The Ice Seduction (Ice Romance) (15 page)

46

I spend the rest of the day wandering around the grounds and woodlands, and exploring the castle.

Anything to take my mind off Patrick and what happened this morning.

There are so many locke
d doors, I wonder what’s behind them all. And another thought creeps into my mind too. Where does Patrick sleep?

Does he
stay in the castle overnight? I guess he must do.

Stop it Sera, w
hy should you care?

But I do care. I rea
lly do. Much as I try to shake away thoughts of Patrick, he is well and truly in my mind. And my body.

What happened this morning – I still can barely believe it. If it wasn’t for the tight soreness between my legs and the loose, light feeling in my body, I would think it was all a dream.

After supper, a snowstorm blows up
and it’s too windy and cold to go outside. Bertie still isn’t back, so I explore further into the castle, going into the South Wing, which Vicky tells me is being developed for guests.

It’s kind of okay, the south part. Clearly someone has spent some money on fixing it
up, but it still looks gloomy. And it has a lonely feeling. I guess that’s because it’s empty.

Down one of the corridors I smell chlorine and find a gorgeous bright blue swimming po
ol behind oak double doors.

I hear a noise – a manly, puffing, gr
unting sound coming from the room behind the swimming pool.

Who’s here?

My curiosity gets the better of me.

I creep a little closer, and
see gym equipment through an open door.

Then my
heart stops.

Oh holy Jesus.

It’s Patrick.

He must have come back while I was eating supper.

Patrick is lying on his back, lifting a heavy barbell up and down.

He’s wearing no shirt, only loos
e grey cotton tracksuit bottoms and his hard, firm muscles are tensed as he lifts and drops.

I notice that tattoo again – the eagle
on his collarbone, just above his chest.

I begin to panic. I hadn’
t expected this. I hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.

God, if he sees me …

I mean to turn away, but the sight of him lifting and dropping those weights – for a moment I’m just mesmerized.

The way he makes it look so effortless
… the determination on his face … the fact that I can tell, even though I don’t know much about his time in the Olympics, that he’s a champion.

Why does the idea of h
im and me together scare me so much? Because it does. The fact that he’s so masterful and in charge. The fact that he’s a leader. It both turns me on and scares the shit out of me.

I watch for a moment longer as he puffs the
bar up and down, his beautifully muscular arms tightening and releasing with each stroke. Then I know I have to leave. Before he sees me.

As I back away, a
part of me hates to go. I could watch him all night, truly I could. But I have to be strong. And anyway, Bertie could be back by now.

That tho
ught makes my feet start moving and I hurry away, back to Bertie’s bedroom.

47

When I reach Bertie’s room, he’s in there playing Xbox with Daphne.

She’s laughing and swaying
around as she moves her controller. They’re playing football, but I don’t have to worry about Bertie losing and throwing a tantrum – Daphne is barely able to move her team around, let alone score goals.

‘Hi,’ I say gently. I don’t want to interrupt – it’s good to see Bertie with his grandma. But at the same time, I’m being paid to do a job, and I want to make sure that
Daphne knows I’m here if she needs me.

‘Seraphina!’
Daphne looks away from the TV screen. ‘We’ve had a delightful day. Bertie did something he’s never done before. He took me to a bookshop.’

‘He did?’

‘Oh yes. And he knew exactly what he wanted to buy.
Just William
.’ Her eyes are shining. ‘Jamie used to love those stories.’

Should I tell her
about finding the room with Jamie’s things in it? I think she’d probably understand, but … I don’t want to cause her any pain.

‘That’s wonderful,’ I say.

‘Bertie didn’t want me to read it to him, though,’ says Daphne, with a little frown. ‘Just to put it by his bedside.’

I notice a sparkling new copy of
Just William
resting on Bertie’s collection of horror tales.

‘Maybe I can read it to him,’ I say. ‘It must be nearly his bedtime. Has he had his supper?’

‘Oh yes,’ says Daphne. ‘More liquorice and milk, just like always. And he’s brushed his teeth. He’s all ready.’

‘Then I guess I’ll read it when you’ve finished that game.’

Bertie’s head springs away from the TV, and he follows my gaze to the new
Just William
book. Then he gets up and snaps off the television.

‘Well!’
Daphne smiles. ‘I guess we know what Bertie would like. Wonderful. Bertie. You have a story with Seraphina. Grandma has to go now, anyway. But I’ll be back soon. Okay, my lovely little man? And of course, your mama will be coming to visit tomorrow. Very early. More family for you!’

She goes to kiss him, but he pulls
back and she ruffles his hair instead.

‘Ah, my
beautiful little boy.’

She gets up and comes to me, and to my surpris
e kisses me on both cheeks. ‘So good to meet you today, Seraphina. I hope to see you again soon. For my sake as well as Bertie’s. This castle needs a little lightness and that’s exactly what you bring. Well. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight
,’ I say smiling. ‘Oh. Wait. Ms Cote—’

‘Call me
Daphne.’

I smile more widely. ‘
Daphne. I … do you know where Bertie got all those other books? The horror ones? I … I guess I was just wondering. I don’t know if he reads them, or …’

‘Or they’re just for show,’
Daphne finishes. ‘Yes. I’ve often wondered. I know he has a tutor, but they’re still very difficult books for his age. I can’t imagine that he’d understand them all that well. And yet … I’ve seen him with them. Holding them, turning the pages …’

‘And do you know where he got them?’

Daphne shakes her head. ‘Truly, I have no idea.’ She frowns. ‘I don’t like him having them. They’re nasty books. I’d take them away from him if I could, but I’ve seen Margaret Calder try, and Bertie smashed up everything in sight.’

