Cast in Ice (16 page)

As if he realized she was watching him, he turned his head. His gaze locked with hers and she continued to make her way toward him. When she was close, he attempted to rise.

“Please, stay seated,” she said. “There’s no need to rise.”

“I believe there is,” he said settling back down. “This is indeed a special occasion. I thought you might continue to avoid me until it was time for me to leave.”

She didn’t answer him, but walked to the bench and sat beside him. “I couldn’t any longer.”

“I’m glad.”

Winnie felt a smile lift the corners of her lips. “I don’t know why,” she said. “You should want me to stay as far away from you as possible.”

“Perhaps.” He breathed a deep sigh. “But I don’t. I want you here. I can’t explain it, but even when I’m not consciously thinking about you, you’re somewhere in my mind. You roam around inside my head as if you’re a part of me.”

His admission wrapped around her heart like a warm blanket on a winter day.

“I was serious, Winnie, when I said that from now on there would only be truth and honesty between us. I want to help you, and heaven only knows you need help. You’ve gotten yourself in over your head and you need someone to get you out of the mess you’re in.”

Winnie couldn’t listen to more of this. There was nothing she wanted more than for him to help her. There hadn’t been another note from the blackmailer lately, but that was only because she’d answered the demand with a partial payment and a note that said she didn’t have all the money now, but would soon. Except she didn’t know when soon would be now that returning to
The Dove
was no longer a possibility. And, she was perilously close to running out of jewels to pawn without her father or Anne noticing.

A lump formed in her throat and she pushed herself from the bench. She was afraid if she remained beside him, she’d be tempted to lean against him and tell him everything.

She stepped to the opposite side of the walk and looked out onto the flowers that were in full bloom. Without realizing that he’d risen from the bench, she felt him step up behind her. Then felt his arms wrap around her.

“Can you bring yourself to trust me, Winnie?” he said as a whisper against her neck.

Every part of her wanted to tell him that she would trust him with her life. She would trust him with everything she held dear. Everything except her family’s reputation.

He was a member of Mack Wallace’s brigade. He’d sworn an oath to uphold the law. To bring to justice anyone who broke that law. And that meant that he’d have no choice but to arrest her mother if he discovered where she was.

“Winnie?” he whispered again. Her name was like a plea on his lips. His entreaty the issue of an appeal to say she trusted him. And she wanted to.

But she couldn’t.

Instead, she turned in his arms and placed her cheek against his chest.

His heart beat in a steady rhythm beneath her ear. Then his arms wrapped around her and he held her close.

She knew she should step away from him. Being held in his arms was as much torture as it was ecstasy. Then, he placed his finger beneath her chin and pressed upward. His fingers traced the bruises on her face. They’d faded since Willard had struck her and didn’t hurt like they had before, but they were an ugly bluish-green. She tried to turn away from him, but he pressed his finger to the side of her jaw and forced her to remain focused on him. His gaze locked with hers, then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.

He kissed her with a hunger that stirred a response deep inside her. He drank from her as if he were dying of thirst and she was a well of clear, cool water.

She had no choice but to wrap her arms around his neck. She couldn’t touch his back, so she twined her arms around him and kissed him in return.

A moan echoed in the silence of the garden, whether from her or from him she didn’t know. But it seemed to be a sign of their mutual desperation, of their hunger for each other.

Nick deepened his kiss, breaching her entrance, touching his tongue to hers. Every emotion she possessed sang with satisfaction. The pleasure that soared through her was unmeasurable. The need for something she couldn’t explain was unbearable. And she couldn’t imagine finding that special perfection with anyone but the man holding her in his arms.

He kissed her again, then lifted his mouth from hers when their strength waned. He brought her to him while they breathed in huge gasps of air.

“This shouldn’t have happened,” Winnie whispered between ragged breaths. “I shouldn’t have allowed it.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it. Just as I couldn’t have.”

He lowered his arms and released her. She stepped back, then noticed him stagger as he made his way back to the stone bench.

“You need to return to the house,” she said, sitting down beside him. “You’ve been out too long. You’re still weak.”

“That may be from kissing you,” he said in a teasing tone, but the color was gone from his face and she knew he’d been up long enough. She’d let him rest for a few minutes, then help him back inside.

“What, no argument about my kissing you?” he said when he was on his feet and they’d taken a few steps toward the house.

“I know there’s something between us, Nick. I feel it as you do. But there’s more that will separate us than what will bring us together.”

“Only the secrets you’re keeping from me. Only where you’ve taken your mother. And why you had to visit
The Dove
, even after I warned you to stay away.”

His words were like a plunge into an icy pond. A reminder of the threat Nick was to her family. A glimpse of what would happen if she lowered her guard and allowed her feelings for him to blind her to the threat he presented.

If only she didn’t feel such a pull toward him. If only she’d never kissed him that first time. Or the next. Because now it was too late to forget. Now it was too late to pretend his kisses hadn’t changed her.

