Collection 1
Page 25
“Actually there was no real harm done, except that Vaughn said Vicky liked Miss Rayleigh and she was very disappointed the woman wasn’t going to be her nanny.”
Back at his flat, War wanted nothing better than to ring Miss Rayleigh’s pretty neck, but it was too late to call on her. The morning would be soon enough, and hopefully his temper might have cooled somewhat by then. He doubted that notion and read the daily paper before retiring for the night. But…he found it hard to get a good night’s sleep because the lady detective’s beautiful face kept weaving into his subconscious mind. By morning his temper had not abated, in fact, he was more annoyed for losing sleep over that wench! As he was leaving the apartment a young man approached. “Sir, are you Anwar Radcliffe?”
“Aye,” he nodded and was handed an envelope by the messenger. He thanked the fellow and handed him a few coins. He recognized Dorene’s handwriting before he read:
Dear Anwar, sorry to inform you that your father was found dead this morning, by the cook. He let the paper fall not sure what to feel, but he knew damn well he was not sorry for the man’s demise. And the irony was that he had just mentioned that fact to his stepmother yesterday. He couldn’t or wouldn’t shed a tear for that man but he immediately went to saddle Goldie and rode out to the estate. The scene that met him was solemn. Leola and Dorene were in the living room talking to a gentleman he assumed was the doctor or corner. Doreen was the first to see him enter the room and ran into his arms.
“On War, I’m so sorry,” she sniffled. He pattered her back, feeling guilty that he couldn’t feel the same emotions. He looked over her head to see his stepmother dabbing her wet eyes with a handkerchief. He knew the woman loved his father, and again he couldn’t feel any remorse for the man. His sire only caused pain and heartbreak to the ones who had loved him.
He spent the day going through his father’s affairs, and sending letter’s to the old man’s creditors promising that when the estate was sold, all debts would be paid in full. He let the cook go with two weeks wages and Vaughn Patman arrived with the promise to acquire a special license to marry his sister, doing away with the bands that usually were posted in the paper. It was not until three days later, after his sister’s wedding, that he sent a message to Miss Rayleigh informing the lady why he wasn’t available to see her. She answered him saying she’d see him on Friday at two in the afternoon. He was ready.
Chapter Six
Renny had spent the last four days in a terrible mood.
Where the hell was that man?
The day after that humiliating experience with the Earl of Balakirev, Mr. Radcliffe never showed up for his appointment. She had no idea where he lived but he had mentioned that he had been staying at a men’s club in London for a few days. How foolish of her not asked which club?
Luckily for her brothers they knew enough to stay away and her father simply shook his head, asking her why she was in such a blue funk. She had no truthful answer, so she made one-up, saying that her business was slow. But then, that was truth anyway; her only client was an old lady who had lost her poodle.
So peeved on the forth day at Mr. Radcliffe, she’d unconsciously snapped her fingers in her room, changing her bed into pile of sand, her dresser into a tree, that soon her room became an oasis, including a snake charmer. And, poor Pepper, he had the misfortune to fly into the open window as she snapped her fingers turning him into a camel. Renny didn’t realized what she had done until the camel spit into her face. She quickly returned her bedroom into its natural state and apologized to Pepper.
“Squawk! Your powers have improved, I must say. What’s going on while I was away, kido?”
Renny pouted, and made sure her bed was still there before she sat on it.
“I had a client who made it his business to embarrassed me! And he’s not around so that I can turn him into a…ohhh! I could spit to the moon!”
She went to snap her fingers and the raven squawked. “Hold on there, kido, remember we have an agreement. I’ll forgive you this time, but---”
Someone knocked on her door.
“Mistress, I have a message for you. It was just delivered.”
She opened the door and the housekeep, Ellen Barkmeier handed her the sealed envelop. “Thank you Ellen.” The servant bobbed and left. Renny frowned not recognizing the waxed seal. She retrieved her letter opener from her writing table, slashed the envelop, and pulled out the paper. The letterhead caught her eye immediately.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” she ranted.
“Squawk! That’s my cue to leave. Bye.”
In gold letters were printed: Count Anwar Rainer Radcliffe, the Third.
“Damn, he never had the gumption to admit he was a count!” she ranted aloud. Then she read on and discovered he had a logical reason for missing their appointment. Renny was sincerely sorry his father had died, but that was not an excuse for what he had done to her! She was still pissed at him. He stated that the funeral was tomorrow and he would be free to see her any day after that. She sat at her desk and answered his letter making an appointment for him to come on Friday, at two in the afternoon.
She was ready for him!
And the timing was perfect. Her father was taking her brothers into the country to visit a cousin for the week, the place will be hers.
That evening at the supper table, she put on a happy face which did not go unnoticed by her father.
“Well, sweet pea, ‘tis nice to see you smiling again.”
“She’s probably happy because we’re going away for the week and she’ll be all alone,” her brother’s grumbled in unison. She suspected that they didn’t want to take the trip, they never liked their cousin, Bartholomew. The lad was a few years their senior and a bit of a stuff shirt.
