and all that.”
“Then what role am I to play?” He wasn’t sure he wished to hear the answer.
“You are to be Mr. Everheart’s son.” She beamed in triumph. “Earnest Everheart.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is that a real person?”
“Not to my knowledge.”
“Do you even know if this Everheart had sons?”
“No, nor does it matter.” Her brows drew together. “Everheart was American and his visits to England were rare. I doubt anyone you might encounter between now and Christmas will question whether or not you are legitimately his son.”
“I suppose,” he said slowly, “but have you considered all the possible ramifications of this little plot of yours? All the things that could go wrong?”
“Nonsense.” Anabel ticked the points off on her fingers. “For one thing, few people here have ever even met Reginald Everheart. Father hadn’t and he knows everyone. Two—the man, and presumably his family, were American. Who knows how many sons or daughters, for that matter, he might have. And three—the chance of anyone from America who might know the Everheart family randomly appearing in London at the Christmas festivities we’ll be attending is very nearly nonexistent.” She cast him a triumphant smile. “I really don’t see what could possibly go wrong.”
“It’s been my experience that the moment anyone questions what could go wrong is the very moment everything does. And I can think of any number of problems with this plan.”
She waved off his comment. “Oh, I think my aunt and I have thought of everything.”
“Have you?” What about the unexpected appearance of the actor her aunt had actually hired? Or her aunt seeing Wes and calling him out as an imposter? “Speaking of your aunt, will she be here tonight?”
“Unfortunately, no. She had intended to be, but I received a note from her late this afternoon. Apparently she had another engagement she had forgotten about. Not unusual for Aunt Lillian.”
Wes knew this plan of Anabel’s and her aunt’s was a bad idea, but specific reasons why eluded him at the moment. What concerns would a real actor have? “Have you thought about me? Aren’t you afraid someone will recognize me? From my many stage performances?”
“Goodness, you are arrogant, aren’t you?”
“I prefer confident to arrogant.”
“Self-delusion is always comforting.” She cast him a decidedly pitying smile. “My aunt said you would be amenable to this endeavor because you are not especially successful.”
“Today maybe, but tomorrow...” He smirked.
She raised a brow. “Dreams of stardom, Mr. Grant?”
“We all have dreams of stardom, Miss Snelling. What would be the point otherwise?”
“There is such a thing as overconfidence.”
“When one is about to go onstage, in front of hundreds of people, and try to convince them he’s someone he’s not, there is no such thing as overconfidence. And for this particular role, I don’t think you want someone who isn’t completely sure of himself.”
“You may be right there.” She paused. “Are you ready to meet my father?”
“Not quite yet. There are a few more things we need to discuss.”
“Your fee, of course.” She nodded. “I’ll speak with my aunt and arrange for that immediately.”
“It’s not that—I’m in no hurry. I’m not quite as struggling as your aunt may think.” He shrugged aside her offer. “No, it’s about Earnest.”
She frowned. “What about him?”
“I don’t like the name,” he said loftily. “Earnest Everheart? It has no ring to it. No...drama.”
“My aunt suggested it. It’s a perfectly fine name.”
“It’s the name of someone who can’t achieve his goals or attain his desires. It’s an awful name for the kind of dashing, attentive suitor you’re looking for.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I assume you do wish for dashing and attentive?”
“This would be pointless otherwise,” she said sharply.
Obviously Miss Anabel Snelling was used to getting her own way. He bit back a grin.
“Earnest.” He shook his head. “I’m not an Earnest.”
“But you are an actor.”
“What you expect of me goes far beyond a few hours on a stage. Furthermore, there are no written lines. Nothing to memorize and certainly nothing to rehearse. I shall have to make my lines up spontaneously.” He shook his head. “It will not be easy.”
“You are being paid for it.”
“Regardless, given the unique aspects of this particular performance, I think we need to do all we can to minimize the possibility of mistakes. While the important part of the man’s name is Everheart—which I assumed you picked to impress your father.”
She nodded.
“The first name is not significant.”
Her brows drew together in annoyance. “I suppose not.”
“Then I suggest we dispense with Earnest in favor of another name.”
“And what might that be?” she asked wryly.
“I suggest Wesley. It’s a good, strong name. The sort of name an explorer would give his son.”
She stared. “It’s your name.”
“Therefore easy to remember.”
“Very well.”
“No man of adventure would name his son Earnest.”
“I said very well.” Her cool tone belied the flicker of amusement in her eyes. “You’re not exactly what I expected, Mr. Grant.”
He met her gaze and smiled into those enchanting green eyes. “I hate being expected, Miss Snelling.”
“Apparently we have more in common than I would have thought.” She smiled albeit reluctantly. “If there’s nothing else, it’s time for you to meet my father and pretend to be madly in love with me.”
“It will be my very great honor.” He opened the doors. “As well as my pleasure.”
“It will be your role.” She swept through the open doors. “A paying role, I might add, and nothing more than that.”
He chuckled. If Anabel Snelling wanted an actor, he’d give her one. And if, in the process, he advanced his own purpose as well, then
