorts of announcements, but Sophia suspected Talia had already realised Brian didn’t listen to assistants. If she wanted to take on the role of cat herder in addition to screenwriter and producer, that was probably for the best, but Sophia was interested in herding only one person right now. She quickly sidestepped several crew members in an attempt to intercept Victoria, who was already headed toward the door.

“Your Ladyship,” she called just before she got away.

“Ms. LeBlanc.” Vic returned the formal greeting.

“I hoped to speak with you about a few things regarding my character motivation.”

“Right now?”

“If you’re free, or perhaps over dinner again this evening? You wouldn’t have to cook. I could have something delivered, either to my trailer or to my room.”

Vic’s smile faltered. “Today isn’t good for me. Perhaps we could meet at the stable tomorrow morning and discuss your concerns before filming commences.”

That wouldn’t be nearly private enough for the conversation she wanted to have, and she suspected Vic knew as much. Sophia had offered many similar redirects over the years, but she’d rarely needed to circumvent one. She had no backup plan and felt more than a little caught off guard by needing one. “If that’s all you’ve got to give me.”

A little muscle in Vic’s jaw twitched, but she gave a curt nod.

Then she bolted around the corner, and from the sound of her footsteps, she hightailed it all the way to another wing of the castle.

“You’re playing with fire.”

She turned to find Talia leaning against a camera dolly, arms folded across her chest.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Don’t go all Scarlett O’Hara on me. I’ve worked with you before. You never showed a lick of interest in anyone else on the set.”

“You’re the one who told me to enjoy my date the other night. What if I merely heeded your advice?”

“You’re not looking at our host like someone who’s developed a little crush. You’re eyeing her like a hyena might size up a wounded gazelle.”

“Oh Tal, this is why you’re the writer and I merely read the lines.”

“Flattery is much appreciated, but not enough to redirect me. Whatever you’re after with Vic, it’s not going to end well.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s a good person, and you’re . . .”

“Not?” The implication stung, and Talia must’ve seen it.