Page 94 of Give Me a Reason

“Shit.” He rubbed his forehead.

“Just two more weeks.” Pete patted Frederick’s shoulder. “Give her some time to settle in at the location and get used to her filming schedule. Then you can tell her in person.”

“Wait.” Frederick blinked. “You don’t mean…”

“Oh yes he does. You’re going to England, mate,” Joe said in a passable British accent. “That’s what makes it agrand gesture.”

“Fuck yeah.” Frederick fist-pumped to the hoots of his friends. “England, here I come.”

He would crawl and swim to England if only Anne would have him back. The biggest hardship for this grand gesture was having to wait two long weeks to tell her he loved her.

But the last thing he wanted was to add to her already full plate, so he would wait—even if it felt like his heart was ripping at the seams, holding the words inside.

I’m coming, Anne. Wait for me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Kent was a place steeped in beauty and history, and their shooting locations were more picturesque than Anne could have ever imagined. As one of the oldest counties in England, the aptly named “Garden of England” boasted ornate Elizabethan and Jacobean architecture—wide, symmetrical stone buildings with numerous windows and intricate decorative elements. While the grand castles and manors reminded Anne of Downton Abbey, which delighted the fangirl in her, it was the smaller, wood-framed houses that truly charmed her.

Shooting outdoors on a beautiful, clear afternoon, Anne felt as though she’d opened a picture book and stepped inside a fairy tale. The rolling green countryside felt vibrant and sparkling, and even the air tasted sweeter, as though untouched by pollution. It felt fitting to channel the proud, spirited Elizabeth Bennet in this breathtaking place, secreted away from time.

Elizabeth was young and full of life. She was free to fall in love for the first time—to discover the depth of Darcy’s feelings for her and to realize that she reciprocated those feelings with all her heart. When she was Elizabeth, Anne could hide from the cold, Frederick-size void inside her and be free in a way she hadn’t been in a long time.

In today’s scene, Elizabeth was angry and hurt because Mr. Darcy had confessed his love to her in the worst imaginable way. Shewas also devastated for reasons she didn’t understand yet, so she lashed out at him with all the confused fury inside her. When the last cutting words left her mouth, Elizabeth wanted to sink into the ground, because her heart was breaking with the wrongness of it all.

“Cut,” Andrew shouted and pushed off the director’s chair.

Anne turned away from Mason, the perfect Mr. Darcy to her Elizabeth, with a sheepish laugh. She extracted herself from the scene with effort, her heart thundering beneath the fitted bodice of her dress. Her costar blew out a long breath and shook out his long limbs, his dark-honey skin flushed from the height of Darcy’s emotions.

“Beautifully done.” With a hand over his heart, Andrew jogged over to them. “You portrayed the internal struggles of Elizabeth and Darcy toperfection. Can we sink into that energy a little more and do another take?”

Anne bit her cheeks to hold back a smile. It was just like Andrew to tell his actors they’d performed the scene perfectly only to ask them to do it againbut better, all in the same breath.

“Absolutely,” Mason said with a knowing wink at her. With his broad shoulders and immaculate posture, he carried off his regency costume impressively. Were it not for his cheeky grin, he would be the picture of aloof, aristocratic beauty. “We’ll do it a little more perfectly.”

“Fine, I asked for that.” Andrew chuckled good-naturedly. “I meant it wasnearlyperfect, so alittle moreof that perfection would be great.”

“A little more perfection. You got it.” Anne gave him a solemn nod, pressing her lips together, but the corners of her mouth betrayed her.

Andrew stared at her for several seconds too long, and Mason made a show of studying the sky, whistling tunelessly under his breath. Anne burst out laughing at her costar’s teasing, even as she blushed under Andrew’s attention.

Although they had begun filming less than a week ago, Anne and Mason had become good friends—close enough for him to tease her relentlessly. As a matter of fact, the entire tight-knit crew joined in teasing Anne and Andrew, since he hadn’t been subtle about his interest in her.

It felt liberating to work in Hollywood. If this were Korea, her fans would have buried her—with a row of literal funeral wreathes—for even a hint of romance with her director. But if she had not been pining for Frederick and someone had captured her heart, she would not have gone down quietly. After all, she was American, born and raised.

“You two can make fun of me all you wantoncewe wrap for the day.” Andrew clapped his hands smartly and trotted back to his seat. “Let’s go again. I’m not asking for much. Justabsoluteperfection.”

Even though she and her fellow cast members joked around with Andrew, there was no question they all respected him tremendously. He worked them hard—asking for perfection—but he worked hard alongside them. What actors really wanted was to work with a director who could harness their full potential—someone who brought out the best in them—and Andrew did that for them.

By the end of the day, Anne was yawning into her hand but feeling good about a job well done. With every scene, Elizabeth became more real—more alive—through Anne. It was exhilarating and distracting. The long hours of being Elizabeth helped her forget about being Anne. About how she’d never worked up the nerve to call Frederick. About how it made no difference since he belonged to another. About her ever-present regrets and longings. About how much she missed him.

With weary steps, she headed for the SUVs going back to their lodgings. The sleek, modern vehicles looked out of place next to an old stone church in the woods. She probably lookedodd as well in her street clothes with her hair in a regency-era updo.

Before she got far, Andrew stopped her with a light touch on her arm. She glanced askance at him, her head cocked to the side. He was always energetic, but he nearly twitched with restlessness tonight.

“Anne, may I escort you back to your castle?” He bounced lightly on his feet. “There’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

He wasn’t joking. Anne, along with the rest of the cast, had been set up in a beautiful converted castle dating back nine hundred years. The enchanting hotel was situated on a private island surrounded by an expansive moat with a main castle, a stable, and several cottages.

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