“So he beats you at croquette, boys.” She tried not to laugh at their sour expression. “I know you can beat him at cards. But I want you two to behave, and be the gentlemen you are supposed to be, you understand?” she said with authority and narrowed her eyes giving them a, do-not-use-your-powers-on-the lad, look.
Luckily, she was with them last year when they turn their cousin into a croquette ball for an hour. When she had discovered that his family couldn’t find Bartholomew she grilled her brothers and after they controlled their fit of laughter, they confessed what they had done. She turned her cousin back and the poor boy had no memory of what happened and why he suffered from a headache, a black eye and a swollen nose. To this day his parents believed he had been in a fight and lost consciousness. Renny couldn’t condone what they had done, but she understood why they did it. Bartholomew loved to taunt her brothers.
York and Yale looked at one another and smirked. Her father was busy eating and she glared at them with a warning and a shake of a finger. They shrugged and nodded but she was not convinced they would behave.
“Papa, I would like to give the cook the week off while you’re away. ’Tis time for her to have a vacation anyway and I don’t need help while you and the boys are gone.”
He put down his fork for a moment, wiped his mouth with a napkin and asked, “What about your meals?”
“Aw, papa, I can whip up something and I don’t mind eating out once in awhile. I’m receiving a client Friday and I’m due for a payment for my service,” she replied, misstating the truth. I wouldn’t take a shilling from that bastard! she said to herself.
“All right, I’ll see to the matter tonight. Ellen has been complaining about her rheumatism so I’m sure she’ll be pleased.”
“Is your client that handsome man who came too see you awhile back?” asked York.
“Yeah, I bet she’s planning a little hanky-panky,” teased Yale.
Renny fumed at their taunt but they had to get back at her one way or another. “You two can’t be further from the truth, he’s just another client,” she snapped back.
To bad he’s so handsome. It would be a shame to turn him into frog with warts. No, that’s too good for him. He’s an ass! Now that would be
more appropriate!
“---probably thinking of him right now.”
She missed a few of York‘s words, but he was right, she was imagining the count with long ears, a mangy tail and big yellow teeth.
“Boys, behave, your sister is a lady and I trust her.”
They snorted.
Two in the afternoon, that Friday, couldn’t have arrived soon enough to suit her. Renny wondered why she was primping and preening in front of the mirror and trying to look her best. She wore her favorite dress, which was cut square across her bosom, showing more cleavage than she normally did. She had to take every advantage she could think about, because she wanted to feel only apathy for that count, and lately his face was disturbing her sleep. She had to remain aloof, in control of her emotions, stay angry. Damn, why was he so good looking.
Stay focused, stay calm, show more cleavage, she pulled down her bodice. Play dirty. Men are all alike. Use your whiles.
The knock the front door almost made her jump out of her skin.
You’re tough, you’re a duke’s daughter. By God, you’re a witch! You have the upper hand. Renny never felt so nervous and out of control no matter how much she told herself otherwise.
Each step she took down the stairs, she said aloud, “He’s only human.”
Too human.
He’s only a mere mortal.
Too mortal.
Only a man.
Oh, what a man!
Remember, what he did to you! her wise voice whispered into her ear.
What? Renny groaned and stiffened her back to greet the count. He could go to the devil for all she cared! She opened the door and his smile was exuberant.
She was lost.
Chapter Seven
Remember, he made a fool out you!
Stiffening her spine, Renny plastered her best smile on her face as she gritted her teeth. She could feel her smile tighten and managed to speak though her clenched jaw.
“Hello, please come in.” She swept aside and he entered with his hat in his hand. Before he could speak, she gave her condolences on his father’s demise. The man in turn thanked her and followed her into the parlor.
So much for niceties, she thought and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me that you were the son of a count?” His left brow raised just a smidgen. One might not have noticed if one wasn’t gazing at his handsome face so closely.
“I didn’t think it was necessary,” he replied dryly. “Why did you go to Earl Vaughan Putman’s estate?” he changed the subject onto her. “I hired you to find the man who---”
“You hired me to make a fool out of me!” she shouted at him. “Why?” This time when his left brow rose, it was very noticeable. His eyes grew darker at her sharp words.
“Miss Rayleigh, you need to be put in your place!” he said curtly, his voice rose in volume.
Renny knew she looked hurt and she was annoyed at her weakness for letting it get under her skin. She folded her arms and she didn’t miss where his gaze landed. She tried not to let the strange sensation in her stomach affect her and she snapped, “What place is that?”
“Miss Rayleigh, you belong sewing, tending to household duties, doing womanly things, not snooping and ruining other people’s lives.”
“Bloody, bloody hell! You arrogant, chauvinistic man,” she stabbed a finger in his chest. His brown eyes glowed like hot cinders and his nostrils flared with fury, making her lose some of her bravery, but she wouldn’t back down and neither did the count.
“If you hadn’t given my fiancé false information, I’d still be engaged to her.”
Stab, stab. “Maybe you should thank me for that! She’s nothing but a spoiled brat.” Although it was the truth, she knew it was an unfair remark. He grabbed her hand and she pulled away. The physical contact sent shivers up her spine.
