3. Chapter 3 #3
Mrs Barrington’s eyes narrowed, and Kitty recoiled at the unadulterated malice in their depths. “Then it will distress you to learn you are mistaken.”
What was she talking about? “I don’t understand. Was Walter Bruce not your brother?”
“Oh yes. I am his sister, but you are no kin of mine.”
What did this cantankerous old woman mean?
“He never told you, did he? How sweetly pathetic of Walter. Your grandmother was with child when he met her. That was why I was so against the match. Why should he take on another man’s bastard?
It was not as if there was a fortune to go with her, despite her claim that the child’s father was of noble blood. ”
Why was Mrs Barrington telling such lies? “I don’t believe it.”
“You poor, deluded girl. You cannot argue with fact. If you doubt my word, go to Weymouth and examine the entry for your father’s baptism in the register of St Mary’s.”
“What would that prove?”
“That my brother was not your father’s father.”
“Are you saying my papa was illegitimate?”
“Not in the eyes of the law. Catherine maintained she was a widow. That she had married the nobleman and that the boy was his. It’s his name you will find on your father’s baptismal record, not Walter’s.”
“I don’t understand. If my father was conceived out of wedlock, it would have been in my grandmother’s interests to marry your brother before her baby was born and claim him as the father of her child. Why would you doubt her story when she did neither?”
“Because she was determined to ensnare Walter by appearing more respectable than the loose woman she was. If all was as she claimed, she would have gone to his lordship’s family after the boy was born instead of being in desperate haste to marry again.”
“Perhaps she fell in love,” Kitty said.
“Bah! She wanted a protector and wove a likely tale. My foolish brother believed her, but I did not. Neither did our father. He forbade him from marrying her, but Walter was besotted and chose her over his own family.”
The old lady glared at her with such hatred that Kitty foresaw this interview was doomed to failure. But she had nowhere else to go, so she stood her ground, clutching to the slim hope that Mrs Barrington might soften toward her if she allowed her to finish her rant.
“I warned him that if he married her, I’d never speak to him again, and I never did. He was a fool to believe her story, and so I told him, but Walter would not listen. He paid the price. Was it not God’s judgement on him that his precious Catherine died giving birth to his own stillborn child?”
Frustration fought with an overwhelming sense of loss. Her grandfather had always loved her as if she were his own flesh and blood—but why hadn’t he told her?
There was no shame in him adopting her father as his own if what her grandmother had claimed was true.
But if he had believed his wife’s story, why hadn’t he shared it with Kitty and her brother?
Which brought her to the other alternative.
That Mrs Barrington’s accusations were correct.
That her grandfather had been blinded by love and later realised his mistake.
“Found out more about your family than you bargained for, haven’t you?” The old woman raised her hand to the bell rope. “Leave my house. You’ll get nothing here. You’re nothing to do with me. Nothing at all.”
A frisson of alarm coursed through Kitty’s veins.
If Mrs Barrington tossed her out, where would she go?
She knew no one in this part of the world and had no means of returning to Weymouth tonight.
However much she wanted to turn her back on this bitter old woman and leave her to wallow in her self-righteousness, Kitty needed her help.
“Please, madam, for the sake of a brother you once loved, take pity on me. I have nowhere else to go. I am not asking for your charity. If you allow me to stay, I’m not above working to pay for my keep. You may not be family, but you’re the closest thing I’ve got in England.”
“You have a nerve to ask anything of me.”
“I’m begging you to exert your Christian compassion. Have you none?”
Mrs Barrington stared at her and then let out an unpleasant chuckle that made the hairs on the back of Kitty’s neck stand on end.
“I suppose there is a certain irony in keeping you here, at my beck and call. Drop my brother’s name, and I will house you.”
“It is the only name I have.”
“Then you must use hers. Your grandmother’s family name was Lacey, so that’s what I’ll call you. Lacey. No Miss. Just Lacey.”
The last shred of Kitty’s identity was stripped away, leaving her with nothing.
She didn’t even know who she was any more.
Though reluctant to submit to this indignity, what choice did she have?
It need not be forever. She would find a way to start anew, but for now, she needed somewhere to stay tonight.
“Very well.”
Mrs Barrington rang the bell, and a footman appeared. “Take this woman downstairs. She’s to be known as Lacey. Tell Mrs Jarvis to employ her as she sees fit.”
Kitty dipped a curtsey, and the old lady’s lip curled in contempt. “I hope you won’t live to regret today’s work.”
So did Kitty.