Dramatic Affairs Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  About the Author

  Also by Fredrica Alleyn

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Copyright

  About the Book

  Dangerous liaisons . . .

  Esther Reid is the darling of stage and screen. But when her boyfriend publicly dumps her for a younger model she finds herself slipping from the limelight.

  Throwing herself into a new role working for the prestigious – and amazingly hot – theatre director Christopher Wheldon is the ideal way to forget her troubles. And Esther soon finds herself caught in an erotic drama offstage as well as on . . .

  About the Author

  Fredrica Alleyn is the pseudonym of an author who also writes crime and horror fiction. She lives in Lincoln.

  Fredrica is the author of Cassandra’s Chateau, Cassandra’s Conflict, Dark Obsession, Deborah’s Discovery, Dramatic Affairs, Fiona’s Fate and The Gallery, all available from Black Lace.

  She also writes as Marina Anderson – the bestselling author of Haven of Obedience.

  Also by Fredrica Alleyn:

  Cassandra’s Chateau

  Cassandra’s Conflict

  Dark Obsession

  Deborah’s Discovery

  Fiona’s Fate

  The Gallery

  The Bracelet

  Chapter One

  Esther had first learnt she’d been dumped by Marcus on the Monday. It was now Sunday, and she was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the front of the tabloid newspapers spread out before her. Each of them carried a similar picture of Marcus and his new love on the front page. Only the headlines varied, but by very little. Probably the most hurtful one was the quote from Marcus where he said: ‘At long last I’ve found my true soulmate’. Esther could hardly believe that one. She could remember Marcus saying the same thing to her at least three years earlier. She thought that perhaps when she was feeling stronger she might fax this information to Claudine, the new love of his life, but she knew in her heart that she wouldn’t. It simply wasn’t in her nature, and anyway she wouldn’t want to inflict the kind of hurt that she was feeling on to another woman, however deserving.

  With a sigh she got up from the table and glanced out the window. Reporters and photographers were still gathered outside the tiny North London home that she and Marcus had shared for the past three years since leaving drama school. At first it had been a genuine ordeal to face them at all. It wasn’t as though the breakup had been amicable or even expected. Marcus hadn’t informed her that their relationship was even over. He had gone to America six months previously and had become an overnight star. He was now lined up for a major movie, and they had intended for Esther to join him as soon as she had finished filming her latest TV play.

  The first she had known about his new girlfriend was when she had received a telephone call from a friend in America warning her that Marcus had been seen around a great deal with Claudine. That had been exactly twenty-four hours before the news had broken in England. Even now, Marcus had not had the decency to pick up the phone and tell Esther in person.

  She knew that she had to go shopping this morning and that, once again, she would be pursued by the paparazzi, all clamouring and shouting at her, prompting quotes, and asking her how she was and what she was feeling. She wondered if they genuinely expected her to tell them the truth or if they were simply hoping to goad her into bursting into tears or breaking down in a heap, slumping on to the pavement to give them some of the wonderful pictures their editors were no doubt longing for. Being an actress, she had an advantage over other women in a similar situation; there was always a small part of her that stood back from what she was doing and watched her own performance. It was a trait she’d found rather disconcerting at first but now it was proving to be extremely useful. She knew that her performance as heartbroken but brave was becoming Oscar-worthy, and she wondered how she was going to differentiate between truth and reality in the future. How would she know, she wondered, when the true grief had worn off and she was merely putting on a mask to show the rest of the world how hurt she was? You’re disgusting, Esther, utterly disgusting, she told herself fiercely, but she couldn’t help it. She supposed it went with the profession.

  The trip to the shop, which normally took her about five minutes, took twenty-five, and when she arrived back clutching her carrierbag of low-fat milk, low-fat spread, low-fat yoghurt and low-fat everything, she felt utterly exhausted as she slammed the door on the baying horde outside. It wasn’t that the pictures of the pencil-thin Claudine had made her particularly weight conscious, but all the same she decided it was time to be a little careful. She liked her curves – there had been a time when Marcus couldn’t keep his hands off them – but if she wanted to extend her range it would possibly be better if she were slightly less voluptuous. She suspected this display of virtue wouldn’t last very long but it gave her a small glow of satisfaction at the moment.

