Cast in Ice

by Laura Landon

  “Thank you, but I prefer to keep it on.” Winnie knew she needed a show of strength if she had any chance of surviving this interview. Her bravery, however, didn’t last long.

  “Do as you’re told,” Willard said, his voice low, his tone threatening. “Take the mask off.”

  Winnie slowly lifted her hand and removed her mask. Her attempt to keep her hands from shaking was futile. Even though she tried to give the man the impression she wasn’t intimidated by his demands, she was.

  “Now, who are you?”

  Winnie lifted her chin and leveled him a stern look. “My name hardly matters. Why have you singled me out? I’ve done nothing to warrant such treatment.”

  “You don’t think so?” he asked, sitting back down behind his desk. “What is the total of your winnings tonight?”

  “Would you like to count it?” Winnie said. “I won it honestly.”

  The man she assumed was Harvey Willard leaned forward in his chair and anchored his forearms on the top of his oak desk. “Did you?” he asked.

  He pushed himself up from his chair and stepped out from behind the desk. He walked toward her until he stood directly beside her. Winnie had to lift her face in order to see him, which she did. She refused to cower in her chair like a frightened mouse. She refused to give him the upper hand.

  Willard took a threatening step toward her. “How did you do it?”

  Winnie didn’t have to feign surprise. Her shock was genuine. “Do what?”

  “Win that many hands in a row.”

  “You think I cheated?”

  “I know you cheated. No one has the luck you exhibited, unless they cheat.”

  “I assure you—”

  “Assure me all you want. I just want to know how you did it. Where do you have the cards hidden?”

  Winnie shook her head. “I haven’t hidden any cards.”

  Willard’s hands tightened into fists. “This will go much easier if you answer my question instead of playing ignorant.”

  “But I don’t—”

  Before Winnie could finish her sentence, Harvey Willard’s hand arced through the air and connected with her cheek.

  Pain shot through her head like an exploding cannonball, and a fireworks of bright lights erupted behind her eyes.

  “Where do you hide the cards?” he demanded again.

  Winnie shook her head. “I haven’t hidden—”

  Willard’s hand slammed into her cheek a second time.

  Before she could recover, the two men who’d forced her to follow Ellsworth up the stairs stepped beside her, one on each side. Strong hands grabbed her by the arms and pulled her to her feet.

  Her chair crashed to the floor behind her, and Willard’s hand reached for the front of her gown. With a harsh jerk, the material ripped in two. Except for her shift, she was exposed to the waist.

  Winnie struggled, but it was no use. The hands holding her only tightened.

  Willard yanked on each sleeve, and the fragile seams separated. One by one, the tattered pieces fell to the floor.

  “Where are they? How do you do it?”

  “I told you—”

  Willard lifted his arm again.

  Winnie couldn’t stop a loud scream from echoing in the room. She closed her eyes, preparing for the pain that would come when he hit her. But no pain came. Instead, the door burst open. It slammed against the wall with such force a picture hanging near the door crashed to the floor.

  “Get away from her!” a loud, angry voice demanded.

  Winnie turned her head. She recognized Nick’s voice, but couldn’t believe he was here. That he knew she was here and in need of rescue.

  She struggled to focus on him, but her vision blurred. When it cleared enough to see him, she realized he had a gun in his hand. And the gun was pointed at Harvey Willard’s chest.

  The grip on her arms loosened, and she realized she was free.

  “Come here, my lady,” he ordered. “Now.”

  Winnie struggled to cover her indecency as she stumbled to Nick’s side.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Basil Ellsworth said, his voice an eerie growl.

  Ellsworth’s angry glare burned through her and Winnie realized what a risk Nick had taken in coming.

  Both Ellsworth and Willard seethed with fury. Ellsworth ran his thumb and forefinger over the braided handle of his whip. It was obvious how desperately he wanted to snap its long leather cord and strike Nick’s hand. But the gun in Nick’s grasp was pointed at Harvey Willard’s chest, and Ellsworth couldn’t risk the gun going off and a bullet killing Willard.