Now it was too late to get back the part of her heart he’d taken from her.

The days after their earthshattering kiss flew by faster than Winnie wanted them to. She wanted time to stop and never begin again. She wanted the days she spent with Nick never to come to an end. But she knew that wasn’t possible. Her bruises were gone, and a message had arrived two days ago from her father, hinting that she’d been gone more than a fortnight, and her presence was needed in London. He wrote that he had an important announcement to make and wanted her to be there when he made it.

Winnie was relieved. Anne was one step closer to finding her happily ever after. She was one step closer to being safe from the scandal Winnie feared would destroy them.

And just last night, Nick had informed her that his back had healed enough for him to travel. He mentioned that he’d been gone long enough and had work to do. Although she didn’t ask what that work was, she knew it involved Ellsworth, Willard, and what had happened at
The Soiled Dove
.

Several times during their long walks through the countryside, she’d wanted to ask him about his work as an investigator. More than once while they’d spent peaceful afternoons watching the ducks float on the pond in the center of the garden, she’d wanted to ask him why he’d been at
The Dove
that night, and all the nights before that. But she hadn’t because she’d been afraid bringing up his work would lead to him asking questions about her mother, and she didn’t want to risk having to battle his questions.

Instead, they talked about his family. About his mother, and father, and his three sisters. About living in Penrith. How old he’d been when he came to London that first time, and why he’d stayed. How he acquired a position as one of Mack Wallace’s brigadesmen. And so many other details that weren’t important, such as the fact that his favorite dessert was lemon pie. And that Mack Wallace’s wife, Cora, would have one fresh from the oven whenever she knew he was stopping by.

Or that he’d gotten a puppy for Christmas when he was six and he’d named it Hubert—Bertie for short.

But the idyllic days they’d spent together were nearly at an end. They would be returning to London in two days, and nothing would be the same after that.

She closed her eyes and imagined what her life would have been like if her mother had been a loving mother, instead of a cold-blooded murderer. What her future might hold if she and Nick had met under ordinary circumstances. What her future might hold if she and Nick had fallen in love the same as Anne and Lord Montroy had.

But those were nothing more than dreams. Fantasies. The imaginings of someone who wasn’t grounded in reality. And if Winnie was anything, she was grounded in the here and now.

She stopped and listened. She wasn’t sure if she heard the approach of footsteps along the cobbled path and knew he was coming, or if she just sensed he was there. Whatever, she turned her head and saw him walking toward her. Her heart did a summersault in her chest and beat more rapidly than before.

“I thought I’d find you here,” he said, coming near her and taking the seat beside her on the bench. “Tilly said you’d gone out-of-doors, and I knew you’d either be here, or in the gazebo.”

Winnie smiled. “I made it this far and stopped. I was just thinking of sitting in the gazebo for a while.”

He stood, then held out his hand for her to take. “Allow me to escort you.”

Winnie placed her hand in his and rose to her feet. He tucked her arm in the crook of his elbow and walked with her into the garden beyond, where the gazebo overlooked a second pond. One that was larger than the other.

“Tilly said you received a message from your father two days ago. Is everything all right?”

Winnie walked close beside him. She needed the nearness of her skirts brushing his hip. Needed to feel his strength. “Yes, everything’s fine. He simply wanted to know when I would be returning.”

“Did you answer him?”

“Yes. I told him I would return Thursday.”

“Two days.”

“Yes. Two days. He said he knew I’d want to be there when he announced Anne’s engagement.”

They reached the gazebo and Winnie took the two steps up, then sat on the wooden bench that spanned the perimeter of the structure. Nick sat beside her.

“Does the news of your sister’s engagement please you?”

“Very much,” she said, realizing that it was true. She was happy for Anne. And relieved that her husband’s name would protect her from anything that might happen in the future. “Anyone who watches them for more than a second or two has to see how in love they are.”

For several minutes, they sat in silence and watched the ducks and geese swim lazily from one side of the pond to the other. Winnie loved peaceful times like this. She loved how comfortable she felt with Nick. How much she enjoyed his company. Even when he didn’t speak.

Then, he broke the silence. The tone of his voice shattered their peaceful intimacy. His words ruined the quiet serenity she was enjoying.

“We need to talk.”

Winnie didn’t ask what he thought they needed to talk about. She knew. From the moment she’d informed him that they would be leaving in two days, there’d been a change in him. He’d turned more serious.

He was no longer a man who’d come to the country to heal from the injuries he’d suffered, and rest to build his strength. He’d reverted to his persona as one of Mack Wallace’s Bedford Street Brigade investigators. A man who took his job seriously, and who would stop at nothing to solve the case he’d been involved in nearly a year ago. And that case was to find the Duchess of Townsend and bring her to justice.

Winnie rose from the bench and walked to the wooden railing that edged the gazebo. She grabbed onto one of the pillars that extended to the roof and held onto it as if it were a lifeline that would protect her.

