The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,64

lowered his voice to match hers. “Of course I am not angry with you. Littleton’s desperate. I’ll not allow him to take advantage of this situation. Or you.”

Was she leaning in toward him? Her golden head came dangerously close to grazing the bottom of his chin. The slightest tremble shook her words. “I shudder to know what you think of me.”

Graham indulged himself and studied the long, black lashes that fanned her cheeks as she stared at the ground. What did he think of her? He thought a great many things . . . some of which would not be appropriate to verbalize.

She continued. “Please do not misunderstand me. I am grateful—thrilled—to have my Lucy. But everything else I find . . . I mean, I do not wish to—”

“There is no need for explanations. And as for what I think of you, I think you are brave. Loyal. Determined. Those are admirable qualities, Amelia. This will all pass. And you will be an excellent mother to Lucy. However, I am concerned for you.”

Her lips parted in surprise. “Me?”

Graham nodded. “When all this is passed, when your family departs and I return to sea, you will be alone at Winterwood. What then?”

Her voice sounded confident, but the expression in her eyes suggested otherwise. “I will not be alone. I will have Lucy. I will have the Hammonds . . . and my family. They may be angry, but they will come around, to be sure. And Carrington will be a help, of course.”

But you won’t have me.

Amelia stood so close that all he would have to do is take a half step closer and she would be in his arms. If he did that, would she pull away? His gaze drifted from the top of her golden head to her creamy shoulders.

She seemed so delicate, like a feather. And she was so close. How wrong would it be to touch her cheek or press her hand against his palm? Almost without thinking, he extended his arm to her. She stared at it, then flicked her eyes up to meet his gaze. His blood pounded in his ears as he waited to see if she would take it. She lifted her hand, hesitated, and then rested it on the sleeve of his jacket. At the touch, fire surged up his arm and through his body. Her lip quivered.

A nervous smile played on his lips. He could not control it. Like a puppet master, his emotions seemed in control of his every thought and action.

Amelia looked down at her hand and then away to the ground. With her other hand she brushed the curls from her face, something he’d noticed she did when uncomfortable.

He needed to say something. His words were far from brilliant. “Please, do not worry.”

She nodded and smiled, but he could not guess at what thoughts swirled in her pretty head.

She looked at his lips and then his eyes. “We’d best rejoin the party. We already know the danger that has befallen my reputation as of late. No need to give them any more fuel for that fire.”

“Must we go?”

Each smile she offered renewed his energy. “No doubt we’ve been given a certain leeway as we are soon to be wed, but still it would not do for us to be missing for dinner. I heard Mrs. Hammond and Mrs. Bell discussing our situation. It appears the masses are on our side, for now. No need to tempt fate.”

“Very well. But I give you notice, Amelia Barrett. You have the temptation part right, but my fate has nothing to do with it.”

Across the dinner table, plump Mrs. Mill whispered something to Mrs. Bell, who tittered in response. Jane sat next to Amelia at the end of the table. Mr. Hammond sat at the other, eating his venison soup. Even though nearly fifteen guests separated the long-married vicar and his wife, their expressions connected them. They seemed to communicate with a secret language.

Captain Sterling sat to Amelia’s right, patiently answering Mr. Mill’s questions about how long the war with America might last and whether Napoleon was really secure in his exile on Elba. His head had been turned from her for practically the whole dinner.

It was hard even to imagine that she and the captain would be married in two days’ time. Would she ever enjoy the kind of connection with him that the Hammonds shared? She shifted her eyes from the plate to her intended’s sleeve, not daring to