Now to take care of what waited for her at the breakfast table.
She floated into the parlor. “Morning papa, morning boys,” she said in a sing-song voice. Her father didn’t glance up from the morning paper, but her brother’s gave her a big grin. She kissed her father’s cheek and he bid her a good morning. She looked at the twins and said, trying her damndest not to laugh, ”Why you both look very happy today. Is your tutor ill?”
Her query went unanswered and she went to the teacart and returned with the teapot. “Papa, do mind if I help myself to some of your coffee this morning?” She side-glanced Yale and York seeing their smile quickly turn upside own.
“Help yourself sweet pea,“ said her father.
“Thank you papa, and since the boys are always drinking my tea, I’m sure they’d love t have it all this morning. Right boys? You know how papa hates to throw anything out.” She poured a cup full for both, seeing their complexion turn white. Smiling sweetly, she cooed, “Enjoy it.”
Renny sat and poured herself coffee. She hated the brew but today she’d simply love it. “Drink up boys, and eat your breakfast, your tutor will be here soon.” Her taunt was silky smooth.
Her father lowered the paper. ”Do as your sister says, breakfast is an important meal, ‘tis brain food.”
They looked at one another, their eyes wide, but drank the brew and gobbled down the biscuits without any jam on them today. They left in a flash and she yelled after them, “Enjoy your day!”
“I say, sweet pea, they were certainly in a hurry to start their lessons. Will wonders ever cease,” he murmured and returned to reading the paper. Renny nearly choked on the coffee because she was trying so hard not to break-out with laughter.
Since her only client was Mr. Radcliffe, she decided to sit in the garden and read for a spell, before spying on the man’s mistress. An hour passed when Mr. Finch came up to her and cleared his throat. Startled, she looked up, shading the sun from her eyes and met his waiting gaze.
“Excuse me mistress, but do you know where your brother’s are?”
She gave him her most innocent expression. “Why nay, sir, is something wrong? I thought they were with you.”
“Well, aye, they were up until,” he looked at his pocket watch, “fifteen minutes ago, then they ran out of the house and into the woods.”
“I don’t know sir, but they must be feeling ill. They did mention at breakfast that they were a bit under the weather,” she lied. “Why don’t you go for the day. I’m sure that they’ll be feeling better tomorrow. You will not be docked a day’s pay.”
He nodded stiffly. “Very well, mistress. Whatever the boys have, I do not wish to catch it. Thank you.”
“Oh, I am certain that whatever ails them it’s not contagious.”
Renny then went upstairs to get her purse, spy glass and writing pad. It was just after noon, a time when people go out to dine, meet people for a stroll or ride in the park.
If Mr. Radcliff’s mistress was going to meet anyone, it would be for lunch or a tryst somewhere. She was certain the woman wouldn’t invite her other lover to her home, not and chance that the two men would meet.
As she walked to the barn to saddle Sorcy, the twins were staggering up the road, looking quite green around the gills. When they saw her, both moaned, gagged and placed their hands over their mouths and quickly retreated to the side of the road. Seeing them so sick she was a bit sorry now, but if Pepper hadn’t warned her, it would’ve been her doing the upchucking, so she didn’t offer any sympathy and left them to their misery. Maybe now these games between them would stop, otherwise it may prove to be disastrous to her or to them.
Renny saddled Sorcy with the English saddle. She preferred to ride her Western saddle, but it was daylight and no respectable lady rides astride. At night, she dressed in pants and used the one she had sent to her from America.
She cantered into the park and scanned the area around her, looking for someone who filled the description Mr. Radcliffe had giving her. She wished she had gotten a better look at the woman that night, but it was too dark. All she knew was that the lady in question had red hair, brown eyes, and stood about five feet four in height. Renny some- times wished she was not so tall. In school she always stood a head taller than her classmates, including the boys, until she became a teenager, then the boys seemed to have sprung up.
