“David,” I said as soon as the constables started combing the house. “I know that we’re old friends but why—“
“Actually,” David said with a sigh, his modulated announcer’s voice sounding tired. “I’m afraid you have nothing to do with why I’m here with my officers.”
Leading me back out to the helipad, he explained, “I got a call from the powers-that-be on Talisman about five minutes after you reported the crime scene.”
“They found out about it that fast?” I asked, seeing Fraidy taking his place close to my ankles, and wondering where Shade went off to.
“Scuttlebutt is that they keep some sort of stock ticker to keep them apprised of what all is going on in my department,” David noted with disgust. “Doesn’t matter…the fact is that I’m here to provide political cover for one of our most prominent—“
“Bitches?” I asked without humor.
“—citizens dying in her own home,” David finished without missing a beat. “Could be an accident, for all we know, but—“ he trailed off.
“David, there’s something I should tell you about that,” I said quickly.
“You saw the killer?” David asked, transitioning from disgruntled to interested in the same amount of time it had taken Nebula to die.
“Not exactly,” I admitted. Then I laid out the scrye spell that I had used; giving him all the details of what I had seen and felt. David had whipped out a pen and notepad while I was talking, a habit he’d kept from his own constable days.
As he finished up his notes, he asked, “What were you doing here anyway, Hattie?”
“Making a delivery of Wraithsgourd, plus some Mother Night hair dye,” I said. “Everything you see now is just the way we found it when we went through the house.”
“Sir,” one of the constables said from the door. “We found someone stock still in the kitchen. Looks like a golem.”
“Ahh, there was one thing I did do,” I added to David. “I moved the pot from the stove. The water in it was boiling over.”
David made a note of that and asked, “We got someone who can revive the golem?”
“Already working on it, sir,” the constable called back.
“Good,” David said, looking at his officer for the first time. “As soon as it’s conscious, start interviewing it.”
When the constable was out of earshot, David said; “You know, between moving that pot and the scrye spell, you’re a little too close to interfering with a police investigation.”
“I found the golem first,” I said in my defense. “Between the state she was in and all the lights being off, I knew something was wrong.”
“It’s a fair point,” David said, taking yet more notes. “I’ll have my people do some scrye spells of their own just to verify what you saw.”
Flipping the notepad closed, he sighed again as he pocketed it and the pen. “I really wish you’d gotten a better look at that person you saw in the scrying vision. It could have made this case a lot easier.”
I knew what David meant. While Nebula Dreddock was adored and admired by a loyal fan base worldwide, she was known to be an absolute bitch in private. After our shop’s first delivery to her residence, Millie had threatened to quit if I ever made her do a supply run up to the Spires again. My assistant’s impression of Nebula was backed up by plenty of anecdotal evidence from various fashion designers, interior decorators, and makeup artists. The last one of the latter had quit a month ago, which was why Nebula was alone when she died.
“Well, look at this way, David,” I said with a cheeky smile. “I’m sure that you’ll be able to narrow it down to only five hundred suspects.”
David looked less amused by my assertion as we walked back inside. As we got close to the kitchen, we heard a long sighing moan. David and I picked up our pace to see what had made the sound.
The golem, now awake and alert, was weeping uncontrollably, punctuating her sobs with more of the same moaning that had got our attention. The constable from before was doing his best to interview her.
“I’m sorry…miss,” the constable said, clearly uncomfortable with this outburst of emotion from a non-human creature. “I had no idea that you loved your…owner so much.”
“My mistress,” the golem corrected the constable as she looked up. “And she did not love me. Every day, I was treated with contempt. She loved her reflection, nothing else.”
The constable was thoroughly confused by this as he wrote down the answer. “Then why are you crying over her now?”
Wiping away her tears, the golem stated, “She was all that I knew. Where shall I go from here?”
Being there felt wrong all of a sudden. I nudged David, and we made a discreet exit. I don’t think either the constable or golem noticed us in the first place.
“What is going to happen to her, David?” I asked as we walked to the front parlor.
“Well, technically, she’s property rather than a person in the eyes of the law,” he said, sounding like he had a major disagreement with the law on this one. “So we’ll hold her as ‘evidence’ for a few days and get all the details we can learn from her.”
“At least you can be sure she’ll tell you the truth,” I added. “Golems are incapable of lying.”
David got this serious look I knew all too well, stroking his chin as he contemplated how to tell me what he wanted.
“Okay, David,” I said. “What’s the big favor you want to ask me?”
A quicksilver smile came and went from David’s lips, a sunbeam poking out between storm clouds. “I’m wondering if you would mind being a consultant on this case for me.”
Okay…definitely didn’t see THAT one coming. “What? Why?”
“You’ve got a good working knowledge of herbs,” David offered. “And, as this is likely a case of Wraithsgourd abuse, your mastery in the herbal world would definitely come in handy for when those final reports roll in.”
