Cast in Ice (23 page)

“Someone has found out mother is alive,” she whispered. “I’m…being blackmailed.”

Winnie opened her eyes but she wasn’t brave enough to move. Her head throbbed as if a blacksmith were pounding on an anvil behind her eyes. She took several shallow breaths as she waited until the pounding eased.

Her bedroom was bright with sunlight, which meant it was at least midday, if not later. She wondered how long she’d slept. She wondered how much of what happened after Nick carried her inside she didn’t remember.

She remembered her father’s shocked expression. She remembered Nick carrying her up the stairs and to her room. She remembered the doctor coming, and that was as much as she could recall. She hated to think she might have fainted. She’d never fainted in her life. But she couldn’t think of another reason she didn’t remember anything after Dr. Bentley walked into her room to see her.

When she felt braver, she turned her head slightly. Someone had pulled a cushioned chair close to the bed. She recalled waking once during the night and seeing Nick there. But that must have been a dream. She couldn’t imagine her father allowing him to sit with her all night, except he must have. The image of him sitting there was too vivid. And the thought of him staying with her was comforting. Until she remembered that she’d told him the secret she’d been so careful to keep—that she was being blackmailed.

The panic she experienced would have taken her to her knees if she’d been on her feet. Instead, she clutched at the covers on her bed and wadded the material in her fists. Why had she done something so careless? After what had happened to her at
The Dove
, she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to stand up under one more heavy weight, especially the weight of being blackmailed. But how did she think telling Nick would help? She should have realized once he knew, everything would be worse.

Winnie took in a deep breath and released it on a heavy sigh. Only after lying there a few moments more was she brave enough to look around the room. Her gaze stopped when it collided with Nick standing across the room.

He stood in front of the window, his sun-drenched body an ethereal sight. He wore only black trousers and a white lawn shirt. He’d draped his black jacket and silver waistcoat across the back of the straight-backed chair near the wall. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled to mid forearms.

He stood with both arms pressed against the frame of the window, his head rigid as if in thought. His stance pulled the material of his dress shirt tight across his shoulders.

The sight of him standing there took her breath. He was the most beautiful human she’d ever seen. Her heart swelled inside her chest when she thought of what they’d shared. The sight of him stopped time and stole thought. It consumed her as she watched him for as long as she dared.

As if he realized she was awake, he turned and looked at her.

“I almost thought you were going to sleep the day away,” he said, coming toward her.

“I…” Winnie tried to speak more than once before her voice would work. “What time is it?”

“It’s nearly four in the afternoon.”

As if he knew what she wanted, he poured some water into a glass, then lifted her head so she could drink. She winced when the glass touched her sore lips, but the cool water felt good on the cut in her mouth and on her dry throat.

“Drink it slowly. And not too much,” he said, lifting the glass from her mouth.

He lowered her head back to the pillow and sat in the cushioned chair beside her bed. This is where she’d envisioned him in her dream. “Have you been here all day?” she asked.

He nodded, then smiled. “It wasn’t easy to convince your father that I needed to stay.”

“I don’t imagine it was. What did you tell him?”

“That it was imperative that I ask you some questions the moment you regained consciousness.”

“And he believed you?”

His smile broadened and the two creases on either side of his mouth deepened. Winnie lost track of the times she’d wanted to trace her finger against those creases. He suddenly seemed even more handsome than before.

“Probably not,” he answered. “But I think he was so impressed with the length to which I’d go with a lie, that he didn’t have the nerve to tell me to go home.”

Winnie couldn’t help but smile, even though she knew it would smart.

“Winnie, we—”

“Not yet,” she interrupted. “I know what you want to talk about, but I’m not ready.”

“You’re being blackmailed,” he said.

Winnie turned her head to avoid having to face him. There was a tinge of anger in his voice, as well as a deal of concern.

“Just when do you think you will be ready to talk about it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you know who’s blackmailing you?”

He asked the question as if she hadn’t just said she wasn’t ready to talk yet. She knew he didn’t intend to give up, so she shook her head in the negative.

“How long have you been blackmailed?”

“Weeks. A month. Maybe two.”

“Why didn’t you say something before now?”

She shook her head. “It’s my problem. No one else’s. I regret I told you.”

He was quiet for several long moments. Then, the investigator in him took over and he continued his questions. “This is why you visited
The Dove
. You needed the money to pay the blackmailer.”

When she didn’t confirm his assumption, he asked another question. “What else do you need money for?”

She hesitated, then answered. “To pay for extra guards to make sure Mother doesn’t escape.” Winnie turned her head until her gaze locked with Nick’s. “She’s getting worse.”

