The Heiress of Winterwood (36 page)

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when Lucy needed her the most. Graham flashed in her mind. With a grunt, bulky arms lifted her, and she fell against a hard surface. A hand pushed her down on her stomach. The overwhelming scent of moldy straw nearly gagged her. It pricked her cheek, and something sharp pushed against her side. Hot breath grazed her ear. “If ye know what’s good for ye, pretty lass, you’ll keep yer mouth shut.”

Graham adjusted the pistol at his waist for what felt like the hundredth time. More than an hour had passed, and still no sign of Littleton. “You’re sure this is where you saw him?”

William nodded. “I’m certain of it.” He nodded toward a pub next to the Darndee Inn. “That’s where he and his comrades went last night.”

Graham leaned against the pillar supporting a portico, his eyes fixed on the shabby pub and the dilapidated inn. He gritted his teeth. Now, more than ever, he was certain that Littleton was involved in Lucy’s disappearance.

Another ten minutes whispered past when Graham snapped to attention. “That’s him.” The inn’s door had flung open, and a trio of men emerged. They whispered amongst themselves. One of them shielded his eyes from the sun’s bright glare. Then the two other men broke away from Littleton and started down the street.

Littleton straightened his tall hat atop his head, stuffed something in his pocket, and arched his neck to see down the street. Whatever the case, Littleton was alone. Now was their chance. Graham grabbed William’s arm and pushed him forward. “Come on, let’s go.”

The brothers dodged through the pedestrians and carts on the
walkway, weaving in and out of pockets of people, excusing themselves as they went.

“Littleton!” Graham called.

Littleton turned at the sound of his name, a shadow passing over his arrogant features when his eyes met them. His gaze darted between the approaching brothers and his departing colleagues.

Graham and William paired up shoulder to shoulder as they faced the man. Graham didn’t wait for him to speak. “What business brings you here to Liverpool, Littleton?”

Littleton stuttered a response, a false smile on his lips. “Barrett Trading, of course. Busy dock, Liverpool. Ships coming in almost daily. Have one leaving in the morning, in fact. I’m here to oversee. Dockworkers can be a dastardly lot. But I’m sure I need not tell you that,
Captain
.”

His justification was too quick. Too complete. Graham forced a stare, daring Littleton to look away. “Coincidental, do you not think?”

Littleton shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Just two days ago the three of us are in Darbury. Lucy is kidnapped. I receive a ransom note demanding that I come here. And now I find you.”

Littleton’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t like what you are suggesting, Sterling.”

Graham shrugged. “I suggested nothing. I merely presented facts.”

“I had nothing to do with your daughter’s disappearance, if that’s what you are implying.”

“Listen to that, William.” Graham’s words were addressed to his brother, but his stare never left Littleton’s face. He stepped even closer, forcing the man to look him square in the eye. “If I find out you had any role in what happened, I will see that you pay.”

Littleton’s face deepened to crimson, and his chin shook. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction that the other men had
disappeared. “As much as I would like to stay here with you gentlemen, I have business to attend to.” He spun on his heel and headed after his colleagues.

William watched as Littleton darted across the street and into the crowd. “Where do you suppose he is going?”

Graham wondered the same question. Littleton wove through the crowd, his pace increasing. Something was not right. He could feel it as surely as he could sense a storm brewing on the seas. “I don’t trust that fellow. He knows something, so I am going to follow him. Go get Sulter. He went to meet with Kingston at George’s Dock. Can you find it?”

“I can manage.”

“Good. Then let’s all meet back here in about an hour. Oh, and, William?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell them to bring their pistols.”

Darkness surrounded Amelia. She yanked a coarse blindfold from her face.

Edward Littleton is behind this. Edward has Lucy.

Angry, frightened, and sore, she pushed herself off a dirty floor and sat up. She attempted to brush mud from her cloak and peeled off her soggy, soiled glove. Within seconds her eyes adjusted to the narrow stream of light filtering through a rip in the black rag covering a high window.

Where was she?

She attempted to stand, and at the movement overwhelming pain sliced through her forehead. She pressed her palm against her head. The last thing Amelia remembered was being lifted onto something and blindfolded.

She forced herself to remain calm. Her second attempt to stand was successful, and she turned in a circle to assess her surroundings. A lumpy straw mattress in the corner. A single chair against the wall. A chamber pot. A dusty planked floor. A closed wooden door.

She staggered toward the door and jiggled the handle. Locked. She struggled to make her voice confident and strong as she knocked on it. “Edward Littleton? I want to speak with Edward Littleton.”

A shuffle outside vibrated the floor beneath her, and steps pounded toward her door. “Shut yer mouth, or I’ll shut it fer ye!”

Her legs trembled, but sheer determination kept her voice steady. “I will not be silent. I know Mr. Littleton is the reason I am here, and I demand to speak with him.”

Laughter sounded from the other side of the door, and she heard whispering. “Demand all ye want. Ye’ll not be speakin’ to no one.”