She had no luck at the park so she tried looking into a few local restaurants asking the maitre d’ if they knew a Mrs. Dorene Woodrow and if she was dinning there. She was in luck, at the Gilbert Hotel; the woman had a reservation for two at one thirty that after-noon. She proceeded to book a table for herself a the same time and left to return then.
Renny was prompt and ordered a meal as she waited for the woman and her lover. Dorene Woodrow came in with a good-looking man on her arm; they sat and the man ordered champagne. She could tell that they were romantically involved because the couple stared starry-eyed at one another. When her check came she asked the waiter if he knew the gentleman who as dinning with Miss. Dorene Woodrow.
“Yes, mistress, he is Vaughn Putnam, The Earl of Balakirev.”
“Thank you, sir.” She paid her bill and left. Entering the house, she placed her hat and cape onto a peg and found her father in the study.
“Hello papa. Sorry to disturb but do you know an Earl Putnam of Balakirev?”
He put down his book and frowned, scratching his beard for a moment he replied, “I seem to recall meeting him a few years back. I believe he lives in the country with his wife and six children. Why?”
She shrugged, “Oh, it’s just that I have a client and the man’s someone I’m investigating. Thanks papa,” she kissed his brow.
“My dear, your brother’s told me that they were ill and spent most of the day in their room, be so kind and check up on them.”
That was the last thing she wanted to do but she agreed. Maybe it was time to call a truce. She looked at the watch pinned to her bodice, it was still early, she had time to hire a cab and go to the country to see that cheating earl.
Imagine a wife and six kids, what a bastard!
Renny knocked on her brother’s bedroom door and didn‘t wait for an answer. She peeked inside and they were curled up in heir beds, moaning. She was now sorry but they deserved it.
“I’ve come to call a truce, boys. How’s about it?” They were staring daggers at her. “Look, I’m sorry but you two planed to do that to me and---”
“Who told you?” whispered York.
“That doesn’t matter. If mother was alive she’d scold you for using your magic to harm me or anyone. Next year you’re gong off to private school and you have to learn to control your powers. I have told you many times how mother didn’t let me practice my powers and if she could see you she’d be very disappointed. Please, no more pranks on me or anyone unless it’s necessary to help them. What do you say?”
Two heads nodded. “Aye, we concede,” they rasped.
“Pinky swear?” she asked.
They nodded again and all she could do was cross her fingers.
Renny did not have an appointment with Earl Putnam of Balakirev, she just wanted to meet the scoundrel but she wasn’t sure what she’d say to the man if he saw her. She asked the driver to wait for her, saying that she shouldn’t be long.
“Tis foine mum, Ol just rest, take ye time.”
She knocked on the large door and in moments the butler appeared.
“Aye, miss?”
“I’ve come to see your master, the earl, Vaughn Putman.”
The man’s eyes opened wide and he gave her a stiff smile. “Oh, ye must be the new gov’ness. Come in.”
“Oh, I’m afraid that you are miss---”
“Who’s that, Keeves?” A child about five skipped into the foyer. Her strawberry ringlets bounced and her blue eyes smiled. Renny didn’t want to mislead anyone and so answered, “I’m Miss Renny Rayleigh and---”
“Oh, are you our new nanny?” Th
e girl quickly latched onto her and squealed in delight. “Oh, goody, you’re very pretty. Our other nanny was pain and grumpy. Are you grumpy?”
Renny couldn’t help but laugh. “No, I’m not grumpy but---”
“I knew you weren’t. Come meet papa.”
Well, she thought, this was one way to gain entrance and meet the man who had sire such a cute child. Too bad he was a … She stooped that thought when another child, a little older walked towards them. She also had light reddish-blonde hair with blue eyes, apparently poured from the same mold.
“Look Penny,” said the one clutching her hand, “this is our new nanny.”
The older version, she guessed to be about twelve, gave her the once over and didn’t appear t be as pleased as her sister.