“Worse, as in how?”

“She has to be confined most of the time because she becomes violent. She believes everyone intends to do her harm. She doesn’t trust anyone, especially the people who care for her.”

“When is the last time you saw her?”

“Before we left the country to come to London. I went to see her, to say good bye.”

“What was her reaction to you when she saw you?”

“She became very agitated. She had to be restrained.”

“Did your mother attack you?”

Winnie turned her head. She didn’t want to answer Nick’s question. It would make things seem much worse than they were. It would emphasize how dangerous her mother had become—to everyone.

“Did she hit you?”

Winnie couldn’t answer Nick’s question. She couldn’t tell him how violent she’d become. And yet…

“She blames me for what happened to her. And she has a right. I locked her away.”

“Where is she, Winnie?”

Winnie hesitated, then asked the question that would determine her next step. “What would you do if I told you where she is?”

“That would be up to Mack Wallace and your father.”

She shook her head. That wasn’t a possibility. She knew what her father would do. He’d told her so time and again before she’d made the rash decision to stage her mother’s death: He’d turn her over to the authorities and have her charged for the murder of his first wife, and the attempted murder of his son and heir, the Marquess of Sheffield.

“How do you think this is going to end?” he asked, then waited for her to answer.

She couldn’t. She didn’t know how this would end. She only knew she couldn’t hand her mother over to the authorities until Anne was safely married. And that wouldn’t be for months yet.

“Tell me about the blackmailer. Do you have any idea who it might be? How do they get in touch with you?”

“I don’t know who it could be. And they contact me with written messages. Notes are left at the back door during the night. Cook finds them in the morning when she opens the house.”

“Do you have one of these messages?”

Winnie pointed to the desk. “The last one I received is in the bottom right-hand drawer.”

Nick walked to the desk and opened the drawer. He searched for a moment, then removed the scrap of paper. He brought it back with him, then sat on the chair and read it. “When did you receive this?”

“Two days ago.”

“Did anyone see the person who delivered it?”

Winnie shook her head. “As I said, they arrive during the night.”

“What does the blackmailer mean,
Leave one hundred pounds in the usual place
? Where’s the usual place?”

“I’ve been instructed to leave the money on King Street, off Drury Lane.”

“Where on King Street?”

“In the alley behind a small bakery—Jewel’s Bakery. There’s a brick in the bakery wall that slides out. I’m to put the money there.”

What does the blackmailer say will happen if you refuse?”

“Mother will make a miraculous return from the dead, and make a shocking appearance at a future
ton
function.”

“Are you certain that this blackmailer knows where your mother is? Or could they be making idle threats?”

Winnie sighed. “They know. The first message told me where they’d seen Mother. There’s no doubt. They know.”

“When do you have to deliver the money?”

“Tomorrow night.”

“That gives us a little more than a day to decide how to catch our blackmailer.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to call in some favors. I’ll have plenty of brigadesmen to cover my back.”

Winnie wanted to trust Nick, but it was so hard. She hadn’t been able to trust anyone for so long, it was impossible now.

“You’re worrying, Winnie. You shouldn’t.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“How many times have you had to leave money behind the bakery?”

She looked away from him. “This is the fifth time.”

“They’re not going to stop, Winnie. They’re going to continue to demand money, because they know you’ll do anything to keep your mother’s whereabouts a secret. This will continue until your blackmailer is caught, and your mother is turned over to the authorities.”

For several moments she was unable to speak. She tried, but the lump in her throat stopped her words. Finally, she said, “You may be able to catch the blackmailer. But I’ll never allow you to turn my mother over to the authorities. I can’t, Nick.”

“There’s no other way out of this, Winnie.”

“There has to be,” she said. Then closed her eyes. “There has to be.”

The next time Winnie opened her eyes, Nick was gone and her Father was sitting in the chair beside her bed.

“How do you feel, Winnifred?” he asked.

Winnie saw the concern on his face as well as determination. She breathed a deep sigh. Her father had questions that deserved answers. Except she couldn’t give them to him. This conversation wasn’t going to be easy.

“Much better, Papa. Although I doubt I look it.”

“No, I daresay you don’t. Would you like to sit?”

“Yes, please. I’ve been in bed long enough.”

“I’ll help you sit, then we’ll have tea. Tilly just brought a tray. Along with some pastries and sandwiches. She thought you might be hungry when you woke.”

“I am,” she answered, then held out her arm for her father to help her sit. Then stand. When she was on her feet and had slid her arms through the sleeves of her robe, she sat in the cushioned chair beside the bed.

