Page 31 of Echoes of the Sea (Storm Tide #2)

She didn’t know if he was changing the subject because he didn’t want to talk about his family or if it was a helpful way of coming to terms with his loss.

Either way, she felt herself equal to the task of talking about the parents she still deeply grieved.

“My parents died when I was five years old. My grandfather was supposed to take me in, but he didn’t want me.

So I was sent to my uncle and aunt’s house, and I’ve lived with them ever since. ”

“How could your grandfather possibly not want you? I can’t imagine you were a particularly rotten child, seeing as you’re a particularly lovely person.”

If not for the wall obstructing his view, her ever deepening blush would have immediately given away her tenderness for him.

“Grandfather was often unkind, and I think, to an extent, he enjoyed that about himself. While there is a degree of pain in having a close relative who wanted nothing to do with me, I think if I had been forced to live with him, it would have been far worse. My aunt and uncle, at least, weren’t cruel.

And my cousin wasn’t either. I was lonely, but I wasn’t unhappy. ”

“This is the same uncle who you suspect is now trying to marry you off to someone who would make you unhappy?” He sounded doubtful, and rightly so.

“I’ve been struggling to make sense of that myself.” It weighed on her, in fact. “I think the money has proved too alluring, and he is allowing it to change him, which is a shame.”

“The money? You mean your money?”

“If I fail at my task here at Guilford, half of my inheritance will be his. The other half will be my dowry to go to whomever he chooses as my husband. I suspect he is hoping to make some kind of arrangement with Mr. Winthrop in which a portion of that dowry will stay with my uncle. I don’t know that for certain, but I can’t shake the suspicion. ”

A moment passed without a response. She closed her eyes, hoping Kipling hadn’t walked away or that their conversation was abruptly ending.

“We have to make certain your uncle isn’t able to do that.”

She pressed one hand to her heart, holding back a sigh she wasn’t ready for him to hear.

He not only wasn’t abandoning her, but he also meant to keep helping.

And he cared what happened to her. This stranger she still understood so little about and still struggled to believe had come to Guilford from so very far away had quickly found a place in her heart.

She cared about him and wanted him to care about her. And it seemed as though he did.

“I believe I hear the voices of your uncle and Mr. Winthrop,” Kipling said. “They’ll likely reach the corridor in another moment. I’ll stay at my post. You get some rest.”

“Thank you, Kipling,” she said.

“You’re welcome.”

She heard his steps move away. He would stay close enough to her room to make certain she was safe but far enough away not to draw too much attention.

He was remarkable, and she suspected he didn’t know it.

Kip was stationed in his place, and Amelia had closed her door by the time Mr. Stirling and Mr. Winthrop appeared in the corridor.

They both took note of him at almost exactly the same time, and they both looked thoroughly confused.

Kip remembered from The Beau that footmen at their posts kept very still, their eyes focused ahead, pretending they were unaware of everyone and everything.

“I didn’t realize your niece employed any footmen,” Mr. Winthrop said, sounding thoroughly displeased at the idea.

“He must be newly hired.”

“How did she manage that? She’s not to leave the island.” Mr. Winthrop sounded almost excited. “Does that mean she did leave? Have you caught her out already?”

They were drawing nearer but not lowering their voices. Did people in this time truly think their servants couldn’t hear things? He’d always thought it had been done on The Beau to simplify scripts and to make the upper-class characters seem fancier or stuffier. Apparently, it was a real thing.

“Someone else here must have made the arrangements,” Mr. Stirling said.

“There isn’t a carriage of any kind,” Mr. Winthrop countered. “The housekeeper and butler are too ancient to walk across the sea road.”

“There’s a maid who works here who could have made the journey,” Mr. Stirling said. “Or the Iverses at the lighthouse.”

Mr. Winthrop and Mr. Stirling didn’t spare Kip so much as a glance as they passed him.

Their brief look upon reaching the corridor was to be all the scrutiny he’d receive.

Hopefully, the brevity of that, combined with the white-powdered wig and livery, would make him difficult to recognize should their paths cross again.

“She said there was a local man doing carpentry,” Mr. Winthrop said. “A man from the village could certainly manage to bring others from the village across the sea road to work. If she’s made inroads there, we’re sunk.”

“Don’t lose hope,” Mr. Stirling said. They were making their way farther down the corridor, and their voices were growing softer. “She has to stay on this island for four and a half more months. I don’t think she’ll be able to do it.”

“However long she manages to endure being here, this estate will be in better condition than it was before,” Mr. Winthrop said. “It already is, from what you’ve said.”

Mr. Stirling nodded. “Let us both hope she doesn’t manage to bring it into excellent condition, or I’ll have a very difficult time arguing that she has failed.”

They separated, and each went into his bedchamber.

Kip stayed precisely where he was, not letting his servant’s demeanor slip at all in case either of them very suddenly poked his head out. Kip hoped Amelia hadn’t been listening. While she already suspected what he had just heard, there was something awful about hearing it stated so bluntly.

Her grandfather had rejected her out of hand. She’d lived with an indifferent uncle who was beginning to follow in her grandfather’s footsteps. She didn’t deserve the mistreatment she had so often been subjected to. It was unfair the way families could hurt each other. He knew that all too well.