“Who are you to tell me---”
“Look,” she was trembling inside because his nearness was causing havoc with her senses. He smelled so good. Swallowing, she rasped, “I made a mistake but that was no reason to trick me, you insufferable brute!”
“I think I’ve had enough of your name calling, throwing your words at me like stones. I’m sure that mouth can be used for better things like, maybe this.”
His last words were smothered on her lips as he swooped down on her unexpectedly and kissed her. He sucked her breath away, making her swallow the angry retort on the tip of her tongue.
This wouldn’t do. No, not at all! He wasn’t going to humiliate her again.
But it was just a simple kiss . A glorious little kiss, egged the voice in her head.
That may be but, it made my body burn and tremble and yearn. He had to go. This was wrong, her smart-self argued back.
She pulled away and snapped her fingers. They would start over.
This time when she answered the door to let him in, she would handle the situation differently.
“Hello, please come in Count Radcliffe.” She swept aside and he entered with his hat in his hand. If he was surprised that she knew he was now a count, he didn’t show it on his handsome face. Before he could speak, she gave her condolences on his father’s demise. The man in turn thanked her and followed her into the parlor.
Renny turned and before he could attack her with what she knew was coming, she said, “Sir, I own you an apology. I should never have gone to see Earl Vaughan Putman at his estate. I do know why you trick me into thinking that Dorene Woodrow was you mistress and not your sister. You were angry at me for breaking off your engagement with Sissy. You have every right to be and I do apologize sincerely.”
She allowed herself a big sigh, and continued her act of humility, which wasn’t easy for her, but it was well worth it seeing the man standing there as if he had been struck by lightning.
“I should have found out the truth before ruining your reputation.”
The surprised expression on his face was priceless. What could he say to her? She had said it all. Good!
What the hell just happened?
War didn’t know what it felt like to be shell-shocked, but what he was feeling now might come close. It was as if Renny Rayleigh had read his mind. Damn, the woman had no right to turn the tables on him, trying to make him feel as if he was the villain here. Shit! He stood there like a dummy, and maybe he was, because that’s just how he felt.
He regarded her with a cool eye while trying to make some sense out of what had just happened. It was bad enough that he was speechless but her sensuous appeal in that damned reveling dress was causing him to unravel. Well, she wasn’t going to get away with this so easily. He might not have said what he had come to say but, he wasn’t going home without taking something. And he knew just what he was going to take!
In a few short steps, he closed the gap between them and swooped her into his arms. The kiss was to punish and humiliate her, but her sweet lips tasted like honey and it sent the pit of his stomach into a wild swirl. His tongue danced around hers and he realized that he was the one being punished. Her firm breasts were pressing into his chest and he wanted more than just the kiss, he wanted to ravish her and he couldn’t. This whole situation had gone completely wrong. When he left her mouth, she was breathing heavily and he believed she was just as affected as he.
“Not again!” the woman rasped and she snapped her fingers.
Chapter Eight
What the hell?
War stood before the large oak door thinking he had just lost his mind. It felt as if he had been hit with a bout of de-javu and he shook his head to clear it. What the hell is going on here? He pounded on the door and when it opened he barged in. Miss Rayleigh’s eyes grew wide, appearing quite startled and she jumped back.
“Oh, Count Radcliffe, please come in. I’m sorry about your father and I want to apologize…”
He made no attempt at politeness and grabbed her hand dragging her into the parlor. “What did you just do to me?”
The woman blinked and gasped. “Whatever do you mean?”
She went completely white and let out a shaky breath. “Oh! No, no, you can not remember. Oh my, I must be losing my magic, um, I mean my powers must be. Oh dear me, I…” She bit her bottom lip.
He shook her. “Stop babbling. What magic? What powers?” He sputtered, “Dear Lord, a-are you a w-witch?” He almost choked on that notion and then laughed. “No, I can’t believe I just said that.” She swooned back and he grabbed her “You’re not…are you?”
The woman took a few big gulps of air and rubbed her temples as if she were in pain.
“No, I mean, yes. Oh, this never happened before,” she replied querulously.
“What? The kiss?” he ventured.
“No, I mean yes. Oh, I don’t know what I mean. My magic is not strong but no one has ever recalled me using my powers on them before. It must have been the kiss Yes, it screwed up my train of thought,” she mumble to herself.
“You are a witch then?” It was a question and a statement.
She nodded.
War racked his hand through his hair, his thoughts already running in another direction. Damn, a witch! Jeeze, the woman could turn him into a frog. God, this was preposterous, insane! No, he was insane for believing this. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear anymore.
There’s no such things as witches, are there? Besides, Miss Rayleigh is too damn pretty to be one.
What the hell are you thinking?
“Maybe I should try again,” she continued to mutter to herself. “I’ll just snap my fingers and you…”
War immediately snapped out of his foolish thoughts at her comment and grabbed her hands. “There’ll be no snapping of fingers, Miss Rayleigh!” He emphasized his anger with a rude oath. “Sit and explain the truth to me, though I’ll probably regret it. Now, what do you mean by the kiss unbalancing your thoughts.” He was aware of her stricken look as she pulled away from him. She sat down, twisting her fingers into the folds of her dress, looking very confused, but she couldn’t be more befuddled than he.