Her father brought forward the strait-backed wooden chair, but before he sat, he poured tea and handed her a cup along with a plate with a pastry and sandwich on it. He placed a sandwich on a plate for himself, then sat in the chair and crossed his long legs, the ankle of one foot resting atop the opposite knee. He then leaned back in his chair as if he was ready to begin his interrogation.

“I’m sure you’re confused as to why I was at
The Soiled Dove
last night,” she began. Winnie swallowed, waiting for the pain in her jaw to subside before she continued. “I don’t know how much Benjamin told you—”

Her father held up his hand to halt her from continuing. “I have decided to ignore the lies your brother told me concerning the reason you were at an establishment like
The Soiled Dove
.”

“You didn’t believe him?” she asked.

“I
raised
your brother. I’ve had twenty-four years of practice determining when he was telling me the truth, and when he was speaking a lie. Almost every word he said to explain the reason you were at a gaming hell was a lie. I would now like to hear your explanation.”

“Are you as adept at knowing when I’m telling a falsehood as you are when Ben speaks?”

“Almost, but I’ve only had twenty-one years of practice learning when you are telling the truth, and when your words are false. And you are more difficult to see through than Ben. Anne, of course, is the easiest. Lying doesn’t come naturally to her.”

Winnie stifled a smile that threatened to unleash new waves of pain in her swollen face. No, Anne didn’t know how to lie. She’d never had to learn. Her unpracticed innocence came through naturally.

“Should we start with an easy question…” he asked.

Winnie wasn’t sure there were any easy questions. Everything her father would undoubtedly ask was something she didn’t want to reveal.

“…such as the real reason you were at
The Dove
last night.”

Winnie lowered her gaze. “I overheard your conversation with Mr. Wallace and Ben yesterday. I knew the goal was to prove Lord Cavanaugh was the man who’d funded
The Dove
. I simply had a better plan, so I chose to implement it.”

“And your other reason for taking such a risk?”

Winnie couldn’t face her father. “What makes you think there’s another reason?”

“Twenty-one years of practice,” he answered. “A father knows more than his children think he does.”

Winnie knew her father wouldn’t give up until he knew her real reason. “I knew the plan was for Mr. Stillman to go to
The Dove
and lose enough money to be given the opportunity to recoup his losses by entering the box with Mr. Ellsworth. I knew what would happen to Ni─Mr. Stillman if Mr. Ellsworth had the chance to fight him with his whip.”

“And how did you know that?”

Winnie hesitated. “I’d seen Mr. Ellsworth fight him before. I knew this time Mr. Stillman wouldn’t survive.”

“Here’s another easy question,” her father said. “Who hit you?”

“Harvey Willard. He and Basil Ellsworth were convinced I was cheating. They wanted to teach me a lesson.”

“Why were they convinced you were cheating?”

“Because I won nearly every hand I played.”

“I take it the bruises you suffered several weeks ago weren’t caused by a fall, like I was led to believe, but because this Mr. Willard was teaching you another lesson?”

Winnie nodded.

“May I also assume that you were a frequent visitor to this Soiled Dove?”

Winnie nodded again.

“Why?” her father asked. His voice was soft, yet unyielding. The one word a demand instead of a request.

Winnie thought of the way to best answer his question, but there was nothing she could say that would not lead to more questions. Questions she couldn’t answer.

“Is my question too difficult to answer?” he asked. “Or will your answer be too incriminating?”

“Incriminating sounds as if you think I’m guilty of something, Father. I’m not. I visited
The Soiled Dove
because they allow females at their tables. And you know how I love to play cards.”

“I know no such thing. You don’t love to play, you simply have a gift when it comes to playing. A gift that allows you to deduce what your opponent has in his hand. You haven’t loved playing cards since you were called out for cheating at Lady Winsmore’s ball, and I had to assure everyone that you hadn’t cheated. You told me then that your ability to know what cards were out wasn’t a gift, but a curse. Which leads me back to my original question. Why were you a frequent guest at
The Soiled Dove
? Were you in need of money?”

Winnie opened her mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. The word she intended to speak would have been a lie. And she found it impossible to tell her father any more lies than she already had. Silence was the better option. So she said nothing.

“Why did you need money, Winnifred? What reason could you possibly have that you couldn’t come to me? Don’t you know I would have given you whatever you needed?”

Winnie couldn’t look at her father. She couldn’t face him.

“I take it then, that you were convinced I would not approve of the reason you needed the money.”

When she didn’t answer this time, her father pushed himself out of the chair and walked across the room. He didn’t look at her, but stood before the window, looking out. His legs were braced wide, as if for battle, and his hands were locked behind his back.

