The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,36
wind and the wild pulsing of her heart.
“I need to speak with you about Lucy.” Captain Sterling sat down beside her. “I have decided where she will live when I return to my duties.”
Amelia held her breath.
He leaned his elbows on his knees and looked at her with intense gray eyes. “She must live with you.”
Had she heard him correctly? “Are you saying—”
He lifted a gloved hand. “Before we go any further, I need to know that you fully understand the implications.”
“What do you mean?”
He tented his fingers and stared at them. “Your uncle is a proud man, Miss Barrett. Have you considered the consequences of going against his wishes?”
She lowered her gaze, now grateful for the darkness.
He continued, his voice low. “I don’t mean to upset you, but I must, in good conscience, advise you to consider all outcomes. I must leave in a few weeks. You will be on your own to deal with any repercussions at Winterwood.”
She chose her words thoughtfully. “You must believe me that I have played this out in my mind many times. I certainly do not anticipate an easy transition. My uncle, no doubt, wishes to maintain some control of my inheritance. I imagine my aunt is more concerned with what damage this might do to Helena’s chances of finding a suitable match than with my happiness. So I do not doubt there will be uncomfortable moments between us, but I believe they will come around in time. They are, after all, my family, and Helena and I have been like sisters.”
He stepped closer to the bench, rolling his hat in his hands. “It’s not just your family, Miss Barrett. Edward Littleton is a volatile man. Are you prepared for his reaction?”
Amelia drew an unsteady breath. This, indeed, was what concerned her most. She’d once believed, despite Edward’s ambition and his unpredictability, that he was a kindhearted man. Only recently had she seen his cruel side, his selfish disregard for anyone’s desires but his own.
A sharp wind gust swept in, catching the folds of her cape in its billows. She settled her cape and wrapped it tightly. “I thought that Edward Littleton loved me, but time has opened my eyes to his true motivations. My inheritance, Captain Sterling, is no secret. Edward will be livid, to be sure, if I break our engagement, but it will be because he lost money, not because he lost me. And to answer your question, I do fear his reaction, initially at least, but he is a proud man. I believe, knowing Edward’s nature as I do, that he will prefer to avoid scandal and will not publicize the news.”
Captain Sterling studied her face. His presence did not unnerve her as it once did. But even under the cover of darkness, she feared too many of her thoughts would write themselves on her expression.
He sat down next to her on the bench, so close she could feel the warmth radiating from his body. “And the money?”
Reality returned with a vengeance. The money. “What of it?”
“If we proceed with this course of action, I am well aware of what will be said. But let it be known that I do not need your money, nor do I desire the trials that can accompany a large fortune.” He lowered his voice. “I do not tell you this out of pride, Miss Barrett. My profession is a dangerous one. I may very well leave Darbury and never return, so I need to know my daughter will be cared for. That she will be loved. I trust you in this regard, but it is important that you trust me in return. Your money is yours. I will not touch it. Just care for my daughter.”
Her eyebrows shot up. Had she heard him correctly? For as long as she could remember, she’d been told her fortune was the key to finding a suitable match. She could only mutter, “Thank you.”
He stood up from the bench and looked at her for a long moment. She shifted under the weight of his stare. A smile finally crossed his face.
“Well then.” Captain Sterling knelt and picked up her hand from her lap. She jumped at the intimacy of the touch.
“Amelia Barrett, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
Amelia closed the door without a sound and stood perfectly still, listening to make sure the servants were not about. Once certain that she was alone, she leaned her forehead against the door’s rough wood