The Ice Seduction Page 22

  ‘Where’s Margaret?’ I say, my voice low.

  ‘Making sure that idiot gardener, Gregory, isn’t harbouring Bertie at his cottage.’ She turns to look at the shivering Bertie in my arms. ‘But I see that Bertie is right here.’

  ‘Stay away from him,’ I say. ‘I mean it. Don’t come any closer.’

  ‘Come along Bertie,’ says Agnes, holding out a long, pale arm. ‘Come with me. You won’t be in any trouble. If you stay here with the nanny, then I’ll have to tell granddad that you haven’t behaved yourself.’

  Bertie grips my arm even tighter.

  Mrs Calder takes a step closer, and I stand up, shielding Bertie with my body.

  ‘I mean it, Mrs Calder. Don’t come any closer. If you touch Bertie, I’ll kill you.’

  Agnes gives her head a little shake. ‘Come along Bertie,’ she says, in a weirdly bright voice. ‘Time to go.’ She takes something from her blouse pocket.

  It’s a syringe.

  I feel Bertie grip my leg.

  ‘Stay back,’ I say.

  ‘Come along Bertie.’ I see blunt fingernails and the sharp needle of the syringe coming towards us.

  ‘STAY BACK!’ I shout.

  Mrs Calder comes closer. Then she lunges.

  I grab her wrists and hold her back. The sedative has made me a lot slower and weaker than usual though, and it’s a struggle.

  ‘Bertie, get out of here!’ I shout, but he clings to my leg.

  I wrestle with Mrs Calder’s wrists, trying to hold back the syringe, which I’m guessing is full of sedative, or worse.

  My free hand scrabbles around, searching desperately for something I could use to defend us. My fingers clench around a stack of books and I try to throw them at Mrs Calder, but I’m too weak. They drop on her foot instead.

  She leaps back and the needle drops to the floor.

  I lunge for it, and Mrs Calder does too. We scrabble around on the floor, the syringe leaping around between our hands.

  ‘Stay back Bertie!’ I shout.

  The syringe rolls away from me, and Mrs Calder’s hand darts out to grab it. But before she can, Bertie wraps his pale little fingers around it.

  He plunges the syringe into Mrs Calder’s neck and pushes down the plunger.

  ‘Oh my god.’ I cover my mouth.

  Mrs Calder’s eyes roll backwards and she staggers back.

  Then she crumples to the floor, a big dead weight.

  I step closer to check that Mrs Calder is truly out for the count.

  She’s still breathing, but her eyes are closed. I don’t think she’ll be waking up for a while.

  I turn to Bertie. ‘I shouldn’t say this, but … well done.’

  He gives me a little smile.

  I grab Bertie’s hand. ‘We need to get out of here. And we should lock the door behind us.’

  I pull Bertie out of the room and slam the door closed, locking it behind us. Tucking the key in my waistband, I squeeze Bertie’s hand.

  Bertie squeezes my hand back.

  ‘Thank you, Sera,’ Bertie says.

  89

  I swallow. Did he just …?

  Bertie gives me the tiniest of smiles.

  ‘Bertie … you just … did you just … you talked. You talked!’ I pick him up and hug him, spinning him around.

  Bertie buries his head against my shoulder.

  I grip him tighter.

  ‘What are you doing out of the car?’ says a loud, low voice, and I turn to see Patrick stalking towards us down the hallway.

  ‘Patrick,’ I breathe. ‘Oh thank god.’

  ‘You should have stayed where I put you,’ Patrick says.

  ‘I just couldn’t sit there, doing nothing,’ I say. ‘I had to help Bertie. I just had to.’

  Patrick sighs. ‘I would have found him.’

  ‘Not before Agnes Calder did,’ I say.

  ‘Yes,’ says Patrick. ‘I would have done. I was tracking her this whole time. How do you think I found you up here?’

  ‘She’s in there,’ I say, pointing a thumb towards the door. ‘We locked her in. After Bertie pushed a syringe into her neck.’

  Patrick frowns, and for a moment I think he’s going to get angry again. But then he laughs, a long, low laugh.

  ‘So you really can take care of yourself.’

  ‘Sometimes,’ I say. ‘But I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you.’

