The Heiress of Winterwood (37 page)

“Well, I told you I’m more of a horseman, but I’m not ignorant. I can shoot well enough.” William’s nervous laugh did little to convince Graham. He needed everyone to be confident. Disciplined. And William’s experience in this type of pursuit was limited at best. But what choice did he have? He had these two men willing
to help, and he needed each one. He slapped his hand on William’s shoulder.

“All right, men. Here is what we are going to do.”

Amelia tucked her feet below her as she watched a beetle scurry along the wall’s edge and disappear in a crack. A shiver pulsed through her limbs, and she bit her lower lip. The lengthening shadows slipping in from behind the curtain hinted dusk was about to fall. Not since she demanded to speak with Edward Littleton had she heard so much as a peep, save for a whimper from Lucy. How much time had passed? Six hours? More?

She wrapped her cape around her, grateful for the little warmth it provided. Her thoughts turned to Helena. The shock of seeing her in Liverpool with Edward had not worn off. The argument Amelia witnessed had been heated indeed. Had Helena been helping Littleton with the kidnapping, or had she been trying to intervene?

Amelia scanned her surroundings, now barely visible in the dying light. How long would she be kept here? How on earth would Graham find her? Jane had said that God would never leave her nor forsake her. Was he watching her now, protecting her? Was he watching Lucy and Mrs. Dunne?

A tapping on the wall startled her. She scrambled to her feet and searched anxiously for the source of the noise. The tapping continued, then a finger poked through a small hole at the bottom of the wall. Amelia’s heart leapt to her chest, and a cry escaped her lips. But the whisper that followed had a familiar Irish lilt. “Miss Barrett. Miss Barrett, are you there?”

Mrs. Dunne!
Desperate for contact, she fell against the filthy floor and grabbed the finger with her own. “Mrs. Dunne, are you all right?”

The older woman’s pudgy finger wrapped around hers, and its warmth seemed to spread through Amelia like hot tea on a frosty day. “I’m fine. And Lucy’s fine, praise be to God. It’s Mr. Littleton who’s behind this. None other.”

Amelia’s heart raced faster than ever. “What else do you know?”

“Shhh . . . you’ll need to stay quiet now. The man who’s keeping guard—Jack’s his name—he’s finally nodded off.”

“My door is closed. Locked. I can’t see a thing.”

“From what I heard, they’re planning on exchanging us in the morning for money. But if Captain Sterling doesn’t deliver it, then they’ll put us on a ship bound for Barbados.”

“Barbados?” Amelia had heard lurid tales about orphans being kidnapped and sold in the islands where abolition had created the need for cheap labor. She never imagined the stories could actually be true. Fear trailed down her back as a scene played across her mind.

She squeezed Mrs. Dunne’s finger. “Is Lucy all right? Is she frightened?”

“She is doing just fine. Doesn’t seem to know a thing is different. She’s asleep right next to me, she is.”

“Do not worry, Mrs. Dunne. Captain Sterling will find us.” Her words were directed to herself as much as to the nurse. “He’s been out looking all day.”

“Does he have enough to pay the ransom?”

“He does. Let’s just pray it all goes well.” She hesitated, but her desire for the truth outweighed the need for discretion. “Are you aware of Helena being involved?”

“What, Miss Helena Barrett?”

“The very same.”

“No, ma’am, not at all. Surely you do not think—”

Without warning, a crash thundered from outside her door. Amelia gasped and jumped to her feet, and Mrs. Dunne’s finger
disappeared through the hole in the wall. A distant door creaked on its hinges, and boots stomped the planked floors. The blood pounded in her ears with such intensity that she feared she wouldn’t be able to hear a thing.

Two, perhaps three male voices echoed, but her heart lurched when she heard one voice in particular. Edward.

“Where is she?”

Amelia stiffened. She knew he was talking about her. Her hair, which had long since fallen free of her ivory comb, hung limply over her shoulders. She combed her shaky hands through the tangled curls. She might not feel confident, but by the grace of God, she would appear so.

Something was dragged away from the door. Amelia held her breath as the latch turned and the door swung open. Light from a lantern stung her eyes. Determined to show no weakness, she forced her eyes wide.

“What is she doing in the dark?” Edward hissed at the men behind him. “Is this any way to treat a lady?” He shouted his reprimand over his shoulder as he stepped into the dingy room, a lit tin lantern in hand. Dark shadows hid his features, but she could imagine the smirk he used to give her when he believed he had the upper hand. Well, those days were in the past . . . and they had taken a very dangerous turn. She had to be strong now—for Lucy and for herself.

She jutted her chin in the air. “I demand to know what is going on, Edward.”

“I think you know exactly what is going on, Amelia dear.”

“You are mistaken. Perhaps you had better explain it to me.”

He chuckled. “Oh, Amelia, do not be coy. It doesn’t suit you. You understand perfectly.”

Even in the dark, she saw the outline of his firm jaw. High cheekbones. How had she ever thought him handsome? Charming?
His customary scent of port and tobacco assaulted her senses. She winced as his forefinger traced down her cheek, but she refused to allow her gaze to falter. “You’re a liar, Edward Littleton.” Her pointed accusation reverberated from every surface in the room. “I know you are angry with me, but how could you do this to an innocent child?”

Her statement seemed to amuse him. His white teeth flashed in the darkness. “You forced me to. Do you not see it?”

“I forced you to do nothing.”

“On the contrary.” With slow, deliberate steps he began to circle her, like a hawk circling its prey. She straightened her posture and stared forward. She would not give him the satisfaction of showing any fear.