  “Now,” Nick said. “Open that door behind you, Willard.”

  “You’re going to die for this,” Willard hissed.

  The fury in his voice was evident. His venomous tone sent a shiver down Winnie’s spine.

  “Open the door,” Nick repeated.

  Willard gave Nick one more deadly look, then reached for the door to a closet and opened it.

  “Now, inside. All of you.”

  “You’re a dead man,” Basil Ellsworth hissed.

  “You’ll have to stand in line, Ellsworth. Your friend’s already opted to be first. Now, inside! All of you.”

  The two guards walked to the small, dark closet and entered. Willard followed, and Ellsworth went last. He stopped as he was about to enter and turned back. “I’m going to enjoy killing you,” he spit out. “I’m going to make your death slow and painful. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it.”

  “Move!” Nick said in a more commanding tone.

  Ellsworth stepped inside the closet and Nick closed the door, then turned the key to lock the men inside. Then he turned back to her.

  “Put this on,” he said removing his jacket and handing it to her.

  Winnie slipped her arms through the sleeves of Nick’s jacket, thankful she could pull the material over her naked shoulders and arms.

  “I ought to throttle you,” Winnie thought she heard him say as he raced past her.

  Nick opened the outer door and looked both ways, then grabbed her arm none too gently and pulled her out into the hallway. Instead of going in the direction of the stairs they’d taken earlier, he turned the opposite direction. They passed one hallway, then a second, and he turned. This hallway wasn’t as brightly lit as the others.

  He dragged her behind him, pulling on her when she began to lag behind. They finally reached a back stairway, probably one used by the servants, and they raced to the bottom.

  Nick turned to the right, ran down a narrow hallway, then burst through a door. The room was lit only by a few lanterns hanging from hooks at various spots in the room. The room was no doubt the storeroom where supplies of liquor were delivered.

  Nick ran to where a wide door opened to the outside. It was obvious he was familiar with the layout of The Dove. Familiar with the location of the entrances and exits the guests never used.

  “Where’s Hodgekens?” he whispered when they reached the outside.

  Winnie leaned her throbbing cheek against the cool bricks of the nearest building, and clutched her hand to the ache in her side. They were in an alley, but she thought it must be an alley on the opposite side of The Dove. “He’s waiting on the side street.”

  “You’ve got to get out of here,” he said as the sound of footsteps echoed from behind them. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her with him.

  “So do you,” she said, trying to keep up with him.

  The footsteps grew closer.

  They were deep in the alley and Winnie could hardly see the entrance ahead of her. It seemed as if they would never reach it. But she knew she couldn’t be the one to slow them down.

  She pushed herself to keep up with him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when they’d taken a few steps. She didn’t expect a response, and she didn’t hear one, but she had to say the words.

  They took another step, then another, as the sound of running footsteps grew louder
.

  Just when Winnie thought it might be possible for them to reach the street beyond the alley, and her waiting carriage, a loud crack shattered the silence.

  Nick arched in response, then pushed her ahead of him.

  “Run, Winnie! Run!”

  She tried to follow Nick’s order, but another crack sounded.

  Nick let out an anguished cry of pain, then his body stopped its forward motion and something pulled him away from her.

  Winnie reached for him, but strong hands clasped around her shoulders and stopped her. The man holding her turned her just as Basil Ellsworth raised his arm and brought the whip down across Nick’s back.

  The material of his waistcoat tore, as well as his shirt, and the edges of the white linen turned dark with his blood.

  Winnie watched Ellsworth’s hand raise again. Then again.

  “No!”

  CHAPTER 12

  She screamed for Ellsworth to stop, but her efforts only earned her another slap to her face. Her vision blurred and she forced herself to stay alert. She shook her head to clear it, then searched the area to find Nick. He lay on the ground several feet from her, and Ellsworth stood over him, the whip in his hand.