  She ate a piece of toast and Marmite and a low-fat yoghurt while gazing at the pictures and rereading the articles. Finally, however, even she had had enough of reading about herself and Marcus. She gathered them all up, scrunched them into a pile and threw them into a corner. Just as she was wondering whether or not she could set light to them the telephone rang and she waited for the answerphone to click in so that she could work out whether or not she wanted to speak to the caller. She’d been screening her calls ever since the news broke. Journalists had been calling, and her mother hadn’t helped matters by saying that Marcus had always dominated her and had been holding her back in her career. Fellow actors and actresses had all expressed their sympathy, but Esther was sure they were gloating at the downfall of one half of the country’s young golden couple. There had been calls from genuine friends, though, and this proved to be just such a call. She was delighted to hear Lydia’s voice coming through the speaker. Quickly, she grabbed at the receiver.

  ‘Lydia, how lovely to hear from you. I’m sorry about the answerphone but I’m still being plagued by “Oh I’m so sorry” calls or “How are you feeling, Esther?” calls.’

  ‘That’s OK,’ laughed Lydia. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to pick the phone up yourself. I can imagine what it must be like at the moment. Actually I rang because I’ve heard some really exciting news and I think you might be interested.’

  Esther couldn’t think of anything that would excite her at the moment, unless it was hearing that Marcus’s film contract had fallen through and Claudine had run off with a hunk of American beefcake. However, she was too polite to say this to Lydia who had been a friend to her for as long as she and Marcus had been together. ‘Do tell then,’ she said, mustering as much enthusiasm as possible into her voice.

  ‘It’s about Christopher Wheldon,’ Lydia said excitedly. ‘Apparently he’s decided to leave the RSC and set up his own theatre company. He wants to gather a few like-minded people around him and then tour the country putting on popular classics in the traditional style. He’s going to take them on the road to country homes and small theatres, as well as better-known venues. He says he’s going to bring the theatre back to the people.’

  ‘What does he mean by that?’ she queried.

  ‘You know perfectly well what he means,’ said Lydia, sounding a trifle annoyed. ‘It’s just the kind of thing that Marcus would have been interested in once, before he got
carried away by all the Hollywood hype. Besides, I seem to remember that at drama school you were always saying that theatre was the only true form of acting.’

  ‘Did I really say that?’ asked Esther. She thought for a moment. ‘Yes, I believe I did. Well, everything changes and the truth of the matter is …’

  ‘The truth of the matter is,’ Lydia said firmly, ‘that Marcus has ruined your career. I hate to say this to you, Esther, but I think you’re really lucky he’s dumped you. I mean, I know it hurts and everything but you gave up all the things you wanted for him just so you could be at his side and then, the moment you’re not, what happens? He runs off with someone else, some French breadstick.’

  Esther giggled. ‘You shouldn’t say that about her. She’s very attractive.’

  ‘She’s all right if you like them immaculately groomed, perfectly made-up and with a face like a blank canvas,’ said Lydia. ‘Personally I think he’s a fool. You’re worth ten of her but at least you’re free now. You can stop doing all those crap TV parts playing blonde bimbo girlfriends and show people that you can really act. It’s different for someone like me, I’m never going to get anywhere until I’m older. I’m far too plain to be anything but a character actress and to be a character actress you have to be forty. I shall spend most of my life waiting at tables until I’m old enough to be a character.’

  Esther laughed again. Lydia was the only person who’d been able to make her laugh in the past week. ‘I don’t think that Marcus held me back at all,’ she said. ‘Everything that I did I chose to do. I must admit Christopher’s idea is rather intriguing, though. It would be nice not to have modern directors of the kind who make you play Ophelia in a mini skirt while all the men wear Armani suits.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Lydia said triumphantly. ‘And he’s going to do all the classics. He’s going to do Coward and Priestley, Shakespeare and Marlowe.’

