7. Chapter 7 #3
Miss Barrington linked arms with her companion. “Don’t desert me, Kitty.”
The fine pair of eyes he had earlier admired turned upon him, but there was no longer any warmth in them. “Please leave us, sir. You are distressing my friend.”
A flicker of guilt coursed through his body. Was it selfish of him to pursue the beauty when his attentions bothered her?
With practised ease, he dismissed it. “That is not my intention. I ask only to be allowed to gaze upon her loveliness, as any humble admirer would crave.”
“To gaze does not require speech.”
“True, but I wish to know her better.”
“You are acting most improperly, sir. A gentleman would not approach a lady to whom he has not been introduced.”
William felt the barb. The woman had the right of it. He should have requested an introduction when he first asked Mr Penn about her, but he had been reluctant to do so if he could find another means.
Except for the Governor, no one knew he was on Portland.
Everyone would assume he had followed his grandmother to Plymouth, and William was keen to keep it that way.
He wanted to paint his muse in peace. Without his interfering family and the weight of duty.
And without having to fend off any matchmaking mothers or their daughters.
“I swear my intentions are honourable. I only wish—”
“Pray, do not swear anything to us.”
Why was this woman—Kitty, Miss Barrington had called her—determined to put him in the wrong?
He tried a different tack. “Have pity on me.”
That seemed to pique her interest. “Pity?”
“Your friend has changed the meaning of beauty. Golden blond pales into insignificance compared with the richness of her chestnut brown hair. Her neck is like an alabaster pillar—”
“Shame on you, sir. Don’t you know outward appearances are fleeting, and that true beauty comes from within?”
Of course he knew it. His father had preached the same message from his pulpit often enough. “But how do you capture inner beauty with a paintbrush?”
Kitty’s eyes twinkled up at him. “Ah! You are the artist who wants to paint my friend. That would explain the blue smudge on your cheek.”
William swallowed a groan. How typical. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and swiped it across his face, but he did not allow his momentary discomposure to put him off.
“Your own argument fails you. If superficial beauty remains for such a brief time, how much more important it is to capture it before it fades. It would be a crime to let such loveliness pass without trying to record it on canvas.”
Kitty drew her lips together, her face a picture of disapproval, but before she could retort, a man reached the foot of the path down the cliff and strode across the beach toward them.
It was him again. The one who had interrupted his previous conversation with his muse.
The newcomer gave Kitty a passing glance and then fixed her friend with an admiring gaze. “Good day, Miss Barrington.”
“Good day, Mr Jenkin. It has been some time since our paths crossed. You will not know that my father has engaged a companion for me—Miss Lacey.”
She turned to Kitty. “Mr Jenkin is a most valuable member of our society. He is our local preventive officer. Papa is a magistrate and works with him to keep the smuggling trade under control.”
The man gave a stiff bow, and the other woman acknowledged the introduction, but her gaze flitted between him and her companion. Was she, like William, trying to deduce whether there was any attachment between them?
It was impossible to say. The man’s admiration was patent, but Miss Barrington’s tone, though pleasant, was not overly warm, and her eyes darted from side to side as if she were nervous.
If the attraction was mutual, she wasn’t going to admit it, and his presence had failed to elicit the captivating expression that had graced her face when William had first seen her.
Mr Jenkin cast him a look of loathing and returned his attention to Miss Barrington. “I know who he is. He’s the fellow who alleged he wanted to paint you. Is he still bothering you?”
How awkward. William could not claim an acquaintance with the beauty, and her friend had asked him to leave several times, so she had every right to condemn him for pestering her.
Perhaps it would be wisest to retreat graciously and try again another day. He waited for Miss Barrington to answer, but to his surprise, it was her companion who smoothed things over.
“This gentleman was kind enough to prevent me from falling when I stumbled on the path down to the beach, and we exchanged a few words. That is all. He is just taking his leave of us.”
By the slightest lift of her brow, she urged him to follow her lead, but the satisfied smile on her lips revealed she was aware she had won their tussle. His eyes blazed with admiration at the clever manoeuvre. But though Kitty might think she had been victorious, he knew better.
He swept an exaggerated bow toward the two ladies. “Your servant.”
Turning on his heel, he headed back up the path, a wide grin on his face. No woman could withstand his charm forever.