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Bed of Ice

Page 9

by Sk Quinn


  40

  When I reach the great hall, I’m half hoping Patrick will be there. But of course he isn’t. He’s a man of his word after all.

  I need him to tell me how wrong he was. That he shouldn’t have been so jealous. That he loves me.

  I realise I really don’t feel like eating. But still I go to the serving hatch like a robot.

  ‘What’s wrong hen?’ Vicky asks, pushing a plate of toad in the hole towards me. ‘Are you missing wee Bertie?’

  I shake my head, feeling guilty. I do miss Bertie, but I’ve been so wrapped up in thoughts of Patrick that I hadn’t thought about him since I got back to the castle.

  ‘Yes,’ I say. ‘But right now I’m thinking about a stupid row Patrick and I just had.’

  ‘Lover’s tiff?’

  ‘More than that.’ I look down at the plate of sausages in batter, covered in onion gravy.

  ‘Surely not?’

  ‘He was jealous just now. I’ve never seen that side of him before.’ I laugh, but there’s no joy in it. ‘Be careful what you wish for.’

  ‘You wanted him to be jealous?’

  ‘Not exactly. But I feel jealous when I think of the women he’s been with. And I always wanted him to … you know, sort of feel the same. About my old boyfriends. That way I’d know he cared as much as I did.’

  ‘So what made him jealous?’

  ‘One of his best friends has come to stay. And …’

  Vicky’s eyes widen. ‘Grey’s here?’

  ‘Do you know him?’

  ‘You could say that.’ Vicky’s voice goes all soft and breathless.

  ‘Vicky.’

  She goes red.

  I laugh then. A real laugh. ‘Come on. Tell me. Do you fancy him or something?’

  Vicky fiddles with the cuff of her chef’s whites.

  ‘You do, don’t you?’

  ‘I like him,’ she mumbles. ‘I mean he is a bit amazing.’

  The way she says that last word and stares off into the distance …

  ‘Vicky! You haven’t …’

  Vicky doesn’t meet my eye.

  ‘Have you and Grey … ’

  Vicky’s face goes even redder.

  ‘Okay, okay.’ I hold my hands up. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t want to put you on the spot.’

  Vicky pats her cheeks. ‘It was a while ago now. Please don’t tell anyone.’

  ‘Course not.’

  ‘I was still with Joseph.’

  ‘Your boyfriend?’

  Vicky nods.

  ‘Are you seeing Grey as well or something?’

  ‘No. But I’ve never quite let go of the time I had with him.’

  ‘Does your boyfriend know?’

  ‘It was a stupid, drunken one-night stand and he knows nothing about it. Even now, I can’t believe it happened. I’m not that girl. I’m not a cheat. But Grey has a way of making you feel like the only girl in the world. Really special.’

  ‘Patrick said he had a way with women …’

  Vicky sighs. ‘If I thought Grey felt anything for me I’d leave Joseph in an instant. But … my heart tells me he doesn’t. I was just a one-night thing for him. A challenge. A game he won. He probably doesn’t even know my name. But that night with him … it was … I’ve never had better.’

  ‘Wow.’ I can’t help but grin. ‘That’s some review.’

  ‘It’s stupid. I fell for the lines of a charmer, ended up in bed with him and then totally fell in love. But like I say, he probably doesn’t even remember my name.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘No. I’m not sure. But that’s what they do isn’t it? Charmers. They make you feel like you’re special. Like it could be something more. But the truth is you’re one of hundreds.’

  ‘Maybe you’re best off rid of him,’ I say. ‘If that’s how he is.’

  ‘He’s a good guy. He just likes women a little bit too much. And ends up leaving tattered hearts wherever he goes.’

  ‘Funny. Patrick said something similar.’

  Vicky nods. ‘Our Mr Mansfield has a wise head on young shoulders.’

  ‘He forbid Grey from having lunch here,’ I say. ‘He didn’t want me near him. He was that jealous.’

  ‘Oh.’ Vicky frowns. ‘Grey’s not meeting someone in the village for lunch then? A girl or something.’

  ‘That’s not the reason. He went into the village because Patrick asked him to.’

