RAZZLE DAZZLE

by Lisa Hendrix

  “Oh, my, I hope not,” said Tish.

  Sam’s eyebrows went up. “Don’t you like her?”

  The question caught Tish off guard. She had been so preoccupied with how Mason felt about Miss Hobart that she hadn’t considered her own feelings.

  Actually, she did rather like the girl. While unpolished and apt to shock every now and again, she was usually pleasant to have around. And as Miranda had pointed out, she did bring out a softer side of Mason that was very nice to see again after so many years. But that wasn’t what she wanted to tell Samantha.

  “I haven’t known her long enough to like her or dislike her, and neither has your father.” Tish folded back the bedspread and smoothed it across the foot of the bed. “To be honest, Samantha, I think he’d be better off marrying Caroline. They have much more in common. Miss Hobart is young and pretty and your father enjoys spending time with her right now, but I don’t think she’s really right for him. Samantha, you do know that you should never discuss one of your father’s girlfriends with another.”

  “Why not?” Sam hopped up on the bed.

  “Well, think about it, darling. If you were Miss Hobart, would you want to hear about what your father did with Caroline?”

  “No.”

  “And if you were Caroline and went off on a trip, would you be happy if you found out your boyfriend had been seeing someone else while you were gone, even if it wasn’t serious?”

  “Probably not,” said Sam, frowning. “But won’t Daddy tell her anyway? I mean, he shouldn’t lie about something like that.”

  Tish pulled up the blankets and tucked them around Samantha. “I’m sure your father will discuss whatever he needs to with each of them, but it’s not your business to bring it up. You can be discreet, can’t you? That means keeping private matters private.”

  “I’ll try.” She turned her pillow over a couple of times until she got it the way she wanted it, then flopped down. “But, Gran?”

  “Yes, darling?”

  “I don’t like Caroline as much as I do Raine.”

  “She’s not as comfortable with children as Miss Hobart is,” admitted Tish. “But that will improve as she gets used to you. And she is much better for your father and will make him happier in the long run, which is what is important for us to keep in mind. Now, good night, darling. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, Gran. I love you.”

  Tish bent and kissed her cool forehead. “I love you, too, my darling.”

  Which was why she was going to have a talk with Mason as soon as she got him alone.

  *

  The interior of the Jaguar crackled with electricity on the way back to Raine’s house that night, and it had nothing to do with quirky British automotive wiring.

  Mason knew most of the charge was rippling off him. He wanted Raine, there was no way around it. Despite all his resolutions, his promises, his good intentions, he wanted her.

  It was pure physical desire, made more intense by the knowledge of what it was like to be buried in her sweet warmth. He wanted that again, over and over.

  Not just sex. Sex with Raine.

  What’s more, he was relatively certain he could have it. With just a little effort and sweet talk on his part, he could have her back in his bed. He could experience the delight of pinning her beneath him, of taking her, and of taking her over the edge.

  The problem was, when he was done, she’d hate him, which was more than adequate reason for him to keep his pants zipped and his hands to himself. He didn’t want her to hate him.

  So he concentrated on the road and drove her home like a gentleman, and, like a gentleman, he carried the bag with her biking clothes and walked her to her door.

  “See, that wasn’t so bad.” Was he talking to her or to himself? He wasn’t certain.

  “No,” she said softly. “Samantha is a super kid. I had a good time tonight.”

  “I think that’s the first time you’ve said that since we started seeing each other.”

  “Is it?” She thought a moment. “No. I clearly remember telling you that I’d had a wonderful time the night of the Wilmott Foundation dance.”

  “You’re right, you did. But I assumed that it had been canceled out by what happened afterward.”

  Raine turned away and stuck the key in the lock. A turn and a slight push opened it, sending a puff of warm air swirling past them. “It’s not that it was bad, you know. In fact, it was pretty … breathtaking.”

  “Breathtaking,” repeated Mason. He liked the sound of that. “Mm-mmm.” She nodded slowly, then looked up and met his eyes. “And breathtakingly wrong. For both of us.”

  There was no argument to be made on that point, so Mason just stood there with her bag, wishing he hadn’t been the one to put that pinched look at the corners of her eyes.

  “The game is at six tomorrow,” she said. “We have to start early because of the kids.”

  “Samantha and I will be here by five-thirty.”

  She nodded. “Okay. Good night.”

  “Good night.” And then he had to make the choice: kiss her as usual, or play it safe and just go home.

  He’d never been one to play it safe.

  He bent his head, and barely touched his lips to Raine’s. She didn’t bolt inside, so he tried again, lingering a bit longer this time to savor the sparks that jumped the gap between their bodies.

  When he reminded himself to pull away, the corners of her eyes had miraculously softened and the ghost of a smile curved her lips.

  “You’re right,” she said, her voice soft surrender. “It’s not so bad.”

  She took the bag out of his hand and stepped inside. The door closed quietly in his face.

  Mason walked back to the car a satisfied man. Sexually frustrated, but satisfied, nonetheless.

  That satisfaction quickly evaporated when he got home and found his mother installed in the living room with her petit point. She had that look, the one he equated with being scolded when he was eight, and with receiving the “I’m so disappointed in you” speech in college.

