But why? Why would Theo warn Nick off Alex like that? What had he ever done to Theo? If anything, it was the other way around…
No, that wasn’t fair either.
Nick closed his eyes and tried to push away memories of his friend and his wife and all the misery this place had inflicted on the three of them.
Alex’s hand slipped into his. He hadn’t heard her get up, but she stood in front of him now, holding onto him. Or maybe he was the one holding onto her, clinging to her like a lifeline.
That had been Theo’s voice. Shouting at them. Warning her. About him.
God, it hurt.
‘Come on,’ she told him, her voice so gentle. ‘There’s got to be something to drink in this place somewhere. My grandfatherused to have all the wine in the world in the cellar and barely touched a drop. Is that still there?’
‘I’ll have to deal with that first.’ He nodded towards the ensuite.
‘I think it’s dead, Nick. You killed it.’
How did she manage to make him smile at a moment like this? But she did. ‘All the same. Just in case it reignites or…’
Alex slipped by him and scooped the remains of the recorder up before he could stop her. She marched to the window, pulled it up and tossed the sodden, melted mass out onto the gravel driveway below.
‘There,’ she said, wiping her hands together. ‘Nothing for it to set fire to out there, okay?’
She was right. Nothing but gravel. Not known for burning. ‘Okay,’ he agreed. ‘Let’s get a drink. But Alex?—’
‘I heard him. We both did. And once we’ve had that drink maybe you can tell me why my brother would say something like that to you.’
Nick lit a fire in the drawing room while Alex poked around in one of the dressers and emerged with a pair of wine glasses that were probably Georgian. It was later than he’d thought. Night was settling in.
‘Are these okay?’ she asked.
They probably weren’t worth that much, plain and simple as they were. Her grandfather had sold anything especially valuable.
‘They’re yours,’ he said. It shouldn’t feel like such a big thing, but it was true. He had to accept that now. Wildewood Hall was hers. It didn’t react to just anyone like this. Neither did the woods.
She flashed him a smile and set them down on the small Victorian side table by the sofa. ‘Wine?’ she asked.
‘In the cellar,’ he said and almost swallowed the word, shooting back up to his feet. ‘I’ll get it. Stay here.’
‘I can—’ she started.
‘No,’ he said, probably too sharply. ‘I’ll go. It isn’t safe.’
An understatement. But he really didn’t want to get into that. Not right now. And not after what had happened upstairs. The house was too active by far, and Alex was a focal point. And the cellar…it was a bad place, just like he’d told Maeve all her life. The worst place in the whole house.
Alex gave him another of those very knowing looks but obviously decided it wasn’t worth arguing.
‘Right then,’ she said and settled down on the sofa, opening the notebook and starting to read.
That might be worse, of course. But not by much. What had the professor put in there? He had known more about the house and its history than anyone else. Still, she needed to know.
She frowned, a tiny line drawing between her eyebrows as she focused. God, she was beautiful. Intense. Perfect.
And Nick shouldn’t be thinking about her like that. Not right now. Perhaps not ever. Theo had been clear enough. Horribly clear.
‘I’ll only be a minute,’ he said as he left.
‘If you aren’t back soon, I’ll come after you,’ she called out. She tried to make it sound more like a threat than a promise. He wasn’t fooled.