“She’s not our nanny yet, Vicky. ‘Tis up to father. Follow me miss, he’s in the study,” Penny declared stiff-lipped. She tapped on the door. “Father, a young lady ‘tis here to see you.”
“Come in,” answered a deep voice.
Penny opened the door and she ordered her sister to stay out of the room. Vicki made a sour face but she did as she was told. Renny smiled down at her and then she walked in to the room.
The earl’s head was down but she recognized his full head of reddish hair, something he passed onto two of his daughters, besides his blue eyes. She recalled every detail of his handsome face from the restaurant.
She stood in the center of the room for a moment studying its décor. One wall was lined with bookshelves, the other to a garden though two glass doors that were ajar letting in the breeze. On the wall behind his desk were two large portraits, one of six beautiful children, the other she assumed was he and his wife. The woman was breath-taking, with blue eyes but her hair was light brown.
The man stood and rounded the desk. “Hello, miss? Please be seated.”
She put out her hand and he shook it, but remained standing. “I’m Renny Rayleigh, and I’m afraid that everyone here has the wrong idea, I’m not here to apply for a job. I’m a detective and I was hired by Anwar Rainier Radcliffe.”
His brows forked. “I do not understand.”
“Well, err, this is very awkward sir. I do not usually speak to the people I investigate but ---”
. “You are investigating me? Why?” he interrupted brusquely
“As I said, I was hired by Anwar Radcliffe because he wanted to know who was seeing his mistress, Dorene Woodrow and---” His eyes grew darker at her accusing words.
“What? How dare you accuse my fiancée of being involved with another man! Besides this man you speak of is---”
“Your fiancée?”
“Aye.”
She let out a shaky breath and asked foolishly, “But what about your wife?” her voice crackled with dryness.
“My wife had been dead for two years, miss. And Anwar Radcliffe is Dorene’s stepbrother. Now I don’t know what game you’re playing but I want you out of my house!” he ordered sharply
Renny starred at him tongue-tied and she felt an intense humiliation, the likes of which she’d never experienced before and she almost choked on the emotion. She shrank from the confrontation and wanted to use her magic to put a hole right in the middle of the room and fall into it. There was no doubt in her mind that she had been duped. Her decision was instantaneous, she now had a better plan for her powers; that bastard Anwar would not get away with this!
“I’m so sorry, I’m afraid that I was mislead. Please---”
“Papa,” Vicky ran into the room, her big sister right behind her. “Is she our new nanny?”
The earl appeared to be controlling his temper in front of his children and said, “Sorry Pumpkin but I’m afraid that the young lady is not qualified.”
Renny read the perplexity in the child‘s face.
“Aw, but she’s so pretty and she said she’s not grumpy.”
Renny forced a smile and murmured, “I’m sorry too sweetie, you’re a delightful child and I envy the woman your father hires. Bye.” She turned and ran from the room, holding back tears.
Now there’s a certain man she wanted to turn into a toad!
Chapter Five
War spent most of the afternoon at the club playing cards. He chewed on a soggy cigar contemplating his next move. Half a glass of good scotch sat at his left and he squinted when smoke went into his eyes. He was not particularly a fan of cigars but the room was filled with men smoking one thing or another so he occasionally joined them. Placing the, now unlit stogy in an ashtray, he threw a few more chips into the middle of the table. It was he and Lord Panrick dwelling out the last hand.
“I raise you and see your hand,” said Lord Panrick. He placed his cards on the table and the bystanders ooohed and aahed in delight.
A buxom blonde had been hanging on his arm all evening groaned. Apparently she thought as did the others, that he was beaten. Up until now, War had been winning almost every game and when he did, the doxy would lean forward, giving the men a good view of her ample breasts and gather in his chips. He rewarded her by placing a few into her bodice. Lord Panrick, assuming he had won, reached out for his loot when War placed his cards face up for all to see. A round of gasps was now heard and the blonde bombshell clapped with glee gathering his winnings to her bosom.