He continued in hushed tones. “You betrayed me, Amelia, and see where that has gotten you?”

Amelia winced as he leaned close to her, his thick fingers caressing her shoulder. “Where’s Helena?”

“Helena?”

“I saw you with her. Where is she?”

“Do not trouble yourself with Helena. She is not your concern.” He dropped his hand and called back over his shoulder, “Get the baby and the nurse and get ready to head to the docks.” He turned his attention back to Amelia. “And don’t think I have forgotten you.”

Amelia gritted her teeth. She glanced around, searching for a means of escape, but Edward’s large frame blocked the door, and behind him stood at least three other men. “Where are you taking us?”

“That would spoil the surprise, wouldn’t it? No doubt you expect your dashing Captain Sterling to rush to your aid. But we shall see about that, shall we not?”

Amelia balled her fists at her sides. But suddenly, it all faded
when she caught sight of what she had been waiting for days to see—a glimpse of Lucy, her Lucy. The baby’s face was dirty and tearstained, and she squirmed in the arms of a strange man.

Amelia’s nostrils flared, but she forced herself to remain controlled. This was a game to Edward. She could play it too. “I know what you are after. I’m no fool. Let Mrs. Dunne and Lucy go free, and I will give you whatever you want.”

A lewd sneer twisted his face. “Whatever I want?”

She ignored his innuendo. “I’m talking about money. That is what this is about, is it not? Name your sum, and I give you my word, I will make arrangements to get you what you want.”

He snorted. “You give me your word? Ha! I seem to remember that you gave me your word on another matter, and look how well that came to fruition. Your word is useless to me. If you had made that proposition a few days ago, I might have been able to accept your generous offer, but now I have another score to settle.”

He didn’t need to explain.
Graham.

Amelia jumped as Edward leaned back and shouted, “Bring her in.” Then she gasped as a broad-shouldered man pulled Helena into the doorway. Helena’s chestnut hair hung loose about her shoulders, and tears wet her face. A rip in her cloak caused it to hang on her at an awkward angle, and her hands were bound behind her back.

“Helena!” Amelia tried to push past Edward to get to her cousin, but he grabbed her arm and held her tight.

His lip curled in a sickening smile. “You don’t mind, do you?” Producing a slender length of rope from somewhere, he stepped behind her and began to tie her hands.

“Tell me, dearest Amelia, are you fond of the sea?”

E
dward took hold of Amelia’s elbow, just as gently as he had dozens of times at Winterwood. Except they were not at Winterwood, and instead of her arms swinging freely by her sides, a coarse rope bound her hands together at the wrists.

She winced as Edward’s grasp tightened. From the corner of her eye, she noted his discomfort. Perspiration dotted his brow. His jaw clenched, unclenched, then clenched again. She looked straight ahead down the dark corridor.

“Please, Edward, reconsider this insanity.”

“Oh, it’s Edward now, is it? Not Mr. Littleton? I’ve never known you to be so fickle.”

“Uncle George will find out about this. Do you really think he will continue as your partner when he learns how you have treated his daughter and niece?”

“Barrett’s a fool. Besides, where we are going, we will not need his help.”

She swallowed. She feared his answer. “And where is that?”

An answer did not come. He merely pushed her down the hall, and once at the end, he jerked her to a stop.

His fingernail dug through her muslin sleeve, jabbing her arm’s soft flesh. “It would be in your best interest, Miss Barrett, to keep your mouth shut.” He looked out the door, gave a low whistle, nodded, and gripped her arm. She followed him through the door. Night, black and cold, surrounded her. The wind whistled around the corner, carrying with it bits of icy rain that made her eyes water.

Outside the warehouse, shadowed men darted to and fro. Three carriages were lined up in a tight alley. Steam rose from the horses’ backs. One of the black beasts nickered, sending a plume of hot breath into the freezing air. Where was Lucy? Helena? Mrs. Dunne?

He tugged at her arm, and she dug her heels stubbornly into the muddy street. “Where’s Lucy?”

He did not answer, and when another man came up behind her, fear dragged its fingers down her spine. Edward yanked her, nearly pulling her off her feet, toward a carriage, lifted her by the waist, and all but tossed her inside. She landed awkwardly against the seat. A timid cry startled her already tense nerves. She struggled to sit up and looked at the carriage’s other occupant: Helena.

Edward cursed and looked in the carriage, his eyes wild, black hair disheveled. The wildness, the desperation in his eyes struck a chord of pure fear within Amelia, and she thought better of protesting. She straightened and sat back against the seat, hands bound behind her.

Edward pinned her with his half-crazed stare. He pointed at her and hissed through clenched teeth. “This is your fault, Amelia. Look at how your poor decisions have hurt so many.”

He slammed the door. Urgent, muted voices circled the carriage, and she waited for the sound of footsteps to retreat before she turned to her cousin.

Amelia faced her cousin, who was in the corner, sobs wracking her body. She wanted to feel compassion, wanted to comfort her, but instead eyed her warily. Had Helena played a part in all of this? Or was she merely a victim of Edward’s cruelty?

Helena sniffed, her sobs echoing in the tiny space. It was the first time the women had been alone since their capture.

Suddenly Amelia saw Helena as she had when they were children, with her hair in plaits and ribbons. Her mind was rich with memories of a happy time when they would whisper secrets and share dreams. Regardless of how she had come to be here, the pain in Helena’s eyes tugged at her heart. Amelia scooted close, until her cloak brushed Helena’s. “Tell me, how did this happen? How did you get here?”