Ten Days with Mr Darcy (on hold)

Chapter thirty-two - Sir Ieuan

Sir Ieuan's office filled one corner of the house, with windows looking out over the gardens in both directions. It was a lived-in room, filled to the brim with all manner of curiosities. A large flag bearing a red dragon hung on the wall, while a battered rugby ball and a cluster of fossils sat next to odd bits of movie memorabilia and old props.

The shelves were full of books. Mostly old cloth-bound hardbacks, but there were also some new books, children's books and large, glossy coffee table books. A couple of them had images of Sir Ieuan on the cover; a craggy, weatherbeaten yet noble face, browned by his frequent exposure to the Californian sun. He was as tall and as handsome now as he'd ever been in his youth, but the lines on his forehead and around his eyes reflected his true character. He'd refused to bow to the pressure of botox or plastic surgery, choosing instead to grow old disgracefully.

In recent years, Sir Ieuan was known for playing authority figures: army generals, politicians, royalty, the Pope. In his career, he'd leaned towards tense dramas, or high-stakes action, but seemed capable of turning his hand to any genre.

Everyone in the world knew his voice, once described as "gravel wrapped in honey", regardless of the accent he used. Yet, she was still surprised how that familiarity wrapped around her when he spoke. "Miss Lyons, come in and sit down. Do you mind if I call you Jessica?"

She slipped into one of the two chairs in front of his desk. "No...not at all."

He surprised her again by sitting in the chair next to her, instead of behind the desk. "You had no trouble getting here?"

"No, the train was fine." Although her voice remained calm and professional, Jess' inner fangirl was grinning like a maniac. She still found it hard to believe she was sat next to the Sir Ieuan Hall-Jones, having a conversation, as if that was the most normal thing ever.

Gone were the silver strands that usually clustered around his temples. His hair, commonly thought by ardent fans to be one of his most striking features, was today an unnatural black. With his tanned skin, he looked Spanish or maybe Italian. A year-round resident of Wales—or any other part of the UK for that matter— would have struggled to carry off such a hard shade without it making him look half dead. His tanned skin made the difference in colour less stark.

"And are you all settled in? Is your room comfortable? Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes, thanks. It's great, but—"

"Good...good. Did you have a look at the script Carys gave you?"

"Yes, but before we talk about that can...can I ask you something?"

He gave her a wry smile. "You just did, so it appears you can."

Jess' nerves were fighting against her, sat so close to a Hollywood legend, but she tamped them down and forged on. "Why me? Why, out of everyone, did you choose me?"

Sir Ieuan relaxed back into his seat. "A good question." One, it seemed, he was not immediately interested in answering.

"It can't be because of my previous experience, because I've never done anything like this before."

"Well, Jessica...you know, I'm always on the look-out for fresh, new talent, and I liked what you did with the character in your audition. You also impressed my casting director and her assistant. But, apart from that, I had another reason for choosing you."

He was going to mention Gareth, and the two of them working together during the summer. She was certain of it. Even if Gareth hadn't specifically talked about her, there had to be some connection.