“You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch,” grumbled Lord Panrick.
War nodded and snapped his fingers for an assistant to pick up his chips and cash him out. The blonde licked her lips lasciviously, a taunting smile flickered in her eyes when she whispered into his ear that she wouldn’t mind spending the night with him to help spend some of his money. He declined, saying he had an important engagement. She didn’t appear happy but thanked him for his generosity by touching her cleavage.
Outside the night had turned foggy, but that was the norm for London. He hired a cab to go back to his first floor flat for a bath and to change out of his smelly clothes, then he would head out to see Dorene.
His stepmother, Leola had begged him a number of times to live at the estate but she and his father argued constantly over his old man’s drinking and gambling. He had had enough of that and rented an apartment on the outskirts of London last year. He visited occasionally to give the woman some of his winnings to help her out.
After he bathed and donned clean clothes he left his apartment and went to the stable for Goldie He then went to see his stepsister, who still lived with her mother. It was just bad luck that the lady detective found Dorene at his apartment that night. She had asked him to let her stay there for a few days and he stayed at the club.
He hated to come here seeing the estate was in dire straits and in need of repair. The gardener had been let go as well as all the other servants, except for the cook. Still having a key, he let himself in and before he closed the door he could smell alcohol wafting in from the study. He found his father passed out on a chair with a bottle beside him on the floor.
An indrawn breath alerted him that someone one was behind him.
“Hello, Anwar.”
He turned and saw Leola standing behind him in one of her threadbare dresses. He went over and kissed her sunken cheek, recalling how beautiful she had been when he first met her. He was fourteen when his own mother died, and a year later his father met and married this lovely person. It took him awhile to get used to having an older sister who liked to boss him around. Eventually he bonded with Leola and Dorie and now he’d do anything for them.
“Leola, I do not have to ask how you are doing, I see father is in his usual foxed state. I wish you’d let me set you up in a small flat in London.” She sighed and gave him the same excuse; she’d married the man for better or worse. He didn’t have to remind her that he thought she was a saint. “One of the these day’s he’ll drink himself to death, then what?”
A shadow of alarm touched her face and she released another heavy sigh. “If it should come to that, my daughter will open her home to me when she marries the Earl of Balakirev. Thank you again for your hel
p Anwar, we are managing for now.”
He took her hand, threading his fingers through hers and then he pressed a few pounds into her palm. Her smile was reflective and he saw tears form in her gray eyes.
“Hello, brother,” Dorene said from the door.
He gave her a brotherly smile and she touched Leola’s arm, saying, “Mother, why don’t you go up to your room and I’ll be up shortly to read to you. I need to speak with War.”
The woman nodded and left, her shoulders appeared to be slumping more with each of his visits. His father snorted in his stupor and War suggested they speak in the parlor and Dorene totally agreed. Once in the room, he immediately went over to the cabinet and poured himself a shot of whiskey, and tossed it back quickly.
“Maybe you better have another,” Dorene said, sitting on the sofa.
He didn’t like the tone in her voice or the suggestion.
“What happened, Dorie?” he came right to the point.
An expression of vexation pinched her mouth before she answered. “Vaughn came to see me this afternoon very upset. That lady detective, Miss Rayleigh, visited him under the pretense of answering his add for a nanny. Well, she did say it was not her intension to deceive him, but be that as it may, she accused him of cheating on his wife with me. I know you asked me to be seen with him in public, but I never suspected she’d confront him.”
War racked his hands through his hair and clenched his jaw. “Neither did I Dorie,” he gritted through his teeth. “I’m sorry she put you and your fiancé through this embarrassment, but be sure she will hear from me,” he said emphatically. “I told her just to follow you, nothing more. I wanted to show her how having the wrong ideas about people can ruin lives. Please apologize to Vaughn for me.”
She giggled, “You know this is kinda funny in a way.”
He raised a brow, “I’m surprised you think so.”
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