  He crossed straight through to the library and the wet bar, where he girded himself with a glass of scotch, reminded himself that he was under the influence of a love potion, then came back and plopped down on the couch directly across from her.

  “What?” he asked.

  Tish pushed the needle into the canvas and pulled the silk thread through with a thin, zipping sound. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Don’t play coy, Mother. You’re about to burst. What is it?”

  “You exaggerate,” said Tish. She took another tiny stitch. “I was just thinking about this evening. Samantha was quite taken with Miss Hobart.”

  Just as he’d thought. “Good. It was mutual. Raine likes her very much.”

  “And you’re pleased about that?”

  “Of course.” He took a sip of the scotch.

  “Do you really plan to take Samantha to that baseball game tomorrow night?”

  “It’s softball, and I do.”

  “Do you think it’s wise?”

  “To play softball? Well, Mother, I know it’s not polo or archery, but I’ll bet Sam will survive the experience.”

  “You are being deliberately obtuse.” Tish stabbed the needle into the canvas and tossed the piece aside. “I’m not talking about the game. I’m talking about continuing to expose your daughter to this temporary infatuation of yours.”

  Mason stared at her. “Temporary?”

  “It’s not fair to let her start building a relationship on such a flimsy foundation. She’s had too many people come and go in her life.”

  “Not because of my choices.”

  “I realize perfectly well it’s Elizabeth who’s done that to her, dragging all those men in and out of the house, but that’s precisely my point. You have always been the stable one, and Samantha counts on you for that. And now for you to introduce Miss Hobart into her life when you know very well she will be
gone as soon as Caroline gets back…”

  “She will?”

  “Of course she will. Mason, you haven’t any choice. Our financial situation has only gotten worse in the past week, what with the Everett line going down. You’ve told me yourself that Wickersham money is our last, best hope at turning Alexander Industries around. You’ve been working toward marriage to Caroline for months. You cannot just toss all that away over a fling.”

  “You’re right, of course, Mother. Not over a fling.”

  “Thank goodness,” she said.

  She wasn’t paying attention to him at all, Mason decided.

  “You must see how unfair it would be to let Samantha start thinking of Miss Hobart as a potential parent when it’s just not going to happen.”

  “You seem very sure of that. Don’t be.”

  She blinked twice, startled. “Mason…”

  “First, with all respect, I’m the one who decides to whom my daughter is exposed, not you. Raine is quite probably the best example of a rational woman my daughter has met in the past several years. Second, her name is Raine, and it’s time you started calling her that, because, third, it’s not a fling, it’s very serious.”

  “You only think so because—” She stopped herself.

  “Because what?” Mason held his breath for the impending confession.

  “Because your hormones are involved. You’ve confused sex with love.”

  Mason snorted, partly in amusement, partly in disappointment. “I stopped making that mistake years ago, Mother. Elizabeth trained it right out of me.”

  He set his glass aside. The heavy crystal clunked against the solid mahogany of the side table. “I assure you, the only confusion I have right now concerns how quickly it’s possible to plan a wedding.”

  “A wedding. By all the Powers, Mason, you’ve only known her a week!”

  “Ten days.” He went in for the kill. “But it doesn’t matter. I knew from the minute I saw Raine that I wanted her in my life forever.”

  “Oh, good Goddess.” Tish jumped up as though he’d poured hot coffee in her lap. “Mason, darling, please tell me you haven’t asked her yet.”

  “Not yet. But I plan—”

  “Don’t. Please. Just hold off a few days. Give yourself some time to think it through.”

  More likely for her and Miranda to work their counterspell. “I have thought it through.”

  “Then hold off for my sake. Promise me. Just sit on it, and if you’re still intent on this by next week, I will personally plan the wedding. One week.”

  He looked at her, wondering if he and Raine could actually survive another entire week of this.

  He nodded. “Okay, Mother. One week. But I warn you, that will give you that much less time to plan the wedding, because I’ll wait to ask her, but I’m not going to wait to marry her.”

  “Thank you, darling.” She practically ran out the door, her heels clicking across the oak floor in the foyer as she headed for the scrolled staircase. “Good night.”

  There was a half finger of scotch left in the glass, and as soon as Tish was safely upstairs, Mason lifted the glass in a toast.

  “To family, in all their glorious weirdness.” He tossed back that last swallow and got up to check doors and set the alarm system.

  It had been a good evening. Raine had forgiven him and, if he wasn’t mistaken, Mother and Miranda were making plans this very minute to reverse the spell.

  Just let them try.

  *

  Miranda stood at her bedroom window, staring out toward the carriage house, trying to think of some excuse to go out there. She’d been trying for two days.

  The lights were on in Paul’s quarters, so she knew he was in, probably working on his dissertation. Maybe she could find a book in the library to take out there under the pretense of offering it for his use.

  Maybe. If she knew what his topic was. Unfortunately, she didn’t, and if there was any better indication of how self-centered she’d been the past six years, she wasn’t sure what it could be.

  “Give it up, Miranda,” she said aloud. “You blew it long before Teddy jumped in the car.”

