Free The Girl from Summer Hill by Jude Deveraux

for the role of Elizabeth.”
    Hildy blinked a few times, then she abruptly turned on her heel and left.
    For a few moments it was awkward between Casey and Olivia, neither of them seeming to know what to say.
    “I apologize for that,” Olivia said. “When she’s upset, Hildy forgets her manners.”
    Casey wanted to ask how often a bawling out like that happened and why Olivia didn’t stand up to her. But it was too soon for personal questions like those. Besides, Olivia was so embarrassed that Casey thought she might leave. “What photos does she mean?”
    “Oh, nothing,” Olivia said. “It’s just some long-ago history.” She looked relieved that Casey wasn’t commenting on Hildy’s anger.
    “Does it have anything to do with the envelope Kit gave you and how he called you Mrs. Bennet?”
    When Olivia gave a bit of a smile, Casey was glad to see her shoulders begin to straighten. “Actually, it does. I did some acting when I was younger.”
    “You
have
to let me see!” Casey said. While it was true that she wanted to see photos of Olivia as an actress, she was even more interested in doing something to make her feel better. Hildy’s words seemed to have taken the life out of Olivia.
    Olivia took her handbag from under the table, pulled out the envelope Kit had handed her, and held it out.
    Casey pulled out a shiny black-and-white head shot of a beautiful young woman, a younger Olivia. It was a three-quarter profile, and she looked like she was smiling at someone she loved. Her blonde hair was up in the back, with curls framing her face. The square neckline of her dress was quite low. “You’re dressed as Elizabeth?”
    “I was. I played her for twenty-four performances.”
    “Here in Summer Hill?”
    “No.” Olivia put the photo back in the envelope. “On Broadway. In New York.”
    “Wow!” Casey said. “You’re a real live star.”
    Olivia smiled modestly. “Not at all. That was my only foray into that world, and it didn’t last long.”
    “What happened?”
    “Life. I had to return home to Summer Hill, then I met my late husband, Alan Trumbull, and…” She shrugged. “It didn’t work out for me to go back to the stage.”
    “When was that?”
    “Long ago. In the swinging seventies.” She put the envelope back into her bag.
    “But it looks like Kit saw you on Broadway.”
    “I guess he did. I didn’t know that.”
    “But he remembers, so you must have been good,” Casey said. “I think you should try out for—”
    “Oh, no!” Olivia said quickly. “If I got a part and Hildy didn’t, my life wouldn’t be worth living.” Olivia put her hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
    Casey touched Olivia’s hand. “My mother is a doctor, and she drilled it into me that half of abuse is the silence of the person who is on the receiving end.”
    Olivia stiffened. “Hildy isn’t abusive. She just gets upset.”
    “Sorry,” Casey said. “I overstepped, but I still think you should audition. Hey! If Hildy gets a role, will you try out too?”
    “Possibly,” Olivia said.
    “Think of the smell of greasepaint and the footlights.”
    Olivia laughed. “It’s not the 1890s, but that does sound good. I can do my work during the day, so most of my evenings will be clear.”
    “What’s your job?”
    “Actually, I live with my stepson and Hildy. I do what I can to help out.”
    Casey had to bite her tongue to keep from pointing out that Hildy had made a derogatory remark about Olivia being treated as a maid. But that’s what Hildy seemed to think her mother-in-law was.
    Casey saw Kit walking toward the exterior doors. “Excuse me, I have to ask Kit something.” She practically ran to him. “You have to give Olivia’s daughter-in-law, Hildy, the role of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. She thinks she’s so pretty—which she is
not
—that she should have been chosen for Jane. She also thinks she’s young enough—which she is not—to be Lydia. So now she’s