Page 6 of Bait N' Witch

Atleigh rolled her eyes. “Our last nanny wore black all the time. Are you going to do that, too?”

Not her first choice. “Is that what Mr. Masters prefers?”

“No. Daddy never said anything about how our other nannies dressed.”

Probably because each had dressed like a perfect nanny. How long would it be before Greyson figured out Rowan was a total fraud?

“Which way is the basement?” Wandering the house searching did not sit well with her.

“This way.” Chloe, who’d been silent up till now, led the way through the house to the kitchen and pulled open a white painted door, which could easily be mistaken for a cupboard.

Hefting her suitcase, Rowan clumped down a steep set of worn wooden stairs. To her surprise, all three girls followed. In the basement, she found a suite complete with comfy couch and TV in the living area. The far wall boasted windows and a private sliding glass door leading outside, made possible by the way the house was built into the side of the mountain. The windows let in light, creating a cozy, bright atmosphere.

Perfect.

Off the living area, which she assumed was meant as a private space for her, she spied a spacious bedroom with a queen bed and an en suite bathroom. This space was larger than her apartment in New Orleans.

She made her way into the room, tossed her suitcase up on the bed, and proceeded to unpack. The girls stood around the room, silently watching.

“Where are you from?” Lachlyn asked.

“I’ve moved a lot, but I lived in Scotland until I was fifteen.” The source of her slight brogue.

“How many families have you nannied for?” Chloe asked now. Only Rowan caught the searching glance the girl sent her. Was intuition this girl’s gift?

Rather than answer her, Rowan turned it back. “How many nannies have you had?”

Lachlyn’s lips pinched. “You are the seventh. The first one lasted until we turned five. The other six have been since then.”

Rowan paused in hanging up a shirt and raised her eyebrows. “Why so many?”

The girls exchanged a glance, and Lachlyn shrugged. “They didn’t like it here.”

The smugness in their shared look said it all. They’d run off their nannies. Jeez, they were young to be doing that. But why?

As she reached for another shirt to hang, a black and white cat jumped up on the bed and rubbed against her outstretched hand. Rowan smiled. “Hello there.”

The cat nuzzled her hand again.

“Aren’t you a queen among felines.”

In response the cat curled up beside her suitcase and set to purring with a loud rumble.

“Her name is Nefertiti,” Atleigh asked. “She doesn’t like people since Grandma Essie died. Dad says.”

“I didn’t know your grandmother had passed away. That should have been in your file.”

“Great-grandmother,” Chloe corrected. “We didn’t know her.”

Rowan looked closer. How old was this cat? A sudden chill passed over Rowan, sending an involuntary shiver across her skin—there, then gone.

“Do you speak with animals?” Atleigh asked.

Rowan stilled. Dragonfly wings and barnacle butts. The idea was not to give away her true abilities that could help Greyson identify her.

“I have a slight ability.”

“What is your gift?”

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