  Patrick takes Bertie and me to the drawing room, where he checks all the window locks and prowls around by the door.

  ‘Sit down both of you,’ he instructs, pointing to a sofa. ‘I’m going to make some calls.’

  ‘Come on, Bertie,’ I say, taking a seat. ‘Come sit here, next to me.’

  Bertie climbs on the sofa beside me.

  ‘You must have been so frightened,’ I say, taking his hand. ‘I’m so sorry I didn’t find you earlier.’

  Bertie glances up at the picture of his grandfather, over the fireplace. Then he looks at his lap.

  I feel tears come to my eyes. ‘I know granddad hurt you,’ I say. ‘And I know why. I’m so sorry. Bertie, we’re going to keep you safe, okay? We’re going to make sure your granddad never hurts you again. And that your mother can see you more often.’

  Bertie nods.

  90

  Half an hour later, the castle is swarming with police and ex-army friends of Patrick’s.

  After they’ve taken Mrs Calder away, they man the entrances to the castle and give the building a thorough search, in case anyone else is lurking around.

  A team go into the village to track down Margaret Calder, and we learn that she’s been arrested.

  Police are sent into the woods too, to take away Hawk’s body and collect evidence.

  Bertie and I wait in the drawing room while all this is going on.

  Patrick guards the door, pacing back and forth.

  After a few hours, Bertie lets out a long yawn and leans against my hip.

  ‘You look pretty tired,’ I tell him. ‘I guess I should put you to bed.’

  Bertie nods and pulls at my hand.

  We stand and head towards the door.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ says Patrick.

  ‘To put Bertie to bed.’

  ‘Not by yourself you’re not. I’m not letting you out of my sight.’

  Patrick escorts us down the hallway and to Bertie’s bedroom, where I see one of Patrick’s army friends, dressed in a black sweatshirt and combats, guarding the door.

  ‘An extra precaution,’ says Patrick, nodding at the man and opening Bertie’s bedroom door for us. ‘To help Bertie feel safe.’

  I lead Bertie into the room.

  ‘Sleep well little man,’ says Patrick. ‘I’ll wait outside.’

  I help Bertie use the bathroom, dress him in pyjamas and settle him under his bedclothes.

  As I tuck Bertie up in bed, he reaches for the horror books on his bedside table. ‘Don’t want these now,’ he tells me.

  I smile. ‘It’s so good to hear you talk,’ I say. ‘And I never liked you having those books anyway. I guess they’ve served their purpose. So. How about Just William?’

  91

  After I’ve read Bertie his story and watched him fall asleep, I creep out of his bedroom.

  I find Patrick talking in hushed tones to his army friend.

  ‘ … all night … yes … better safe than sorry …’

  When Patrick sees me, he fixes me with those powerful, icy blue-green eyes.

  ‘How is he?’

  ‘Asleep,’ I say.

  ‘Really?’

  I nod.

  ‘You must have a pretty calming effect on him.’

  ‘I think he’s just tired out. It’s been a long day. For all of us.’

  ‘Your day isn’t over yet,’ says Patrick, taking my hand. ‘There’s a doctor here.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘You were given some pretty powerful knock out drugs, Seraphina. And a sedative on to
p of that. It makes sense to get checked.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Finally. You’re learning to do as you’re told.’

  I laugh.

  The warmth of his arm against mine feels good, after this long, weird, strange day.

  ‘After the doctor, I’ll take you to my room,’ says Patrick. ‘You can sleep there. Where I can keep an eye on you.’

  ‘Patrick—’

  ‘It’s okay.’ Patrick holds up his hand. ‘I won’t lay a finger on you. You have my word. I just want you to feel safe, that’s all. You shouldn’t sleep alone tonight.’

  ‘Patrick, what’s going to happen now?’ I say. ‘With Bertie. And his grandfather. Will Dirk be prosecuted?’

  ‘We’re working on that,’ says Patrick. ‘A team has gone to my father’s house to collect evidence. I won’t let him get away with this. He’s been abusing his power for far too long. But to hurt a child … and what he did with Margaret Calder … Seraphina, believe me, if I’d have known …’

  ‘I know,’ I say, snuggling against his warmth. ‘I know you’d never have let it happen. Or your father go unpunished. What about Bertie’s mother?’

