The Heiress of Winterwood

by Sarah Ladd

  He flipped the note over, looking for more clues, but that was it. No signature. No other information. Nothing more than messy marks on a crumpled piece of paper. He smoothed the note out on his knee, then folded it as neatly as his still-numb fingers could manage.

  George’s Dock. Liverpool. Yes, he knew the place well, and the very thought of his daughter in such a place made his blood run cold.

  He eyed each man in the room with suspicion. Someone was after a fortune—either his prize money or Amelia’s inheritance—and would clearly stop at nothing to obtain it. His instinct was to discover the man’s identity, hunt him down, and bring him to justice. The thought of giving in to the demands of a lunatic and simply handing over money went against the grain. But in this case, his daughter’s safety trumped his need for justice. He would gladly surrender his last farthing if it meant holding his daughter in his arms once more.

  Across the room, Singleton signaled his departure and called to Graham. “You know where to find me, should you need me.”

  Graham nodded and stood. “Thank you for your help, Singleton. It was much appreciated.”

  The man shoved his hat on his wet head and stepped toward Graham. “Wish I could have done more. Best of luck.” He turned to leave, then hesitated. “You’re sure you’re not in need of further assistance?”

  Graham shook his head. The last thing he needed was someone else slowing him down. “I have a connection in Liverpool. He’ll give me all the help I need. I’m sure of it.”

  The heavyset constable shifted his weight and glanced around the room. “Surely your brother will accompany you.”

  “No, I’ll go alone.” Graham didn’t miss the older man’s surprised expression.

  Singleton took his leave and Graham returned to his chair, content to be alone with his thoughts. To his left, Carrington and Mr. Hammond recounted the events of the day. Near the door, Miss Helena Barrett sat conversing with Edward Littleton. Graham scowled at the sight of Littleton. Despite the man’s help this morning, Graham’s instinct to avoid him was as strong as it had been the day he met him. Perhaps Littleton’s efforts to help find the child were sincere. Perhaps not. But something seemed amiss.

  He tore his gaze away just in time to see Amelia enter the room with swift and determined steps. He stood when she entered, and from the corner of his eye he saw Littleton do the same. But he was the one Amelia’s eyes sought out, and she was by his side in seconds.

  The expression flushing Amelia’s face was anything but congenial. “Tell me. What is going on?”

  He’d hoped to come up with a softer way to deliver the news. The room fell silent, as if all anticipated his response. She had not yet read the letter, so he extended it to her, watching as she devoured the contents. Her face paled, and her free hand flew to her mouth.

  “George’s Dock. Where is that?”

  “Liverpool.”

  After a moment of agonizing silence, she spoke. “We must do as they say. We must go to Liverpool.”

  “I must go to Liverpool,” he corrected. “You must stay here in case they return.”

  “I think not! I have every intention of accompanying you. Lucy will need me once you find her.” She turned to Carrington. “How soon can you retrieve the money?”

  Graham shifted his weight. “Listen to me. The letter instructs me to come alone, and come alone I shall.”

  “But I know I can be of assistance. And if I remain here, I shall go mad.”

  Though her voice was firm, he saw tears in her eyes, and he felt himself weakening. But he wouldn’t risk disregarding the kidnapper’s instructions. “It’s a long journey to Liverpool, and I can travel faster alone.” He turned to Carrington. “You say you have access to the amount requested?”

  Carrington nodded. “I do.”

  “Good.” Graham fidgeted with his glove. “I do not think I could gather so large a sum in such a short period of time, at least without a visit to London first.”

  Amelia’s face flushed. “If you think for a single moment that I am going to stay here and do nothing while some barbarian holds my child and my friend captive, then—”

  “Liverpool is no place for you. Trust me.”

  “But I—”

  “No.”

  She opened her mouth with an obvious intent to protest further. Graham silenced her by holding up his index finger. “One mistake. That is all it takes for us to never see Lucy or Mrs. Dunne again. I do not like those odds, so I plan to comply with this lunatic’s request. Am I clear?”

  Amelia moved and blocked his path. “I’m not unreasonable. I promise, once we are there I will leave the rescuing to you. But I cannot stay here and wait. I simply cannot.”

