The Actress and the Aristocrat by Katie Ashley
Chapter Two: Charlie
Istole a glance over my shoulder at Maude. When she gave a brief jerk of her head, I inwardly groaned. In my nervousness, I’d managed to commit some social faux paus. “My apologies,” I murmured as I straightened myself.
He grunted. “You know, I had great reservations about allowing a film crew on my estate. However, I was assured that the upmost respect would be given.” He stared down his nose at me. “Apparently, I was misled.”
Red crisscrossed before my eyes. What.the.actual.fuck?! Or I suppose who the actual fuck did he think he was to talk to me like that? Suddenly, I was sucked into the past to a table full of my hometown’s country club members. I was seated next to the golden boy of the social circle who also happened to be my boyfriend of a few weeks. I’d never seen so much flatware in all my life, and of course, I’d made a faux pas by using the wrong fork. The snide laughter and sideways glances at my blunder had made me want to crawl under the table and die a humiliating death.
But I wasn’t the same girl I was then.
“It was an honest mistake, sir. I’m an actress, not a diplomat rehearsed in social graces.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I added, “Perhaps if you took a moment to get your head out of your pretentious ass you would see that.”
Rob’s bark of laughter drowned out Maude’s gasp of horror. Immediately, warmth rushed to my cheeks. What the hell was I thinking? Insulting the owner of the estate where we were filming was not going to win me any points with the producers. Although I would’ve preferred walking across broken glass rather than apologize to him, I had to think of my career. “My apologies. Sometimes my mouth gets the better of me.”
“It should serve you well playing Lady Rowena,” Rob mused.
My lips quirked up in an appreciative smile to him before I turned my attention back to the Earl’s steely glare. “Just as Lady Rowena did, you have a lot to learn.”
Save me from the misogyny. “How lucky I am then to be in the presence of someone so learned like you, the Earl of Whittingham,” I replied sweetly.”
The muscles in the Earl’s jaws tensed as he huffed a frustrated snort out of his nose. “Rand, let it go,” Rob warned. His serious tone surprised me.
“Let what go?” I asked as I glanced between the brothers.
While Rob opened his mouth to respond to me, the Earl beat him to it. “I am Earl Whittingham, not the Earl of Whittingham.”
“There’s a difference?”
“Oh Christ, Rand,” Rob muttered while the Earl replied, “Yes, there bloody well is.”
Once again, I was back at that table at the Hayesville Country Club. Over the years, I’d thought of so many ways I would’ve handled the situation differently. Now I had the chance.
Motioning with my right hand, I said, “By all means, enlighten an ignorant and uncultured American.”
While the Earl’s eyes bulged, Rob tried to hide his snickering behind his hand. Rising from his seat, the Earl pinned me with a hard look. “I am the tenth Earl Whittingham. The earldom was bestowed upon my family in the 18th century as well as the title Viscount Pemberton. It holds a much higher distinction than a regular Earl.”
Well, la-di-freakin-da. “How absolutely extraordinary,” I sniped.
My comment earned me yet another scowl from Earl Snobbingham. Since it was obvious my exit was long overdue, I forced a smile to my face. “Once again, I’m indebted to you for calling out my ignorance.” Turning to Rob, I said, “It was a pleasure meeting you, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to the set.”
“It was a pleasure meeting you as well, Ms. Monroe. If there’s anything you could possibly need, just let me know.”
“Thank you, Lord Whittingham.”
“Rob,” he countered emphatically. Then like something out of a Jane Austen movie, Rob grasped my hand and brought it to his lips. “I look forward to seeing more of you while you’re here.”
Smooth. Very, very smooth. If I hadn’t already been involved with someone, I would’ve definitely entertained the thought of pursuing a tryst with his lordship. “And the same to you,” I replied.
After taking back my hand, I turned my attention to Earl Whittingham. It was obvious he wasn’t the Casanova his brother was, and even if he had been, I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a chance in hell he would’ve given me the time of day since I was so dreadfully beneath him. “Thank you so much for the opportunity to meet you.” It was all I could manage to choke out.
I quickly turned on my vintage heels and then stalked out of the room. Although it wasn’t my intention, the door slammed behind me. Okay fine, so maybe it was my intention. Who could blame me? With a groan, I started back to the set. Now that I had shown my ass in front of Earl Whittingham, I could only imagine how unpleasant the shoot might be.