The Ice Queen

by Sasha Cottman

  Rude, pompous, horrible man.

  “Mama says I have to go. Apparently, I have to do something about my own marital status, and she thinks Newhall presents a perfect opportunity. She and Papa are worried that I am getting a certain reputation. She says I need to make some new friends. She wants me to try and be nice to Newhall, can you believe it? After what he did to me at the lake, he would stand a better chance of making friends with the devil,” she replied.

  Claire leaned in close so their mothers could not overhear. “Could you possibly take James with you? That brother of mine has inexplicably fallen into a funk of late. He mopes about the house all day, and only grumbles at you if he speaks at all. The most animated he has been was when you fell out of the boat.”

  Caroline’s ears pricked up. She and James were close. Her cousin shared many of her tastes in music, dance and theatre. A week spent with him in the country was appealing. Misery did love company, and if she was going to have to go to Newhall Castle under protest, having James alongside would make it closer to bearable.

  “Yes, of course. I shall speak to Francis and get his agreement. The three of us shall make our own little band of travelers,” she replied.

  The addition of her favorite male cousin to the group would be a most welcome bonus. Caroline could then share the entertainments with Francis and James, while watching with amusement as the other young unmarried misses vied for the hand of the devilishly handsome, but thoroughly unsuitable, earl. They would make their own fun at the house party.

  Word of the party had spread fast throughout the drawing rooms of London society. Unattached dukes and marquises were thin on the ground after the end of the official season, so the prospect of an earl actively searching for a wife was a sudden and welcome distraction to the matrons of the ton.

  “Did the Countess of Lienz invite you? I hear she is a fearsome creature,” said Claire.

  Caroline snorted. The countess was a consummate actress when it suited her, but Caroline saw her as having all the charm of a snake. “Yes, though it is somewhat of a relief to know that the Countess of Lienz won’t be attending the party. She is simply dictating who should go before she sails for home. All a bit odd, don’t you think?”

  Claire’s eyebrows were raised. “Well, you have been spared the company of the countess at least. And you shall be doing all of my family a great favor by getting misery guts James out of the house for a week or so.”

  Caroline smiled. “Derbyshire it is then.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Caroline heard the door of the breakfast room open and looked up to see her older brother William enter the room.

  She leapt from her chair and greeted him with a hug. He had been back in England for a number of months, but the Saunders family members still greeted him the same way they had the first time he set foot back in the house after five years away in France.

  “Lovely to see you. Did you bring Hattie with you?” she said.

  “No. She was out late at the soup kitchen last night and is still sleeping. I thought I might come over and see you before you head off to Derbyshire,” he replied. He held up a tiny pair of blue baby booties and smiled as he looked at them. “And Mama has presented me with yet another pair of knitted boots for the baby.”

  Will’s recent marriage to charity worker, Harriet Wright, had been followed quickly with the news that they were expecting their first child. Adelaide Saunders had already finished a number of baby garments for her long-awaited first grandchild.

  Her tall, dark-haired, brother took a seat at the breakfast table, and Caroline resumed her seat. “It was nice of you to come and see me,” she said.

  Knowing Will, there would be more to the purpose of his visit than just saying goodbye to his sister.

  Caroline waited for Will to take his first sip of coffee before posing the obvious question. “Papa tells me you know Lord Newhall from your time in France after the peace. I am assuming you have come to tell me he is not a bad chap after all and that I should be nice to him. Would that be the sum of it?”

  Will put down his cup. “Yes, that is exactly why I am here. I understand from Francis that you and Newhall have been at loggerheads for some time, and I have come to simply ask you to attempt a fresh start.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Julian Palmer is a good man. He has done a great service to his country and even if you do not particularly like him, he deserves your respect,” replied Will.

  Will was not one for bandying about his words. He was more direct than other men. Life living as a secret agent during the reign of Napoleon had changed him. So too had the death of his first wife. Caroline knew she could not be as flippant with Will as she could be with Francis.

  She wanted to tell him that few men deserved respect. That men were tiresome creatures at best. But she wasn’t a fool. Will would give those sentiments short shrift.

  “Alright. I will be polite and respectful to him while I am a guest in his home. It is not as if I am planning to marry him. In fact, I am hoping to remain a spinster for quite some time to come,” she replied.

  Will huffed in obvious frustration. “Don’t act like a silly miss, Caroline. Marriage is a wonderful thing. I have loved and lost, and by God’s grace I have found love again. Promise me you will go to Newhall Castle with at least an open mind, if not an open heart.”

  “I don’t know about the open heart. Lord Newhall doesn’t strike me as a man capable of much emotion,” she replied, hurt by his words.