“Yeah and I bet that you’ve got at least one expert on the payroll who is just as good, if not better,” I countered, still not seeing why he’d want to tap me.
“Strictly clinical knowledge,” David said. “They could tell me how it’s a bad idea to ingest anything with belladonna or the exact amount of arsenic you’d need to put in someone’s daily tea to kill them. But you run an apothecary, working with herbs day in and day out. Considering that we’re likely looking at an overdose of some kind, I’d want someone who might have an idea on how that could have happened in the real world.”
I frowned a little. “Like you said, David, I run a business, one that needs my tender loving—“
“Unless Millie is incapacitated, Hat, I’m calling BS on that excuse,” my lifelong friend who also happened to be a police chief told me. “You’re going to be out making deliveries anyway. Just fit in the time you can work with me whenever it’s convenient.”
I sighed, but I also nodded. I have to admit I got an unexpected wave of thrilling energy course through my body at the idea of helping out in an investigation. “The only thing I liked about Nebula was that she paid a month in advance. But nobody deserves to die like she did.”
David gave my shoulder a squeeze with a more lasting version of that smile on his face. “Knew I could count on you.”
For just a second, I felt a jolt of electricity go through his hand and into my shoulder. I did my best to ignore it as I said, “Unless you need me for something else…”
“I’ll let you know when I do,” David assured me.
I nodded again and, with Fraidy in tow, we went back towards the helipad. Suddenly, my least brave cat snagged my ankle.
“Fraidy!” I hissed.
“Ah, don’t be mad at him, boss lady,” Shade whispered from a shadowy nook, showing me his yellow eyes. “He just wanted to let you know I was in the neighborhood.”
“Where have you been?” Fraidy asked.
“Here, there,” Shade said casually, eyes fading to black. “Always out of sight. Speaking of whic
h, I’m hanging here while the constables do their thing. Anything interesting, I’ll pass it on.”
“How are you getting home?” I asked.
“Hitch a ride with the Blue boys and girls. Probably crash with my latest squeeze overnight, but I’ll be back by tomorrow morning.”
“You mean I’m going to be riding home alone?” Fraidy asked. “How can you do this to me, brother?”
“Would you rather follow Shade on this little jaunt?” I asked. “I could use the peace and quiet.”
“And catch a ride with people I don’t know?” Fraidy countered, outraged that I’d even suggest such a thing.
“Hey, they’re the police,” Shade said.
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Fraidy asked.
“Look, make up your own mind, Fraidy,” I finally said. “Me? I’m leaving, with or without you.”
Shade faded back into the darkness while Fraidy trotted alongside me, evidently very eager to escape this “kill zone.” Mentally, I prepared myself for the barrage of freaked out comments that Fraidy was going to make the entire flight home.
Introduction
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Yes, Please!
The Pure Heart Triumphs Volume One: The Earl’s Temptation
Chapter One
Baroness Louise Burbanks steadied herself as the stage bounced around. Alone in the coach, she smoothed the skirt of her best dress. It was the last one of all the fine gowns that should have been hers. All the others had to be sold as the years passed following her parents' tragic death to smallpox. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she thought over those five difficult years. Her parents had lived an extravagant life. She had known no poverty only glitter, polish, and shine. Her parents' untimely death just as she was about to step out into society revealed the ruin they had worked so hard to hide from her.
They left her penniless and destitute, and now reliant on her less well-to-do relations to take her in. In the wake of the loss of her parents, her home, nearly all her possessions, and the life of luxury she had known, she sought desperately to find her place in life. And ended up a mother out of wedlock. Determined not to let her cast a stain on their saintly reputation, her relatives demanded she give the child over to an orphanage.
Louise thought of her daughter, Olivia. She was just turned four and she was the single ray of sunshine in Louise's life. She was determined to find a way to be reunited with her daughter, and was fearful as well of the last prospect left to her.
Louise leaned forward and looked out the window of the coach to view the countryside. Cornwall was vastly different from where she had grown up. She watched the moors and grass-covered hills pass by, an endless landscape of pastoral beauty. Even over the ruckus of the wheels sloshing through the muddy roads, she could hear the waves crashing against cliffs hidden from view through the tiny carriage windows. She breathed in the thick salty air and then sat back as she considered her future.
She had to make a good impression on the Earl of Pennieshire. She was determined that she would make him happy, and win his hand and in doing so also win her nobility, but most importantly, her daughter. Her thoughts flashed to the orphanage her daughter was kept in. Her aunt and uncle made sure that Olivia did not go without, but the orphanage itself was monstrous. Dark, damp, and cold, it did not offer the children much more than a roof over their heads, and then only until the children turned five. Once they hit that fateful age, if a family did not take them in, the children were turned out onto the streets. The thought made Louise's heart skip a beat.
