The Ice Princess (9 page)

"Yes," he said slowly. She was too intense. What worried her now?

But before he could ask, she stepped back and wrapped her arms about herself. "Go, then."

He left quickly before his body could change his mind. With only a few days left now before the
Challenger
sailed, he was indeed busy. Stil he found time

to visit a small jewelry shop and make a purchase before the day was over. By the time he made his way back to the Grotto that night, it was wel past

dark.

So he was a bit surprised then not to find the usual guards outside the big double doors to the brothel. Perhaps they'd been called inside to deal with an

unruly patron. Isaac let himself in the Grotto and immediately saw a crowd of girls and some guests gathered at the door to one of the salons.

"It's my house!" someone was screaming from inside. Isaac pushed his way through the crowd, fearful that Jimmy Hyde was threatening Coral. But what

he saw inside the salon was a different scene altogether. The two men who usually stood guard by the front doors each held one of Jimmy's arms—and

none too gently. The little man was half lifted off his toes. But stil he managed to hurl threats and scream obscenities at the man who stood in front of him.

Big Bil y had his arms crossed and was watching Jimmy with dispassion. When the little man stopped to gasp for breath, Bil y spoke. "You saw the

papers right enough. Our Aphrodite has bought the shares fair and square and signed the Grotto over to me an' the girls. Now git on wi'

ye. We have no use for ye anymore."

With that Jimmy was dragged through the crowd which began to cheer.

"Drinks on the 'ouse for al in honor of our Aphrodite!" Bil y cried above the shouting.

Isaac made his way to Bil y's side as the girls and men began to go in search of free champagne. "What has happened?"

Bil y looked at him, a grin splitting his homely face. "She did it! She went to the other shareholders and persuaded them to buy out Jimmy. He'd gotten into

debt, made a few bad deals, and she had them demand a marker there, whisper a word here, and hey, presto! Jimmy's out of the Grotto. It belongs to us

now—the girls and the guards."

"And to Coral as wel , I presume," Isaac said quietly. Bil y shook his big head slowly, sobering a bit. "She sold out." Isaac felt ice enter his chest. "What do

you mean?"

"She's gone."

Even as he heard the words, Isaac was running from the salon, making for the stairs. But as he took them two at a time he knew already. Coral had left

him.

A muscle twitched in the Ice Princess' cheek and a very small piece of ice
chipped off.

The soldier raised his eyebrow and asked, "What is the last thing?"

"The heart of a good man," she whispered.

"Ah, that is the easiest of all," the soldier replied softly. He leaned forward and
placed his mouth against the Ice Princess' cold, cold lips.
And then a

very strange thing happened. For instead o f the soldier freezing,
the Ice Princess thawed. Hot tears spilled from her eyes, melting the ice that

covered her face. . . .

--from
The Ice Princess

The wind caught her skirts and swept them against her legs. Coral pushed back a lock of hair flying against her cheek. Out beyond the cliffs the iron-grey

sea was pushing whitecaps toward the shore and the heavy, damp air tasted of salt. She'd never lived by the sea, had been born and bred in the heart of

London, but somehow it had seemed right when she'd left the Grotto to come settle here. She half-turned and looked back along the worn narrow trail by

the cliffs. Her cottage was on the horizon, a smal white dot. It was a tidy little house with four rooms and a garden and it was al hers. With the money

she'd saved from the Grotto she should be able to live the rest of her days comfortably if not extravagantly. She'd hired a woman from the village to come

in twice a week to clean and cook. Perhaps she'd even learn to garden. Coral imagined herself in a wide-brimmed hat and an old apron, cutting some

type of flower-perhaps daisies. She'd bring the flowers into her kitchen and place them in a blue glass vase. Bil y and the girls and boys at the Grotto

would laugh if they saw her in such a domestic picture.

Coral wrinkled her nose. The cottage, her peaceful life by the sea, even the garden she had no understanding of, were perfect. Were everything she'd

worked her entire life for: independence and freedom. And yet.and yet her life here was so lonely.

So very lonely.

Coral faced forward again, walking beside the cliffs as she did everyday. Maudlin regrets were simply sil y. Her sister, Pearl, would've been quite pleased

to have Coral come live with her and her husband, but it hadn't seemed right somehow. Pearl was so happy now, so very settled into domestic bliss, that

Coral would've felt like a third wheel: unnecessary and awkward. So she'd come here, to live beside the sea. If she were honest with herself, she'd hoped,

deep down inside, that Isaac would fol ow her. Oh, she knew the wish was impossible--she'd left no note, no direction, no way for him to figure out where

she'd gone, even if he'd wished to fol ow her, but the hope had been there nonetheless.

Or it had been.

Coral kicked a smal pebble rather viciously and it went careening off the cliff. She'd held out hope for week after week, but now it had been six months

and hope had died. He was at sea again by now, or-wretched thought!--had found some other lady to court. For he'd courted her--she acknowledged that

now. He'd wooed her and made love to her, and in the end she'd fallen--hopelessly and helplessly--in love with Captain Isaac Wargate. A sob lodged in

her chest and Coral stopped, gazing sightlessly out toward the gray sea. She loved Isaac. After a life lived as a whore, after never feeling the slightest

emotion for any man, she'd fal en in love. A tear slipped down her cold cheek. Oh, how the gods must be laughing! She'd never see him again, would live

out the rest of her dreary life here by the sea simply because it reminded her of him.

Coral sighed, fished a tattered handkerchief from her sleeve, and wiped her face. How very stupid to stand here weeping in the wind. It must be almost

luncheon time and whatever stew the woman from the vil age had made would not taste better cold. Best to start back. She turned, watching her footing

for the path was rather rocky, and when she at last looked up she thought at first that she was imagining it. She blinked, but the sight was stil there.

