Mr. Goldman muttered a string of swear words, some of which I’d never heard before. Then he said, “Well, maybe it’s not such a bad idea after all. I’m not getting a good feeling here. It’s not going well. Maybe we all need a break. Okay. Listen up, everyone. I’ve made up my mind. I’m taking you all up to the castle.”

“All of us?” Stella asked. “And your wife too?”

“Sure. Why not? It’s a big place. Plenty of bedrooms, Stella honey. Give you a chance to relax and settle down. It won’t be wasted time. We can do some read-throughs and blocking with Craig. Is he still in his trailer?”

“I believe so, Mr. Goldman.”

“Then maybe Georgie would like to go and tell him the plan. He was asking about you, Georgie.”

“Craig? Mr. Hart, you mean? Asking for me?” I stammered. “What did he want?”

“Missing you, I guess.” And he gave me a wink.

“Golly,” I said.

“Tell him we’ll work here on set Friday morning, then drive up to the castle Friday afternoon. Got it?”

“I’ll show you where the trailers are,” Ronnie said, escorting me to the door. I followed, rather stunned by everything that had happened and by the suggestion that Craig Hart—internationally adored heartthrob—wanted to see me. Surely not when my mother was available. When every woman between fifteen and fifty was available? I gave a little grin, but then I paused to think. These film stars were notorious womanizers. Was Craig Hart expecting to find me his next willing victim? Was he interested in the challenge of an English virgin?

“You’d better come with me to the trailer,” I said to Ronnie. “Protocol at home would demand that I didn’t go into a gentleman’s trailer alone.”

Ronnie laughed. “How refreshingly quaint,” he said. “Lady Georgiana, I think you should know . . .” He broke off as he saw Craig himself coming toward us.

“Well, hello there, you lovely creature,” he said in that deep, rumbling voice that had melted a million women’s hearts. “I was just coming to find you to tell you I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. Have the driver take you home early enough so you can make yourself beautiful, okay, sweetheart?”

I saw a look of amusement cross Ronnie’s face. Was he relishing Craig’s next conquest? Still I didn’t want to say no. What girl would? But I wasn’t quite so naïve these days. I did know that when men invited me up to their room to show me their etchings it wasn’t a discussion on art that they were after. I’d go to a restaurant with him but that would be all. And I’d make sure to tell him about Darcy. Of course I would. . . .