Cast in Ice (10 page)

After finalizing their plans, Nick left the Bedford Street Brigade office and walked down the street. He’d come on foot, and started to make his way back to the rooms he rented in a small boarding house. He’d gone a few streets over, then turned the corner and stopped. He stepped back around the corner of the nearest building so he wouldn’t be seen.

The woman who’d consumed his thoughts was exiting a shop across the street. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone, but had her maid with her. This wasn’t the safest section of London for a single young lady to visit.

He watched her until she was out of sight, then walked across the street and entered the shop she’d just exited.

A small, balding man with a paunch belly and thick spectacles, came out from a back room.

“Good day, sir,” he said, rushing forward. “May I be of assistance?”

Nick looked at several items beneath the glass in the counter. “Yes. The lady who just left. Did she bring something in to sell?”

“Why, yes, sir. She arrived with these items.”

The store owner brought out a small tray with three pieces of jewelry on it: a diamond bracelet, a ruby and diamond necklace, and ear bobs to match.

“Excellent quality, sir. I paid her handsomely for them.”

“Did you?”

“Oh, yes, sir.”

“Is this the first time the lady has brought something she wanted to sell?”

“Oh, no, sir. The lady is a regular customer. She’s been coming for nearly a year. And I always pay her an honest price. Her jewels are exquisite.”

Nick took another look at the jewels Winnie had brought to sell, then gave the owner a nod in farewell, and left the shop.

Winnie was either selling her own jewels, or jewels that belonged to her mother. And the reason was obvious—she needed money. Money she no doubt needed to keep her mother locked away so she could not be turned over to the authorities.

Nick thought of how helpless she considered her situation, and how alone she felt. Cruel fingers of dread squeezed his heart until it hurt, because…

…he’d played a part in her desperation.

Nick leaned against the corner of an alcove in the wall of the Hagarty ballroom and watched her. She wore a gown of deep emerald satin that showed off every luscious curve of her body. Her shoulders were bare, and the cut of her gown showed more of her bodice than he thought should be exposed.

Nick was jealous of every male fortunate enough to stand near her. More envious of the man who was dancing with her. So resentful that he wanted to walk across the ballroom floor and pull her from the man’s arms. Instead, he took another glass of champagne from a passing footman’s tray and downed half of it in one swallow.

Two weeks had passed since he’d last seen her, and the time seemed like two months. Or even two years. He’d thought of her more times than he could count every one of those days, wondering what she was doing. Whether or not she’d had to pawn more of her mother’s jewels. How much longer she could go on before she had no more jewels to pawn, or the jewels that were left didn’t give her enough money and she had to resort to something else for money.

A cold rush of unease washed over him. If—and when—she ran out of jewels, he knew to what she’d resort for the money she needed—her luck at cards.

He was fairly certain she’d kept her word and hadn’t gone back to
The Dove
. So far, at least. He’d gone there several times since he’d forced her to promise she’d stay away from the gambling hell, and hadn’t seen anyone who even resembled her yet. No one had that same hair, with streaks of gold and reds the candlelight illuminated as they nestled among the darker locks. No one with her same natural style and grace.

Nick shifted his gaze to where her dance partner had escorted her after the dance, but she was no longer there. Nick quickly scanned the area, and saw her just as she exited through a side door of the ballroom.

It wasn’t a door that led to the card room, where he’d just been, but to the portrait gallery, where the Hagarty ancestors hung in all their glory.

There was nothing exceptional about the long gallery, except that it provided a place where someone who didn’t want to spend time mingling and conversing, could escape to be alone. Nick gave Winnie enough time to be alone for a moment, then he followed her.

The long gallery wasn’t completely dark, but neither was it as brightly lit as the ballroom. Several decorative candles sat in holders on the walls between the portraits, giving the room a shadowy, almost romantic, appeal. Lady Winnifred stood at the other end of the long room, as still and unmoving as the people whose images had been painted in the portraits.