A man, smal in the distance, but growing larger at a rapid pace. He strode over the gorse, his steps firm and long, and even from here she could tel that

he wore a naval uniform.

Coral's heart began to beat like a wild thing trying to fly. A long black cape blew against his legs and his shoulders were set with determination. He

must've seen her, but his stride didn't break and his expression didn't change. He was grim, like a man going to war, his wide mouth straight, his cheeks

like granite, his black eyes dour beneath lowered brows.

She had an instinctive animal urge to flee before his grim advance, but it was too late now. He was upon her.

She lifted her chin and opened her mouth--to cry for joy or to offer explanation, she did not know and it didn't matter anyway. He seized her shoulders and

kissed her.

And as the ice covering the Ice Princess melted, the frozen statues thawed as
well, until hundreds of living, breathing men stood where once there had

only
been frozen bodies.

The men gave a great cry and each and every one of them started the journey
back to their own homes. Soon only the Ice Princess and the soldier

remained.
Hot tears continued to drip down the Ice Princess’ pink cheeks, falling into the
hands she held in her lap.

The soldier looked at her and asked, “Why do you weep, sweetheart?”

The Ice Princess drew a heavy breath. “You’ve freed all my ice men and soon
you’ll leave as well. Then I shall truly be alone.” . . . .

--from
The Ice Princess

This
. This was exactly what he wanted.

Isaac wrapped Coral in his arms and kissed her with al his soul. He’d spent the last six months wondering if he’d ever see her again—if he’d ever
find
her

again—and now at last he had her. Something quieted in his chest. The hawk beating its wings against his ribcage all this time settled and closed its

eyes. Final y. Final y he’d found her. Not that his ire was altogether appeased.

Her lips trembled beneath his and she parted them with gratifying speed. He took her offer and plundered her mouth, making sure she knew who kissed

her. Knew that he had no intention of letting her go this time.

He raised his head and examined her. She wore a plain frock and shawl, an almost Puritan white cap upon her head. Had she thought to hide her beauty

from him with such a meager disguise?

“I searched for you,” he said with careful precision. “I searched for you obsessively for the six days before the
Challenger
left port--”

She blinked. “Six
days
?”

“And when I returned only a fortnight ago,” he continued, determined to speak his fil . “I stopped only long enough to see my men safely to port before

continuing the chase. I haven’t even had time to sit down to a proper meal on land since I made port, all because I was searching for you. And the worst

part, the most damnable part of al --is that until I came over that hil and saw you standing here I had no proof that I would find you at al .”

Here he may have let his iron control slip a bit for he found himself kissing her again, devouring her mouth like a starving man presented with a loaf of

bread. When he raised his head again he saw with some satisfaction that her cheeks had pinkened and she was looking a bit dazed. He almost smiled,

but he restrained himself in time.

“Explain yourself, madam.”

“I-I…” For a moment her cat-green eyes were dazed, but then they narrowed in suspicion. “How did you find me?”

Her mode of attire might have changed, but her wit obviously had not. He leaned close, her nearness warming his heart. “I’l tell you how I found you when

you tel me what was going on in that pretty head of yours when you abandoned me—”

She stiffened. “It wasn’t abandonment—”

“
After
a night of sublime lovemaking,” he continued, “which, I think most would agree, would lead any man to believe our relationship had taken on a

permanent basis. I think I could successful y bring a suit of breach of promise against you—”

“Oh!”

He bent and bit her ear gently. “Therefore, I would be most grateful if you would give me a reason for causing me such heartache.”

When he raised his head again she was looking contrite. “I never meant to cause you heartache, Isaac.”

He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Her color heightened. “I didn’t! You must know that we could never be together for very long. We—”

“Why not?” His words were clipped as he felt his ire rise. She gaped at him—and then began to laugh, though the sound was a little desperate.

Isaac contemplated kissing her again—or simply taking her here on the cliffs, but they needed to have this conversation in order t o move forward. And

besides, it was a chil y day.

So he simply waited until her gasping laughter quieted and then raised his brow again.

Her mouth turned down at the sight, the corners bitter and lined. “I’m a whore.”

“Were.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You
were
a whore,” he enunciated clearly. “But no longer.”

She shook her head as if the past tense was trifling. “You are a respectable man. A man whose entire career could be ruined simply by association with

me.”

She stopped and glared at him.

He nodded encouragingly, but she simply stared at him, looking rather frustrated.

“Is that it?” he asked politely.

She threw up her hands. “
Is that it?
That’s everything, I should think! I left because I could not bear the inevitable severing of our relationship. I left because

we could never be.”

“You left because you had a cowardly moment,” he replied drily. She opened her mouth in outrage, but he placed a finger over her lips. “My turn, I think.”

She closed her mouth and glared at him, mute, her arms cross.

“One,” he said, ticking his points off on his fingers. “You are no longer a whore. Two, you wore a
mask
, you little idiot—no one wil recognize you if you

don’t tel them your past. Three, I love you. Four, you love me. Five...”—He tapped his thumb against his chin—“Wel , I real y don’t have a fifth reason, but I

should think the first four are sufficient.”

“But—!”

He smiled benevolently down at her. She real y was quite lovely with her cheeks pinked by the wind, and he much preferred her simple white dress to the

gaudy things she’d worn at the Grotto. “To answer your first question, I found you because of your sister’s portrait-remember you had her miniature on your

dresser?”

She nodded, looking not a little distracted.

“Wel , I had quite a lot of time to contemplate the matter whilst I was at sea. The minute I made port I went to the Grotto and talked to Bil y. He sends his

regards, by the way. He told me that you had received regular letters from an address in Essex. I tracked down the address, talked t o your sister—she

sends her love as wel —and voila! Here I am.”