  He glanced around the room at their audience. Mr. Hammond and Carrington stared. Looks of shock plastered the faces of Amelia’s aunt and cousin. Even Littleton, who had not ceased talking and sharing his opinion the entire morning, was quiet.

  Graham snatched his hat and jammed it on his head. “I am sorry. My answer is no.”

  “Amelia, put those down this instant.”

  Amelia ignored Jane’s plea and handed Elizabeth a pair of slippers. Captain Sterling had told her before he left for Eastmore Hall that he would return in a few hours to retrieve the money from Mr. Carrington. When he arrived, she’d be ready to go too.

  Amelia pointed to the wardrobe. “No, not that dress, Elizabeth. The blue sprigged muslin. It’s lighter and will take up less room.” Amelia tossed Elizabeth a shawl and rolled her stockings as tightly as she could get them. She didn’t travel often, but when she did, it was never without several trunks. But this was an extreme circumstance, and she needed to travel lightly. She needed to prove to Captain Sterling that she would not be a hindrance.

  Jane took the rolled stockings from Amelia’s hand. “This is ridiculous, and right now I am questioning your sanity. This is not a pleasure trip. These are real, dangerous people. Not only will you be putting Lucy’s and Mrs. Dunne’s lives in further danger, you’ll be risking your own as well, and your presence could well endanger Captain Sterling in his efforts to retrieve them. I cannot stand by and allow you to do this.”

  Amelia concentrated on the task of gathering her comb and lavender water. “I’m sorry, Jane. This is something I must do. If the captain refuses to allow me to accompany him, I will take the carriage on my own.”

  Jane removed the items from Amelia’s trunk as quickly as she could pack them. “This entire situation is beyond you, Amelia. You cannot resolve every issue on your own. Do not try. Right now you need to spend your time in prayer and let Captain Sterling do what he needs to do to retrieve Lucy. He’s a strong man and a brave one. He’s battled people like this before. He knows what to do.”

  Amelia refused to look Jane in the eye. “But Lucy will need me.”

  “She will need you just as much when she returns. And think about Captain Sterling. He will have quite enough to worry about without watching over you as well.”

  “I don’t care. And before you begin lecturing me about prayer, God doesn’t seem to be listening to me much of late, now, does he?”

  Amelia regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. They were not true, and she knew they would hurt her friend. But at this point, she didn’t know what else to do. She turned toward Elizabeth. “Help me change into the gray traveling dress, will you?”

  Despite Amelia’s biting words, Jane continued with her protest. “It’s not just that, Amelia. You simply cannot travel alone with Captain Sterling. You are not yet wed, remember. And the thought of taking the carriage alone is simply absurd!”

  Amelia turned to allow Elizabeth access to her buttons. Her words were half-sarcastic, half-serious. “It will not be entirely improper. We shall have the footmen and the coachmen, after all. But if it concerns you so, then come with me.”

  Graham shoved an extra pair of deerskin breeches into his satchel and looked around his bedchamber. What had he forgotten? He’d grabbed extra cl
othes. All the money in his possession. His pistol. Ammunition. A stack of papers and letters. The marriage license. Anything that was of any importance to the situation, he’d stuffed into his drawstring sack. If successful, the trip to Liverpool would not be a long one, but he wanted to be prepared. If he hurried, and if the weather and roads cooperated, he could arrive in Deerbruck by nightfall. And then, if he left at dawn, he’d reach Liverpool by tomorrow afternoon. In two days’ time, he could have Lucy in his arms and be on his way back to Darbury.

  When everything he would need was neatly packed and ready for the journey, he slung the cinched sack and satchel over his shoulder and pulled the bedchamber door closed behind him. His footsteps echoed in the empty corridor.

  He had not seen nor heard from William since they’d argued the night before. Where was his brother? And could he possibly have had a part in the kidnapping? Graham hated to even consider the idea, but William had been so angry, so desperate. So drunk. And Graham had to consider all the possibilities, no matter how repugnant.

  At the moment, however, he needed to be on his way. He could wait no longer for his brother to find his way home and explain himself. The day’s light would not last forever.