  But even as I’m saying those words, I’m wondering if they’re the right ones to say. After all, it doesn’t sound like Grey is good news for women. But I guess all I can do is tell Vicky the truth. What she chooses to do with it is up to her.

  Vicky lays her hand over mine. ‘So our Lord Mansfield has warned Grey off you? That’ll make you even more of a challenge.’

  ‘He’s Patrick’s best friend. He wouldn’t try anything would he?’

  ‘Maybe. Grey likes a challenge. The bigger the challenge the harder he’ll try.’

  41

  I don’t manage much of my lunch. I apologise to Vicky before I leave, but she waves me away with an ‘och, it’s fine.’

  As I wander out of the great hall and head towards the West Wing, I really want to go into Patrick’s bedroom. I wish I could just rub out everything he said earlier and throw myself into his arms. But I can’t.

  Of course he might not even be in his bedroom. But I could wait for him there. Sit on his bedclothes with the smell of his gorgeous warm body, and … NO SERAPHINA!

  Thinking like that will get me no place good. No more thoughts of Patrick’s sexy body. Not until he realises what a jealous control freak he was being earlier.

  Will he realise? a nagging voice asks. What if he doesn’t? What if this is what he’s like deep down? A man who wants to be in charge of me, even when he’s wrong?

  I mean I always knew he was sexist. But it was kind of funny until now. I didn’t really think that, deep down, he wanted to control me. I thought he was kind of teasing.

  I walk down corridors, more confused than ever. If he really is one of those crazy controlling men, why in the world would he pick me? Why not pick some girl who’ll do what he tells her?

  I think of what Vicky said. About Grey. He likes a challenge.

  Am I just more of a challenge to Patrick than the other girls?

  God I don’t know.

  Tears form under my eyelashes and I let them spill onto my cheeks.

  I sniff and walk purposely to my bedroom.

  There’s nothing I can do but wait. Wait and hope Patrick sees sense. I can’t go to him. I just have to pray he sees reason.

  When I reach my old bedroom, I’m lost in self-pity and pain. So lost that at first I don’t notice what’s different.

  When I do, I put a hand to my mouth.

  Then I burst into fresh tears.

  42

  The clothes I left in Patrick’s bedroom this morning …

  They’ve been carefully folded over a chair. My cowboy boots sit underneath.

  Patrick must have had them moved here. Maybe he even put them here himself.

  I feel my stomach clench at the thought of him prowling around this room.

  The tears keep falling.

  He couldn’t send out a clearer message that he’s not going to apologise. And he can’t be all that bothered about whether I’m with him tonight after all.

  I throw myself onto the soft bed and sob into the bedclothes.

  God I feel pathetic. Totally, stupidly pathetic. Partly for crying but mainly for believing in fairy tales. Why did I ever believe that a man like Patrick Mansfield could care less about a girl like me? That there wouldn’t be a catch somewhere?

  He does care, says a voice. You know he does. But if he’s just a sexist moron who wants you to do as you’re told, then forget it.

  I spend most of the afternoon staring up at the high bedroom ceiling, lost in thought.

  I call Wila and Bertie, but Anise doesn’t answer her phon
e and nor does Wila. I guess she’s in class.

  At dinnertime, Rab knocks on the door with a tray of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding.

  ‘Young Vicky thought you might like supper alone,’ says Rab, his blue eyes soft and caring. ‘But if you want me to bring it back down to the great hall –’

  ‘No. Thanks.’ I take the tray. ‘She’s right. I would prefer to eat alone tonight. Have you been with Patrick?’

  Rab nods. ‘We’ve been talking security.’

  ‘Did he … mention me?’ I can’t help asking.

  ‘Not as such,’ says Rab kindly. ‘But I’m sure he was thinking of you.’

  ‘Oh. Well. Thanks.’

  I take the meal. When Rab leaves I eat on my bed.

  Then I fall into a restless sleep.

  43

  When I wake up, it’s pitch dark outside.

  What is that noise?

  I sit bolt upright and listen.

  There’s a screeching sound outside my window.

  It’s really high-pitched and desperate, like a baby bird caught in something.

  I feel myself shiver, even though it isn’t cold.

  As I go to the window, I realise the noise is coming from the east side of the castle. Which means I’m pretty sure I know what it is.

