Mr. Hyde’s Assets

by Sheridon Smythe

  Candice screamed.

  ———

  Another turn and he’d have the pipe loose. Austin grunted and muttered a curse beneath his breath, not caring if the hovering, suspicious housekeeper heard him. He tightened his grip on the wrench and squeezed. One more twist and—

  Candice’s scream echoed through the house. Startled, Austin jumped, bumping his head on the sink. The pipe came loose, spewing water onto his already damp shorts, the floor, and Mrs. Merryweather’s shoes.

  Austin jumped to his feet, ignoring the gushing water. “What the hell was that?” he demanded, staring at the housekeeper’s wide-eyed expression.

  For the first time, Mrs. Merryweather looked flustered—downright scared, in fact. She clutched her bosom. “Why, I think it’s Mrs. Dale!”

  She spun and headed for the stairs, Austin at her heels. She didn’t move fast enough for him, and as he raced past her, he shouted over his shoulder, “Which way?” Dammit, he had no idea where he was going. The housekeeper had said east, but he wasn’t certain which room. Raw terror urged him on. That scream had chilled his blood and nearly stopped his heart. Visions of murderous in-laws filled his mind.

  “End of the hall, to your right!” Mrs. Merryweather puffed from behind him.

  Austin stretched his legs in an all-out run, reaching the room and skidding to a stop in the doorway. His heart did the same when he say Candice lying on the floor, still as death.

  Mrs. Merryweather nearly ran into him. “Dear God, what happened?”

  Austin knelt beside Candice, frantic at the sight of her pale face. “I think she’s fainted.”

  Mrs. Merryweather hovered over them. “Should I call the doctor?”

  Austin felt for a pulse, sighing in relief to find it steady and strong. “Yes, call the doctor! Now! What are you waiting for?” He’d never felt so helpless in his life. Why had she fainted? Was she going to be all right? Was something wrong with the baby? Did this have anything to do with the baby? Oh, why hadn’t he finished that damned book Jack had given him?

  Mrs. Merryweather dropped the phone, scrambled to pick it up again, and began dialing, mumbling beneath her breath. Her forehead was a mass of concerned wrinkles as she kept darting glances at Candice, then back at the phone.

  Austin gently lifted Candice in his arms. Why, she was as light as a feather! No wonder she had fainted; she was starving herself. And she looked so damned pale. Fear clawed his gut, and he didn’t stop to wonder how he had become so concerned for this woman so soon. At this moment all he could think about was how badly he wanted her to open her eyes.

  He lay her gently on top of the satin goose-down comforter before checking to see if Mrs. Merryweather had managed to dial the phone.

  She had, thank God.

  “Dr. Robinson? Mrs. Merryweather here. Mrs. Dale has fainted or something. She screamed, and then we found her lying on the floor… Yes, we’ve got her on the bed now. Yes, Mr. Hyde checked her pulse.” There was a long pause, then Mrs. Merryweather said impatiently, “He’s the handyman. No, he wasn’t with her at the time. No one was. No, there wasn’t any excitement that I know of. Yes, she had lunch…”

  Austin rounded the bed, his mouth set with grim determination. He wanted answers, and he wanted them now. “Give me the phone.” Mrs. Merryweather didn’t argue. Instead, she took over his vigil by the bed, smoothing Candices brow and patting her limp hand.

  Gripping the phone, Austin snapped into the receiver, “This is Austin Hyde. I want to know why Mrs. Vanausdale fainted!”

  After a startled pause, the doctor reminded Austin of her condition, which escalated Austin’s blood pressure. “I know she’s pregnant, but what does that have to do with fainting?”

  Mrs. Merryweather spoke up. “Maybe she’s been working too hard.”

  She flinched when Austin swung a fierce gaze her way. “Working? What the hell is she doing working? Isn’t that what you’re getting paid for? Where are the other maids? Where’s the rest of the household staff? There must be more maids in a house this size.” He glanced around, noticing for the first time how quiet the house was. And no sign of anyone other than Candice and Mrs. Merryweather.

