Rake?” He shrugged, and Paige continued. “‘Tell us that Blake the Rake is very much in love with his new bride. But who is the new Mrs. Caldwell? And where did she come from?’“
Just then Bruno growled, and Dancy slithered into the room. Paige resisted the urge to duck under the table just in case this was one of her gun carrying days. If it was, Paige had no idea where Dancy would have hidden the weapon. With her small compact body wrapped in a skin-tight, black jumpsuit, she looked like Cat Woman with dark Gypsy eyes. Her hair was dark too, with a bad perm that made it as kinky and frizzy as Bruno.
“ Blake,” she purred, coming up alongside him with lethal grace and running her hand along the back of his chair. “It’s her mother on the phone. She’s seen the Scope . I tried to tell her it wasn’t true, that you don’t love her .” She turned her obsidian gaze to Paige. Her voice grew hard then softened again as she tossed her fried-out ponytail over her shoulder. “She doesn’t believe me.”
“ Dancy, where’s breakfast?”
The maid shrugged in one fluid, concise motion. “Sylvia isn’t here. She left last night. She said she’d come into some money and was going back to England.”
“ Why wasn’t I informed?”
Dancy shrugged again, seemingly unconcerned. “You weren’t here.”
Paige looked up from her paper, stalling so that she wouldn ’t have to answer the phone; she wasn’t ready for the confrontation with her mother. “And before she left she talked to the Scope . That’s where the money came from. So much for loyalty.”
Blake tossed his unused napkin on the table. “Tell Mrs. Parker that Paige is on her honeymoon and cannot be disturbed.”
With another swing of her ponytail, Dancy left.
Paige turned to Blake, anger filling her cheeks with heated color. He had no right to dismiss her phone call, even if she didn’t want to talk to her mother—yet. He had over-stepped his bounds. “How dare—” her words trailed off as Blake stood. “Where are you going?”
“ To the office.” he said. “Don’t hold dinner...Well, I guess without Sylvia there won’t be any dinner. Don’t wait up.”
He bent and lightly brushed his lips across hers, then he disappeared into the house.
Paige looked down at the paper spread out before her, and her anger drained away into reality.
Some honeymoon.
****
“ What’s this?” Blake asked, looking over the top of the morning paper the next day.
Bruno growled as Dancy glided out on the sun porch with their breakfast tray.
Paige picked up the tiny black dog and placed him in her lap. “He doesn’t care for Dancy.”
“ It’s mutual.” The maid turned her dark eyes on the dog who cowered in Paige’s lap.
Secretly , Paige thought Bruno didn’t like Dancy because he thought she looked too much like a very big version of himself, and that Dancy, in turn, didn’t like Bruno because she did look like a very big poodle.
“ No. This.” Blake pointed to the tray Dancy set on its usual stand.
“ Breakfast,” Paige answered.
The plate Dancy placed before each of them was covered with fruit and freshly baked banana oat bran muffins. Reluctantly, she set the third plate in front of the tiny poodle. It was piled high with a dog food which Paige had made out of the various meats she found in the refrigerator.
“ You’re spoiling that dog worse than my aunt ever did.”
Paige scratched the dog in question behind the ears as he devoured his breakfast. “What difference does it make? You can spoil animals all you want and not have to worry about how they’ll act when they go away to college. It’s not like he’s a child.”
“ No.” Blake’s eyes darkened, then he turned away. “When did you hire a new cook?”
“ I didn’t.”
“ Don’t tell me Dancy did this, and I know Julie didn’t. She was originally hired as a cook and to make an un-digestible story short, she’s now the upstairs maid.”
“ I baked
Just then Bruno growled, and Dancy slithered into the room. Paige resisted the urge to duck under the table just in case this was one of her gun carrying days. If it was, Paige had no idea where Dancy would have hidden the weapon. With her small compact body wrapped in a skin-tight, black jumpsuit, she looked like Cat Woman with dark Gypsy eyes. Her hair was dark too, with a bad perm that made it as kinky and frizzy as Bruno.
“ Blake,” she purred, coming up alongside him with lethal grace and running her hand along the back of his chair. “It’s her mother on the phone. She’s seen the Scope . I tried to tell her it wasn’t true, that you don’t love her .” She turned her obsidian gaze to Paige. Her voice grew hard then softened again as she tossed her fried-out ponytail over her shoulder. “She doesn’t believe me.”
“ Dancy, where’s breakfast?”
The maid shrugged in one fluid, concise motion. “Sylvia isn’t here. She left last night. She said she’d come into some money and was going back to England.”
“ Why wasn’t I informed?”
Dancy shrugged again, seemingly unconcerned. “You weren’t here.”
Paige looked up from her paper, stalling so that she wouldn ’t have to answer the phone; she wasn’t ready for the confrontation with her mother. “And before she left she talked to the Scope . That’s where the money came from. So much for loyalty.”
Blake tossed his unused napkin on the table. “Tell Mrs. Parker that Paige is on her honeymoon and cannot be disturbed.”
With another swing of her ponytail, Dancy left.
Paige turned to Blake, anger filling her cheeks with heated color. He had no right to dismiss her phone call, even if she didn’t want to talk to her mother—yet. He had over-stepped his bounds. “How dare—” her words trailed off as Blake stood. “Where are you going?”
“ To the office.” he said. “Don’t hold dinner...Well, I guess without Sylvia there won’t be any dinner. Don’t wait up.”
He bent and lightly brushed his lips across hers, then he disappeared into the house.
Paige looked down at the paper spread out before her, and her anger drained away into reality.
Some honeymoon.
****
“ What’s this?” Blake asked, looking over the top of the morning paper the next day.
Bruno growled as Dancy glided out on the sun porch with their breakfast tray.
Paige picked up the tiny black dog and placed him in her lap. “He doesn’t care for Dancy.”
“ It’s mutual.” The maid turned her dark eyes on the dog who cowered in Paige’s lap.
Secretly , Paige thought Bruno didn’t like Dancy because he thought she looked too much like a very big version of himself, and that Dancy, in turn, didn’t like Bruno because she did look like a very big poodle.
“ No. This.” Blake pointed to the tray Dancy set on its usual stand.
“ Breakfast,” Paige answered.
The plate Dancy placed before each of them was covered with fruit and freshly baked banana oat bran muffins. Reluctantly, she set the third plate in front of the tiny poodle. It was piled high with a dog food which Paige had made out of the various meats she found in the refrigerator.
“ You’re spoiling that dog worse than my aunt ever did.”
Paige scratched the dog in question behind the ears as he devoured his breakfast. “What difference does it make? You can spoil animals all you want and not have to worry about how they’ll act when they go away to college. It’s not like he’s a child.”
“ No.” Blake’s eyes darkened, then he turned away. “When did you hire a new cook?”
“ I didn’t.”
“ Don’t tell me Dancy did this, and I know Julie didn’t. She was originally hired as a cook and to make an un-digestible story short, she’s now the upstairs maid.”
“ I baked
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