The Heiress of Winterwood - By Sarah Ladd Page 0,95

he keeping something from her? She noted the lines on his face, the tension tightening his mouth. He’d tried so hard to protect her the past few days. Would he withhold information to keep from upsetting her further?

She sat down next to him, careful to keep a respectable distance. The urge to pepper him with questions was strong, but she held her tongue. What had Jane said? “You will have a very lonely life if you refuse to let others in because you are afraid that you will lose them.”

She pushed her hair from her face. She wanted to bring him comfort, as he had her. But what could she do?

“You look exhausted. You should sleep.” Amelia’s voice sounded small in the still silence.

He shifted his weight and balanced his elbows on his knees, a lock of dark hair falling with rogue defiance across his forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

The broad smile from earlier in the day flashed through her mind. She missed the easier tone she’d heard at their engagement dinner. His voice was heavy now. Defeated.

Graham turned his eyes from the fire to look at her, but his expression was distant. He let out a long, disgusted sigh and rubbed his hand over two days’ worth of stubble. “We wasted the day. And found nothing.”

At the short words, panic flooded Amelia. She tapped her hands nervously on the wool fabric of her skirt. If Graham lost hope, what chance did they have?

With the exception of the waning fire glow, the room was dark. Made bolder by the stillness, Amelia leaned toward him. She allowed her eyes to linger on his striking features. His straight nose. Full lips. And despite the worry about Lucy, her heart responded to his nearness. What would his strong arms feel like secured around her shoulders? What would it feel like to rest her hand in his, to let him share her fear? Help carry her painful burden?

The pain in his eyes hurt her, and guilt over her actions rose to the surface. “I owe you an apology.”

The expression in his eyes changed to confusion. “For what?”

Amelia toyed with the fringe on her shawl and wove it through her fingers, the weight of emotions she did not quite understand pressing on her chest. “I have been so consumed with my own desires and fears that I have been blind to a great many things going on around me. It was wrong of me to get so angry that night after the dinner at the Hammonds’. You had every right to ask any manner of questions, especially considering our future. I am sorry I behaved so poorly.”

Graham raked his fingers through his dark hair. “Our future? I thought we had a business arrangement.”

A flush rushed to her cheeks, the tease a welcome release from the suffocating tension. She eyed the mystery of a man in front of her, searching for meaning in his words. “One day Lucy will be home, and we will marry, and then—”

“We shall be a family.” His large hand covered hers. He squeezed it ever so gently, then laced his fingers through hers.

Amelia tried to think of something to say, but at the touch, her mind blanked. She could only stare at their intertwined hands—his so strong, hers small in comparison.

Her gaze fell on the shiny purple scar that crossed his hand and disappeared under his cuff. In this moment of connectedness, she felt a rising courage. She lifted her other hand and ran a finger along the scar. He jumped at her touch, almost as if he’d forgotten it was there.

“When did this happen?” she asked softly.

Graham straightened but did not pull away. “Last summer.”

She looked back down. “How?”

“During battle.”

His clipped words made it clear he’d not discuss the topic further. She could only guess as to what horrors Graham had witnessed—horrors that she, in her sheltered world, could never imagine. She moved to pull her hand away, but he caught it in his, turned it over, and wrapped rough, warm fingers around hers. Fire exploded in her at the intimacy.

He rubbed his thumb against the palm of her hand. His words were low. “I couldn’t predict it, just as neither of us could have foreseen Lucy’s kidnapping.”

Amelia barely heard his words over the erratic beating of her heart. She couldn’t look away.

“My years at sea have taught me—and I have been reminded tonight—that we cannot control everything around us. We all will answer for what we do, including this blackguard