  Mrs. Merryweather huffed. “I do my job, mister, and I can’t keep on her every second of the day. She sneaks around and—”

  The doctor temporarily forgotten, Austin burned with an irrational anger. “You should have—”

  “Don’t you go blaming me, young man! As for what happened to the staff, that’s none of your business, and Mrs. Dale would tell you so herself if she could, the poor dear. In fact, she’s likely worn out from saving your useless butt from drowning!”

  That accusation stopped Austin cold. Guilt swamped him. Maybe it was his fault. God, what if her impromptu rescue had really hurt her or the baby? He’d never forgive himself!

  An indistinguishable noise from the bed interrupted their spat. In unison, they turned to look at Candice, who was now stirring on the comforter. Austin moved closer, his relief so great, he thought he’d have to sit down. The bed looked good. Hell, right now the floor looked inviting.

  Her voice sounded weak but clear. “It’s not your fault, Mr. Hyde. Someone was looking through my window.” She tried to sit up, and the housekeeper jumped to arrange the pillows behind her. “He pressed his face against the windowpane and it scared the daylights out of me. I guess that’s when I fainted.”

  It took a moment for her words to sink in. When they did, Austin dropped the phone and headed for the window. “Mrs. Merryweather, get rid of the doctor and call the police,” he ordered.

  Chapter Five

  “No!”

  Austin’s bare feet came to a halt at Candice’s startled exclamation. He turned with a frown, his mind on catching the intruder. “What? Don’t call the police? Why in hell—”

  “Watch your mouth, young man!”

  They both ignored Mrs. Merryweather.

  Candice said, “Because if you call them, it will be all over the papers tomorrow. I don’t want the publicity.”

  “I know someone who…”. Austin trailed off as Candice adamantly shook her head. Damn, but she was hardheaded. He tried again. “This guy is a friend who—”

  “No, Mr. Hyde. No police. I’m fine, and whoever it was is long gone by now.”

  The stubborn tilt of her chin convinced Austin she wouldn’t change her mind. Okay, so willfulness was a good trait, wasn’t it? Maybe their child would inherit—

  Wait a minute! The safety of his child was at stake here. “Maybe you need a little time to think about this.”

  Mrs. Merryweather stepped forward as if to intervene, but Austin stopped her with a warning look. He was tired of her bullying. “Mrs. Merryweather, I’m sure Mrs. Dale would like a cold glass of something after her ordeal.”

  Beneath his burning gaze, Candice nodded. The housekeeper huffed and stomped from the room. After she was gone, Austin moved to the bed and gazed down at Candice. She looked fragile and lovely, this woman who carried his child. Yet she had to be strong to fight her late husband’s family and bring a child into the world alone.

  A lump formed in his throat. He thought about Jack, and how lucky his brother was to be alive. It was Jack’s fault he was here, worrying himself to a frazzle over a wealthy widow who could hire ten burly guards but obviously didn’t have the common sense to do it.

  Damn Jack.

  He sat on the edge of the bed and held her gaze for a long moment. The lump in his throat got bigger, for she returned his unwavering stare with big eyes filled with both strength and vulnerability. Softly, he asked, “What’s the real reason you don’t want the police involved? Did you recognize the man?”

  “No, I didn’t know him.” She hesitated, dropping her gaze as if to gather her strength. When she lifted it again, there was a hard glint in her eyes. “This kind of thing has happened before, someone on the property peeking and the police never find out who it is.”

  “But there’s a story the next day? In
the papers?” Austin was beginning to see what she was getting at. “So you think it’s a plan of some kind, just to get your name bounced around in the tabloids?” He watched her swallow. Damned if it didn’t make him hungry. What was it about this woman? Rich women never appealed to him, yet this one…

  “It seems that way. And now, with you here…”

  Ah, he got it. “With me here, they’d really have a field day, huh?” She was a fast thinker. He liked that. Rubbing his chin, he mimicked, “Lonely Heiress Hires Love Slave!” She laughed, and it seemed natural that his hand found hers. A small, fragile hand that held hidden strength. “Hey, you’re pretty sharp for a—” He stopped, thinking she probably wouldn’t appreciate that brand of male humor. He had to remember who she was.

  Rich, pregnant, and a confirmed widow.

  “Woman?” she supplied with a shy but teasing smile. “Should I take that as a compliment?”

