The Heiress of Winterwood (30 page)

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?

A
melia 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.

She felt Jane lean over her shoulder. “Is this where we are staying, or are we just changing the horses?”

“It’s too dark to go any farther. Not a bit of moonlight.” Amelia squinted to read the words carved into an aged, rectangular sign. “Eagledale Inn.”

The outlines of horses and men passed in front of her view, painting shadows against sides of the building. Muted music and laughter floated on the night air. The sound seemed to be coming from outside and to the left. She craned her neck to see if she could find the source, but none was visible.

The carriage door unlatched and swung open, and an icy blast swirled through the opening. After hours in the jerky carriage, the wind’s wintry bite invigorated her. A ripple of excitement tickled her stomach. The inn marked the halfway mark on their journey to Liverpool. They were that much closer to Lucy.

Captain Sterling removed his hat to duck inside the coach. He had decided to ride his horse alongside the carriage. When his hand rested on hers, Amelia jumped.

He clasped her fingers. “I’m going to go check on rooms. Don’t move or talk to anyone. The coachmen will stay with you.” Captain Sterling closed the door behind him, and she heard the click of the latch. She watched his form turn to a silhouette against the window light and then disappear through the door.

Amelia leaned back against the seat. Her eyes burned from crying, her muscles ached from several hours of jerky travel, and her body cried out for sleep. She thought of Lucy and Mrs. Dunne. Were they cold? Hungry? Uncomfortable? The very thought made her stomach turn. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tufted brocade. Now not only was Lucy heaven knows where, but she herself was hours away from home.

Jane and Amelia sat in silence until Captain Sterling opened the carriage door again.

“The inn is pretty full, but I was able to get us two rooms. You ladies will share one on the second floor. One of the coachmen is already taking your things up. Come, I’ll escort you.”

He extended his arm, and Amelia took it. Her legs were unsteady and stiff after hours of sleep and travel, and she almost
stumbled on the narrow carriage steps. With her free hand she looped her cape hood over her head and then clung to his arm with both hands. The air carried pungent scents of horses, manure, and straw, causing her nose to wrinkle. The icy snow crunched under her half boots as they walked to the door. For once she was grateful that her feet were practically frozen; otherwise she might protest the pain of the sharp gravel beneath her thin soles.

Some of the inn’s male guests exited the building as they walked to the front door. Feeling their stares, Amelia cast a quick glance back at Jane and tightened her grip on Captain Sterling’s arm. He walked as if unconcerned, his breath fogging the cold night air. Amelia swallowed a lump of trepidation and tried to ignore the questionable-looking people they passed. She was far from Winterwood Manor indeed.

Once inside, Amelia was grateful for the heat, but the smell was not much improved. The scent of burnt meat and stale straw met her nose. The sounds of voices and music were louder.

She leaned toward her escort. “Where is all the noise coming from?”

He finally looked down at her. Dark circles underlined his tired eyes, and the start of a beard shadowed his cheeks and chin. “There’s a dining hall through that door, but it is no place for you. I’ve ordered something for you and Mrs. Hammond to eat. It should be brought up shortly.”

Still clinging to his arm, eyes wide, she allowed him to lead her up a narrow staircase and down a dimly lit hallway. The smell of stale straw was worse here, and she held a handkerchief up to her nose. Six doors lined the dark corridor, and he led her to the one on the right at the end. He stuck a key in the lock, turned it, and gave it a good shake. The lock popped, and the door swung open.

She stared at her sparse surroundings. The room, barely large
enough for the three of them to stand in together, felt dank and dark.

Captain Sterling knelt at the fireplace and poked at the kindling with the poker. “I had them start you a fire—if you want to call this a fire.” He added more kindling and blew on it. “But at least you have a little light and warmth, which is more than I can say for the other patrons.”

Amelia’s eyes widened. “You mean some of the rooms don’t even have a fireplace?”

He shook his head. “I told you this would be different from what you are accustomed to.”

She watched silently as he coerced the sputtering fire to a healthy flame. Once the fire allowed for a better look at the room, she removed her hood and surveyed her surroundings. One bed with a lumpy mattress butted up against the far wall. A single wardrobe chest stood next to a skinny window. Two wooden chairs and a rickety table edged close to the fireplace, and beneath her feet stretched a minuscule, well-worn rug. Nothing hung on the walls, with the exception of two wooden hooks next to the door.