  ‘She’s safe.’

  ‘She needs to be more than safe,’ I say. ‘She needs to be part of Bertie’s life. If your father is prosecuted and sent to prison, that can happen. Can’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ says Patrick. ‘He’ll be out of Anise’s life.’

  ‘Bertie needs his mother.’

  ‘Agreed,’ says Patrick. ‘I’ll arrange for her to come over tomorrow. Is there something else you want to tell me?’

  ‘Tell me?’

  ‘About the West Tower.’ Patrick’s lips curve into a smile. ‘And about being a typical nosy woman.’

  I laugh. ‘A typical nosy woman am I? Because I went looking for Bertie?’

  ‘And what did you find when you went looking for Bertie?’

  ‘Your grandmother,’ I say. ‘The one everyone said was dead.’

  ‘I couldn’t tell you about her,’ says Patrick. ‘I had to protect you. If you knew and my father found out …’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I say. ‘I understand. Family secrets and all of that. Are there any more I should know about?’

  ‘Hundreds,’ says Patrick, pulling me into his arms.

  I see the doctor in the drawing room, and he gives me the all clear within minutes.

  ‘You were lucky, young lady,’ he says. ‘Your poisoner knew what she was doing.’

  ‘Yes,’ I agree. ‘That wouldn’t surprise me.’

  The moment the doctor leaves, Patrick strides into the room. ‘Well?’

  ‘He says I’m fine.’

  Patrick pulls me into his arms. ‘Thank god for that. Right. Come with me. It’s time for you to get some sleep.’

  92

  When we reach Patrick’s bedroom, I hesitate at the door.

  ‘Patrick—’

  ‘If you’re going to try and argue about spending the night here, Seraphina, you picked the wrong day,’ says Patrick, putting a hand to my cheek. ‘Because I’m not taking no for an answer.’

  ‘No,’ I say, covering his hand with mine. ‘I wasn’t going to … it wasn’t that. I was just going to say …’

  ‘What?’ Patrick raises an eyebrow.

  I blush bright red. ‘I just … you’re the first man who’s ever made me feel so safe. And …’

  And I love you …

  But I can’t get the words out.

  My heart pounds as Patrick pushes open the bedroom door, and I feel a bright red blush spreading over my freckly nose.

  ‘You’re blushing,’ says Patrick, leading me to the bed and pulling my sweater over my head. ‘Why is that, I wonder?’ He raises a mischievous eyebrow.

  ‘You know why,’ I stammer, looking at my hands. ‘Because there’s something I want to say to you. But I can’t get the words out.’

  ‘I can wait.’ Patrick kisses me softly, pressing his lips against mine until I let out a little murmur.

  He pulls my leggings free and flings off my socks.

  ‘Glad to see you’re still wearing my lucky underwear,’ he says, pushing back the duvet and laying me under it. ‘Maybe it saved your life today.’

  I laugh. ‘It was you who did that.’

  ‘Rest sleeping beauty.’ He leans forwards. ‘And for the record, I love you too.’

  I stare at him, a silly smile growing on my face. ‘You said that before, but … do you really mean it?’

  ‘Of course I do. I already told you. I can’t live without you.’

  ‘Patrick I …’ I shake my head, trying to form the words but still unable to.

  ‘It’s okay, Seraphina,’ says Patrick. ‘You don’t need to say it back. I can wait.’

  I feel myself blushing again and stare down at the duvet.

  Patrick uses his fingers to tilt my chin up at him. ‘I know you feel the same way.’

  I laugh. ‘Oh, so arrogant.’

  ‘No. I can just read you very well.’

  I lie back against the pillow, and feel softness and warmth all around.

  Patrick walks around the bed and strips his shirt and trousers off, then slides under the duvet beside me.

  God – the warmth of his body and the beautiful way he smells …

  I roll into Patrick, and he brings his arms around me and folds me against his chest.

  As I drift off to sleep, I hear Patrick say, ‘I love you, Seraphina Harper.’

  93

  When I wake up the next morning, Patrick is watching me. He’s lying with his elbow propped on the pillow, thick brown eyebrows pulled into a frown.

  I see the scar on his cheek through his light brown stubble, and the other scar on his eyebrow. His blond hair falls around his ears and over his forehead.

