Good Lord, maybe he should let his old man rot in jail.
“What makes you think I have a mistress?” he asked. Quite insulted at her accusation, indignation reared its head, and his eyes widened in shock. Of course, he was no saint, he had kept a few woman in his time, but not recently. Not because he didn’t want a sex partner, it was just that he couldn’t afford to keep a mistress in the luxury they expected. He earned a modest living gambling, but not enough to…Why was he making excuses to himself?
His voice rose above hers. “Well? Answer me!”
She sniffled again and pouted; he expected no less, she was a child of only seventeen years.
“I hired a detective and she followed you last night,” the weeping girl confessed.
He raised a brow. “She?”
“Yes, and she saw you in the arms of that, that slut.”
War balled his hands, he was never so tempted to hit a female before. Sissy deserved a good spanking and… that idea was not to be overlooked. He pulled her up from the sofa, twirled her around and pulled her back down over his knee. She screamed and Gaston ran in. War gave him, a do-not -butt-in-look and the man turned and left, but he was sure he saw a ghost of a smile on the servant’s face.
He pulled up her gown to expose her white bloomers. Her small cute backside stirred his lusty emotions for a second but it shouldn’t have because he had no feeling for the chit. But it had been a while since…he groaned, maybe he should see a prostitute.
“Now, young lady, you deserve every smack your getting. One,” his hand came down hard on her rump, “for distrusting me. Two,” another smack, “for your vulgar language. Smack! And three, for acting like a brat.”
“Ow! Let me go you bastard! I’ll tell my parents that you---”
“Smack! And four, for cursing again and five for good… whack! measure!”
And then he wondered where her parents were. Her mother had always been with them as a chaperone before. But he had always been a gentleman in the countess’ presence, he figured she trusted him, or he was not expected.
Sissy rolled off his lap and sat on the floor sobbing. “You’re mean and I will not marry you!” Piffle, she stuck out her little pink tongue.
“Young lady,” he yanked her up, “if I had my way, I wouldn’t marry you either.” God, he was sounding like an infant himself. “Look, give me the name of the woman you hired, I have a bone to pick with her.”
Sissy rubbed her bottom and sniffled piteously, and then said, “Miss Ranait Elise Rayleigh.”
“Duke Victor Rayleigh’s daughter?” he rasped.
“Aye, I was given her name by a good friend who had used her to ---”
“I’ll be back later, and I want to speak with your parents!”
“Aye, when they get home and I tell them what a meany you are,” she sniffled.
He left, collected his hat and gloves in the foyer noticing that no one was about. He smiled and thought the servants were smart and that they knew better to show their face.
“I’m sure that mommy and daddy will want to talk with you too,” she wailed as he left slamming front door.
War had never had met the duke’s daughter but he had heard about the rumors about his family. He had met the eldest son Victor once and he knew the young man had three brothers and a sister. Learning that the daughter was a detective intrigued him somewhat but he was angry that she had tried to ruin his life.
It was not good manners to barge in on a duke and his family without an invitation but he was in no mood for proper etiquette. He trotted up the gravel driveway of the Rayleigh Estate. It was very impressive with the two marble columns holding up the second floor balcony. The door and windows on the upper floor were open to let in the warm breeze. Lace curtains fluttered as if waving an invitation to enter; he hoped the inhabits were as inviting.
He knocked with the lion knocker on the mammoth oak door. Within moments the door yawned open and two young boys, a mirror image of each other, gave him a curious glance. He quickly removed his hat.
“Aye?” they said in unison.
He cleared his throat, not expecting teenagers, and he wondered why a butler didn’t answer the door. He shrugged at his thought, maybe the duke wasn’t as wealthy as everyone believed. Probably that was the reason his daughter worked as a detective. Feeling two sets of eyes drilling into him, he finally said, “Sorry to disturb you, but I’d like to speak with Mistress Rayleigh.”
“Are you a client of my sister?” they chorused.