  Outside, the brisk wind disrupted his hat and tugged at his greatcoat. The threat of yet another downpour hastened his steps. He could not lose any time because of the weather.

  The groom had readied his no-name horse, and the pair was waiting for him just behind Eastmore’s gravel drive. “He’s ready.”

  Graham patted the horse’s flank with his gloved hand. “Do you think he’ll make it?”

  The groom tilted his head and studied the animal. “I think so. Deerbruck’s not so far, and Liverpool’s but a half day’s ride beyond that. And this horse is dependable enough once you get him going. But if you’re unsure, I can saddle another. No sense wondering.”

  Graham shook his head. He didn’t like the idea of taking another horse. This unnamed beast was his, and the two of them had formed a bond of sorts. He’d done well on the journey home to Lucy, and with any kind of luck, this animal would carry him to her again. “No, I’ll take this one.”

  The groom flipped the horse’s reins over the animal’s head. “As you wish.”

  Graham tied his sack behind the horse’s saddle and filled the saddlebags. “Any sign of William?”

  “I have not seen him, sir. His horse isn’t in his stall.”

  Graham looked around. “Is this normal for my brother?”

  The man shrugged, obviously unwilling to comment on his master’s habits, and returned his attention to the animal.

  Graham tightened the leather strap to secure his pack to the back of the saddle. Above him distant thunder growled. The horse shifted as Graham stuck his booted foot in the stirrup and swung his leg over.

  Graham settled himself in the saddle and leaned toward the animal’s ear. “We’ve a long journey. You aren’t going to let me down, are you?”

  The horse flung his head and pawed at the ground, a contrary expression in his eye, but Graham had learned over the past weeks that the animal’s protests usually came to nothing.

  “If you are to be my partner, you must have a name. So . . . what’ll it be?”

  The animal didn’t answer, except to swish his tail and nod his big head once more toward the right.

  “That’s it, then. You’re a seaman’s horse. We’ll call you Starboard.”

  With a click of his tongue and a kick of his heel, the pair departed for Winterwood Manor.

  This sensation of urgency was a familiar one. Before every battle it pushed Graham to be braver. Stronger. Faster. But today he was not fighting an enemy ship. Today the battle engaging him was much more personal, the risk far greater.

  He rolled his neck and arched his back to loosen the knotted kinks that had formed. The noon hour had not yet arrived, and already his body felt weary. With a slight tug of the reins he guided Starboard around the curve to the shortcut through Sterling Wood. Ahead, at the forest’s edge, the trees parted to a clearing. He paused at the hill’s crest to survey 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?”

  Amelia shrugged. “Until my aunt and uncle depart for London.”

  “When will that be?”

  She looked down at the ground. “Their plans were to leave after I wed, but now, with the changes, I—”

  She didn’t need to finish her sentence. He understood her meaning.

  He looked down at Amelia, and something inside him began to soften. He quickly checked himself. Romantic whims only led to weakness and heartache, and he could afford neither at this time. But the blond tendrils blowing in the wind, the pink curve of her lips, and the determination in her expression all contributed to his growing desire to keep her close.

  It wasn’t just that she was hard to refuse, though she was. The reality was that someone was willing to do almost anything for money—even kidnap a baby—and that person could easily be in this house. Right now everyone was a suspect: George Barrett, Edward Littleton, even his own brother. With that in mind, how could he possibly leave Amelia here alone?

  Blast it all. What other choice did he have?

  Amelia awoke to the sounds of shouts outside the carriage. The vehicle jerked and started to slow, but she didn’t open her eyes until the carriage stopped and its wheels settled in the ruts. Amelia sat up, straightened, and rubbed her hand over her face. She reached over to Jane and shook her arm. “Jane, Jane, wake up. We’ve arrived.”

  After indulging in a yawn and a catlike stretch, Amelia tightened the traveling blanket around her shoulders and leaned to look out the window. A two-story, U-shaped building stretched to the night sky. Freestanding torches flanked the main entrance, and cheery lights flickered in the numerous windows, spilling their yellow glow onto the freshly fallen snow.