The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,100

leaned back against the wall with a thud. The scanty wall wobbled with her weight, and at the movement came a sound sweeter than any she had ever heard. A baby’s cry.

“Lucy!” Joy surged through Amelia at the painfully familiar cry. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. She shook the door until her muscles burned with fatigue. “Let me out!”

Laughter rang out once again. She stood back away from the door and stared at her obstacle, her chest heaving with the exertion. She had to get out of there to get to Lucy. Waiting for their laughter to die down, she decided to change her tactic. “I’ll stay in here and will not disturb you. You have my word. Just, please, let the baby come in here with me.”

“Not on yer life, lady.”

Amelia succumbed to the shaking in her legs and slid down the wall. She shivered when she once again heard the sweet cry. It was the cry Lucy gave when she was hungry or tired . . . not scared. At least she was safe. Alive.

Drawing her knees to her chest, Amelia trembled in the dark room. She leaned her forehead against her knees. Tears began, every inch of her body wracked with sobs. Why was this happening? If she ever needed an answer to prayer, it was now, and she assumed God would hear her just as well in this shabby room as in her chamber at Winterwood Manor.

And so she prayed.

Graham shaded his eyes with his hand and glanced up at the noonday sun. Spots of sunlight danced among the ever-present clouds. From where he stood, he could keep an eye on the location where he told William to meet him and the warehouse that Littleton had disappeared into. He scanned the wide, muddy street, looking for William. An hour had passed, and the dock was but a short walk away. What was taking so long?

He returned his attention to the warehouse. As far as he could tell, Littleton had been inside the entire time. To his knowledge, no one had entered. None had exited.

People swarmed the square and wagons lined the streets, making it easy for Graham to remain unnoticed in broad daylight. He leaned against the abandoned cart he had chosen for cover. Had it been a mistake to trust William to get Sulter? His brother hadn’t proved himself to be very trustworthy in the past, but surely he could be trusted on such a simple mission.

Graham pulled his hat low over his eyes. He couldn’t think about that now. It was time for action. He’d prefer to have assistance, but he’d act alone if necessary.

Just as he was about to move toward the building on his own, he saw them. William approached from the right, Sulter following closely, their black and gray coats and low hats blending them into the crowd. Graham straightened as they approached and made room for them behind the cart, looking about to make sure no one saw them gather. He was about to greet them when their expressions made him stop. He straightened. Something was wrong.

“What is it?”

Sulter gave a quick glance over to William before speaking. “It’s Miss Barrett, Graham. She’s gone.”

The words didn’t make sense. “What do you mean, gone?”

Sulter pressed his lips together before speaking. “She and my Becky went to the market. When Becky came out of the butcher shop, Miss Barrett wasn’t there. She asked around and was told by an onlooker that two men grabbed Miss Barrett. But nobody saw where they took her.”

Fierce panic seized Graham as Sulter’s words scorched his ears. Amelia? If it had been any other man besides Sulter, he would not believe the words. His eyes darted to his brother, whose somber expression confirmed what he’d heard. Graham sucked in a sharp breath. “I told her not to leave.”

Sulter stretched out his hands as if to calm Graham. “We went to the scene, but we found nothing.”

Graham had seen many battles. He was no stranger to danger and fear. But he also knew it was crucial to stay calm in the face of the enemy. But never before had an attack been so personal. First Lucy. Now Amelia. His heart was unversed in how to react. “Littleton’s behind this.”

Graham cast a quick glance back at the warehouse where Littleton had disappeared. Lucy, Mrs. Dunne, and Amelia were all in danger—if not worse. He flexed his scarred hand, and then he noticed it. Someone was absent. “Where’s