The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,38

that so? Well then, I fault myself entirely for the misunderstanding. I’ll not deny our relationship has changed over the past several months, but I thought you might care to know my thoughts on something as important as your future husband.”

Helena’s argument fanned Amelia’s frustration. Nobody knew better than Helena how to twist words to their advantage. How could she make Helena see beyond Edward’s façade? “Helena, don’t be absurd. Of course I value your opinion. But you must trust that I know Edward’s character better than you do, and I am acutely aware of the possible repercussions of my actions.”

Helena tossed her russet braid over her shoulder. “Have you really considered what will be said if you cut Edward loose now? Father will be furious. Surely you don’t expect me to lie to him and pretend that—”

“I’m not asking you to lie. Can’t you see what I am trying to do? Can’t you see why this is important? I promised Katherine—”

Helena jumped up from the bed, her fists balled at her sides. “Will you stop falling back on that excuse?” Helena’s sudden passion on the subject caught Amelia off guard, rendering her almost speechless. “Are you prepared to throw away your reputation, your chance at happiness, your very future, for someone else’s child? For a promise made when your sensibilities were weakened with grief?”

Amelia took Helena’s hand in hers, half expecting her to pull it away. She did not. “I know you don’t understand what I am doing, but trust me. And as far as Edward is concerned, believe me when I say that he is not the man he professes to be.”

Now Helena jerked her hand away. “Unbelievable. How quickly you turn on those who care for you.” She pushed past Amelia and headed toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To bed.” She stopped at the threshold, placed her hand on the knob, and turned back to Amelia. “But know this, Amelia Barrett. I will no longer be party to this misguided plan of yours. You are on your own.”

Amelia put her hand on the door. “You must tell no one of this, Helena. Not yet. Please.”

Helena hesitated. “I will not, for I hope you will have a change of heart. But do not forget, Amelia, that I, too, hope to marry one day soon. What will happen when news gets out that my own cousin called off her engagement so close to the date? We—I—will be the joke of society. I’ll have little chance of an advantageous match if my family is involved in such scandal.”

Without waiting for a response, Helena left.

Amelia’s ears rang. She didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt. But as Amelia stared at the empty space where Helena had been, she realized the truth to her cousin’s words. The repercussions would certainly extend to those closest to her, and Helena might well suffer most from the consequences of Amelia’s actions. The thought of causing her cousin pain brought a pang of regret, but Amelia was too far down the path for a change of heart now. She had no choice but to marry the captain.

After returning Captain Sterling’s note to her book of Psalms, she peeled the damp dress from her body and pulled her nightdress over her head. She curled up next to her fireplace and, with her poker, prodded the fire back to life. Unease and uncertainty pushed at the joy in her heart. She stared unblinking at the leaping flames.

Dear God, I have done the right thing . . . have I not?

With buoyant steps, Graham strode out of the Doctor’s Commons building in London. His journey had been long and tiring, but well worth the effort.

The need to minimize scandal and the delicate time frame made it impractical to wait for wedding banns to be read, so a special license from the Archbishop of Canterbury was the only viable option for marrying Miss Barrett. Unfortunately, Edward Littleton had announced plans to obtain a special license for himself within the next few weeks, and Littleton was currently in London on business. Concern that the man might already have applied for the license had nagged Graham every mile of the journey from Darbury. But the application process had proceeded without a hitch. He had beaten Littleton to the punch.

With the special license in hand, Graham and Miss Barrett could now be wed at any time, by any member of the clergy. He only hoped he could return to Darbury and marry

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