  “And there you are very much mistaken. I was with Newhall in Paris when he received word of his father’s death. Believe me, Caroline, he was utterly crushed. Don’t judge others by your own cold indifference, you run the risk of one day falling in love with someone who only values you for your beauty. It would break my heart to see that happen. You deserve more,” he said. Will downed the last of his coffee and rose from the table.

  Caroline remained in her seat, staring at her rapidly cooling toast. Her parents worried that their daughter was a heartless tease. And the brother she had missed for all those years thought her cold and indifferent to love.

  They stood in judgment of her, yet none of them had any understanding as to why she had become the Ice Queen.

  None of them knew how desperately lonely she was.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The week was fast drawing to a close. And while the countess had finally sent the guest list to Lady Margaret, there was still no sign of the Crusader Ruby. With his family’s honor at stake, Julian decided it was time to confront the countess and demand she hand it over.

  He knocked several times on the front door of the Count of Lienz’s townhouse before a servant finally opened it.

  “Lord Newhall to see the Countess of Lienz,” he said.

  The footman nodded. “Please come inside. I have instructions to hand over an item to you.”

  Julian followed him inside and waited while the footman hurried off into a nearby room. He returned with an envelope, and nothing else. “Their royal highnesses departed London early yesterday morning. They left this for you my lord.”

  With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Julian took the letter and tore it open. He read the short note and then screwed it up into a tight ball and stuffed it into his coat pocket.

  He waited until he had got back into his carriage before pulling the letter back out and reading it for a second time.

  Newhall,

  My darling husband wishes to sail tomorrow so we left London a little earlier than expected.

  I am sure you would agree that the necklace suits me better than it would any future wife of yours, so I have decided to keep it. Consider it payment for having given birth to you.

  Your dearest mama

  “You fool, Newhall,” he muttered.

  He had trusted her, and yet again, she had betrayed him. She had never intended to hand over the necklace, using it as a means to once more get the better of him. She knew how much the C
rusader Ruby meant to the Palmer family, and by keeping it she was exacting every drop of revenge she could.

  He threw the letter across the carriage and huffed in frustration. If he never saw the necklace again it was his own stupid fault.

  The Count of Lienz’s yacht would have sailed with the evening tide and be well on its way to the port of Ostend in Belgium. His mother was out of his reach.

  The only bright side he could find in discovering the countess’s early departure from England was that she would not be making an unexpected appearance at Newhall Castle to disrupt the house party. Apart from having made the guest list, she would have no other input in the most important decision in his life—choosing a wife.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lady Margaret folded the guest list and put it into her travelling desk. She closed it and placed it on the seat beside her.

  Julian looked up from the estate papers he was reading. “All in order?”

  Lady Margaret pursed her lips, then nodded. “Yes. Oddly so. Your mother has invited the most eligible young women in London. And most of them have accepted.”

  Knowing the sort of overbearing woman his mother was, Julian was not in the least surprised that few had dared to decline. “That still does not make up for having stolen the necklace.”

  As soon as the house party was over, he would follow the countess to Austria. If he did ask one of his lady guests to be his bride, it would be with the express understanding that their honeymoon would be spent trying to retrieve the Crusader Ruby. The countess may have thought she had got the better of him, but Julian was far from done with his mother.

  “You sent word ahead of all the preparations that need to be in hand before our guests arrive on Saturday?” he asked, changing the subject.

  Lady Margaret nodded. If anyone could arrange a successful house party it was her. He could trust all the arrangements to her, knowing that she would have Newhall Castle shining like a new pin before the first guest arrived. She cared that the castle should have a new mistress, one who would see it well-managed for the next generation.

  He sat back in the travel coach and looked out the window. It was good to be going home. He had spent too little time at his estate since his father’s death.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?” she replied.

  “For being here. For all that you have done for me over the years. I know when you were with my father you looked after him out of love, but as for me, you have no obligation. You have always been the one person I can count on. I just wanted to acknowledge that. You are the mother I never had,” he said.

  He chuckled as Lady Margaret quickly wiped a tear from her eye. She reached over and gave him a soft slap on the knee. “You just did that to make me cry, you wicked boy.”

  When their travel coach made the final turn into the grounds of Newhall Castle, Julian sat up in his seat. He looked out the window, watching the deer, which freely roamed the castle grounds, scatter as the coach approached.

  His joy at being home was tempered by the fact that his father would not be waiting for him on the steps of the castle. He would never get used to the emptiness he felt at not seeing the earl’s smiling face.

  He sighed and looked back to Lady Margaret. She was staring at him with a wistful look.

  “He would be pleased to know that you are moving on with your life. That hopefully the halls of the castle will soon echo with the laughter of children. Running wild over the castle grounds with his siblings was always his favorite memory of his own childhood here. It pained him to his death that you were never able to experience that same happiness,” she said.

