Heart of Ice

by Sk Quinn

  ‘Anise won’t be coming back. She says she loves Regan. And she’s staying with him. Bertie or no Bertie.’

  My heart drops to my feet.

  Oh God.

  ‘I need to talk to Zara,’ says Patrick. ‘She’s close with Anise. She might offer some insight. Lord knows, I haven’t a clue what’s going on. It’s like Anise has totally lost her mind.’

  ‘She has,’ I say softly. ‘I mean … Regan is a strong character. And he got to her when she was young. She’s besotted with him.’

  ‘Yes.’ Patrick’s jaw is tight. ‘She’s certainly not making any sense. Talking about my father …’

  ‘He’s still in custody, isn’t he?’ I ask, my voice suddenly high.

  ‘Yes. But they’re getting a strong case together. And with Anise on side … they could let him go. It’s possible. Without Bertie to testify, we don’t have much.’

  ‘We can’t make him,’ I say. ‘He’s been through enough.’

  ‘I know. And yet if he doesn’t … a monster could walk free.’

  ‘Are you sure Zara can help?’ I say, hating that Patrick wants to talk to her.

  ‘No. I’m not certain about anything anymore – except how little I know my sister.’

  ‘I haven’t seen Zara in the castle today,’ I say. ‘She wasn’t at breakfast. Maybe she’s out somewhere.’

  ‘No, she’s here. She’s been down at the spa all morning. She texted me—’

  Patrick stops himself.

  ‘She texted you?’ I ask. ‘Why?’

  ‘Just Zara being Zara. That’s all.’

  ‘Let me see the text.’

  Patrick laughs. ‘What?’

  ‘The text message. I want to see it.’

  I dive for his cargo trouser pockets, feeling around for his phone.

  ‘If you want to find out what’s in my trousers, you only have to ask.’

  ‘Very funny,’ I say flatly, pulling out his phone.

  It’s locked.

  ‘Give me the passcode,’ I demand.

  ‘Seraphina—’

  ‘Just give me it!’

  I think for a moment. ‘Wait. It’ll be Jamie’s birthday.’

  I type in 1, 2, 3, 4 and the phone opens.

  Patrick watches me, his eyes disappointed.

  I feel disappointed in me too. But I just can’t help myself. It’s like the devil’s got in me and I just have to see this message.

  And then I find it.

  ‘Hi big boy, down in the castle spa, scantily dressed and waiting for my big hunky cousin to come see me. Laters potatas, Zara xxx.’

  And then another one, a few hours later:

  ‘Is scantily dressed not good enough for you? Then I’ll take it off. Just hurry on down here – still at the spa.’

  And then a final one half an hour ago:

  ‘Still here honey. Not much on at all right now. Fancy a dip?’

  23

  Oh my god.

  Yes, I know there are more important things going on right now.

  I know.

  But my blood is white hot.

  How dare she? How dare she?

  And Patrick – what’s he doing letting her send messages like that?

  I shove the phone into his hand.

  ‘This is the girl you want coming to our wedding?’

  ‘Seraphina—’

  ‘If she’s there, I won’t be. And right now, maybe I won’t be there anyway. How can you let her send you messages like that?’

  ‘Look, I’ve known Zara a long time.’

  ‘I FUCKING KNOW YOU HAVE PATRICK!’

  ‘If I told her off for sending those messages, she’d just get excited. So I don’t give her any fuel. Believe me – three text messages is nothing. She’s sent me hundreds before. She just wants attention.’

  ‘She shouldn’t even have your number. You should change your number—’

  ‘I don’t need to change my number. I just need to ignore her. Those messages mean nothing to me.’

  ‘Oh really?’

  ‘It’s the truth.’

  ‘I’m going to talk to her. Right now.’

  ‘Seraphina—’

  ‘Don’t try and stop me Patrick.’

  24

  Outside the spa, I hear the soft drip of water and the lovely scent of essential oils.

  I pull open the door and find Zara in the hot tub.

  Completely naked.

  With Grey.

  She has her arms spread right out, holding the sides of the tub.

  Zara looks startled as I burst in. But her face quickly settles back into its usual calm, cat-like look.

  Grey is his usual relaxed self.

  ‘Come to join the party, Mrs Patrick Mansfield?’ Zara says.