‘Mmm.’ I tap my lip with my finger. ‘Did he … I mean, did they come to the castle with him?’

‘Oh yes,’ says Daphne. ‘He didn’t get them here. No, they were in the little brown suitcase he brought with him.’

‘And where was he before he came here?’

‘In a boarding nursery near his mother.’

‘And before that?’

‘With his grandfather. And before that Jamie and his girlfriend. Jamie is my other son. The younger one.’ Her eyes drop, and she whispers, ‘But he passed away.’

‘I heard
,’ I say. ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Yes,’ says
Daphne softly. ‘I’ll never truly get over it. Nor will Patrick. Or any of us. But he was very much loved.’

God, the poor woman. To lose a
son … I mean, there are no words. I know if anything happened to Wila, I’d just die. And she’s not even my daughter.

My hand reaches out to touch her shoulder, and she grasps my fingers in hers,
pressing them against her arm.

Tears appear
in her soft brown eyes.

We both nod a
t each other for a moment, knowing words won’t do. I can’t possibly feel her pain. But I can let her know I care.

Daphne
reaches up and strokes hair from my face. ‘I’m glad you came here, Seraphina.’

I end up reading Bertie the whole
Just William
book again. After every story he wants another, and I’m happy to read for as long as he wants.

When I put the book down
and turn out the light, Bertie looks up at me with a soft, happy face that makes my heart leap.

I pull the duvet
over him, but his little hand reaches out and grabs my arm.

‘Do you want a bedtime cuddle?’ I ask him.

Bertie nods, and I lean over the bed and give him a big hug and a kiss.

‘Night, night little soldier,’ I say. ‘Sweet dreams. I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?’

Bertie smiles and nods his head.

48

The next day, I wake early and go to Bertie’s room. But he’s not there.

For a moment, I panic. Has he run away or something? Then I remember that
his mother is supposed to be visiting today. Early, Daphne said. Maybe she’s here already.

I head down to the great hall, and find Bertie already si
tting at one of the long tables.

B
eside him sits a pretty, very thin blonde girl with bright white skin.

She’s wearing a sort of posh college-gir
l outfit of spotless tight-white jeans, a tucked in blouse and a loose chiffon scarf around her neck.

I guess she
must be Bertie’s mother, but she looks young and absolutely terrified of him. She and Bertie are sitting a good foot apart, and she’s watching him like he’s some sort of poisonous spider.

When I come into the hal
l, she jumps and throws her hand to her chest.

‘Oh! Hello,
’ she says.

‘Hi,’ I say with a smile. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.’

‘No, no.’ The girl shakes her head. ‘It’s okay. It’s me, not you. I’m just the jumpy kind. I’m always anxious.’

‘You must be Bert
ie’s mum,’ I say, reaching out my hand.

‘Yes,’ says the girl with a timid
smile. She shakes my hand. ‘Anise. And I know who you are. The new nanny. Right?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Good to meet you. Patrick has told me good things. And since you arrived Bertie seems … calmer. I think it must be down to you. I hope you end up staying.’

‘Oh, I will if I can,’ I say, throwing a glance at Bertie.
‘It’s good to meet you too, Anise. What do you have planned for Bertie today?’

Anise’s eyes widen
. ‘I’m not sure. I never know. I mean … it’s just so difficult.’ She sighs. ‘I just don’t know what I’m doing. My father’s right. I’m a terrible mother.’

‘No one knows what they’re doing with children at first,’ I reassure her. ‘It takes practice. I remember my first
nanny job. I didn’t know up from down. Luckily I had a wonderful agent who gave me advice.’

‘I have my father for advice
,’ says Anise, with a weak smile. ‘But he’s not exactly the supportive type. He’s never quite forgiven me for having Bertie so young.’

‘What about your mother?’ I ask. ‘I met her yesterday – she seemed lovely.’

‘You mean Daphne?’ says Anise. ‘She’s not my mother.’

‘Oh?
’

‘My real mother died. A long time ago.’

‘Oh I’m so sorry,’ I say.

‘It’s okay,’ says Anise. ‘
Daphne has always been amazing to me. The way she cares for Bertie … She and my father split up before I was born. Which I guess is the trouble. I don’t remember being mothered, so I have no idea what to do.’

‘It’s not hard to learn,’ I say brightly. ‘Just keep practi
sing.’

Anise smiles at me. ‘I never get much of a chance. I’m at college most
of the time. My father would kill me if I spent any more time with Bertie – my course is suffering enough already.’

I frown. ‘That’s … a shame.’

Anise nods. ‘I know. But … if you ever met my father, you’d understand why I do as he says. He’s a hard man to argue with.’

‘Why don’t you take Bertie out around the grounds today?’ I suggest. ‘Young boys love walking in the woods.’

‘Oh no,’ says Anise. ‘I couldn’t do that. Mrs Calder forbids it.’

‘She doesn’t have to know,’ I say, with a smile, and a wink at Bertie.

‘I just … no. I wouldn’t know what to do in the woods,’ says Anise. ‘I think we’ll just do what we usually do. Sit and play Xbox in his room.’

Bertie frowns.

‘Would you like me to stay with you too?’ I ask, thinking that if I hang around, I’m sure I can convince her to take Bertie outside. He needs fresh air.

‘No, it’s fine,’ says Anise.
‘Mrs Calder was … she said it would be best if Bertie and I spent time together alone. She … wasn’t very kind about you. But don’t worry. I didn’t pay any attention to that. I can tell Bertie likes you.’ She gives me a little smile. ‘So I want you to stay, even if she doesn’t.’

‘I’m glad about that,’ I say, thinking,
wow, another day twiddling my thumbs, trying to avoid Patrick … and how on earth am I going to get Bertie to eat anything if I never spend any time with him?