  ‘How big’s this company going to be?’ asked Esther in astonishment.

  ‘Oh not that big; apparently they’re all going to be potted versions.’

  ‘If you ask me he’s a bit weird,’ said Esther. ‘Marcus never did like him.’

  ‘Marcus never liked anyone he thought might outshine him,’ Lydia pointed out.

  ‘But Christopher isn’t such a good actor as Marcus,’ protested Esther. ‘He thinks he is but he isn’t; just like he says he’s six feet tall and he isn’t. I don’t think he’s more than five ten.’

  ‘You should hear yourself,’ said Lydia. ‘You sound just like Marcus.’

  Esther drew in her breath sharply. It was true that the opinions she was voicing were Marcus’s opinions and not her own. She wasn’t particularly keen on Christopher Wheldon but, on the other hand, she didn’t know him that well and she’d thought that his Henry V had been one of the best ever. ‘I suppose I could ring my agent and find out what’s needed in order to get an audition,’ she said slowly.

  ‘Just think how sick Marcus will be if he hears that you’re doing classical acting,’ crowed Lydia.

  ‘That isn’t why I’ll do it, if I do do it,’ Esther said crossly. ‘It’s just that I need something different to take my mind off Marcus and, by the sound of it, this would be different and keep me busy. Have you any idea how long his season will last?’

  ‘None at all,’ said Lydia. I’m not the sort of person who’s going to be involved. I only heard this on the grapevine but you can get all the details from your agent. Go for it, Esther, please, for my sake if no one else’s. This could open up a whole new world for you.’

  ‘I doubt if he’ll take me,’ Esther said. ‘I haven’t had much stage experience.’

  ‘Exactly, and that’s because of Marcus. Now do you accept my point?’ asked Lydia.

  ‘Not that it’s because of Marcus,’ said Esther, ‘but I agree that I have neglected the stage. Mind you, offers haven’t exactly poured in. It’s hard enough to get TV work. Anyway, I’ll ring my agent, find out all that I can, and let you know how I get on.’

  ‘That’s great,’ enthused Lydia. ‘I look forward to hearing from you, and remember, Marcus is the loser – not you.’

  ‘You’ll never guess what that was about,’ remarked Christopher Wheldon, replacing the telephone and looking across the bedroom to where Rebecca was lolling on the large four-poster bed.

  ‘Do tell,’ said Rebecca.

  ‘That was Esther Reid’s agent. Apparently Miss Reid would like to audition for my new company. What do you think about that?’

  Rebecca shrugged, tossing her long shoulder-length dark hair back off her face and staring at him with slanted hazel eyes. ‘I didn’t know she could do stage work,’ she remarked. ‘I saw her in an absolutely dire TV play the other night.’

  ‘Never mind the play, what was she like?’ asked Christopher with interest.

  ‘Didn’t really think about it. She’s sort of curvy, blonde, pretty and vacant-looking.’

  ‘Meow!’ laughed Christopher, walking towards the bed. ‘Well I’ve said that she can come along and have a chat with me. I thought that sounded more polite than asking her to audition. After what Marcus has just done to her she’s probably anxious to get away from the public eye for a bit.’

  ‘She’s hardly going to get away from the public eye by joining a touring theatre company,’ Rebecca pointed out dryly.

  ‘I meant escape from the house, not be on TV so much, carve out a new career for herself,’ remarked Christopher.

  Rebecca gazed up at him. He really was incredibly attractive. He had fair highlighted hair that flopped forward over his forehead, a handsome face, grey eyes and was very well built. He prided himself on keeping fit and it was one of the things she liked most about him. That and his enthusiasm for sex; an enthusiasm that was equally matched by her. She’d been a bit player at the RSC when they’d met two months earlier but, for some reason, Christopher had homed in on her and, like the rest of the company, she could hardly believe her good luck. However, having now got hold of him she had no intention of letting go.