  I hear Patrick behind me and feel his hand grab my arm. ‘Seraphina—’

  I pull away. ‘Zara – how dare you? How DARE you send those texts to Patrick. He’s engaged. To me. Send your dirty messages to someone else.’

  Zara crosses her legs in the water and moves wet hair around her shoulder. ‘You’d better watch out, little red head. Girls who play with fire get burned.’

  ‘Easy now,’ says Grey. ‘Let’s keep it calm. No naked fights now.’

  Zara rolls her eyes at him. ‘What happened to you, Greyson Mansfield? No naked fights?’

  ‘Let’s just say I’ve grown up a bit recently.’

  ‘Grown down, from what I can see.’ Zara glances at Grey’s lap. ‘Here you are. A beautiful naked woman right next to you. And nothing. What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘It’s nothing personal,’ says Grey. ‘I just have someone else on my mind.’

  Zara looks annoyed. ‘So you keep saying. And yet you still got in the tub with me.’

  ‘If I remember rightly, you got in the tub with me.’

  ‘And you weren’t complaining.’

  ‘Listen Zara.’ I put my hands on my hips. ‘If you ever send Patrick messages like that again, you’re going to regret it.’

  Zara laughs. ‘Are you threatening me, little miss firecracker?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And what exactly are you going to do?’ says Zara, climbing languidly out of the tub and patting her hair with a fluffy towel. ‘If I carry on sending messages to my cousin?’

  ‘Something you won’t like.’

  ‘Well I can’t say I’m worried.’ Zara carries on patting her hair. ‘I think you’re all talk.’

  I laugh. ‘Then you don’t know me at all.’

  ‘You’re just jealous. Because I got to Patrick first.’

  ‘From what I hear, you got there first with pretty much every man in Scotland.’

  Grey lets out a short laugh.

  Zara smiles nastily. ‘You really are jealous, aren’t you? Funny. Since you two are so in love.’

  ‘Just stop sending him messages Zara,’ I say, my voice low and dangerous.

  Zara laughs. ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Because I’m telling you to.’

  ‘And I’m telling you. You’re all talk.’

  Sometimes I just see red. And I can’t help myself.

  I give Zara a great big shove, and she lands with a splash in the hot tub.

  She comes up from the water coughing and spluttering.

  ‘She pushed me in!’ she shrieks. ‘Patrick. Grey! How could you stand by and let her do that to me? You’re supposed to be gentlemen.’

  Patrick and Grey are laughing so hard that neither of them can reply at first.

  Then Grey splutters, ‘Do you need a towel Zara?’

  He and Patrick burst out laughing again, great big guffaws, Patrick leaning over and clutching his stomach.

  ‘Patrick!’ says Zara, splashing around in the water to face him. ‘You’re not going to let her get away with this. Surely? I’m your cousin.’

  ‘Like you said, play with fire and you get burned,’ says Patrick. ‘You just got exactly what you deserved.’

  Zara smoothes her hair down a
nd glares at all of us. Then she climbs out of the hot tub, wraps a towel around her and stalks off into the changing rooms.

  Patrick and Grey are trying to keep straight faces.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ I ask.

  Patrick shakes his head, still clearly trying to hold it together. Then he catches Grey’s eye and they both roar with laughter.

  ‘Hey!’ I smack Patrick’s arm. ‘This is serious. She shouldn’t have been sending you those messages.’

  ‘No,’ says Patrick. ‘She shouldn’t.’

  ‘It was about time someone told her off,’ says Grey.

  ‘And neither of you big, strong men could do it?’ I ask.

  ‘I’ve been telling Zara off for years,’ says Patrick. ‘It doesn’t make the blindest bit of difference. If anything it makes her worse.’

  ‘But maybe pushing her in the hot tub will make her think twice,’ says Grey.

  He and Patrick start guffawing again.

  ‘Come on you two,’ I say. ‘I wasn’t doing it so you could laugh at her. But hopefully she’ll learn a lesson.’

  Patrick’s arm tightens around my shoulder. ‘See?’ he tells Grey. ‘I told you she was something special.’

  ‘She’s that all right,’ says Grey. ‘I’ve never seen anyone tell Zara off like that. Not even her parents. Let’s just hope when she dries off she isn’t too angry.’

