“Some of Mr. Sinclair’s friendsdidremember a fleet being blown off course, and that the fleet was originally believed to be lost at sea for a good month or so,” Edgar added.
Wilhelmina’s heart accelerated to an almost painful rate. “Are you saying...?”
Edgar kissed her hand again even as he nodded. “I am. The fleet that your father invested the majority of his money in did go missing. And to give Mr. Melville the benefit of the doubt, I believe that when he went to speak to your father, it was still missing and was presumed at that time to be lost at sea.”
“But it eventually showed up?” Wilhelmina pressed.
“It did,” Mr. Sinclair said. “Although, I do feel it necessary to tell you that some of the goods didn’t pull into the harbor with the fleet, having been damaged or lost overboard when the storm hit. However, having said that, there was a tidy profit made—a tidy profit, I’m sorry to report, that Mr. Melville decided to keep for himself.”
Wilhelmina’s mouth dropped open. “He stole my father’s portion of the profits?”
“He did, and moved off to Georgia with them.”
“How do you know that?”
“I have many associates involved in the shipping industry, Miss Radcliff, and those associates have a network of other associates, a wonderful system if one is looking for certain information. I simply put out the word today that I was looking for a Mr. Melville, and a captain from a ship currently stuck in the harbor due to the weather, knew exactly where to find the man. You’ll be happy to learn that a telegram has already been sent off to the proper authorities, and ... I’m certain Mr. Melville will soon be apprehended.”
Wilhelmina blinked rapidly in order to hold at bay the tears that had suddenly sprung to her eyes. “This seems so ... well ... astonishing.”
Mr. Sinclair smiled, pushed himself to his feet, and caught her gaze as he looked down at her. “Mr. Wanamaker has proclaimed more than once that he finds you to be quite remarkable. Because of that, I do believe he was rather determined to do whatever it took to make matters right for your family.” He sent her a wink. “Make certain to remember that when he goes about the business of extending to you a proper proposal. Although ... I wasn’t supposed to say anything about that.” Sending her another wink, Mr. Sinclair set off across the lake, vanishing into the crowd a second later.
Turning back to Edgar, Wilhelmina arched a brow. “Did I hear correctly about something regarding a proper proposal?”
Edgar smiled a little sheepishly. “This wasn’t exactly how I pictured it, me sitting on a frozen lake of incredibly cold ice with seemingly half of New York society skating around us.”
Disappointment was swift and evidently showed on her face, because the next thing she knew, Edgar was leaning closer to her, his eyes suddenly holding that certain something she’d seen the night before at the ball, something that had her toes curling.
“Would it be completely untoward of me to voice a proposal this very minute?” he asked.
“Are you going to do so simply because a marriage between us is now expected, given that Mrs. Travers discovered us alone together?” Wilhelmina asked in voice that had turned slightly breathless.
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why are you so determined to marry me?” She couldn’t resist asking, even though she was beginning to come to her own conclusion regarding that, a conclusion that left her feeling distinctly light-headed.
“I believe it might have something to do with the fact I love you, and ... something to do with the fact that I know you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved, and will ever love, so...” Edgar paused and sent her a small smile. “Please put me out of my misery and finally agree to become my wife.”
For a second, as her breath got caught in her throat, she could only stare at the gentleman who’d always been her very dearest friend, and evidently wanted to become an even dearer friend—albeit one known as her husband—for the rest of her days. Leaning in toward him, she smiled. “You do realize that I would have agreed to marry you even if you hadn’t solved the mystery of the missing fleet, don’t you?”
He traced a lazy finger down her cheek as his smile turned into a grin. “I would have investigated the matter even if I thought you wouldn’t accept my proposal, but...” He suddenly stopped smiling. “Wait a minute. Did you just agree to marry me?”
“I did, although ... I do have some ... conditions.”
“You have ... conditions?”
She couldn’t help but grin at the incredulous look crossing his face. “They’re not difficult conditions, Edgar, and in all honesty, there’s only one.”
“And...?”
“I think we should enjoy a long engagement, especially because it’s been seven years since you’ve been in my company for any significant amount of time. It could turn out that you don’t care for me as much as you think you do, and ... while I don’t care to dwell on how miserable that would make me, it still needs to be a consideration.”
“I distinctly remember professing my love for you just a few short minutes ago,” Edgar said slowly.
“And while I distinctly remember youprofessingyour love for me, something I assure you I’ll never forget, it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy a long engagement. Although...” Her eyes widened. “Good heavens, Edgar, I do beg your pardon. I’ve just now recalled that I have yet to profess my feelings for you, although I would imagine you’ve already figured out that I love you as well.”
“You ... love me?” Edgar asked.
Wilhelmina smiled. “I readily admit that I do, although it certainly took me long enough to realize that what I’ve always felt for you is love of the deepest sort.”