“Well, um, aye,” he lied straight-faced, ignoring the sting of his conscience.” I’m War Radcliffe.”
The boys smiled and stood aside. “Come in sir. Renny is in the study. Follow us.” They skipped ahead of him and he followed studying the foyer. The place was spotless, so the duke had to have help, but he didn’t see anyone.
“Hey sis,” the boys yelled. “Someone’s here to see you! A Mr. Radcliffe.”
War stepped into the room and saw a dark head buried behind a pile of papers. The boys scooted away and he stood there feeling quite awkward, recalling school days when he was called to the master’s office.
He cleared his throat.
“Have a seat; be with you in a moment, Mr. Radcliffe.”
The voice was low and mellifluous. He wondered what she looked like. A woman detective had to be made of strong stuff, surely she wouldn’t be a delicate female.
“Sorry to come uninvited, Mistress Rayleigh but I was given your name by a friend and I can use your expertise on a matter.” He figured, what was another falsehood. Maybe this way he could gain her confidence and destroy her reputation as she tried to do to him. Finally, he had gotten her attention and she tilted her head up and saw him.
The woman was definitely not what he expected. The first thing that made his innards feel funny was her beautiful violet eyes, a color he had never seen before. Enticing, but a little scary, as if she could see he was not being honest with her. She pushed herself to a standing position, straightened her shoulders and came around the mahogany desk. The woman’s body was seductively tall and trim, and nicely shaped. She wore a deep blue dress that showed off her up tilted breasts and curved hips.
She walked towards him with a nonchalant grace. Boy was he wrong, she was exquisite. Her face was well-modeled and feminine and she smiled, adding to her loveliness. How in hell would he pull off his farce when he was tempted to kiss her. Good, Lord, he definitely needed to see a prostitute.
“Hello, sir, you want to hire me?” she asked earnestly and gave him a long look before she pointed to a chair with delicate fingers. War wondered how they would feel against his skin. Damn, he had to shake off these notions. He felt like a lackwit, he had met beautiful woman before and had them in his bed, this was asinine. He sat and cleared his throat.
“Aye, Miss Rayleigh.” he finally managed to answer her.
Damn, his voice sounded hoarse.
She sat across from him, placing her hands demurely in her lap, and asked, “What is it you’d like me to do for you?”
Oh, I can think of many things.
Aloud, he said, “I think my mistress is cheating on me, Miss Rayleigh.”
“Hmm,” she licked her bottom lip.”
He groaned aloud without realizing it
. “Sorry, sir, I know it’s painful to suspect a lover of cheating.”
“Aye, um… call me War.” Her beautiful eyes grew wide. “War, what kind of name is War? Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to come off sounding so crass.”
He shrugged. “It’s a normal reaction, my full name is Anwar, but my friends tagged me with War in school, so, I stuck with it,” he held onto a smile.
“I see, you can call me Miss Renny. It’s my nickname also, and I prefer it to Ranait.”
“It’s a pretty name,” he complimented, because that was an honest reply.
The detective stood and grabbed a pad and pencil off her desk and sat again. She licked the point of the pencil and this time he reme
mbered not to groan aloud but his emotions were ready to explode. He’d definitely not sleep in his own bed tonight.
The woman asked him the name of his mistress and he provided her with a name and address. Her forehead puckered for a moment as if she were trying to solve a riddle and then her violet eyes seemed to have widened twice in size and he knew she recognized the address.
Well, his stepsister owed him a favor and he was sure she’d go along with his lie.
Chapter Three
Renny watch the tall, handsome stranger leave and she couldn’t believe how she managed to restrain her temper. Damn, he was the man who was cheating on Sissy. But she had to laugh now, they certainly deserved one another. A spoiled, rich brat and a cheating bastard who thought his mistress was cuckooing him. Well, that’s one for the books!
Too bad he was so good looking.
She thought back to when she had first looked up at him, her knees grew week and she had a hard time standing. But she did, and it took all her strength and stamina to hold herself as graceful as she could without tripping over her own feet.
