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If you don’t, I’ll understand perfectly.” Spots of color stained her too-prominent cheekbones, and she was twisting her hands together.
    Tracy said, “Of course I want you to come. All I have to do is get into my jeans and we can go.”
    There was a screen at the end of the camper, and Tracy went behind it to change. Gail hung the Regency- style dress carefully on a portable rack, and then the three young women headed for the caterer’s truck, where the second sitting of dinner was being served.
    The sun was still out, but there was a distinct chill in the air, and Tracy was glad of her wool sweater. She collected her filled plate from one of the caterer’s assistants and walked to one of the two dining buses parked nearby.
    Twenty or so people were gathered around the table inside, and a loud chorus of greetings went up as Tracy came in. Elsie Anway, who was playing Tracy’s maid in the film, called Tracy’s name and gestured to the two empty seats next to her. Gail took a single seat between two electricians, and Tracy led Meg to the chairs next to Elsie. Before she sat down, she announced, “Listen up, everybody. This is Lady Margaret Oliver. Her brother owns this place. She’s having dinner with us, so behave yourselves.”
    Laughter came from all around.
    Meg’s cheeks were flushed with color and her eyes were bright as she took her seat between Tracy and Elsie. She had consented to accept a bowl of soup from the caterers and placed it carefully on the table.
    “This is quite some place your brother has here,” Elsie said amiably.
    “Thank you,” Meg replied. “It’s so super getting a chance to watch you film.”
    Liza Moran, who was seated a little way down the table, said, “Is Lord Silverbridge interested in filming, Lady Margaret?”
    “I don’t think so,” Meg replied cautiously.
    “You ought to get him to come along to the set one of these days,” Liza said. “I think he would find it enjoyable.”
    “Harry is very busy.” It was the first time Tracy had heard that note of aristocratic reserve from Meg.
    Conversation flowed easily around the table, and Meg listened with obvious fascination and did not eat her soup. Tracy suspected that the girl was anorexic, which perhaps accounted for her being out of school.
    Elsie also noticed Meg’s lack of appetite and said in a motherly way, “Don’t you care for the soup, Lady Margaret? I’m sure the caterers have something you would enjoy.”
    “The food is fine,” Meg replied with a trace of annoyance. “Don’t worry about me, I never eat much.”
    Tracy was finishing her coffee when a horse van came into sight through the windows of the bus. It veered off the main drive shortly after it emerged from the trees, and she asked Meg, “Is that the way to the stables?”
    “Yes.” Meg had been listening to the banter between two of the audio men, but she turned her attention to Tracy. “That’s probably Gwen Mauley’s horse. She’s sending him for training with Harry.”
    “Mauley,” Tracy repeated thoughtfully. “I’ve heard that name before.”
    “Gwen’s father is Robin Mauley, the big real estate pooh-bah.”
    “Oh, yes. I saw him at the hotel the other evening.”
    “Gwen rides dressage, and she has been training with Harry for six months.” Meg’s eyes sparked, and she added disapprovingly, “Personally, I think she’s more interested in Harry’s title than she is in his teaching.”
    The electricians sitting around Gail got to their feet, prepared to go back to work. Tracy caught her secretary’s eye and motioned very faintly with her head. Elsie said, “There’s cake for dessert.”
    “None for me, thanks,” Tracy said. Gail was moving toward the bus door, and Tracy stood up. “I want to go home and put my feet up. I’m tired.”
    Meg gave her a hopeful look. “Will I see you tomorrow, Tracy?”
    Tracy considered her expression, th e n said, “Come and watch me film.”
    “I’ll do that,” Meg replied,