For several moments, Nick remained in the shadows and simply watched her. He didn’t want her to know he was there, but wanted to observe her.

He should have known that wouldn’t be possible for an extended length of time. It never took her long to know when he was near, just as he always sensed when she was close.

She turned and watched him as he approached her.

“Have you chosen to escape the throngs of suitors who clamor for a dance by fleeing to a place where no one will look for you?”

She lowered her gaze to the floor, but there was a smile on her face, although it was a weak smile. “The throng of noblemen wanting to dance are not suitors. They are friends of Lord Montroy, who my sister and her soon-to-be intended have coerced into partnering me. My sister is head over ears in love with Lord Montroy, and believes everyone in the world should enjoy such bliss.”

“And that includes her sister?”

“That
especially
includes her sister.”

“And you are not interested in finding that perfect male with whom you can settle into wedded bliss? Or have you already found him and he is not one of those begging for a dance?”

“No, Mr. Stillman. I am not interested in finding a man, perfect or not, who can control my every thought, word, and pound.”

“Oh, such a cynical view of marriage you have,” he said, unable to stifle a laugh.

“I simply prefer my independence, as well as my freedom.”

“Were I in your shoes, I would be loath to give up my freedom, too.”

Nick was surprised by the lift of her eyebrows. He’d surprised her. He held out his arm for her to take. “Would you care to stroll the gallery and peruse Lord Hagarty’s illustrious ancestors?”

Lady Winnifred hesitated, then placed her fingers on his arm.

“I’m surprised to see that you are here again tonight,” she said. “For someone who claims to dislike Society events, you have attended several in the past few months.”

“I’m attempting to humor my aunt and uncle.”

“They are pressuring you to attend?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Nick said, then stopped before a portrait of a Hagarty ancestor. “What kind of woman do you think she was?” he said, nodding toward the female in the painting. Her hair was streaked with gray, and her facial features seemed devoid of emotion.

Winnie studied the portrait for a few seconds, then said, “I think she might have been a kindly soul who kept mostly to herself. Beneath her shy, reserved exterior, there lived a vibrant woman, desperate for happiness and understanding.”

“You think then that she was not happy?”

“I think we will never know. She seems like the kind of person no one in her world considered interesting, or beautiful enough to write sonnets about, or make sure she was included in the annals of her time.”

“You make her sound quite pathetic.”

“Not pathetic. Simply overlooked. There are several such women in each generation.”

“And men, too?”

“Yes, and men, too.”

Nick continued down the long gallery. This time she stopped him. “What do you think of this fine-looking young man?” she asked, pointing to the portrait of a handsome man perhaps having reached his twenty-fifth year.

“He is no doubt the younger, overindulged heir to the Hagarty earldom. He has a glint in his eyes that most rakes possess. I’d venture the portrait was painted shortly after he returned from a London Season, and he’s remembering every bordello he visited while there.”

Winnie brought her hand up to cover the very unladylike giggle that echoed through the silent Hagarty portrait gallery. “You are terrible. Absolutely terrible.”

“What?” Nick said in mock surprise. “Isn’t that the first thing you thought of when you looked at that wicked expression on his face?”

She laughed again. “Yes, but…”

“Oh, no you don’t, Lady Winnifred. I refuse to allow you to go all naïve on me. I know what went on inside that pretty head of yours. You cannot pretend otherwise.”

“I simply think you are fortunate that Lord Hagarty didn’t overhear you malign his relative thusly.”

“Never fear.  I would have asked his pardon, or agreed to meet him at dawn so he could have his satisfaction.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she said, turning to face him.

“And you are beautiful, my lady. Absolutely beautiful.”

The air charged with an emotion that was overpowering. The expression on her face gave way to thoughts that hung in an unsteady balance. The yearning he saw in her eyes was impossible to miss.

He couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop himself from doing the very thing he swore he’d never do again.

