Page 32 of All For You

I hovered around Trystan. “What do you think they’re doing?”

“I’m sorry, even now, I’m not supposed to say,” Trystan said. “Sounds fab, though.”

Darcy was head down, furiously tapping on his phone. “They’re getting an insider’s tour from the owner of the house where they filmed part ofPoldarkandRivals. Shit.” He gritted his teeth, clearly annoyed at himself that he’d let it slip.

“Really?PoldarkandRivals?” I was instantly skeptical. Darcy wasn’t a credible person right now.

At my challenge, he looked annoyed. “They’re also enjoying a special afternoon tea with a couple of the actors, being subjected to some ridiculous therapies involving bamboo and hot stones, and an astrology reading as to how they might be suited.”

My writer’s brain latched on to these details. How could I incorporate this TV set into my novel? Maybe one night, Peony drank more Madeira than was advisable, and on a drunken betwith Thomas, they both tried out for the traveling minstrels. Turned out they were naturals and were cast as lovers. On the road, their lines became prophecy, and they fell in love. Except…this plotting would need a goodly sprinkling of thou hasts and ye forthwiths. I didn’t know Shakespeare well enough. Sigh.

“How do you know about the date?” I asked Darcy.

“The homeowner is a friend of mine. He let it slip while we were playing padel in London.”

His answer was so specific, he seemed more credible. But that left another question…

“Why did you pretend you didn’t know?”

He huffed at me, lips turned up, forehead creased. “I didn’tpretendanything. I didn’t ruin the surprise.”

“But if you know the owner, surely he’d give you a tour?”

“Of course. I’ve been to his place several times.” Clearly bored by my questions, he turned back to his phone.

I’d asked him about this earlier. He told me that he wanted to win because it “sounded fun.” That was completely different from his answer now. He’d lied to me about his motivation. “But then why on earth did you want to win the afternoon prize so badly?”

He froze like he’d been caught out. “I always rise to competition.” His reply sounded conceited and evasive at the same time, and he fidgeted nervously with his watch.

Puzzling and maddening. That couldn’t be the real reason. But I didn’t have the energy to pursue this line of questioning.

“I’m heading upstairs to read,” I said. There was a “farm tour” scheduled, but I was going to give it a miss. Attempt another writing session, maybe.

Trystan raised his knife from where he was slicing potatoes. “Sorry, young missy, there is no time to read and rest. You are all scheduled to help out on the neighboring farm.”

I guessed sneaking out to write wasn’t allowed. And at the wordfarm, the dogs were triggered with excitement and chased each other around the room, as if they’d heardwalkordinner.

“Oodles, no,” I called ineffectually.

According to the schedule we’d been given, the brunch losers were tovisita farm. Then a makeover and dinner and dancing. I wasn’t sure what Trystan’s “helping out on the farm” meant, but I was exhausted and on edge after working with Darcy to produce the ghastly gray chicken and then puzzled after finding out Darcy had access to the main prize anyway.

“Max,” Darcy called, also ineffectually.

“You two. Here.” Knightley tapped the arm of his chair, and both dogs went and sat next to him.

Though the dogs stayed sitting obediently, their tongues lolled out and their faces said,Righty-ho, let’s go, guys!

In contrast to the dogs’ boundless enthusiasm, my whole body felt like I’d swallowed a stone. Not only was I missing out on an interesting afternoon because of Darcy’s arrogance, even if I would’ve had to spend it with him, I’d now be forced to do something that sounded like hard labor—still with him. I wasn’t afraid of physical work, but I was looking forward to a break from humans, trying writing in my room. Maybe instead of touring minstrels, Peony and Thomas were caught in a time warp—maybe the hot-air balloon ride was a portal?—and now they were extras inPoldark. Peony was cast as a new love interest for Poldark, showing Thomas he no longer wanted to be friend-zoned. But…nope. Time travel was not my brand, and I couldn’t mess withPoldark, pissing off my readers and TV viewers in one fell swoop.

More frustrations on an already frustrating day.

“I thought the afternoon would be free time now that we’d lost,” I answered.

“Sorry, babe, no free time on reality TV.” Using his paring knife, Trystan pointed at Harry in the corner. “Not as long as there is a camera in the room.”

CHAPTER 17

Darcy