  She was, and she knew it, a very fine actress, but she was already aware that it would be unwise to make this clear too early to Christopher. She was more than willing to subjugate her performances when playing opposite him until he was thoroughly in her thrall; only then would she allow him to see how talented she really was. For a man like Christopher Wheldon there was only room for one star – and that star had to be him.

  Rebecca also knew how furious he was at Marcus’s success in America. Christopher had been certain that after his successes at the RSC he would be snapped up by Hollywood scouts and whisked off following in the footsteps of Kenneth Branagh and Ralph Fiennes. Unfortunately, Marcus had beaten him to it and now Christopher, by creating his own company, was making it clear that fame and fortune were not everything. In other words he was hiding his own disappointment and at the same time telling the great theatre-going public in Britain, ‘Look at me. I’m loyal, I’m true and I’m not lured away by money.’ Rebecca assumed that Christopher must imagine the public wouldn’t know that he had never been offered any money. In fact, Hollywood had shown no interest in him at all.

  ‘Are you going to get Esther Reid to audition for you once she arrives,’ she asked. ‘If so, what are you going to make her do?’

  Christopher sighed. ‘I hadn’t really thought about it,’ he murmured.

  Rebecca found this hard to believe. Christopher never did anything without thinking about it and she was very surprised that he was even considering allowing Esther to join their company. She couldn’t imagine what his reason was but she had no doubt that he had one.

  She hadn’t yet dressed, although it was past midday, and she noticed that Christopher’s eyes were lingering on the amount of bosom that was revealed by the plunging neckline of her crimson satin nightdress. She looked up at him trying to gauge his mood. Christopher liked two kinds of sex, and it was important that she caught his mood correctly.

  Sometimes, he liked to dominate her.
She sensed that some of her attraction for him lay in her slender bones and long neck. He got a huge sexual thrill from wrapping his large fingers around her wrists and sometimes clasping his hands tightly round her neck as though about to strangle her. But there were other times, usually late at night after a few drinks, when the real Christopher began to show through, then things would change entirely and Christopher would want Rebecca to take charge.

  These were the times Rebecca enjoyed the most. The surge of power she felt when she had Christopher at her mercy, those blissful moments when he would be moaning and begging or grovelling at her feet, provided the most exciting sex she’d had so far. One thing she understood very clearly was that this private side of Christopher – this need to be dominated – was a side that she must never discuss with anyone or she would be cast out, not only from Christopher’s life but possibly from the whole world of acting. Christopher Wheldon held a great deal of power. He could open doors for people and he could also slam them shut in their face. Rebecca had no intention of having any doors slammed in her face.

  ‘You’re not jealous of Esther are you?’ asked Christopher, sitting on the bed and running a finger lightly down the inside of Rebecca’s right arm.

  ‘Why on earth should I be jealous of Esther?’ asked Rebecca in astonishment. ‘After all, what’s she ever done except TV work and go out with Marcus Martin?’

  Christopher’s hand wandered higher up Rebecca’s arm, lingering on the fine-boned shoulders and then stroking the flesh across her collarbone. ‘Come to that, what have you ever done except go out with me?’ he queried.

  ‘Well, she simply isn’t the kind of person that arouses any feeling in me except contempt,’ Rebecca said sharply.

  Christopher laughed. ‘I think you’re lying to me,’ he said softly. ‘I don’t think you want Esther to join our company. I think you’re afraid I might fall for her.’

  Rebecca wanted to laugh but she realised that Christopher was serious. He genuinely wanted Rebecca to start feeling jealous about Esther, and from this she reasoned he must be intending to let Esther join the company. Well, she wasn’t jealous of Esther, and she couldn’t imagine for one moment that Esther would provide the kind of sexual thrills that Christopher wanted. Nevertheless, if this was what he wanted then she was willing to play the game.