  ‘She has no right to be,’ I fume. ‘She started it.’

  ‘And you finished it,’ says Grey. ‘Something tells me that’s a lesson Zara Mansfield isn’t going to forget for a long time.’

  ‘I hope she doesn’t forget it,’ I say. ‘Because if I catch her texting Patrick again, she’ll get a hell of a lot worse than the hot tub. Believe me.’

  ‘Oh I believe you,’ says Grey. ‘Now. Listen, you two. The bubbles are bursting. So you’d better go. Patrick – you don’t want your fiancée seeing what’s between my legs. It might turn her head.’

  The smile leaves Patrick’s face. ‘Grey!’ he roars.

  Grey holds up his hands. ‘Joke! Joke!’

  25

  Patrick and I head into the woods to find Bertie.

  It doesn’t take us long – Patrick finds the trail within seconds.

  When we catch up with them, Gregory is talking to Bertie about the birds in the trees.

  ‘And that one lad – you see that one there? A magpie. They like a bit of sparkle. I’ve had them pecking around my spades and rakes before. And they usually come in pairs. That’s why we say “one for sorrow”.’

  I can tell Bertie is listening. But he’s still and silent.

  God.

  How could Anise do this? How could she leave Bertie for Regan Thornburn – a man who kept her locked up in a barn … But she’s a troubled soul herself. Regan has got into her head. I have to remember that. My family may not be perfect, but at least my father wasn’t a monster.

  ‘Bertie?’ I say softly.

  He doesn’t turn. Instead he flinches.

  Ouch.

  Should I tell him more about Anise? That she’s left the castle to be with Regan? That she’s not coming back?

  No. Best not. Besides, there’s nothing much to tell right now. She might even change her mind and come home.

  Right?

  A nasty feeling in my stomach tells me that won’t happen. But there’s nothing wrong with thinking positive.

  ‘He’s quiet this morning,’ says Gregory, patting Bertie on the head. ‘Too quiet.’

  ‘I know,’ I say, going to Bertie’s side. ‘Bertie, I wish you’d talk to me. Sometimes talking really can help, you know. With your feelings.’

  Bertie screws up his face. ‘Daddy,’ he says. ‘I want Daddy.’

  I feel cold. ‘What?’ I ask, thinking maybe I misheard him.

  ‘Want my daddy.’

  ‘What do you mean, Bertie?’ I ask, reaching for Patrick’s hand.

  ‘My real daddy. Want him.’

  I look at Patrick.

  How on earth are we going to deal with this one? How do you tell a little kid like Bertie that we’re not really sure who his daddy is?

  I stoop down to Bertie’s level.

  ‘Are you talking about Regan?’ I ask. ‘Because … the thing with that is—’

  Bertie cuts me off with a shake of his head. ‘No. Not him. My real daddy.’

  ‘Um. Who is your real daddy?’ I ask.

  ‘Blake. I want Blake Thornburn.’

  26

  Uh oh.

  I look up at Patrick.

  His eyes are stormy.

  ‘You want to see Blake Thornburn?’ I ask.

  Bertie nods his head vigorously.

  ‘Blake … Regan’s little brother?’

  ‘Yes. Him,’ says Bertie. ‘He’s my daddy.’

  I think for a moment. ‘Do you remember the time you spent with him?’ I ask. ‘When you were small?’

  Bertie frowns. ‘A little bit. Everyone said he was my daddy then. And he was nice. When Mummy and I were taken, he was the nice one. So I think it must be him. The nasty one … Reg-an … he said Blake was my daddy too. Even though Mummy said he wasn’t. That Regan was my daddy. But I don’t believe her.’

  ‘Bertie, the thing with the Thornburns is—’

  ‘WANT TO SEE DADDY!’ Bertie shouts. ‘WANT TO SEE DADDY!’

  He balls up his little fists and starts throwing them at me.

  ‘Wait right there little man.’ Patrick dives down and grabs Bertie’s fists before they make contact. ‘You DO NOT hit Seraphina. EVER.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ I say, putting a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. ‘He’s allowed to be angry. And I’m glad. It shows he’s coming out of himself. This whole situation is messed up. We just need to figure out how to fix it. He needs our love right now.’

