When the marquis caught her staring at him, he winked. Spin narrowed her gaze. She could tell he meant nothing by it. It was probably a reflex when he saw someone of the female persuasion.
The car slowed as they crossed a bridge over sparkling blue waters. From the canopy of lush trees, the house rose. It was as though the car transformed into a carpet, and they were sailing toward an enchanted castle.
“Welcome to Mondego House,” said the duke. There was clear pride in his voice. A touch of awe as well as he surveyed his homestead.
House was a misnomer. A house was something at the end of a cul de sac. This was across a mote. There were at least three stories, maybe four. Just the spires alone were their own entity. The sun cast the face of the house in a golden hue, and the rays shimmered on each of the many windows.
The car came to a stop before stone steps. A tall man dressed in a dark suit stood at the end of the steps. He came forward and opened the door. He bowed, offering his hand to Spin.
Spin hesitated. Though she had a healthy distaste for the upper class, especially those of blue blood, her mother had raised her with manners. Spin placed her fingers lightly in the man’s hand and was met with calluses.
Though he may be a front of the house servant, he clearly got his hands dirty. She gripped him more tightly, allowing him to alight her from the car.
“Greetings, my lady,” he said.
Spin took her hand away. “I’m not a lady.”
He simply smiled. “My apologies, Miss …?”
Spin stepped to the side as Zhi came out behind her, followed by Lark. Omar gave a salute before shutting the door. The car pulled off and headed back over the bridge.
"Welcome home, Your Grace,” said the man, bowing in deference to his employer. “I trust your trip went well?"
"It did indeed," said Zhi. "We have guests. This is Lark Voorhees and …” Zhi turned to Spin, eyeing her curiously. “You know, I don't know your real name.”
"Neither do I," said Lark. "I've known her over a year, and she’s only ever gone by Spin d’Elle. Don’t bother trying to get it out of her. She’s a master at evasive techniques. I tell her she should’ve been a magician, but I secretly think she’s in the Witness Protection Program.”
Spin ignored them and instead climbed the steps, neatly evading the topic of conversation. The front door was thrown open by a woman dressed in a black and white maid’s uniform. She smiled with interest at Spin.
Inside, the house was grand. Something out of a dusty fairytale book. Old but not exactly out of date. The furniture looked as though it had been around since before the Victorian age. It was well kept, but signs of wear and tear were visible if you knew where to look, which Spin did.
"May I help you with your luggage, miss?" said the maid who’d opened the door.
"I got it," said Spin. "You don't have to wait on me."
The woman smiled jovially. Her hair was in a perfect bun making Spin wonder just how good she was at cleaning all day if she didn’t have a hair out of place. “It's my job and my pleasure. Miss …"
“DJ Spin d’Elle. Or you can just call me Spin."
"Oh, how clever," said the maid. “Spindle like the spinning wheel needle."
Coming up from behind her, Zhi let out a laugh. "I didn't get that. It is clever."
Why did his praise warm her? Why did his smiles send tingles down her spine?
He walked up to Spin. Swaggered was more like it. She felt like a doe caught in the sight of a lean and hungry tiger. He held out his hand to her. Spin’s instinct was to clasp her hand with his and not let go.
“I’ll take my property back now,” he said.
Cold dread wash over her. Her hand immediately went to the jewel at her neck. “I didn't take anything."
He grinned, showing his incisors. "Yes, my lady, you did.”
Spin gulped. Instinct warned her to take a step back, to run. But her body was immobile, trapped under his gaze.
“My phone,” Zhi said.
She swallowed and then had to swallow again before she could speak. “Don’t call me a lady.” She slapped his phone into the palm of his outstretched hand. “And don't go on social media without my permission.”