  “Well, of course.” He laughed with her, deciding he liked this side of Candice Vanausdale. Maybe she should faint more often. No! He took that thought back. He never wanted to go through that hell again.

  Knowing Mrs. Merryweather would charge into the room at any moment, Austin asked a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind. “Don’t you have any family that could stay with you until… ?”

  A shadow crossed her face, making Austin regret his stupid question. He hadn’t meant to make her sad or distress her in any way. Hadn’t he read in that damned book that stress was bad for pregnant women?

  “My mother died when I was eight. I’ve got a stepfather, but we don’t communicate often.”

  Austin sensed she really didn’t want to talk about it. Fine by him. He just wanted to know a little of her history, since she was going to have his baby. Speaking of which, he couldn’t seem to get that fact out of his mind for longer than a few seconds. Was he, then, actually warming to the idea? Impossible!

  Crazy.

  Damn Jack!

  “Thank you for coming to my rescue once again.”

  Well, hell, why did she have to go and sound so sincere? Austin knew he was about to overstep his bounds then, but he couldn’t stop himself. Yes, he was probably moving too fast, but how else was he to get to know her? Certainly not with Mrs. Merryweather breathing down his neck. “You need to relax more, you know. All this stress is bad for the baby.”

  “Oh? And what would you know about that?”

  His lips twitched at the sparkle in her eyes. He sobered fast. Indeed, what did he know? More importantly, why would he know? Think fast. Hyde! “Well, I’ve done some research.”

  “So you said earlier. Why?”

  Was there a hint of suspicion in her voice? Nah, probably just his paranoia. Still, he’d better make it good to make it believable.

  Of course! Jack.

  “Actually, I sometimes helped Jack study when he was in pre-med. You know, for finals and term papers and all. He had planned to become a doctor.”

  “I’m not surprised. He’s a very intelligent man, and very knowledgeable about many aspects of medicine.”

  That pucker between her brows made him want to kiss it away. God, she was gorgeous. He cleared his throat and tried to jerk his mind back to the subject at hand. What was it? Oh, why he knew what he knew about pregnancy and babies. “Anyway, I guess a lot of it stuck in my head. Like the fact that you should laugh more.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. And not worry.” He tried to look his most serious as he dropped what he was pretty certain was an outright lie. “And eat a wide variety foods. In fact, I think you and I should have pizza tonight. My treat. My place—uh, your place—over the garage.”

  His heart thumped loudly as he waited for her reaction to his bold invitation. Gently, he reached up and closed her mouth. She tortured him by licking her lips.

  “Mrs. Merryweather would—”

  “Doesn’t the woman sleep at all?” He was whispering now, his eyes on her mouth. No need for lipstick. She had a curvy mouth, a kissable mouth. “Can’t you sneak out?” Just the two of them, coconspirators. What a dirty dog he was.

  Well, hell, his motives were pure, weren’t they? He wanted to get to know the mother of his child, and he wanted to keep her healthy. She looked too strung out, and no wonder. Anyone with her problems would suffer stress. He was just trying to help. Nothing wrong with that, right? Then why was he whispering and watching the door?

  “Okay.”

  Austin’s eyes widened. “Okay? You will?”

  She smiled slowly. It was a beautiful, winsome smile, and Austin’s heart lurched in response. Damn Jack.

  “Why not? I can trust you, can’t I?”

  What a rotten, lowlife—

  “Mr. Hyde?” A tiny note of uncertainty crept into her voice. “Can’t I?”

  “Yes, of course.” His own smile felt painful and fraudulent. “I’m harmless, aren’t I?”

  About as harmless as Jack with his specimens.

  Hoping he didn’t look as guilty as he felt, Austin stood. “I’m going outside to check things out—after I shut the water off under the sink.” At her puzzled look, Austin started to explain, but at that moment Mrs. Merryweather’s angry muttering reached their ears. Her voice grew in volume as she drew nearer.

  “… water everywhere! Take me hours to mop it up! Handyman, ha! If he’s a handyman, I’m Cindy Crawford.”

  Candice glanced at the door in total bewilderment. “What—”

  Austin shushed her. “I’ll explain later. I’d better go while the goings good.”