It was too dark last night to see him, but today, with the sun shinning into the room, she saw clearly his ruggedly handsome face, his compelling golden brown eyes, and his firm mouth that curled as if on the edge of laughter. When he did smile, a very charming smile disarmed her completely; his even white teeth contrasted pleasantly with his olive skin. There was an urgent need to sit so she offered him a chair. The man gave her a curt nod, making his auburn hair fall over his brow and she had been tempted to push it back in place.
Oh, how she itched to put a spell on him to make him forget his fiancée and mistress. But… alas, as much as she would love to have the man for herself, she would not get him with magic. Well, for now she would brush him from her mind, she had work to do; but that was easier said than done. It was impossible to concentrate on her paper work when his face kept intruding, getting in the way of her chore.
So Renny decided to take care of another matter. One of her duties was to prepare dinner because the cook had this day off. Suki always took Wednesdays off, but Renny didn’t mind, she liked to cook. It gave her a chance to practice her magic. And she was getting pretty good at making meals, at least most of the time. The first time she tried baking a cake, the eggs cracked before they reached the bowl, the flour burst out of the bag, covering her with the white dust, and Pepper flew in to heckle her.
That bird never learns his lesson, she now mused recalling how she snapped her fingers and turned him into a bucket and pumped water into it to clean up her mess. When she restored him to his natural state, he was so waterlogged, he had to waddle away, gurgling profanities.
Tonight she’d conjure up a baked ham, roast potatoes, raisin gravy, and broccoli. And for desert, apple pie, the duke’s favorite. She took a deep breath and snap! It was all ready to eat.
“Hmmm, sweet pea, the meal is delicious,” commented her father.
“Yeah, “York winked. “Your skills have improved, sis,” he chuckled.
Yale nudged his brother on the arm. “Practice does make one perfect,” he laughed through his nose.
Renny rolled her eyes and her father scolded them. “Now boys, you know your sister is trying her best to be a mother figure, so no more teasing.”
“Aye, papa, she’s very trying,” they said together. They laughed, until they found their water glass toppled over spilling the contents on their crotches. Luckily, her father was too busy eating to see what happened. The twins scowled and give her a nasty look. She dabbed her mouth with a napkin hiding her mirth because they had to sit through the meal with soggy breeches.
“You might be right my brothers, practice does make one perfect.”
That night when Renny pulled the coverlet off the bed, she discovered spikes sticking out of her mattress. It was a good thing she had lit a candle
“Oh, so you want to play, eh, my brothers?” Snap! Her overstuffed mattress was back. The next morning at breakfast her father asked where the twins were. She told him that the boys felt adventurous last night and wanted to sleep outdoors. They claimed, they wanted to camp. Just then, the object of their conversation walked in covered with muck.
“Peeyou,” Renny pinched her nose. “Where were you two sleeping, in the pig pen? You boys must have been out like a rock to sleep outside all night.” They didn’t say a word but she heard them grumble all the way up to the bath closet.
“Oh, sweet pea, how I wish you mama were still live.” Her father shook his head sadly.
She kissed his cheek. “Amen, papa, amen.”
And she wondered what prank her brothers would retaliate with tonight.
Oh, mama, I do wish you were here, the twins are getting too big for me handle.
But, she had more important matters to attend to than to worry about York and Yale, she had t see Sissy Vanderbilt.
Renny wasn’t anxious to see her client again, but it was important that the girl knew all the facts, and she has yet to be paid for her services. The butler showed her in and she didn’t expect Mr. and Mr. Vanderbilt to be with the girl. But, apparently Sissy had told them the truth about her fiancé, and they now know what a scoundrel the man was.
“Hello, Miss Rayleigh,” the woman greeted her. “Please have a seat.”
“Thank you,” she replied cordially.
Mr. Vanderbilt nodded his greeting and she gave him a smile. Sissy sat quietly in the chair which surprised her. She assumed the spoiled girl wouldn’t misbehave in her parents presence, which suited her fine.