  Nick rolled to the side in an effort to escape the next snap of Ellsworth’s whip, but the leather straps continued to hiss through the air, cutting slash after slash across his back.

  Willard was there now, and he held her while the two guards lifted Nick from the ground. They bound his hands, then threw the rope over an open door. The men ripped the shirt from Nick’s back, then held him suspended against the rough wooden door. Ellsworth snapped his wrist and the long leather straps snaked through the air again and again and again. Each connection lay another strip of Nick’s flesh open and bleeding.

  Nick’s body jerked in painful spasms with each lash of the whip. She’d never seen a human flayed, and each time the leather straps connected with Nick’s back, her stomach lurched violently.

  She cried out for Ellsworth to stop. She begged and pleaded and fought with all her might to get free from Willard’s hold. She was desperate to reach Ellsworth and make him stop. But there was nothing she could do but watch Nick’s body jerk in uncontrollable spasms each time the straps met his flesh.

  He was going to die, and it was her fault. He was paying for what she’d done. He’d warned her how dangerous it was to go to The Dove. He’d told her again and again to stay away from here, but she hadn’t listened to him.

  And now he was paying for her foolishness.

  “Stop!” she cried out again, even though she knew her pleas would go unheeded. “Stop!”

  But Ellsworth didn’t. He swung his arm through the air once more, only this time when the straps connected with Nick’s body, Nick didn’t react.

  “He’s either unconscious, or he’s dead,” Ellsworth said. “Do you want me to continue?”

  “No,” Willard said, pushing Winnie forward. “She’s next.”

  “You want me to lay the strap to a woman?” Ellsworth asked. There was disbelief in his voice, but not refusal.

  “That’s what we do to cheaters.”

  A smile lifted the corners of Ellsworth’s mouth as Willard pushed her forward.

  “No!” she screamed. She fought the hands holding her, but she wasn’t strong enough to break his grip. “No!” she screamed again and again.

  The two men holding Nick released him and walked toward her with a rope.

  “No!” she screamed, praying someone would hear her. But she knew no one would. They were too far from the street for anyone to hear. Too far from the street for anyone to see what was happening.

  She looked at Nick lying helpless on the ground. She needed to go to him. She needed to help him.

  “Help!” she cried as loud as she could. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her cry for help caught in her throat. But no one came.

  The men came forward with the rope. Just as they were about to loop the hemp over her wrists, a shot rang out from the shadows.

  The burley guard attempting to tie her hands cried out in pain, then crumpled to the ground. A second shot rang out, and with an anguished moan, Ellsworth dropped the whip.

  “Run!” Willard bellowed, turning toward The Dove.

  Ellsworth clutched his bleeding hand as he ran to safety, and the two henchmen followed behind him.

  Winnie flew to Nick’s side, praying with every step that he’d be alive when she reached him. She fell to the ground beside him and gently placed her hand against his cheek.

  His flesh as warm and he moaned when she tried to move him.

  A wave of relief washed over her and she couldn’t stop the tears from falling to the round.

  “You’re going to be all right, Nick,” she whispered. “I’ll take care of you. Just stay with me. Please, don’t leave me.”

  Heavy footsteps pounded in the distance, then stopped when they reached her. A man dropped down beside her. “Is he alive?” he asked, touching Nick’s face.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have a carriage?”

  She nodded. “Around the other side of the entrance.”

  “Are you able to go for it?”

  “Yes, but I can’t leave him.”

  “You have to. I’ll stay with him. You go for the carriage. We have to get him away from here.”

  She hesitated. She didn’t want to leave Nick with a stranger, but what choice did she have.

  “I’m his partner. My name is Jack Conway.”

  Winnie nodded, then staggered to her feet. She’d go for Hodgekens and bring him back. Nick would be all right until she returned.

  She stumbled when she took her first step and fell into the nearest wall. She pushed herself away from the cold bricks and staggered down the alley.