  Her hand shook as she applied a light shade of lipstick.

  Mr. Hyde had stared at her lips.

  Candice leaned forward and studied her reflection in the mirror, wondering if he’d found some flaw. Howard had never complained about her mouth—one of the few things he hadn’t complained about—other than to lecture her about making certain her lipstick was fresh and never smeared.

  No. Not thoughts of Howard, not now.

  Candice pulled a tissue from the box and wiped the lipstick from her lips. She then set them in a determined line and mentally reminded herself that she didn’t care what anyone thought about her lips or any other part of her. It was what she thought that counted, right? Besides, wearing lipstick would draw attention to her mouth, and if Mr. Hyde had found something wrong…

  As she stared into the mirror, her expression suddenly crumpled. What was she doing? Sneaking around, waiting for Mrs. Merryweather to go to her room upstairs, wondering what Mr.

  Hyde thought of her mouth. Anticipating seeing him again.

  The handyman.

  So? She wasn’t a snob, had never been a snob. She came from a poor family, had even worked hard for a living herself. Howard had been the snob, and his years of brainwashing were trying to take hold now.

  But Howard was dead, and Candice reminded herself that his beliefs had never been her own. Now she could think for herself again, and she liked her way of thinking. Watching the mirror, she squared her shoulders and softened her mouth. There. Now, that was more like the old Candice. Before Howard. Before her mother had died. Before she realized that her stepfather hated her.

  Mr. Hyde was nice, and funny, and he seemed to be harmless. Yes, he was handsome, very much so, in a shivery, dangerous sort of way. And was big. And tawny. Like a lion.

  But harmless. Gentle. She was sure of it. She suspected he sensed her loneliness, but she felt secure that as long as she kept things on a platonic level, so would Mr. Hyde.

  Just as a self-reminder, she would continue to call him Mr. Hyde. That should do the trick.

  Satisfied with her rationale, Candice smoothed a nonexistent wrinkle from her white silk shirt and tugged on the split skirt in a boring shade of gray. She really should go shopping now that she could pick her own clothes. But she still hated to go out. Invariably, she was recognized and harassed. Maybe she should try ordering from a catalog. She frowned. And get more of the same elegant, boring clothes s
he wore now?

  Not a chance!

  Flicking off the bathroom light in case Mrs. Merryweather happened to look in, Candice moved silently to the sliding doors and let herself out onto the dimly lit patio.

  She was nervous. Extremely so. What if she were wrong about Mr. Hyde? She should have called Dr. Jack and asked some questions. She should have confessed to Mrs. Merryweather so someone would at least know where she was. This was the most reckless thing she had ever done, and—

  Stop being paranoid! Candice stopped at the edge of the back drive leading to the garage and took a deep breath. It was just a friendly get-together for pizza. That was all it was and ever would be. They came from two different worlds, and—

  No. That didn’t matter, and it wasn’t true anyway. Mr. Hyde possessed plenty of admirable assets; they just weren’t monetary. He had a beautiful smile, wit, whimsy, and a mischievous nature that made her feel warm and giggly, more like her old self again.

  But Mr. Hyde was a stranger. Yet did that matter? They were only having pizza, not getting married. She wasn’t ever going to marry again, so why even think about it? She patted her stomach fondly. No wicked stepfather for this child.

  But she couldn’t resist the lure of companionship, the promise of friendship. Besides, he made her laugh. Her sandals crunched on the gravel as she forced herself to move on. He’d said ten o’clock, for an early “midnight” snack—an hour after Mrs. Merryweather generally retired for the night. According to her watch, she was exactly on time.

  The steps leading to the apartment over the garage loomed ahead. At the top of the landing, a small light glowed. Butterflies danced in her stomach. Her palms began to sweat. Friendship, friendship, she recited beneath her breath as she climbed the wooden steps. Nothing to it. All there was to it.

  She was just out of practice. Howard had been jealous and critical of the few friends she’d tried to cultivate during their marriage.

  No Howard tonight. Nada. None. Zip.

  Candice closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and knocked quietly on the door. Mrs. Merryweather had ears like a hawk, and sound carried on the warm, still night air.