The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,81
the Winterwood estate below him. Clouds cast a patchwork pattern on the shadowed landscape and dimmed the south gardens. Soon he’d be master of everything as far as he could see. But none of that mattered—not without Lucy.
Poised on Winterwood’s main drive was a black coach with two pairs of matching bays in harness. He urged his horse forward, his eyes fixed on the carriage. As he drew closer, he saw Amelia, cloaked in a scarlet cape, talking to a coachman. The coach dog circled the horses, barking and wagging his tail.
Graham didn’t stop the horse until he was next to Amelia. She pushed back her fur-lined hood and looked up at him. “Oh, thank goodness. You’ve arrived.”
He slid from the horse and nodded toward the carriage. “What’s this doing here?”
Her gaze flicked from him, to the carriage, and back again. “The carriage? For our journey, of course.”
“Our journey?” Had she heard nothing he said earlier? “No, Amelia.” He stepped toward her, eyed the coachman, and lowered his voice. “You cannot go with me.”
“I must.”
“I told you earlier, it’s too dangerous.”
“And I told you earlier that I do not mind. I am going.”
Determination stained her cheeks with a vibrant flush made even more intense by the bright hue of her cape. Did he really expect her to act any differently? Her actions had already proved her a resolved, headstrong woman. But this teetered on the edge of recklessness. If she wouldn’t regard her physical safety, then he would.
“Where do you want this, miss?” A maid approached with a bag.
Amelia pointed. “Give it to the coachman.”
Graham nodded toward the bag. “What’s that for?”
“For the inn, of course.”
“The inn?”
“We’ll have to sleep somewhere tonight.”
This had gone on long enough. He leaned in and lowered his voice. If he couldn’t reason with her, he’d appeal to her sense of morality. “We are not yet married. We can hardly go on a trip alone.”
“Ah, but we won’t be alone. Mrs. Hammond has kindly consented to accompany us. And of course we’ll have the footmen and the coachmen.”
Graham opened his mouth, but before he could protest, she added, “Oh, I almost forgot.”
She fished around in the fold of her cloak and produced a green velvet drawstring purse.
“What’s that?”
Her eyes were innocent. “Uncle George was reluctant, but Mr. Carrington was able to get him to come around. After all, how would it look if he did not agree to pay for the ransom when the kidnapping took place here at Winterwood?”
“Am I to understand that you have two thousand in there?”
“Well, not entirely, but Mr. Carrington should be back directly with the balance.”
He took the money from her, surprised—yet grateful—that they had such a sum on hand. Then he placed a hand on her shoulder and bent down to look her square in the eye. “Listen to me, Amelia. I understand your desire to accompany me, but you must stay here. The journey is long, and I’ll not risk another life that I—” He hesitated, choosing his words. “I cannot risk anything else happening.”
He turned to walk away, but Amelia grabbed his sleeve and stopped him. He drew a deep breath and turned, preparing to repeat himself, but the fear in her eyes halted him.
“Captain Sterling, Lucy may not be my natural daughter, but I love her as if she were. Like you, I will not rest until I hold her in my arms and she once again sleeps in her own bed here. I don’t know why this happened. All I know is that I will do anything, go anywhere, to have her back with me, and I simply cannot stay here and wait when there is the slightest chance that I could help. I’m telling you, I will go. The only question is whether I will go with you or make the journey on my own.”
Graham swallowed and stared into her blue eyes. What spell did this woman cast over him? He wanted to let her have her way. But could he allow her to risk her own safety? Before he left, he’d sent a letter to Stephen Sulter to inform him that he was coming to Liverpool. Sulter had a wife and grown children. Perhaps Amelia could stay with them while he searched for his daughter.
A movement over Amelia’s shoulder caught his eye, and he glanced to the drawing room window. Framed in the paned glass, Edward Littleton looked out, watching them.
Graham nodded toward Littleton. “How long does he intend to stay?”