  “Are you all right?” Jack’s voice said from behind her.

  She wasn’t, but she couldn’t admit that now. Her head hurt like someone had hit her with a boulder, and one eye was swollen shut. She was in so much pain she thought she might become ill. But her injuries were nothing compared to how badly Nick was hurt.

  She made her way down the alley, stumbling when she lost her balance, but finally reached the spot where Hodgekens waited with the carriage.

  She blanched at the look of horror he cast over her ravaged clothing, the torn bodice, all askew from having been donned even as she and Nick fled the room.

  They had to get Nick away from here. Had to get him home where she could take care of him.

  She led Hodgekens back to where she’d left Nick. Thankfully, his friend had carried him to the mouth of the alley and waited there with Nick slung over his shoulder. When the carriage stopped, Nick’s friend placed him in the carriage as gently as he could.

  “Where are you going to take him?” he asked.

  “To my father’s townhouse. There’s a room in our carriage house where he can stay. No one goes there. He’ll be safe there, and we can take care of him.”

  Nick’s friend nodded, then closed the carriage door. “Go,” he ordered. “I’ll follow right behind you.”

  Hodgekens slapped the reins against the horses and the carriage moved forward.

  Winnie sat with Nick’s head in her lap. A river of tears streamed down her face as she brushed back strands of dark hair that had fallen down on his forehead. She didn’t know what she’d do if he died. How she would live with the guilt of knowing she was responsible for his death. Or the loss of him in her life.

  Her tears came faster now, and she reached in the pocket of her skirt for a handkerchief. Her fingers wrapped around the wad of pound notes she’d won at the gaming tables.

  This is what had started it all. Her desperation for money to keep her mother where she couldn’t harm anyone else. Even though she was locked away, her mother had reached out from her cell at Saint Christina’s to cause more pain.

  Winnie shoved the money back in her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. She wiped the blood from Nick’s neck, and fr
om a cut across his cheek. A stream of tears fell when she saw what had happened to him. Huge wracking sobs shook her body when she realized how close he’d come to dying. How possible it was that he could still die.

  The carriage slowed, then turned, then came to a stop. The door opened and Hodgekens stood there with Nick’s friend, Jack.

  “I’ll take him,” Jack Conway said, then gently placed Nick over his shoulder.

  Hodgekens helped Winnie from the carriage and turned her toward the house. “Go inside, my lady. Let Tilly take care of you.”

  Winnie shook her head. “I need to go with him,” she said, watching as Jack and two stable hands carried Nick into the carriage house.

  “This is no place for you now, my lady. Your father’s carriage hasn’t returned yet. You can’t be anywhere near here tonight. You’re going to have a hard enough time coming up with an excuse for the bruises on your face.”

  Winnie lifted her hand and touched her cheek. Pain shot through her and she felt how swollen her face was already. She couldn’t imagine what she must look like.

  Winnie glanced back to the carriage house where they’d taken Nick. “You’ll tell me if he…” Winnie couldn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t want to face the possibility that Nick might not survive what they’d done to him. She didn’t want to consider that she might lose him after she’d come to care for him so much.

  Hodgekens shot his arm out to steady her when she staggered, then led her to the kitchen entrance. The house was still, the lights dimmed low, and she was able to make it to her room without running into anyone.

  She’d have a difficult time explaining the swollen bruises that darkened her face. She’d have an even harder time trying to explain the tears she couldn’t seem to stop from falling.

  . . .

  After Tilly recovered from the initial shock of seeing Winnie’s bruised and swollen face, Winnie explained what had happened. Tilly helped Winnie get ready for bed, then covered her bruises as best she could.

  “Have Anne and Father returned yet?” Winnie asked when she was settled.

  “No, my lady. Not yet.”

  “I want you to wait for them,” Winnie told her maid. “When they come home, I want you to tell Father that I had an accident. Tell him that I lost my balance and fell down the stairs. Tell him he needs to check on me before he retires.”