  Julian shrugged off the lovely sentimental thought. Laughter had always been in short supply while his mother reigned over the estate. To this day, he still felt a sense of guilt over the one time she had made him happy. When he had stood out the front of the castle and watched her climb into the carriage that had taken her away. The very last time she had left Newhall Castle for good.

  “Well, let us hope that one of the young ladies we have invited is agreeable and would make a suitable countess,” he replied.

  Having daily borne witness to the disaster that had been his parents’ union, Julian was content to settle his matrimonial sights on a woman who could stand to be in the same room as him. A marriage of respect and kindness was the limit of his expectations.

  He went back to looking out the coach window. Banks of snow sat on the verges either side of the driveway. Snow that was deep enough that it would not melt with the morning sun.

  “I hope you have plenty of indoor activities planned for the week; it looks like the weather could turn foul earlier than it usually does. The last thing we want is to be trying to host outdoor events when the guests are in danger of freezing to death,” he said.

  “I had thought about that before we left, so I shall have the staff empty the main ballroom. We can set up archery contests in there if the weather closes in,” Lady Margaret replied.

  Julian put his face to the glass and looked up at the sky. The clouds were thick grey ones which sat low in the sky. There was not a patch of blue to be seen.

  His hopes for the weather sunk further when his gaze followed Lady Margaret’s hand as she pointed toward the west, the direction from which their weather normally came. More low, dark clouds followed those which already hung overhead.

  “Oh dear. That does not look good. I shall send word to the village to bring over more supplies of wood and food. If we do get snowed in for a time, the least we can do is to make sure your guests are warm and well-fed,” she said.

  With the members of the house party expected two days hence, there was not time enough to send word to London to cancel the party. Whatever the weather, they would have to make do.

  The coach slowed to a halt outside the front door of the castle. Julian helped Lady Margaret down and they accepted the welcome greetings from the Newhall estate steward.

  “Here he comes,” said Lady Margaret.

  Through the castle door bounded a black cocker spaniel who made straight for Julian. He jumped up at his master, tail wagging.

  “Hello Midas. You have missed me,” he said.

  His steward chuckled. “He began whimpering a few minutes ago, long before the coach came into view.”

  Julian bent down and scratched Midas’s ears. His late father had given him the dog as a present just before Julian left to serve in the war against Napoleon. Midas was one of the few living reminders of his father that he had.

  “You are happy to have us home. Well, we will have lots of people in the house this week, so I am sure you will be spoilt rotten by the end of the party,” said Julian.

  One of the tests he had set for his choice of wife was how well she handled the dog. His future countess would have to be comfortable in letting Midas have the roam of most of the house. Any young lady who asked for the dog to be kept to the stables would find her name quietly removed from Julian’s list.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Caroline dug an elbow into James’s ribs. Her cousin sprang awake and glared at her.

  “You are snoring, and it is keeping me awake. You might want to use the extra blanket to prop you up into a better position. One which allows you to breathe better,” she said.

  James looked to Francis who was seated on the bench opposite. He shook his head. But there was no support to be found from his cousin.

  “You snore like that large dog of yours when it falls asleep in the hallway. Or did you buy the dog to hide your own terrible secret?” said Francis.

  Caroline chuckled. The Radley family dog’s name was officially King, but to everyone he was known as Pound. As in the pound of flesh he normally gulped down in one go at every meal. Once fed, he would take to his favorite sleeping place, which was the middle of the hallway at the Bishop of London’s family home at Fulham Palace.

  “Very amusing. You should be on the stage,” replied James.

  Caroline applauded
his clever response, and even Francis smiled. She moved along the bench and tried to make an inch more space to get comfortable. Their Uncle Ewan, the Duke of Strathmore, had graciously granted them use of his private travel coach for the long journey to Newhall Castle, but even in the well-appointed coach there was little room to find comfort.

  While the journey to Derbyshire was much shorter than the one they made each year to the family estate in Scotland, it was still not something Caroline was particularly enjoying.

  Instead of happily telling all her friends of her grand plans for the week or so away, she was leaving London under a cloud. If her own family thought poorly of her, what did others outside of her kin think?

  She pulled up the thick woolen blanket which was on her lap and wrapped it about her shoulders. Autumn was fast turning into winter. From the pockets of snow, she had observed on the ground as they passed through Northamptonshire, she wondered just how cold it would be when they finally reached Newhall Castle.

  As if reading her mind, James stomped his feet on the floor of the coach. He shrugged his shoulders before huffing loudly. “I should not have packed my heavy coat in with my luggage. At our next stop, I shall ask the coachman to retrieve it from the rooftop.”

  “Where did summer go? Oh yes, we did not get one,” replied Francis.

  Caroline sighed. Long coach journeys were always a trial, but usually entertainment could either be found in a good book or made from conversation. With neither her brother or James in a particularly happy frame of mind, the trip was taking its toll on her already stretched mind. She had to break the black mood before it took a deeper hold.