  Dan Dan.

  I leap off the bed and head to the door.

  The screeching grows louder and more desperate, until it turns into little yelps.

  I’m running now, out the door, down the stairs, along corridors and out the huge front door into the chilly night.

  The sky is clear and I see a billion bright stars overhead as I race to Dan Dan’s kennel.

  The moon shines bright on the lawns.

  By the time I’ve reached the kennels, the yelping becomes a heartbreaking howl.

  I pull open the door and see Dan Dan hunched into a grey ball in the corner, wailing his little head off.

  ‘Dan Dan,’ I whisper, as the little ball shakes in the moonlight.

  He lifts his head to glance at me, and I see little black eyes flecked with silver.

  I go onto my knees and crawl towards him.

  He barks loudly, baring his teeth.

  ‘It’s just me,’ I whisper.

  Dan Dan stops barking and whimpers a little. Then he makes a happy chirruping sound.

  I remember Patrick’s words. About him being a wild animal. And of course Patrick is right, but … he’s still just a baby.

  I make a decision. There’s no way I’m leaving him out here, whimpering and alone. I don’t care what Patrick says. I’m bringing him into the castle.

  I grab Dan Dan’s furry little body.

  He wriggles and screeches, but after a few seconds he settles in my arms.

  ‘Shuuussh,’ I say, swaying him back and forth.

  He stops wiggling and tucks his head against my chest, letting out a low whine. After a few more sways, he stops whimpering and his eyes begin to close.

  I walk towards the castle, not looking up at any windows. I don’t care if Patrick is watching. I’m not leaving this little fox alone all night.

  When I get to the door, I juggle Dan Dan around, trying to get a free hand on the handle.

  Just as I clamp my hand on the metal I hear something.

  Gravel crunching.

  I whirl around and see a red soft-top Lamborghini skid to a halt a few feet away.

  That’s definitely not Patrick’s car. And he’d never drive like that either. Which means …

  Grey.

  44

  Grey throws open the car door and swaggers towards me.

  I have to admit he’s very good looking. Tall and muscular with cut cheekbones, a gleaming clean-shaven face and perfect square jaw. His hair is neat. Not too short, but long on top and clipped at the sides.

  Grey’s lips pull into a broad smile when he sees me and his teeth twinkle under the moonlight.

  ‘Well, well, well,’ says Grey. ‘Fancy seeing you here?’ He glances down at Dan Dan. ‘What’s with the wildlife?’

  ‘He was crying outside,’ I say, straightening. ‘I was just … can you help me open this door?’

  ‘My pleasure,’ says Grey, his hand finding mine on the door handle. He pushes down gently, his strong fingers wrapping around my skin, and the door opens.

  I can’t help noticing how neat and clean his fingernails are. All white and clipped.

  He smells like expensive aftershave and he’s wearing a fitted blazer over jeans. He kind of looks like a rich boy rugby player.

  ‘After you, madam,’ says Grey, with an exaggerated bow.

  He slides his hand up the door so I have to duck under his arm to get inside.

  ‘Aren’t you going to tell me off for bringing a fox inside?’ I say, stepping into the hallway.

  Grey shrugs. ‘What you do with the wildlife round here is your business. Does Patrick know you’re bringing the little fellow into the castle?’

  ‘No. Well, maybe he does. He knows everything doesn’t he? But he told me not to. He told me to leave him outside.’

  Grey laughs. ‘He does know a lot, I’ll give you that. But I’m not sure Patrick knows everything just yet. He told you not to bring the fox inside?’

  I nod.

  ‘But you’re doing it anyway?’

  I nod again.

  ‘Well this is good to see,’ says Grey, letting the door close softly. ‘Someone who doesn’t do what Patrick tells them. Even I’m scared of him sometimes.’ He fixes me with pure blue eyes that seem to laugh with me – like we’ve just shared a joke. ‘But not you. Why not?’

  I shrug. ‘I’m just … not. I mean, not of him. I’m scared of …’ I look away.

  ‘Scared of …?’ Grey asks.

  ‘Losing him.’ I look down at Dan Dan, whose furry body is rising and falling in my arms.

  ‘Have you and Patrick been together long?’ Grey asks.

