Cast in Ice (25 page)

Winnie struggled to find the courage to refuse his demand, but she couldn’t. Before last night, she would have been brave enough to turn her back on Nick and his offer of help. But no more. The blackmailers had shown they were willing to kill, and her greater fear was no longer coming up with the blackmail payment, but being alive to pay it.

“Very well. I’ll let you accompany me, but only that. You will not interfere.”

Nick nodded. “I need to return,” he said, then offered his hand to escort her to the house. They’d only taken a few steps when Tilly rushed toward them.

Winnie knew the second she saw Tilly’s fear-ravaged expression that something was wrong, and she knew the cause of her terror.

“My lady,” she said when she reached them. “I need to speak with you.”

“You can speak in front of Mr. Stillman, Tilly. Have I received another message?”

“You h-have, my lady,” Tilly said, then handed Winnie the folded paper she’d brought with her.

With trembling hands, Winnie opened the paper and read the words.

A small cry escaped her lips and her legs buckled beneath her. She felt herself lose her balance and reached out for Nick.

All was lost.

Winnie read the words a second time, then a third, but they didn’t change. The blackmail demand wasn’t for the usual one hundred pounds, but for five
thousand
pounds.

It might as well have been a million. She had equally as good a chance of raising a million pounds as five thousand.

Nick took the paper from her hand and read it.

A surge of anger rushed through her. This was his fault.

She shifted her gaze from the words on the paper, to his face, but when she tried to turn her rage on him, she couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault. It was hers.

It had been her decision to let everyone believe the duchess had taken her own life. It had been her decision to take her mother to Saint Christina’s. And when she’d received that first blackmail letter, it had been her decision to pay the demand, instead of going to her father and admitting what she’d done.

Or, going to Nick.

No, everything that happened was her fault. She had to shoulder the responsibility—and the blame.

Except she didn’t know what to do now. If she were honest with herself, she’d never actually considered how this would end. She’d never allowed herself to look at her situation clearly enough to realize there wasn’t a way out of this. At least not one she could live with.

She turned her gaze to Nick. His handsome face blurred through her tears. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.

Nick stepped close to her and wrapped his arm around her and held her. “I know,” he whispered.

They remained in each other’s arms for several quiet moments, then he led her to the bench and they sat.

“You have to tell your father, Winnie.”

“No! I can’t.”

“You must. He is affected by what you’ve done more than anyone. He should have a say in how we handle this.”

“I can’t pay what they’re asking.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t know if Father will.”

“That will be his decision.”

“What if he decides not to pay the demand? What if he decides to let the blackmailer expose Mother?”

“Then your family will support each other as you weather the scandal.”

“But Anne?”

“You assume you know what Lord Montroy will do. Love is a powerful emotion, Winnie. When love is strong enough, it can survive anything.”

Winnie tried to envision every possibility that might happen once her father knew his duchess was still alive. There were scores of likely reactions, all of which were open ended.

But there was one outcome she didn’t want to consider. One end result she wasn’t sure she could live with.

“What about Father? I don’t think I can survive it if he rejects me,” she said, more to herself than to Nick. Because this was the first time she’d been truthful enough with herself to admit how the choices she’d made could be as devastating as the scandal caused if Society discovered that the Duchess of Townsend was a murderer.

She and Nick sat in the garden for several minutes while Winnie gathered the courage to face her father. This wouldn’t be easy. In fact, this would no doubt change the way her father felt about her. She had to prepare herself for that possibility.

“Are you ready?” Nick asked when Winnie pushed herself away from him.

She nodded.

“Remember, sweetheart. I’m here. I’ll always be with you.”

“Are you sure you want to be?” Winnie said. She lifted her gaze and attempted a smile. She knew she failed. There wasn’t one thing about this situation that warranted a smile.

“Yes, I’m sure. This is exactly where I want to be. By your side. With you beside me.”

“What if—”

“None of that. We’ve both known for a very long time that we belonged together. Even when you were just my
Ice Lady
I was drawn to you
.
”

Winnie lifted her chin. “Ice Lady. I don’t know what―”

Nick chuckled and smoothed a finger across her furrowed brow. “One day I’ll commission a portrait of her counting cards, with her regal posture and that absolute stillness of immense concentration, and then you’ll understand. But make no mistake.” He drew her closer. “I fully intend to melt her heart.”

Nick looked into her eyes and Winnie saw the depth of his feelings for her. The warmth he offered her. It was a reflection of the immense love she had for him.

“You have,” she whispered. “You have.”

Nick lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. Their kiss came from the untapped depths of the love they felt for each other, earnest and filled with passion.

Winnie answered Nick’s hunger with a fervor of her own. She loved him. She would never stop loving him. He possessed her heart. How could she leave him when he held in his keeping a part of her she would die without?

Nick kissed her again, then lifted his head and pulled her to him.

She pressed her cheek to his chest and listened to his heart beat strong and steady beneath her ear. This is what their love was like. The strong, warm, steady beating of life.

When she was ready, she separated herself from him and rose to her feet. “Will you go with me?”

“I’ll always go with you. Wherever. Forever.”

He reached for her hand and held it while they made their way to the house. This was what she would remember from this day.

Nothing beyond.

. . .

Winnie had never been more frightened in her life. She knew Nick could tell how nervous she was by the firm grasp she had on his hand. Her fingers tightened with each step she took toward the house. By the time they reached the Duke of Townsend’s study, his knuckles had lost most of their color from the strength with which she held on to him.