Minutes later a kitchen maid appeared with a tray of food and tea. She set the tray on the table, bobbed a curtsy, and left. Amelia removed her damp cape from her shoulders and hung it on a hook to dry. Every part of her was cold.

She moved next to Captain Sterling at the fire. He poked the coals again and looked up at her. “I know this is not ideal, but there isn’t another inn within an hour’s travel.”

“Thank you. I’m sure Mrs. Hammond and I will be quite comfortable here.” Amelia hesitated, chewing her lip. The candlelight highlighted the strength in his jaw. The muscles in his neck twitched as he tended the fire. She wanted to grab his arm again, just as she had when he escorted her to the room. Being near him made her feel safe. Protected.

He stood and dusted his hands together to shake off the ashes from the fire. “The coachman set your things over by that chair, and if you are all settled, I will leave you ladies to rest.” He walked toward the door. “Make sure you lock the door. Don’t let anyone in, for any reason.”

Amelia almost reached out to keep him in the room. “Where are you going?”

“To finish tending the horses. I’ll be staying in the room directly above this one. If you need anything, stand on the chair and tap on the ceiling. I’ll be sure to hear you.”

“But surely you will eat something and get some rest too?”

He nodded. “I will knock on your door tomorrow morning. We’ll leave at dawn. I want to arrive in Liverpool as early as possible.”

He gave a short bow, and the smile he offered sent a flutter through her heart. But she was tired. Emotional. She needed to keep those two things in mind and not let her thoughts turn to fantasies.

Jane closed the door behind Captain Sterling, and Amelia strained to hear their retreating footsteps over the fire’s hiss and the shouts from the courtyard below.

Jane hung her cape on the hook next to Amelia’s and turned to survey the tiny room. “Your Captain Sterling is a very kind man. He seems quite concerned for your welfare.”

Amelia ignored the subtle tease in her friend’s voice. She moved to the small table and sat down. “You’d better eat this, er, stew before it gets cold.”

She eyed the dubious dinner, recognizing carrots and potatoes but not much else. She picked up a loaf of bread, but it was so hard she could barely tear it in two. Sighing, she dropped the loaf back onto the pewter plate and reached for the tea.

It would have to suffice.

Graham exited the stable and crossed the courtyard. With the horses secure and bedded down for the night, Amelia and Mrs. Hammond settled, and arrangements made for tomorrow’s journey, he could try to get some sleep. He would need to be rested for his search for Lucy once he arrived in Liverpool. One of the coachmen had offered to tend to Starboard, but Graham had been unable to rest until he’d checked on the animal himself. He found himself wondering at that. As a captain, he gave orders daily, if not hourly. Why could he not release such a minor chore?

The noise from the pub was louder now than it had been when he walked the ladies in. Laughter and shouts peppered the night air. He shoved his fists in his pockets and forced his gaze on the door. How easy it would be to indulge in a drink or two to take the edge off of his fears over Lucy. What did he have to lose? They couldn’t travel until light broke anyway.

But he knew exactly what he had to lose. It had been a long time since he’d used drink as a means to escape, and his exhausted, susceptible state made it especially important to steer clear of the temptation. But a temptation it remained. He glanced up toward Amelia’s window. Indeed, it was not the only temptation.

After entering the inn’s main door, Graham climbed the stairs with his bag. The key weighed heavy in his pocket, and he fumbled in the dark to unlock the door. A stale stench assaulted him. He kicked the door closed with his foot and leaned against it to turn the lock. The room was identical to Amelia and Miss Hammond’s. Its simplicity did not bother him. He’d slept in much worse. But he couldn’t help but wonder how Amelia, a woman used to the finest surroundings, was faring.

Graham hung his coat and hat on the hook before moving to
stoke the fire. It was a cold night, made colder by the dampness clinging to his coat, and he leaned in to let the flames warm his face and chest.

Amelia was so close. Just a floor below. Was she asleep? So much had transpired since their argument after the dinner party. With his concern for Lucy, he’d had little time to give it thought. But now, in complete solitude and relative quiet, he allowed himself to recount her words.

An arrangement, she had called it, reminding him that her interest was in Lucy, nothing more. He rubbed his arm as if to rub away the memory of what her touch had felt like when she had clung to him. He wasn’t sure he could believe her words, for her expression had told him something completely different.