“What are you involved in, Winnie?” he said, without turning.

The fact that he was unable to look her in the eyes tore at her heart. Her father had never been disappointed in her. He’d never had cause to be ashamed of her for anything she’d ever done. But when he discovered the secret she was hiding from him, he’d hate her. He’d consider what she’d done the ultimate act of betrayal.

Her father turned from the window and looked at her. His eyes held a pleading she’d never seen before. An imploring for her to trust him. To tell him what she was involved in.

Tears welled in her eyes and a lump formed in her throat.

“Winnie,” he said, his voice soft, her name on his lips a supplication. “Let me help you. Tell me what I can do so you don’t have to go through this alone.”

The first tear spilled over her lashes and trickled down her cheek. “I can’t, Papa. Not yet.”

His shoulders sagged in disappointment. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready, Winnie.”

“I know you will, Papa.”

Her father walked to the bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Then he walked to the door.

“Papa?” she said when he reached for the handle.

He turned. “Yes?”

“Encourage Anne and Lord Montroy to marry as soon as possible.”

A frown deepened across his forehead. With a sharp nod, he left the room, and she was alone. More alone than she’d ever been in her life.

For the first time in her memory, she couldn’t stop the river of tears from falling.

. . .

Winnie sat in her room and waited until the house was quiet and everyone was asleep. The blackmail money was wrapped in paper and tied with a string. She’d wait a few more minutes to make sure it was safe, then she’d take the servants’ stairs to the kitchen, and out the door. Hodgekens would be at the end of the alley. This wasn’t the first time they’d made this trip. They were both familiar with the procedure.

“Everyone’s abed,” Tilly whispered, “and from your father’s snoring, he’s dead to the world.”

Winnie smiled. “Thanks, Tilly. Wait here. I won’t be long.”

“Yes, you will. You’ll be gone nearly half the night. It takes that long to make the trip to King Street and back. And that’s not the time it takes to deliver the money.”

Winnie rose from the chair and Tilly helped her put her cloak around her shoulders. “Has Mr. Stillman said what he intends to do?”

Winnie shook her head.

“Do you think he’ll be there?”

Winnie stopped on her way to the door. “I don’t know. I think so. I don’t think he wants me to know his plans.”

“That would be the most intelligent decision he could make.”

“I’d rather know.”

“I know you would, my lady. But if you knew, you might interfere. And he doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“But I may be able to help.”

“All your interference will do is cause trouble. Just deliver the money and come back safe.”

Winnie knew Tilly was right. With the money clutched tightly in her hands, she made her way down the stairs and to the waiting carriage. Hodgekens opened the door and helped her in, then closed the door behind her.

“Do you have the money?” Nick’s voice said from inside the carriage. He was on the seat beside her.

Winnie couldn’t stop the squeak of surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m going with you.”

“What if the blackmailer sees you?”

“He won’t. I’ll make sure he doesn’t.”

“What are your plans?”

“A couple of brigadesmen are watching the area now. When you leave the money, we’ll watch to see who picks it up.”

“Then what?” Winnie’s heart beat a little faster in her breast. Was it possible that tonight might be the last delivery she’d ever have to make? Was it possible that Nick and his fellow brigadesmen could apprehend the blackmailer and arrest him? Or her? And she’d never have to worry about anyone finding out that her mother was still alive?

“We need to follow them when they leave the alley. It’s possible that whoever comes to get the money is not the blackmailer. Capturing the wrong person won’t tell us who is blackmailing you, and will only make matters worse.”

Winnie had to agree with Nick. It was very likely that the blackmailer wasn’t careless enough to take such a risk, when staying hidden would be safer.

A million scenarios played and replayed in her mind, but each one vanished before she could see any kind of clear resolution to the night’s mission. The silence inside the carriage was both blessing and agony until at last the carriage slowed, and Winnie knew they were almost there.

“Do everything like you normally do,” Nick said. “After you leave the money, get back into the carriage and go home.”

“Where will you be?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Nothing can go wrong, can it?”

“No, Winnie. Nothing can go wrong.”

“Promise me. Promise me you won’t get hurt.”

She saw his smile in the faint moonlight. “I promise.”

Before the carriage came to a halt, Nick leaned over and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss lasted longer than she thought it should. It didn’t last nearly as long as she wanted.

She ignored her bruises and kissed him back with all the passion she felt for him. With all the love she knew would never be possible for them.

The carriage stopped when it reached the alley. Winnie got out when Hodgekens opened the door, then walked down the alley and removed the brick from the bakery wall. She placed the money inside the opening, then replaced the brick, and walked back to the carriage.