The Austen Playbook (London Celebrities #4)(76)

“Fetching a food plate for our lazy resident squid?” Freddy asked bluntly. “Who is a total fiend for shrimp.”

Maya opened her mouth, then closed it. She swallowed.

Freddy took the plate from her before she dropped it as well, and, surveying the options, plunked on a few more spoonfuls from dishes she knew Her Majesty deemed acceptable for consumption. Then she walked over to an unoccupied bench, where they were unlikely to be overheard, and Maya automatically followed her, looking dazed. Freddy handed the full plate back. “What does Sadie have on you?”

She was just about at the end of her rope with the intrigues and skulduggery around this place. What was it about Highbrook? It was like the moment people entered the gates, they tumbled into some weird gameshow. Unethical Choices. Will it be door number one, plagiarism? Does door number two and a spot of adultery tickle your fancy? No, she’s going for door number three. It’s blackmail, folks.

Maya blanched. Bullseye. But under Freddy’s scrutiny, her acting ability made a belated return and her expression smoothed out. Too little, too late, but clearly she didn’t want Freddy’s help or a sympathetic ear. Well, fair enough. It was none of Freddy’s business, and God knew she had no intention of sharing her own tale of Sadie woe with Maya.

All Sadie could do was taunt Freddy, but she’d managed to turn Maya into her unpaid PA. Apparently Maya’s misdemeanour, whatever it was, had worse repercussions for her if Sadie blabbed.

“Sadie asked if I’d mind, since I was coming out here anyway, and I thought it was best for cast relations to just agree,” Maya said firmly, her eyes not quite meeting Freddy’s.

It was true that it was better not to rock the boat at this point. No matter how much you disliked your castmates, on opening night—or only night, in this case—you left that in the wings. The production sailed or sank on the combined efforts of everyone involved.

Freddy still didn’t believe a word Maya was saying. Since she wasn’t going to be a hypocrite and force the issue, she just made a humming noise. “You’re doing brilliantly with Elizabeth.” She directed the conversation into safer territory. “You might have a Darcy who occasionally looks like he has salmonella, but people are going to love your Elizabeth.”

Maya seemed to force her mind back into the present. “I hope so. I love how nuanced you’re making Lydia. She’s really coming alive in your performance.”

“I hope it’s going to go well,” Freddy said, with a renewed flip of nerves in her stomach. With all the balls that were in the air, her attention was divided, but she was increasingly aware of how few hours were left before the cameras went live. And before Fiona Gallagher made her entrance.

“Oh God, so do I. I’m not used to having to combine camera angles with stage positioning, and I avoid interviews like the plague, so I’ve never actually done a live broadcast before. Have you?”

“I did the royal charity performance, but that’s pre-taped. Oh.” Freddy grimaced. “And I did an interview on Nick Davenport’s show.”

Maya’s head jerked. “Right. He’s coming tomorrow. And so is your sister.” Talk about couples growing to look like each other; now they had a green-tinged Elizabeth as well as a sick-looking Darcy. “Um...was it scary? The interview with Nick Davenport?”

Freddy was apprehensive about the live pre-show coverage, as well, but not because she was worried about the interview segments. Sabrina was still off in fairyland about Ferren, who’d obviously snuck off to London to see her a few times this week, and nothing seemed to wind Nick up more than when the tabloids were full of pictures of Sabs and Ferren wrapped around each other in nightclubs. They each liked to remain the most high-profile. Hopeless publicity hounds, the pair of them.

Freddy felt all defensive about them making a scene on Griff’s property.

She seemed to have become the dull, responsible member of the family.

“Not so much scary as irritating,” she said. “I got a grilling about my personal life. Nick decided to push the line that I was shagging Dylan.” Maya shot her a quick look. “God. Give me some credit. Of course I wasn’t.”

Something in Maya’s face, some tiny change, registered, and Freddy froze in the process of weaving her sweaty hair into a plait. “Oh my God. Are you?” It was nosy as fuck, but the question tumbled out before she could stop it, and Maya’s face flushed, deep and ruddy.

“What? No!” Her words stumbled over each other. “God, no. Don’t be silly. I get enough of having to cuddle up to Dylan onstage.”

Freddy stared at her suspiciously, but her attention snagged on the cars rolling up the driveway. She recognised the one in front. “Speaking of the interview segment, here comes half of the chat-show invasion. That’s Sabrina.”

Maya bolted. Just turned and dashed off towards the theatre, still holding Sadie’s plate of food, and Freddy looked after her in astonishment. Jesus. That didn’t bode well for Maya making it through her share of the interview tomorrow.

“If it isn’t my baby sister, the budding TV star.” Sabrina slammed her car door and advanced on Freddy, grinning. Ferren’s sneak visits to London seemed to have put her in a better mood since the last time Freddy had spoken to her.

She wasn’t sure how her sister had even got out of the car in her skin-tight midi skirt and sky-high heels, but she looked fab. With an envious look at Sabrina’s red hair, which seemed to defy all laws of the curly-headed and never frizz, Freddy went forward to give her a hug.