“We’ll only be here for two more days, Nick. Please don’t ruin them.”

“You need my help, Winnie. You’re in over your head and you need someone to get you out of the mess you’re in.”

“And you’re that person? You want me to trust you to help me?”

“Yes.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “You want me to trust you when I know your intent is to destroy my family’s reputation, and bury us in a scandal from which we will never recover,” she said as an accusation.

“That isn’t my intent,” he argued.”

“But that’s what will happen.”

He paused, then said, “What if I told you that I wouldn’t turn your mother over to the authorities?”

Winnie turned around to face him. She couldn’t have heard him correctly.

He stood with his feet braced wide, his stance rigid, his expression serious.

Winnie studied him for several long seconds. Then she shook her head. “I wouldn’t believe you,” she answered.

“What if I gave you my word?”

“You don’t have the authority to make that kind of promise.”

“But Mack Wallace does.”

Her mind hurt as she tried to sort through what he was saying. “Assuming that my mother is still alive, and that I know where she is, why would you want to know her location if you don’t intend to turn her over to the authorities?”

“To protect your family. To protect you.” He took a step toward her. “Your mother is a murderer. She’s a danger to several in your family, as well as to you if she blames you for holding her against her will, which I’m sure she does.”

Winnie turned back to face the ducks floating on the water, although she hardly noticed them. She was trying to sort through what Nick was saying.

He came closer to her. So close that when he stood before her, her hem covered the tips of his boots.

Winnie had to look up to see into his eyes, something she seldom had to do. He stood so close she could see the flecks of gold in his ebony-hued eyes. If she reached up, she could trace her finger along the chiseled angles of his high cheekbones and rigid jawline. She could touch her finger to the spot where a crease deepened near the corners of his mouth each time he laughed.

But he wasn’t laughing now. His expression was serious. The look in his eyes filled with intensity. And his stance was as firm and unyielding as he’d been when she’d first met him.

“Tell me where your mother is, Winnie,” he said as a whisper. “Let me help you.”

Winnie felt as if someone were slowly ripping her heart from her breast. Nick was offering her the one thing she wanted more than any other, someone to help her. Someone to carry the burden that had been thrust on her. Someone to take the weight from her shoulders and tell her everything would be all right.

And who better in the whole world to do just that than Nick. And who more dangerous to her and her family than...Nick.

She hesitated, unsure of what to do. If she told him, he would discover who was blackmailing her. He could make that whole nightmare go away. He would make sure the Duchess of Townsend never hurt anyone ever again. He would make it so she never had to pawn another piece of jewelry, or play another game of cards. Nick could fix everything.

Winnie opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

What if Mack Wallace insisted that they turn her mother over to the authorities? What if Nick’s assurances were empty promises? What if trusting in him destroyed her father’s reputation? Ruined Anne’s happiness? Destroyed her future?

Winnie stumbled back. Her hands went to her head as the pillars of the gazebo moved in dizzying circles.

“Winnie?” she heard his voice call out. His hands clasped her upper arms and he pulled her toward him. But the world around her refused to stop moving.

“Sit down,” he ordered.

He brought her down to the wooden bench in the gazebo and sat with her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her until the earth righted itself.

She tried to pull away from him, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Don’t move,” he said. “You need to stay seated a little longer.”

She relaxed back against him. “I don’t know what happened,” she said, pressing her cheek to his chest. His heart was beating faster than normal. But so was hers.

“I know what happened. You nearly fainted.”

“I can’t believe—”

“This has gone on long enough, Winnie. You have to let me help you. You have to tell me where you have your mother hidden, and let Mack Wallace decide what to do about her. I need to know why you are so desperate for money. Does it cost that much to keep her where you have her? Or is there something else? Tell me, Winnie,” he said louder that she was used to hearing him speak.

She shook her head. She was suddenly afraid. Not of Nick. Never of Nick. But of what might happen if she told him where her mother was hidden.

“I’d like to return to the house now,” she said, rising to her feet. She staggered, but Nick was there to help her.

“Take my arm,” he said, extending his arm. She took it and he led her back to the house.

“Do you need a doctor?” he asked when they reached the house. There was concern in his eyes. A worried expression on his face.

“No, I’m fine. I just felt faint for a moment. I’m fine now. I just need to lie down.”

Nick led her to her room.

“Will you be down for dinner?” he asked when the door opened and Tilly stood there.

“I’ll just have a tray brought up to my room, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” Nick shifted his gaze to Tilly. “Watch your mistress. She isn’t well.” With that, he turned and walked away.

Tilly fussed over her, and sent her straight to bed. Winnie pretended to sleep, but sleep was an elusive fantasy. Her mind was too occupied with what she would tell Nick. Of what, if anything she could share with him. And a voice deep down inside her warned her that there was nothing she could tell him. Nothing that she could risk sharing with him.

Still, she knew that her refusal to tell him where her mother was would destroy what little faith he had in her.

Would destroy any chance they had for a future together.