  He really does have nice eyes. Really caring. But suddenly I remember what Patrick said. And Vicky. He has a way with women. I stiffen.

  ‘Long enough,’ I say, haughtily.

  ‘You don’t need to get all prim and proper with me. I’ve known Patrick a long time myself. I can see he’s smitten. I was just wondering, that’s all. Hey.’ He puts a hand on my arm. ‘Relax, okay? I’m a friend, not the enemy. One of Patrick’s oldest friends as a matter of fact. I care about the guy. So anyone he cares about, I care about too. Although I have to tell you he’s been acting like an idiot today. Kicking me out of the castle this afternoon. I think he’s worried I’m going to try and get into your pants.’

  ‘He’s a little jealous,’ I admit.

  ‘He has every reason to be,’ says Grey. ‘You’re a beautiful girl. Smart. Strong. Interesting.’ He’s still holding my eyes. ‘You stand out. There’s something … fiery about you.’

  ‘I need to get Dan Dan up to my room,’ I mumble, heading towards the staircase.

  ‘Dan Dan?’ Grey says. ‘Oh that’s right. I forgot that you named the little beast. Good for you. And why may I ask doesn’t Patrick want him in the castle?’

  He follows me to the staircase.

  ‘He says he’s a wild animal,’ I say. ‘And that he belongs outside.’

  ‘Well Patrick should know all about wild animals,’ says Grey, holding the handrail. ‘I’ve always suspected that he’s part wolf.’

  I laugh. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Let me escort you to your bedroom.’

  ‘No. Really. It’s—’

  ‘I insist. I’m not having a young lady walking around this dark castle alone late at night.’

  ‘But I—’

  ‘No buts. I’m walking you to your bedroom.’

  ‘No offence, but I’d really rather you didn’t. I don’t think Patrick would be happy about it. He … earlier on he insisted … oh never mind.’

  Grey raises an eyebrow. ‘What?’

  ‘I just … don’t think he’ll be happy about it. That’s all.’

/>   ‘And you care that much what Patrick thinks?’

  I hold Dan Dan tighter. ‘No. But … it just doesn’t seem like a good idea.’

  ‘According to whom? You or Patrick.’

  ‘Me,’ I say, but as I say it I realise it’s not true. I’m thinking of Patrick. I’d actually quite like Grey to walk me to my room. The castle is spooky in the dark, and I don’t want to get lost with Dan Dan in my arms.

  ‘Really?’ Grey leans closer. He has a very cute smile.

  ‘Oh okay. Fine. Walk me to my room then.’

  ‘I would be honoured m’lady,’ says Grey, with another exaggerated bow. ‘This way.’ He puts a hand on my elbow and walks me up the stairs.

  45

  ‘You know, you’re very beautiful,’ says Grey, as we reach my bedroom door. ‘If Patrick weren’t my best friend I’d definitely have to try something.’

  I laugh. ‘You could try all you like. Nothing would happen.’

  Grey slaps a hand to his heart. ‘Oh! So cruel. Really? Nothing?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Why? Am I ugly?’ Grey puts a knuckle to his lips and fixes me with smouldering eyes.

  I laugh again. ‘No.’

  ‘Didn’t think so. But you never know.’

  ‘Goodnight Grey,’ I say, opening my bedroom door.

  ‘Hey, hey. Wait a minute. You can’t tell me you don’t want me and then leave me hanging. I need to know why.’

  ‘You know why. Because I’m in love with Patrick.’

  Grey’s smile grows. ‘Ah I see. So if you weren’t with Patrick I could come in and say goodnight properly?’

  ‘No you could not,’ I say.

  ‘Seraphina, Seraphina. You’re breaking my heart.’ Grey puts a hand to his chest again and staggers back. ‘So cruel. So wounding. But I need more feedback. What’s wrong with me? Wait, wait. I get it. I don’t have a title right? You only want a lord.’

  ‘No! Don’t be stupid. That’s not it.’

  ‘So what is it?’

  ‘You’re just not my type.’

  ‘I can be any type you want me to be.’

  I shake my head, still laughing. ‘Grey, this is a stupid conversation.’

  ‘No it isn’t. What if you split up with Patrick one day? I need to know how to win you over.’

 

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