Page 19 of A Touch of Charm
“Did you build this ice chamber?” Thea asked.
“Yes, I need the ice for my patients. It cools wounds and reduces inflammation.”
“So, the ice doesn’t melt if you keep it here?”
“Not for about ten to twelve days. But I get a new ice block every Tuesday.”
“Where does it come from?”
“A patient. I helped him a little while ago, and he has a large subterranean icehouse near Regent Street. He shows his gratitude with a block of ice every week.”
“Gratitude for what?”
“I’m not in the habit of revealing information about my patients, Princess Thea.”
She could imagine he’d done much for the man if he delivered a precious block of ice weekly. “It’s so pure,” she observed.
“The finest from the lakes in Norway,” he said.
Thea ducked lower again, taking in the egg-shaped chamber that’d been embedded seamlessly into the cool, stone cellar wall. Its smooth, curved interior gleamed faintly in the dim light, a clever design meant to preserve the cool just like a tiny icehouse.
“Why is the chamber oval? Does it involve heat dissipation or the shape’s insulation?”
At that, Andre set down his tools and scooted to the side. Thea squatted to look inside the ice chamber, and Andre held the lantern up so she could see.
“Yes,” he said, and she thought she had caught a hint of admiration in his tone.
Thea could feel the cellar’s chill seeping through her thin gown, yet the contrasting warmth of Andre’s presence truly held her focus. The air around them was cool and damp, as if they were sharing a secret in the flickering shadows cast by the lone lantern he held aloft. Its light danced over the walls, illuminating the ice chamber’s oval mouth—a hidden alcove of scientific brilliance within the brick wall.
Her gaze lingered on the ice, where each chip caught the lantern’s glow, transforming into a cascade of diamonds.
Andre leaned in, his voice a soft murmur that threaded through the stillness. “Notice the curve of the roof,” he said, his hand a gentle guide pointing to the chamber’s arch. “It traps the warmth, cooling it quickly, much like an igloo.”
The rectangular block lay before her, smooth yet faceted. It was a frozen testament to Andre’s strength, breaking off the final piece he’d wrapped and setting it on the ground next to her feet. Her warm breath curled like silver tendrils as she breathed, a ghostly ballet in the dim, intimate light.
Her awareness of him was acute; each breath he took matched hers, weaving them together through nothing but the special moment.
She tilted her head slightly, catching the outline of his features—solid and sure in the lantern’s glow. Thea felt an unspoken connection, as though the chilled air had conspired to bring them nearer, wrapping them in its embrace.
Her fingers grazed the ice, a cool caress that sent her shivering, mingling with the warmth that blossomed from Andre’s proximity. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of them and the palpable tension, a delicate thread ready to weave them into something wondrous.
“This cabinet is a marvel of practicality,” Thea said.
She watched as Andre resumed his work, the rhythmic sound of the chisel against ice resonated in the dim cellar. Each strike seemed to echo the tumultuous thoughts swirling in her mind. She shouldn’t be here, alone with him, especially not after the unsettling events of the night. The memory of being kidnapped still lingered, a shadow she couldn’t quite shake. Yet here she was, caught between propriety and a curiosity she couldn’t ignore. She followed Stan’s inclination and couldn’t help but trust Andre.
Her gaze lingered on his silhouette, how his muscles tensed with each precise movement. He was more than just a doctor; he was an enigma, and she was inexplicably drawn to him. His presence was a strange comfort amidst the cold and the dark.
Andre paused, lifting his eyes to meet hers, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “You shouldn’t have to endure this chill, Thea. It’s not proper for you to be here.”
His words were like a splash of cold water, a reminder of the boundaries she was teetering on. “Proper,” she repeated, almost to herself. The word felt heavy, laden with the expectations she had always known. But something about being with him made her want to defy them.
“I find warmth in different places, it seems,” she replied, her voice softer than she intended.
He raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on his lips. “You find warmth in the strangest places, indeed,” he said, returning to his task. There was a teasing edge to his voice, yet a seriousness that told her he understood more than he let on.
Thea’s heart fluttered at his words, and fear and excitement swirled within her. With Andre, the darkness felt less oppressive, yet the allure of the forbidden danced around them like a dangerous waltz. She was safe yet on the brink of stepping into unknown territories.
As Andre continued to chip away at the ice, Thea realized that the danger might not solely lie in the dark edges of country gardens or shadowy figures. Sometimes, it lay in the quiet moments, the silent exchanges, and the spaces where propriety and desire collided. And she couldn’t deny the thrill of it.