Nick clasped his fingers around Winnie’s arms and brought her closer to him. When she was pressed against him, he lowered his head and touched his mouth to hers.

She didn’t indicate she was averse to his attentions. But neither did she encourage him to continue. It was as if she knew how dangerous kissing him was, and questioned whether either of them could survive the experience.

Nick didn’t stop, though, He deepened his kisses, demanding more from her, and she answered his pleas, slowly at first, then with greater intensity.

He kissed her again and again, kissing her until their breathing came in rasping gasps. Then, his tongue reached out to beg entry.

The tip of his tongue skimmed the crease between her lips, asking for entrance into her honey-warm cavern. When she didn’t answer his request, he asked again. This time she accepted his request, and parted her lips to allow him to enter.

The emotions that soared inside him rocked him to his very core. The desires she awakened were more intense than he thought he could hold at bay. The passion that surged through him nearly brought him to his knees.

He pulled her closer, reluctant to allow even a hint of space to separate them. And when she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, the sky exploded in a million bursts of flames.

He ran his hands over her arms, up and down her back, then around her middle and upward. His fingers met the swell of her breasts and he forced himself to stop, and not cradle them in his palms.

Oh, how he wanted her. How desperately he wanted to hold her and touch her and make her his own. How desperately he wanted to continue holding her and touching her and kissing her. Yet, a voice from somewhere in his mind shouted how dangerous that would be. That voice warned him that he needed to stop before things went too far.

Yet another voice warned him that they already had.

Nick slowly lifted his head and separated his lips from hers. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her to him to steady her. He knew if she were even a fraction as weak from what they’d shared as he was, her legs would have difficulty supporting her.

With a huge gasp of air, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed the side of her face against his chest.

They clung to each other while they struggled to catch their breaths, and for several moments, Nick didn’t think that would be possible.

How had something like this happened? How could a single kiss bring him to his knees like her kisses threatened to do? How could he have allowed her to affect him like this?

After what seemed an eternity, she loosened the hold she had around him and lifted her chin. Her gaze locked with his.

There wasn’t a great deal of light in the gallery, but what Nick saw attacked him with the force of a punch to the gut. Her eyes shimmered with a wetness that meant only one thing.

“Nothing’s changed,” she whispered as the first tear spilled from her eyes. “There can be nothing between us. You know that, don’t you?”

Nick wiped the wetness from her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “I know.”

She lowered her gaze. “I must go.”

She tried to pull from his arms but he stopped her. “I’m here if you need anything, Winnie.”

“I don’t need anything,” she answered, but her voice cried with need.

“But if you do.”

She lowered her gaze and nodded.

“Promise me,” he said, placing his forefinger beneath her chin and lifting until her gaze met his.

She closed her eyes, then stepped out of his grasp. “I have to get back. Father will wonder where I’ve been.”

She turned and left him, and Nick felt more alone than he’d ever felt in his life.

And more frightened.

. . .

Winnie left the Hagarty ball early, pleading a headache. Thankfully, her father didn’t question her malady. And in part, she hadn’t lied. Her head ached as well as every other part of her body. Especially her heart.

She couldn’t forget Nick’s kiss. Couldn’t forget how it felt to be held in his arms. How safe she’d felt. He possessed more of her heart with each glance. With each kiss. And she knew loving him would only lead to heartache.

The secret she kept from him would destroy any feelings he had for her. She could never let him discover where she’d put her mother. Never allow him to hand her mother over to the authorities. That would destroy the lives of too many people she loved. That would cause a scandal from which their family would never recover.

Nor could she risk him discovering that she’d lied to him when she told him she wouldn’t return to
The Soiled Dove
. She didn’t have a choice.

There’d been another letter last night demanding more money. The demands were coming more frequently, the amounts larger. This one was the largest. It was an amount that even pawning most of her mother’s jewels wouldn’t cover. There wasn’t an option other than praying she could win the amount she needed at the gaming tables.