No, she determined to herself. That would not happen to her Olivia.
The coach slowed down and turned up a wide lane. Louise looked out and saw Waverly Hall, the main house of the Pennieshire Estate, dominating a low hill that the lane led to. She took in its twin spires, tall faceted windows, and grand door that more resembles a castle gate than a front entrance. She noted the care with which the grounds were kept and saw with delight a series of gardens to one side and a handsome pond framed by ddep green trees to the other side.
The carriage pulled to a stop and the coachman threw open the door clumsily. Louise stepped out and gazed up at the imposing mansion as a porter rushed to unload her single chest of belongings. She quickly smoothed her dress, tightened her silk gloves on her hands, and straightened her wide brimmed hat as she stepped up to the large mahogany door.
The porter lifted the heavy knocker and waited with Louise until a very old and dusty looking butler opened the door.
At the ancient man's inquisitive stare, Louise stepped forward and extended her hand.
"Ms. Burbanks to see the Earl, if you please."
The butler took her hand and bowed over it slightly. A crackling sound like old parchment seem to accompany his bow. Louise noticed the dust-motes that fell from his head as he lowered it toward her had. He said nothing. Louise realized he was waiting. She felt her cheeks go hot. Of course. Protocol must be followed. She smiled weakly at the old man and reached into her small handbag to remove the official invitation. Once she handed it to the butler, he nodded and waved her into the house on a cloud of dust.
Louise stood in the grand entrance to the mansion and took in the extravagance. The carefully kept stone floors, the thick imported rugs. Vases, artwork, statues, and heavy furniture extended the length of the room and led to twin staircases that led upward and met in the center of a landing to the second floor. Louise stepped forward, her eyes drawn upward and gasped at the paintings on the ceiling of the third story high above her.
"Right this way, please." The butler intruded in her thoughts.
Louise gripped her handbag tightly and steeling her nerves she followed the old man under the landing, past several doors, and into a room where she found herself intruding upon a loud discussion between two men with two young women watching in clear amusement.
"Blast, William! I have it here that you have been hounding the innkeeper's daughters again! Both of them! I have told you a dozen times; I will cut you off if you keep up with this philandering and whoring around! Have you no pride..?"
The butler cleared his throat and announced loudly, "Ms. Louise Burbanks at the invitation of milord."
At the interruption, all four people jerked their heads toward Louise. She took it all in with a glance. The two women --clearly sisters – stared with flinty eyes, down their hawk-like noses. They did nothing to hide their obvious disapproval of Louise's appearance. The younger of the two men in the room smiled playfully at Louise. His wavy black hair framing his handsomely rugged face. Broad shoulders atop his tall, sinewed body added to his overall good looks. The morbidly obese older man whose skin was so bad it looked like he had sores on his face wore a pitiful attempt at a mustache. Beads of sweat ran the length of his sallow and pocked cheeks and pooled above port-stained top lip. The four stared at Louise for one silent moment. Not quite long enough for Louise to turn and run, but long enough for it to feel incredibly uncomfortable for the new guest.
This is a mistake, she thought to herself. Then, as she nearly gave in to her compulsion to flee, she thought of Olivia. She forced her lips into a polite smile and curtsied to the small group.
The butler asked, "Would you like me to bring some tea, milord?"
"What on earth for? No. I will not have tea, you old fool. Bring me a glass and decanter of brandy at once!" retorted the Earl.
"And for your guest, milord?" asked the butler.
The fat man looked
Louise up and down, the expression on his face one of unhindered disdain. Louise felt the color drain from her face at his blatant once over. She immediately averted the old man's gaze and instantly happened upon the focused gaze of the handsome young Lord. Recalling the conversation she had walked in on, she realized the intent of his gaze, and the color flooded back to her cheeks.
"Fine. Get some tea for the girl. And some pork cheeks too. She clearly needs some fat on her bones."
"Very good, sir," replied the butler and he left the room.
Louise, alone with the four strangers, stood still, not knowing what to say or do.
"Well, don't just stand there. If we are to marry, then I would very much like to know that you have a pulse somewhere under that skin and bone."
The Earl moved toward her, leaning heavily on a thick cane. He walked around Louise and peered at her closely. He finally stood in front of her, and their eyes met. Louise felt sick. The Earl's eyes were yellowed and watery, broken only by the threads of bloodshot veins crawling over them. A lifetime of alcohol stared out from these eyes. He leaned in and breathed on Louise, and she nearly gagged from the stench of stale tobacco and liquor on his breath.
He leaned back and laughed harshly. "Why you are just a child. How old are you girl?"
Clean Regency Romance: The Earl's Temptation (The Pure Heart Triumphs Series Book 1) Page 2