  He looks beautiful, but angry.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.

  ‘I’m finding it hard to forgive myself,’ says Patrick.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For what happened to you yesterday.’

  ‘How could you have stopped it? Who’d have known Mrs Calder could be so crazy? I mean, I always knew she was mean, but I never thought …’ I feel a little sick as memories of yesterday begin to tumble around. ‘Never mind. It’s all over now.’

  ‘But it should never have happened.’ Patrick shakes his head, and his loose hair moves around his face. ‘I gave you my word that I’d keep you safe. And I failed. Just like I failed Jamie.’

  ‘Hey.’ I pull myself upright and put a hand on Patrick’s chest. I feel his heart beating against my hand. ‘What happened to Jamie wasn’t your fault. And what happened to me wasn’t your fault either. You saved me. And you tried to save Jamie too. You’re a good man, Patrick.’

  ‘Am I?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, you are.’

  ‘I don’t think I can ever forgive myself.’

  ‘What could you have done? You didn’t know what your father did. You’ve been trying to keep everyone safe.’

  ‘And failing.’

  ‘Patrick, you can’t think of things that way.’ I squeeze his shoulder. ‘Look at me, Patrick.’

  He looks up and hits me with those amazing, soulful eyes.

  ‘Let it go,’ I command.

  ‘I like how strong you are,’ says Patrick. ‘In fact, I love it.’

  I grin and roll on top of him, feeling him instantly grow hard against my stomach.

  Warmth prickles between my legs.

  I shuffle up so he drops between my thighs, and Patrick lets out a groan.

  ‘Maybe this isn’t the time,’ he says, his voice a little breathless. ‘After what happened yesterday—’

  ‘Are you turning me down, Patrick Mansfield?’

  ‘Trying to. But failing.’

  He slides my legs free of the tartan boxer shorts, and I climb out one leg at a time. Then he lifts me back onto his hips again, so I’m straddling him, his hardness pressing against my thighs.

  Patrick
puts the boxer shorts to his face and inhales. ‘I will never get tired of that smell.’ He flings the boxers to the floor. I hear the rip of a condom packet and he slides the rubber over himself before he places his hands back on my hips.

  I wiggle around until he’s pressing against me, and then let my hips sink down until he’s a little way inside of me.

  It’s as tight a fit as ever, so I go easy.

  Patrick closes his eyes and groans.

  I let out a long breath as I feel him pushing me open.

  Suddenly his hands clamp down hard on my hips. ‘Wait,’ he says. ‘Are you sure you want to do this now? Because I can wait. I can wait for as long as you need.’

  ‘I don’t need to wait,’ I say, a little out of breath, my skin feeling hot and tight. ‘I want you now.’

  Patrick groans again as I wiggle myself further down.

  Oh. Oh. God that feels good. Having him inside me, with my weight pressing down on him, is almost too much. But sort of good too much.

  Patrick begins to lift me up and down, slowly at first, sliding himself in and out of me.

  I close my eyes, let my head fall back and moan. ‘Patrick. Oh Patrick.’

  Then he moves me faster, pushing his hips up to meet mine.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ he growls.

  I let my eyes snap open and see Patrick watching me, his eyes just the tiniest bit fierce.

  ‘I want you looking at me when you come,’ he says, slamming his hips hard into me.

  ‘Oh,’ I moan, as he keeps pounding into me. ‘Oh Patrick. Oh god.’

  Patrick’s fingers clench my buttocks tight, pressing deep into my flesh. Then he moves a hand around so he’s stroking above my pussy, his thumb moving in firm circles until I’m absolutely wild with pleasure.

  ‘Patrick. Oh god Patrick. Oh god.’

  I moan and thrash around on top of him, trying to get him as deep inside me as I can, throwing my whole weight down on him as he thrusts his hips up to meet me.

  ‘Patrick.’ I lean my body forwards, my nose nearly touching his. ‘Oh god Patrick, that feels so good.’

  He thrusts deeper and deeper, his thumb still moving around and around.

  The angle feels so amazing. Patrick is pressing into places I’ve never felt before, and I moan and writhe against him, watching his serious, fierce eyes burn into mine as he pushes into me over and over again.