the odd berry-red hat for a spot of colour. The river rushed past beside the stalls, flowing over rocks and under bare trees. The spot must be beautiful in the summer, he realised. No wonder Melissa had wanted to come back here.
When he came across the stage, he couldn’t resist—especially when he saw the box of props waiting there, just asking to be used. It might be a cliché, but in his experience it was a rare actor who could resist a bit of Hamlet.
Then he saw Eloise, lowering her phone from her ear, her red hair the brightest thing in the whole fair. Even her sensible brown knee boots and knitted navy dress made him want to reach out and touch her.
And when she smiled...his heart contracted in his chest.
Then his eyes narrowed. That was not the smile of a woman planning a seduction. That was the smile of a woman who wanted something. Well, he wasn’t above giving—as long as he got something in return.
In all honesty, if it was Eloise asking, he’d probably do it for free. Just to see some more of that smile.
‘What do you need?’ he asked as she approached.
Her smile faltered for a moment, then came back stronger than ever. ‘The troupe of actors we’d hired to perform today can’t make it. Their minibus broke down about a hundred miles away.’
‘That’s a shame.’ Noah was pretty sure he could guess now what she wanted, but he was going to make her ask, all the same. Given how incapable of saying no to her he felt right now, it was only fair.
‘I don’t suppose you’re feeling in the mood to reprise some of your more famous Shakespearian roles, are you?’
‘Fancying some Romeo at last, huh?’
‘Or Hamlet, or Benedick, or Puck...I’m not fussed, as long as there’s someone up on that stage performing when our guests arrive.’
‘Aren’t I one of those guests?’
Eloise shook her head. ‘You’re the best man. That means pitching in and fixing whatever goes wrong with the wedding.’
‘I suppose it does,’ Noah said slowly, an idea forming in his mind. ‘And I guess as maid of honour you have to do the same, right?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Well, in principle...but you’re the actor here. This really seems like a job for you.’
‘Ah, but it would be so much better with two, wouldn’t it?’ Noah said. ‘Monologues are so boring. But a good bit of dialogue...that’ll get people watching. So, how’s your Shakespeare?’
‘Rusty. Very, very rusty. I mean, I used to help my mum learn her lines, and she did a few of Shakespeare’s, but that was years ago. As was my A-level English Lit course, for that matter.’
‘Your mum?’ Noah frowned. ‘She was an actress?’ Did that explain Eloise’s strange prejudice against actors? Had one messed her mother around? Or was her dad an actor?
For someone he knew so little about, he felt strangely invested in her past. And in her immediate future, come to that.
‘Of a sort. Look, it doesn’t matter now. The point is, I don’t know the lines. Any lines. For any play.’
‘You don’t need to,’ Noah told her, pushing aside his questions about her parents for a time when Eloise was less stressed. So, some time next year, probably. The woman had been stress incarnate since he’d met her. Strange—that wasn’t something he’d ever found attractive before. ‘We’ll do readings rather than acting out the scenes. It’ll work fine and you don’t need to worry about remembering anything.’
Eloise frowned. ‘I suppose. But...’
Now they were getting to it. ‘So, what’s the real reason you don’t want to do it? Worried I’ll show you up? Trust me, I wouldn’t. It’s a long time since I’ve done Shakespeare too.’
She pulled a face. ‘That’s not it. Well, yes, partly, I suppose. You’re an actual actor. I’m someone who’s just read the plays a few times.’
‘I’m an actor who mostly beats people up in films these days,’ he reminded her. ‘But, actually, I’m looking to get into some different roles, so maybe a change of pace will be good for me. And I think fooling around on stage with me will be good for you too. We can just do the comedies, if you like. It’ll be fun.’
‘Fun? Standing up there with the famous and the beautiful watching me make a fool of myself? Not my idea of a good time.’
‘That’s what you’re worried about? Them?’ Noah shook his head. He knew from personal experience that nobody attending this wedding thought too much about anyone except themselves. ‘I really wouldn’t.’
‘Easy for you to say. I don’t...’ She swallowed and met his gaze. ‘I told you. I really don’t like being the centre of attention.’
So that was it. ‘That’s why you didn’t want to do the dance either,’ he said, remembering how she’d shrunk away, almost disappearing into the wall, when she’d been watching him and Melissa dance that morning. ‘And why you wear such boring clothes.’
‘Leave my clothes out of it,’ she grumbled. ‘Not everyone has to be a peacock like Melissa.’
‘Or a show-off like me,’ he finished for her. ‘But it doesn’t matter. That’s the joy of acting. You’re not the centre of attention at all—your character is. You can be someone else for a while. It’s fantastically freeing.’
‘Really?’ Eloise didn’t look entirely convinced.
‘Sure. Why do you think so many actors are screwed up as human beings? It’s not the job that does it. It’s the reason they choose the job in the first place. Who else would pick a career that lets them escape from themselves?’
‘I suppose,’ Eloise allowed. ‘But that doesn’t change the fact that it would be me up there on the stage. Making a fool of myself.’
‘I won’t let you do that.’ He reached out a hand to take hers. ‘Come on. It’ll be fun. I promise.’ It would be, he was certain. And fun was definitely something Eloise needed more of in her life.
She sucked in a deep breath, so deep he could see her chest move. ‘Okay,’ she said at last. ‘Let’s do this.’
* * *
If women in Shakespeare’s time really wore dresses as uncomfortable as the one Noah picked out for her, suddenly Eloise understood why they always looked so miserable in paintings. She’d almost rather be wearing the hideous bridesmaid’s dress. Almost.
‘Perfect,’ Noah said as she stepped out from the Portaloo she’d used as a changing room. Apparently stardom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
‘I feel like an idiot.’
‘But you look like a star,’ Noah promised.
Eloise glanced down at the corseted bodice, the intricate lacing and embroidery and the full skirt. The deep winter green of the fabric suited her, she knew, and the golden stitching added something special to the dress. But it wasn’t until she met Noah’s gaze and saw the warmth and approval in his eyes that she truly believed she looked okay.
More than okay, if the way Noah’s gaze travelled her body was anything to go by. She almost wished there was a full-length mirror around so she could see for herself.
But she knew that the prettiest costume couldn’t hide her from the reality of what she was about to do.
Why had she agreed to this? How had she let him convince her? He hadn’t even really had to try—he’d just smiled at her and told her it would be fun, and she’d fallen for it.
This was why she needed to stay away from Noah Cross. Something that would be a lot easier if they weren’t both in the wedding party from hell.
‘Are