Cast in Ice (14 page)

“Winnie?”

Winnie bolted awake. She jerked to her feet and rushed to the bed.

“You’re awake,” she whispered. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Yes. Please.”

She reached for a glass with water in it. “Try not to move,” she said, bringing the glass to his mouth. She placed a towel beneath his cheek, then fed him one spoonful of water after another. Only part of each spoonful went into his mouth, but she was glad for the little he drank.

“Come down…so I can see you,” he said when he’d had enough to drink.

“There’s nothing to see,” Winnie answered. She knew he wanted to see how badly she’d been hurt, but her bruises were nothing compared to what they’d done to him.

“Let me…see,” he said again.

Winnie saw no sense in arguing with him, so she knelt by the side of the bed.

He looked at her face for a moment, then closed his eyes. “What did they…want?”

“They thought I was cheating and wanted to know how I’d managed to win so often.” She rose to her feet again, then rinsed a cloth in the water, and placed it on his back. He winced when the cloth touched him.

“Is that why they…tore your gown?”

“They thought I had cards hidden in my sleeves.”

“When are you…going to tell me…where she is?” he asked. “And why…you need the…money.”

Her hands halted their progress. She couldn’t answer him, so she ignored his question and continued to work.

“You know I’ll…find out. I won’t give up…until I do.”

His voice was getting weaker and the pain was worsening. “Don’t tire yourself out,” she said, working faster. “Asking questions won’t do any good.”

She heard him release a deep breath, and knew it was a sigh of frustration. She continued her ministrations, praying he would fall asleep again. But he didn’t.

When she finished with the damp cloths, she applied the salve Hodgekens had left. The pain made him forget his questions. He ground his teeth each time she touched him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’ll hurry as fast as I can.”

“What…is it? It smells…terrible.”

Winnie couldn’t help but smile. “I don’t know. But since Hodgekens gave it to me with strict instructions to place it on your back, I assume it’s something he uses on the horses.”

“That’s…reassuring,” she thought he said.

When she finished, she sat back down on the chair Hodgekens had brought in for her.

“Where am I?” he said when his breathing had returned to normal.

“You’re in the carriage house behind Townsend House.”

“You shouldn’t…be…here.”

“It’s still the middle of the night. I’ll leave before anyone rises. No one will know I was here.”

“I can’t…stay here.”

“No. We’ll leave for the country in a day. We’ll stay at Townsend Estate until you heal.”

“You’re going…too?”

She smiled. “I can hardly go out in public looking as if I were involved in a barroom brawl. I convinced Father I would cause less talk if he let it be known that I was needed at Townsend Manor, and returned to the country for a while.”

“Does he know…I’m—?”

“No. We’ll find a way to get you out without anyone knowing. But you need to rest as much as possible today. The trip tomorrow will be hard enough without you starting out exhausted.”

“Why did you go there…, Winnie?”

She knelt beside the bed and brushed her hand over his forehead. “Shh,” she whispered.

“Why?” he repeated.

He wasn’t going to give up until she answered, so Winnie gave him an answer that wasn’t a lie. “Because I needed the money. That’s the only reason I’ve ever gone.” She brushed her fingers over his forehead. “Now, go to sleep.”

He was having a hard time staying awake. His eyes closed, then opened, then closed again. “Rest well,” she whispered. “I’ll stay with you.”

She sat with him several hours, placing damp cloths on his back, then twining her fingers in his. She brushed his hair from his face when he thrashed from the pain, and assured him that she was there and she wouldn’t leave him alone.

It was all she could do for him. Only keep him comfortable, and pray he didn’t develop a fever.

After several hours, she rose and walked to the window. The sky was turning a lighter shade of black, which meant that the sun would be up soon. She knew she’d have to leave before long in order to get back to her room before anyone saw her.

She’d no sooner thought that when Hodgekens entered the carriage house.

“You’ll be needing to get back, my lady. The kitchen staff will be up and about any minute now.”

Winnie nodded, then wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. She took one final look at where Nick slept restlessly on the bed, then went to the door. “I’ll send out a tray of food later. Will you need anything else,” she asked.

“No, my lady. The lad will need to get as much rest as possible today. The trip to the country tomorrow will be a long one.”

She nodded, then stayed in the shadows as she went back to the house. Perhaps she could get a few hours of sleep before Anne came in to fuss over her. It might be as much rest as she’d get for the next week at least. Nick would need constant care. And she would be the one to care for him.

It was her fault he’d been injured.

. . .

Winnie sat with Nick’s head in her lap as the wagon made its way to Townsend Estate. Hodgekens had placed a soft mattress over the straw and made a makeshift bed for Nick to lie on. Winnie had provided a number of blankets and two of her best pillows for even more softness. They’d done what they could to make the two hour journey as comfortable as possible.

Winnie had also given Nick just enough laudanum for him to sleep most of the way. He’d shifted restlessly a few minutes ago and Winnie hoped they’d be lucky enough to get him settled in at Townsend Manor before he was awake. She didn’t want to think that he’d have to suffer while they carried him from the wagon.

At last the wagon slowed, then turned down the tree-lined lane that led to Townsend Manor. When they reached the manor house, they stopped and Hodgekens issued orders for a half dozen men to help carry Nick into the house and to the room the staff had prepared for him. Winnie followed close behind and arranged the covers around him when he was settled. Thankfully, he didn’t wake while they carried him.