“Miss Rayleigh, my daughter has informed us that her betrothed is cheating on her with a mistress.”
Renny cleared her throat. “Aye, and he admitted it to me.”
“What?!” squealed Sissy, but seeing her mother’s glare, said no more.
“You met the man?” the woman asked.
Renny laughed. “Well, it’s kinda funny, in a sense. I suppose I shouldn’t have laughed, it is a serious situation, but he came to me for my help. He believes his mistress in cuckooing him.”
“Bastard,” said the man, who had been quiet up to now.
“Bernard, watch your language!” said his wife and sat up straight as if a rod was shoved up her backside.
“I’m sorry to be the bearer of such distressing news,” Renny interjected, “but it’s best you know the truth before the wedding than after the I do’s are said. A leopard doesn’t change its spots. Sorry for the cliché,” she quickly added.
“Aye, you are right, Miss Rayleigh, and I’m sure it will cost us a few pounds to cancel the contract, but since the betrothal was signed, my husband discovered, though a friend, that Anwar Rainer Radcliffe’s father, Count Radcliffe has lost most of his money gambling.”
So, the man is the son of a count, interesting he never mentioned that fact to her.
“---did us a favor, and I’m sure the count will accept a generous sum to keep his name from being dragged through the mud. On the way out, there’s an envelop on the table, by the door with the money my daughter owes you. See that you take it and thank you again.”
Her dismissal was quick and to the point, which was fine with her.
It was too nice of a day to ride in a cab, so on the way home, she walked through the park, nodding to friends and neighbors. One rude bloke bumped into her without an apology. Renny snapped her fingers making sure he stepped into a pile of horse manure. Tomorrow, she’d stake out War’s mistress’ home to see if the woman leaves to meet someone other than Mr. Radcliffe. This should be very interesting, to say the least.
Chapter Four
Renny slowly opened her eyes, wondering what trick the twins were going to play on her that morning. Surely, they had something up their sleeves. Carefully, she placed her bare feet onto the small carpet recalling the time it buckled tossing her flat on her rump. It didn’t move, but that meant she only had to watch her step more carefully, and be prepared for anything. The drawers on her dresser didn’t stic
k, her clothes were hanging where they should be and when she looked into her mirror, nothing scary jumped out at her.
“Hmmm?” she tapped her chin assuming that whatever the trick was, it wasn’t going to happen until she left her bedroom. York and Yale were either getting braver or more careless. She dressed in a white ruffled blouse and a gray skirt, and pinned her thick hair into a bun at the top of her head. She was just about to leave when she heard a pecking sound against her window pane.
“Pepper?”
Opening the window, the raven flew in.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked tongue-in-cheek.
“I want to call a truce between us because your magic doesn’t frightened me as much as the twins does. If I tell you what they’re planning, would you please refrain from snapping your fingers at me. You’ve turned me into a pig, mule, snake, and whatever have you, but the boys threatened to turn me into a statue in the park! We both know what happens to statues. I do not care to be pooed on by my friends.” He placed a wing against his head. “Oh, the humility of it,” he sighed dramatically.
“Oh dear, how ignominious,” she laughed.
“’Tisn’t funny, kido” he squawked.
“Sorry,” she mumbled, “You’re right. We’ll call a truce, but you have to help whenever I need you to assist me. Deal?” She put out her hand and he gaped at it for a moment, then extended his wing.
“I agree.”
“Good, now spill it.”
“I was sitting on the kitchen windowsill when the cook went out to dispose of the garbage. I saw the two imps sneak in and put something in your morning pot of tea. I know your father drinks only coffee, so I suppose they thought it would be safe.”
“Do you know what it was?”
“Nay, it can’t be lethal, but I’m sure it not honey.”
“Thanks Pepper.”
Renny snapped her finger and he winced. “Don’t worry, I rewarded you with a gift; she’s waiting for you outside,” she winked at him and he few away. She didn’t know birds could smile. Then she giggled because in the spring he’d have off-springs. It was time for him to settle down.
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