  ‘Okay,’ says Patrick, letting go of Bertie’s wrists. ‘But you need to calm down young man. All right?’

  ‘Bertie?’ I say. ‘Do you want us to take you to see Blake Thornburn?’

  ‘Seraphina—’ Patrick barks.

  But I hold a hand up to him. ‘Please Patrick. If this is what Bertie needs right now, we have to try and give it to him. Even if we don’t like it.’

  ‘I don’t like anything to do with the Thornburns,’ says Patrick. ‘Not one little bit.’

  ‘Well Bertie does,’ I fire back. ‘He likes Blake. And he could be …’

  Bertie’s real father. There’s a one in three chance at least …

  I make eyes at Patrick and hope he understands what I’m saying.

  Patrick stands and stares back at the castle. ‘So you want us to become best friends with the Thornburns now? The men who kidnapped my sister and nephew. And you.’

  ‘Only Regan did that.’

  Patrick looks down at me with eyes that burn. ‘I should have killed him,’ he says. ‘While I had the chance.’

  ‘Anise would still have been lost,’ I whisper. ‘Maybe forever that way.’

  ‘Perhaps. But she’d be here. With us.’

  ‘In body. But not in spirit.’

  ‘There is no way in hell I am taking Bertie on the Thornburns’ turf. And that’s an end to it.’

  I think of what May said – about losing Bertie and Anise to the Thornburns.

  Maybe I’m playing with fire, but …

  ‘Bertie,’ I ask. ‘What if we invited Blake Thornburn here? To the castle?’

  ‘Seraphina!’ Patrick barks.

  ‘Wait Patrick. Let’s just see what Bertie has to say.’

  Bertie nods his head hard. ‘Yes. Bring Daddy here. Then Mummy will come back.’

  I see genuine hope on Bertie’s pale face.

  ‘She might not come back,’ I tell him gently. ‘Even if Blake comes to visit us. It might take more than that to bring her back.’

  ‘No,’ says Bertie. ‘If Daddy comes, Mummy will too.’

  ‘Is that why you want Blake to come here?’ I ask.

  ‘Mummy says we should be a family. So if
I get a daddy, she’ll come and we’ll be a family together.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that Bertie,’ I say.

  Bertie clamps his mouth shut and sits heavily on the ground.

  ‘It’s cold down there,’ I say, crouching down beside him.

  He looks away from me.

  ‘Bertie?’

  He turns his whole body away, crossing his arms to block me out.

  ‘Come on Bertie. Let’s go back to the castle.’

  ‘Won’t go.’

  ‘Then Patrick will have to carry you,’ I tell him.

  ‘NOOOOOOOOO! WANT DADDY! DADDY, DADDY, DADDY!’

  Bertie breaks down into noisy sobs.

  I try to hug him, but he pushes me away.

  I turn to Patrick. ‘I think we should ask Blake to come to Mansfield Castle. I think it could help Bertie. At least to understand …’

  Patrick’s jaw goes tight. ‘A Thornburn. At Mansfield Castle.’

  ‘A Thornburn who could be Bertie’s father.’

  Patrick looks at Bertie, and his face softens. ‘If you really think it could help him. I suppose it could be arranged.’

  Bertie gets to his feet and tucks his hand in mine.

  ‘Will you stay with me Sera? When I see Daddy?’

  God, I feel sick. Is this the right thing to do? I have no idea. Nothing feels right, really. But I just feel like Blake could unlock something in Bertie. Set him free in a way.

  Let’s hope I’m right.

  27

  It doesn’t take much to set up a meeting with Blake.

  Just one phone call, actually.

  I make the call because I don’t trust Patrick not to shout down the telephone.

  Blake is far more agreeable than I expected. He even offers to take Bertie out for the morning, but I say no – absolutely not. The meeting has to be at Mansfield Castle.

  With Patrick and I on hand.

  Blake arrives at eleven the next morning, as arranged.

  He comes tearing down the tree-lined driveway on a noisy Yamaha motorbike.

  By the looks of things, he’s worked on the bike himself and made the handling and speed a little better.

  I’m impressed, actually.

  He’s not wearing a helmet, and his brown hair blows back as he rides.

  Bertie and I wait for him at the castle entrance, flanked by Patrick and Rab.

  I have my hand on Bertie’s shoulder.