“I’ll sit with him while you get settled in, my lady,” Hodgekens said when they were alone. “Tilly said to tell you she’s waiting for you. She ordered a tea tray to be sent up as she knows you’ll be hungry. And so will Mr. Stillman when he wakes.”

“Is he going to be all right?” Winnie asked. The color had drained from Nick’s face, and he seemed more restless, although he hadn’t woken yet. That wasn’t a good sign. She hadn’t given him that much laudanum. She thought he’d be awake by now.

“The trip wasn’t easy on him,” Hodgekens answered. “Some of the cuts across his back went mighty deep. We need to watch them close so they don’t fester. Or that he doesn’t develop a fever.”

Another wave of concern hit her. What if he did develop a fever? What if he died?

“But don’t you worry, miss. He’s young and strong. He’ll survive. Don’t you be thinking that he won’t.”

“Oh, Hodgekens,” she sighed as her eyes filled with tears. She was so frightened.

“You run along now. You look as if you’re ready to drop on your feet.”

Winnie glanced at Nick one more time, then turned to leave. “Thank you, Hodgekens. I won’t be long.”

“Take your time, miss. I have to put salve on his back. He’s gone too long without being cared for.”

Winnie left the room as Hodgekens reached for the salve. She wouldn’t be long. She needed to be with Nick…just in case he needed her.

When she got to her suite of rooms, Tilly had unpacked her clothes and had a tray of tea and small sandwiches waiting for her.

“Sit down and eat something before you return to Mr. Stillman,” Tilly said when Winnie had changed. “I’d order you to rest for a while, but I know you’d refuse that suggestion.”

“I can’t rest, Tilly. I have to get back to him.”

“At least have a cup of tea first, and something to eat.”

Winnie hadn’t eaten since early this morning and was hungry, so she drank a cup of tea and ate a sandwich. “Did the staff ask about my bruises?” Winnie asked as she ate.

Tilly laughed out loud. “You know they did. They talked of nothing else. I told them the same as I told your father: that you tripped going down the stairs, and your face hit the wall as you fell.”

“Do you think they believed you?”

“Of course. There was no reason for them not to.”

“What about Mr. Stillman? How did you explain that he was here?”

“Now, that was a bit more difficult. It took some creativity on my part. I told them that he was one of the brigadesmen who’d found and saved Lord Benjamin’s little Claire, and he was hurt working on a case. Mr. Wallace asked your father if it would be possible to hide Mr. Stillman here in the country until the case was solved because he had men searching for him. I told them that they mustn’t say a word about him being here to anyone because his life might be in danger if anyone found out.”

Winnie knew that eventually her father would hear that Nick had been here, and there’d be a lot to answer. But until that day came, they’d live with the story Tilly created.

Winnie finished her tea, then left her room to go to Nick. When she arrived, Hodgekens had just finished applying salve to Nick’s lacerations. “Has he been awake yet?”

“No, my lady. But it won’t be long now. He’s been stirring.” Hodgekens put the salve back on the bedside table. “Do you want me to stay until he wakes?”

“No, Hodgekens. I’ll be here. And Tilly will be here shortly with some broth. We’ll manage.”

Hodgekens nodded. “I’ll be going, then. There’s work to be done before nightfall.”

The stable master walked to the door. “Thank you, Hodgekens,” Winnie said before he could leave. “For everything.”

Their long-time servant gave a nod of understanding, then left the room. When he was gone, Winnie rinsed a cloth in cool water and placed it on Nick’s back. He jerked when the cloth hit his flesh and he moaned.

“Lie still,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. He moaned again, then his eyes opened.

“Where am I?” he slurred.

“At Townsend Manor. You’re in the country.”

“I don’t remember…”

“No, we gave you some laudanum before we left so you’d sleep while we traveled. Hodgekens said you might need more when you woke. Would you like some?”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “Not yet.”

Winnie rinsed the cloth and placed it on his back. He flinched each time she placed another cloth on his flesh. His hands grabbed fistfuls of bedding and squeezed it until his knuckles turned white. The muscles across his shoulders quivered.

“I won’t be much longer,” she said.

His breathing came in harsh gasps.

“Hodgekens said it was important not to allow the skin to dry out,” she said as she worked.

He didn’t answer, but held onto the bedding as if it gave him the strength he needed to endure the pain she was causing him. Finally, his grip relaxed and his breathing calmed. Whether he’d fallen asleep or lost consciousness, she didn’t know, but she was thankful that he was no longer awake.

When she finished, she sat down in the chair beside his bed and watched him sleep. Deep furrows still creased his forehead, and his body moved restlessly, as if he was struggling to free himself from the ropes that held him as the whip tore at his flesh.

Guilt ate at her. It was her fault he’d been whipped. For the thousandth time since she’d decided to let the world believe her mother was dead, she doubted the wisdom of her decision. Then, she’d picture how happy Anne was with the man she loved, and Winnie knew she’d made the right choice. How could she destroy Anne’s happiness and ruin her family’s reputation with such a scandal?

Nick moved restlessly, and Winnie reached out to calm him. She knelt beside the bed and placed her hand on his cheek. The feel of his flesh against hers sent spirals of emotion racing through her.