She grabbed the door’s ancient handle and shook it again, with more vigor, but something heavy on the other side prevented it from swinging open. She expelled her breath and leaned back against the wall with a thud. The scanty wall wobbled with her weight, and at the movement came a sound sweeter than any she had ever heard. A baby’s cry.

“Lucy!” Joy surged through Amelia at the painfully familiar cry. Her knees threatened to buckle beneath her. She shook the door until her muscles burned with fatigue. “Let me out!”

Laughter rang out once again. She stood back away from the door and stared at her obstacle, her chest heaving with the exertion. She had to get out of there to get to Lucy. Waiting for their laughter to die down, she decided to change her tactic. “I’ll stay in here and will not disturb you. You have my word. Just, please, let the baby come in here with me.”

“Not on yer life, lady.”

Amelia succumbed to the shaking in her legs and slid down the wall. She shivered when she once again heard the sweet cry. It was the cry Lucy gave when she was hungry or tired . . . not scared. At least she was safe. Alive.

Drawing her knees to her chest, Amelia trembled in the dark room. She leaned her forehead against her knees. Tears began, every inch of her body wracked with sobs. Why was this happening? If she ever needed an answer to prayer, it was now, and she assumed God would hear her just as well in this shabby room as in her chamber at Winterwood Manor.

And so she prayed.

G
raham shaded his eyes with his hand and glanced up at the noonday sun. Spots of sunlight danced among the ever-present clouds. From where he stood, he could keep an eye on the location where he told William to meet him and the warehouse that Littleton had disappeared into. He scanned the wide, muddy street, looking for William. An hour had passed, and the dock was but a short walk away. What was taking so long?

He returned his attention to the warehouse. As far as he could tell, Littleton had been inside the entire time. To his knowledge, no one had entered. None had exited.

People swarmed the square and wagons lined the streets, making it easy for Graham to remain unnoticed in broad daylight. He leaned against the abandoned cart he had chosen for cover. Had it been a mistake to trust William to get Sulter? His brother hadn’t proved himself to be very trustworthy in the past, but surely he could be trusted on such a simple mission.

Graham pulled his hat low over his eyes. He couldn’t think about that now. It was time for action. He’d prefer to have assistance, but he’d act alone if necessary.

Just as he was about to move toward the building on his own, he saw them. William approached from the right, Sulter following closely, their black and gray coats and low hats blending them into the crowd. Graham straightened as they approached and made room for them behind the cart, looking about to make sure no one saw them gather. He was about to greet them when their expressions made him stop. He straightened. Something was wrong.

“What is it?”

Sulter gave a quick glance over to William before speaking. “It’s Miss Barrett, Graham. She’s gone.”

The words didn’t make sense. “What do you mean, gone?”

Sulter pressed his lips together before speaking. “She and my Becky went to the market. When Becky came out of the butcher shop, Miss Barrett wasn’t there. She asked around and was told by an onlooker that two men grabbed Miss Barrett. But nobody saw where they took her.”

Fierce panic seized Graham as Sulter’s words scorched his ears. Amelia? If it had been any other man besides Sulter, he would not believe the words. His eyes darted to his brother, whose somber expression confirmed what he’d heard. Graham sucked in a sharp breath. “I told her not to leave.”

Sulter stretched out his hands as if to calm Graham. “We went to the scene, but we found nothing.”

Graham had seen many battles. He was no stranger to danger and fear. But he also knew it was crucial to stay calm in the face of the enemy. But never before had an attack been so personal. First Lucy. Now Amelia. His heart was unversed in how to react. “Littleton’s behind this.”

Graham cast a quick glance back at the warehouse where Littleton had disappeared. Lucy, Mrs. Dunne, and Amelia were all in danger—if not worse. He flexed his scarred hand, and then he noticed it. Someone was absent. “Where’s Kingston?”

Sulter and William exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Graham knew their answer before they said a word. “I searched everywhere.” Sulter’s voice was low. “He was not to be found.”

“Blast!” Graham slammed his fist against the wall next to him. His cravat grew unbearably tight as thoughts fired at him in rapid succession. He needed to fight the sinking feeling and stay calm. For Lucy. And now, for Amelia.

“Sorry, Graham.” Sulter spoke with utter sincerity.

“We don’t need him,” Graham blurted, giving rise to his own confidence. “Littleton’s in that warehouse. I’ll get Lucy and Amelia back if I have to rip it down brick by brick.”

Sulter’s voice, as ever, was calm. “Consider, Graham. We do not know how many men are in there. May I suggest we wait un—”

“No!” Graham would not hear of waiting. Not now. Not when he was so close. He’d made a mistake trusting Kingston, and he would deal with the rogue later. But he would not make another mistake and risk losing everything. He whirled around. “Do you have a firearm?”

Sulter opened his coat just enough so Graham could see the flash of metal tucked in his waistband. William nodded, his face flushed. The thought of William fumbling to clean the pistol in the library flashed into Graham’s mind. He eyed William. “Do you even know how to fire that thing?”