The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,77
the men. Captain Sterling. Mr. Dunne. Her heart dropped. No Mrs. Dunne. And if Mrs. Dunne wasn’t with them, neither was Lucy.
The rain ran down her neck and drenched her hair, but she didn’t return to the house. She searched the faces of the returning men, looking for clues, but saw only severe, stony expressions.
“What did you learn? Where is Lucy?”
No one responded. Exasperated, she freed the wet fabric of her skirt from clinging to her legs and hurried toward the approaching horses.
Captain Sterling pulled his horse away from the group and dismounted. He tossed the reins over the animal’s head and gathered them in his gloved hands. “What are you doing out here? You’ll catch your—”
“Please tell me you found something. Anything.” She stepped closer and grabbed at the horse’s bridle. “Please, I must know.”
His response was short. “We found nothing.”
“But where’s the boy?”
“We let him go.”
Blind panic surged in her heart. “You let him go? Why would you do that?”
Captain Sterling fiddled with his saddle, the gathering rain streaming down the folds of his coat. “He knew nothing.”
He wheeled his horse and started toward the house. She wished he would stop walking. She wished he’d look at her. Anything. But his eyes stayed focused straight ahead.
“How can you be certain? Someone paid him to bring a letter here. How could he not know anything?”
Captain Sterling wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, further spreading the dirt that had been flung onto his face during the ride. “He didn’t. He was just a boy trying to earn some money.”
If only they had let her go, she would have gotten the answers out of him. With every step and every word uttered, her irritation increased. “Well, perhaps if Mr. Singleton hadn’t been so cruel to the child, he would have been a little more accommodating.”
He shook his head, still not looking at her. “Mr. Singleton did what he needed to do to get an answer.”
Amelia almost had to jog to keep up with the horse’s gait. She lifted her sodden skirt to keep from tripping. “But to let him go! He knows what the man looked like. He knows where the man was last seen, he knows—”
Finally Captain Sterling stopped the horse and turned the full brunt of his steely gaze onto her. “Listen to me. Pursuing that boy further would have gotten us nowhere. So what would you have proposed? That we continue to question him until he was beside himself and confessed to a crime he did not commit? Gave us false information that would take us down a wrong path and cost us hours of valuable time? I daresay I have dealt with a few more questionable characters in my day than you, so I suggest you leave this to me.”
She stood dumbstruck as he gave the animal’s reins a yank and continued to walk. She didn’t know whether to be offended at his curt reply or ashamed for questioning him. Finally she tugged her soggy, cold shawl about her shoulders and trotted to catch up with him. “So what do we do now?”
He tossed the reins to a stable boy and let her enter Winterwood before following her in. “First, you need to change clothes. The last thing we need is for you to fall ill. Then come back down, and I will share my plan.”
Graham downed a dram of brandy, hoping the amber liquid would warm his insides. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so cold. He recalled one black night in the dead of last winter when he’d sat out with his watchman, looking for enemy ships in the opaque fog. He had been so alert, so certain that the enemy would try to use the fog to conceal their location. But he’d been wrong. That night had been a waste, just as this morning had been.
The boy knew nothing. He was just a frightened child trying to earn a shilling. Nearly two hours later they were no closer to finding Lucy than when they had left.
Graham carried a chair over to the fireplace and sat down. He knew what he needed to do. He’d informed Singleton of the plan to go to Liverpool and managed to keep Littleton and George Barrett as far at bay as possible. But now he needed to tell Amelia.
The fire was welcome, but no amount of heat could ease the iciness gathering around his heart. His soul. His body ached from the ride, and