The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,31
proposal to the captain. About her heartbreak over losing Lucy. But the words just would not form.
Jane didn’t push her. “This must be very distressing to you. I know how much you care for Lucy. But sometimes things happen that are beyond our control. But God has a plan, dearest. He has a plan for you and for Lucy.”
Amelia sniffed and shook her head. “I don’t believe it. How could that be so? God would take a child away from the one person who loves her?”
“You assume Captain Sterling doesn’t love Lucy?”
“How could he?” Amelia retorted. “He’s barely met her. Besides, he’ll be gone for months—years—at a time! Katherine knew that. That is why she had me promise—”
“This is where trust comes in. You have done everything you can possibly do. You must accept that God’s hand is in all things. He will not leave you nor forsake you, Amelia. He will not leave nor forsake Lucy.”
Amelia bolted from her chair and crossed the room. She wanted to believe Jane. She did. Her Bible reading from earlier in the day rushed to the forefront of her mind. But what if she did trust God and Lucy was still taken from her? She could not take that chance.
Jane stood and crossed after her. “Calm yourself, dearest. Things may not be as dire as you think. The captain, by all accounts, is a fine, respectable man, and he seems to be a good one as well. I feel certain he will listen to reason.” She produced a lace handkerchief from a drawer and handed it to Amelia. “Dusk will fall soon. You need to go home, get a good night’s sleep. Then we will sort this out together. All right?”
Amelia nodded and allowed Jane to fold her into an embrace.
“Have faith, dearest,” Jane whispered. “You are not alone.”
It was not a falsehood. Not exactly.
Aunt Augusta crossed her arms over her ample bosom and glared at Amelia. The last rays of the setting sun filtered through the drawing room’s west window and sparkled on the topaz pendant about her aunt’s neck. “A headache?”
Amelia nodded, resisting the urge to look at the ground.
Aunt Augusta shook her head. “I declare, I do not know what has gotten into you the past few days. You’re as flighty as I don’t know what. And sullen. Poor Mr. Littleton has traveled all this way to see you, only to be told you will not be at dinner because your head aches?”
Amelia clasped her hands behind her like a child being scolded. “I suppose nerves are getting the best of me.”
Augusta tapped her long fingers on the gossamer overlay on her sleeve. “Very well. Against my better judgment I will give Mr. Littleton your regrets.” She turned to leave but paused at the threshold. “I’ve never attempted to mother you, Amelia. Perhaps I was wrong in that. But I’d be remiss if I did not remind you what a fortunate young woman you are. Mr. Littleton is well worth having, not to mention well connected. You’re close to changing your situation for the better. Consider your actions. Do not give him cause for doubt.”
And with those final words, her aunt disappeared in the hall.
Amelia almost laughed. Consider her actions? Not give Edward cause for doubt?
She had no fear Edward would break the engagement. He would not risk the scandal . . . or the money. But her aunt’s words held truth. Whether Amelia liked it or not, time was running short. She would turn twenty-four in just shy of two months, and if she was not married by that time, Winterwood would pass to another. At this late date, she had little choice but to marry Edward.
Amelia moved to the desk, thinking of Jane’s advice. “Accept that God’s hand is in all things.” But it had never been that simple for her.
She retrieved her father’s Bible and moved to pick up her book of Psalms, but the smaller book was not in its normal place. She felt around for it deeper in the drawer but could find it nowhere. Assuming she had left it in her bedroom, she tucked the Bible under her arm and took the servants’ stairs to the second floor.
The day’s sun had warmed her bedchamber, and the warmth remained as night descended. She flung herself on the high bed and stared at its elegant draped canopy, trying to sort out all the thoughts and feelings that bombarded her. Nothing came clear, so she sat up