She stood before the closed door for several seconds, struggling to find the courage to do what she had to do. Finally, she tapped softly as if she hoped her father might not hear her and she wouldn’t be forced to have this conversation. But the Duke of Townsend’s voice bid them enter and she was left with no choice but to walk through the doorway and face her father.

“Father?”

“Your Grace.”

“Winnifred? Mr. Stillman? Is everything all right?”

There was a slight hesitation on her part before she answered. “Actually, Father.” She hesitated again. “Everything’s not all right.”

The Duke of Townsend rose from his chair and walked around his desk. His glare hardened and focused on Nick. As if he thought whatever wasn’t all right was his fault.

“Nick hasn’t done anything, Father,” she said quickly. “I have.”

“Perhaps we should sit down then, so you can explain exactly what you’ve done.”

Winnie sat in one of the two chairs facing the sofa and Nick sat in the other. Her father walked to the sofa, then stopped before sitting. “Am I going to need a drink for this?”

Winnie nodded. “I believe we might all like a drink.”

Her father stopped. “You are frightening me, Winnifred.”

“I know, Papa. And when you hear what I have to say, you’ll be disappointed in me as well. And perhaps even hate me.”

Winnie saw the stark change on her father’s face. For the first time since they’d entered the room, he grasped the severity of the situation. Except he had no idea how close to the truth her words were. It was more than likely, that he would indeed hate her.

Her father went to the door to make sure it was closed securely, then he poured brandy into three glasses and handed her one. Then one to Nick. When he was seated, he took a sip from his glass, then looked at her. “You’ve never been one for drama, Winnifred, so perhaps you’d like to begin.”

Winnie nodded, then took a drink from her glass and set it down on the low table in front of her. “Before I begin, Father, I want you to know that I love you. I would like to justify the decisions I made by saying that I only did what I thought was best for you. For all of us.”

“I’ve never doubted your love, Winnie,” her father said, “nor the love you have for your siblings. You’ve been more of a mother to Benjamin and Anne than their own mother was.”

Winnie’s heart twisted in her breast and tears welled in her eyes, causing her father’s strong, noble features to blur in front of her. What had she done? How could she live with herself if after today, her father hated her?

“Does this have something to do with your recent visits to
The Soiled Dove
?”

Winnie nodded. “I haven’t been to
The Dove
only a few times, Father. I went there often. Because I had to go. I needed the money.”

Her father sat forward. “Why did you need money?”

“Because I was being…blackmailed.”

“Blackmailed!”

Her father’s features turned hard, his eyes glared with deadly intent. “Why were you being blackmailed?”

“Because someone discovered something I’ve done. Something I couldn’t let anyone know.”

“What?”

Winnie clutched her fingers in her lap. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t tell her father what she’d done. She couldn’t bear to see the anger and disappointment on his face. She couldn’t bear to know that he hated her. That after today he’d never be able to bear the sight of her.

Suddenly, Nick’s hand rested atop hers.

“Tell him, Winnie,” he whispered.

Winnie nodded, then swiped at a tear that spilled over her lashes and down her cheek. “Mother isn’t dead, Father. She didn’t take her life like I allowed everyone to believe she did. She’s locked away where she can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

Her father’s reaction was explosive, but not in the way she imagined. He didn’t shout and rage like Benjamin would have done, but his anger was like a simmering volcano, lying dormant, while below the surface, it was building in intensity.

The shock and disbelief on her father’s face frightened her. He sat without moving, as if he were chiseled from marble. As if the words she’d just uttered had never been spoken.

After several tension-filled minutes, he pushed himself to his feet and stood. He staggered, then reached out his arm to clasp onto the back of the sofa and steady himself.

Winnie rushed up from her chair to go to him, but Nick’s hand rested on her arm to hold her back.

The Duke of Townsend stumbled to the window and stared out into the sunshine. But Winnie doubted her father saw anything but blackness. Doubted he felt anything but dark anger. Towards her.

“Why?” he demanded, as if the pressure building inside him could no longer be contained.

His voice was loud. His word wasn’t a question, but an accusation. Its meaning and intent the deadly fire of a rifle aimed at her heart. And finding its mark.

“Why would you do that?”

“For you,” she answered. “For Gideon, and his sons. For Anne.”

He turned on her. “And Benjamin? You didn’t do it for Benjamin?”

“Yes, but not as much. Benjamin could survive the scandal that would be unleashed if Society found out what Mother had done. But Gideon couldn’t. He hasn’t been toughened by the cruelties Society can deliver. The gossip mongers would destroy him, and Eve along with him. She’s even less equipped to deal with Society’s vicious attacks.”

“And Anne?” he fired at her.

“Anne wants nothing more than what she is about to have—a man whom she adores, and who adores her in return. How long do you think she’d survive knowing she’d never realize any of her dreams? Living through the scandal of what Mother did would kill the spirit that makes her so special.”

“And me?” His voice was louder. Almost a roar.

“More than anyone, I did it for you, Papa.”

His anger turned more explosive. His expression was livid. “You think I am so weak I could not have survived a scandal? Do you think I am such a coward I would have hidden away and not shown my face again?”

Winnie shook her head. “Just the opposite, Father. On the outside, you would have appeared to have survived the scandal the best of all of us. You would have put on the bravest of fronts. You would have walked through Society with your head high as you do now, while inside you would be dead and decaying. Watching the Townsend name reduced to ashes would have killed you.”