  A staccato knock rattled the door and Tish sailed in before she had time to answer.

  “Tish!”

  “I’m sorry, darling, but this is an emergency.” She pushed the door shut and flipped the lock. “We’ve got to reverse the potion.”

  “I know, but—”

  “No, I mean tonight. We have to do the counterspell tonight. He just told me he intends to marry her.”

  “Oh.” Miranda collapsed on the end of her bed, her head suddenly pounding. “When?”

  “Right away. I got him to promise to wait a week before he asked her, but I don’t trust him under the influence of that potion. It seems to be affecting him much more powerfully than I would have expected.”

  “The Book said the spell was unpredictable and powerful,” Miranda reminded her.

  “I know, darling, but this is ridiculous. We’re going to have to find a tidier love spell to use in the future. In the meantime, we must reverse this one tonight.”

  Miranda pushed her hands into her hair and tugged, to distract herself from the throbbing in her brain. “But the moon’s not right. It may not work.”

  “Then we’ll repeat it tomorrow and the night after and the night after that, until it does work. But we must at least try before this becomes a total disaster. Where is the Book of Shadows?”

  “In the sanctuary. Everything we need is there.”

  “Then get your robes, darling. It’s only an hour until midnight.”

  She sailed back out of the room. Miranda just stood there, staring after her, wishing she had a way out.

  She wasn’t ready to do this, to take away the happiness she’d seen in Mason’s eyes. Not without figuring out a few things first.

  However, with Mason ready to take the irretrievable step of marriage, there wasn’t time for analysis. She had to assume that she and Tish had been right from the outset, that Mason and Caroline belonged together, as Mason intended, and that the love potion had to be neutralized.

  She went to the closet for her robe.

  Forty-five minutes later, head still whirling, she joined her mother in the glen beyond the rose garden to cast the circle. The tools they used were simple: a wand to draw the circle, sea salt to cleanse it, and candles for each element of the compass.

  They went around the circle clockwise, carving out a sacred space from the mundane world and summoning the elemental presence for each corner, beginning in the East with a white candle for Air, then continuing with orange for Fire and the South, blue for Water and the West, and green for the Earth and the North.

  Finally they came together in the center to light the fire in the iron brazier, invoking the Goddess of Love to give their circle power and protection. Tish dropped herbs onto the flames to enhance their purpose: rue, to open one’s eyes to mistakes, and lavender to rid one of old ideas. The air grew heavy with the perfume of the herbs and the cedary smell of the smoke.

  Tish laid out the objects of the spell on a flat stone. Beside them, she opened the Book of Shadows to the page marked by a ribbon.

  “It’s time.”

  A shiver of trepidation ran down Miranda’s spine as Tish began to read the words:

  “Aphrodite, hear our plight…”

  Miranda listened, trying to focus on the rightness of what they were doing for Mason and having very little luck.

  “…Love was never theirs to share.”

  Her voice ringing with certainty, Tish named Raine and Mason and called on the Goddess to negate the misbegotten love between them. As she wound up the incantation, she lifted a wooden arrow from the flat stone.

  “Cupid’s arrow on its flight

  Has by our fault gone astray.

  Now we set our error right,

  To try again another day.”

  On these words, Tish broke the arrow and tossed the pieces in
the fire. Sparks flew skyward to dance with the tiny insects drawn in by the light.

  “Miranda?”

  Miranda looked up, startled and guilty.

  “The bottle,” prompted Tish.

  The blue bottle lay on the stone, a large cobble beside it. Moving mechanically, Miranda lifted the cobble and broke the bottle into a myriad of pieces.

  “I break this bottle as a token

  Of the magick to be broken

  Bottle shattered, arrow burned.

  Goddess, let this spell be turned.”

  They repeated the last lines three times while Tish dug a small hole with a trowel. When she finished, Miranda swept the pieces of the bottle into the hole and they buried them.

  “It is finished,” intoned Tish. “So mote it be.”

  “So mote it be.”

  They thanked the Goddess and released the circle from the center out, extinguishing the candles in the reverse order, finishing with the traditional witches’ farewell, “Merry meet and merry part, and merry meet again.”

  When it was done and the only light was from the fire, Tish sighed.

  “I can feel a difference already. Aren’t you glad we did this?”

  Miranda couldn’t find an honest answer. “You look tired. Go on to bed, I’ll stay with the fire until it’s out.”

  “Are you sure, darling?”

  Miranda nodded.

  When her mother had gone, she loaded everything into the big garden trug they used to carry things, then sat and watched the fire burn down.

  Poor Mason. If this worked, his feelings for Raine were burning out the same way right now. Whether that love had been destined or not, that was a sad thing.

  When the last embers barely showed red, she poured the jug of water they always brought for such things over the ashes and stirred the sludge with a stick.

  There was a flashlight in the trug, and although she could see just fine to work in the dark, she took it out to make one final check to see if she’d missed anything. As the beam played past the flat stone, it caught a glint of blue in the grass. Miranda bent and picked it up.

  It was a piece of the bottle which she’d somehow missed burying with the others.

  On it were two words in silver. For Love.

  *