16. Chapter 16
William lagged behind the others as they returned to the house, wanting to calm himself before facing Kitty again. How could she contemplate marrying Mr Barrington—an older man for whom she clearly cared nothing? The very idea of it revolted him.
True, one of his cousins had married an earl of a similar age, but Caroline had been over the moon with the match which had made her a countess.
There was no question of her being forced into a marriage against her inclination.
Certainly not because of her circumstances, which must be the only reason Kitty would consider accepting Mr Barrington’s offer.
If her brother were here, William was certain he would put a stop to it. As it was, she had no one to give her another option. Thank heavens neither of his unmarried sisters would ever face such a predicament.
As far as he was able, he would stand as Kitty’s honorary brother, but as a single gentleman, there was little he could do. He would ruin her reputation if he offered her his protection, so that she was free to reject Mr Barrington’s proposal.
But he could fulfil his promise to take her into Weymouth to examine St Mary’s parish records that afternoon. If they could prove she’d been told lies about her father’s birth, at least he could restore to her the dignity of her name.
William followed Mr Jenkin and the ladies into the house. Mr Barrington arrived in the entrance hall at the same moment.
“What are you doing here, Laura? Are you not sitting for your portrait this morning?”
Colour flooded the young woman’s cheeks. “I was—”
“It is my fault,” said Kitty. “I was lured outside by the sunshine and lost track of time. Mr Merry and Laura came in search of me.”
“It would appear they found you, my dear.” Mr Barrington’s eyes softened as they lingered on her face, and William’s fingers curled involuntarily, digging his nails into his palms.
“That does not, however, explain your presence, Mr Jenkin. Is Portland awash with smugglers this week, or are there more escaped prisoners of war to report? I am surprised you ventured out at all, given your rather battered appearance. Did you tumble down the stairs?”
William pitied the man who stiffened at the unsympathetic reference to his injuries.
“We are always overrun with smugglers, sir, and I came to inform you of my encounter with some of them last night. It ended in a tussle which left me somewhat worse for wear.”
“I am sorry to hear it, Mr Jenkin. You must come and give me a full account. Shall we retire to my study?”
The riding officer hesitated before turning to the ladies.
“I wondered if you would care to drive out to Cave Hole this afternoon. The wind is in the right direction and as the barometer is falling, we can expect the waves to grow stronger as the day progresses. The conditions are such that when the spring tide is high, water should spurt out the top. I don’t believe Miss Lacey has witnessed the phenomenon. ”
“We must go,” said Miss Barrington, grabbing her hand. “It is such a sight. What do you say?”
“I’m not sure I understand. What exactly is it?”
“It’s a hole in the ground above a sea cave,” Mr Jenkin said. “Under certain conditions, water fills the cavern and spurts out the top like a fountain.”
Kitty’s eyes lit up. “It sounds intriguing. I’d love to see it.”
Mr Barrington leaned toward her. “Then we shall ensure that you do.”
“It would be my pleasure to take them,” said Mr Jenkin. “I have plenty of room for both ladies in my phaeton.”
“A generous offer,” the older man replied, “but given what happened last night, I am surprised you can spare the time.”
The riding officer’s expression hardened, but his tone remained even. “I doubt the smugglers will operate in broad daylight.”
Mr Barrington gave a nod of acknowledgement, but William sensed he would prefer the man to be caught up with his duties rather than squiring the ladies around Portland.
“Then it is decided. We’ll all go together, as I’m certain our resident artist would not wish to miss out. My curricle needs an airing. How would you like to try out my greys, Mr Merry, and drive Laura to see the spectacle?”
All eyes fell on William. If he wanted to object, now was the moment.
He had planned to take Kitty into Weymouth that afternoon, but as she had already expressed a desire to see Cave Hole, the trip would have to be postponed, whether or not he accompanied them.
With both ladies looking at him so expectantly, he had not the heart to refuse. “I would be honoured.”
“Excellent. Shall we say three o’clock? Now, if you will excuse us, Mr Jenkin and I have the activities of the nefarious smuggling community to discuss, and Mr Merry has a portrait to complete.”
As William headed for the Long Gallery with the two women, he wondered how wise it was to drive Mr Barrington’s curricle with his daughter as the only passenger. It was foolish of him to risk raising the man’s expectations that he would marry her.
It was one thing to flirt with her when she was set against him, but now she had warmed to him, he was walking on thin ice—and he had no desire for a freezing cold bath.
William painted whilst Kitty continued to read Coelebs aloud. It provided a peaceful backdrop—her alto tone creating a rhythm that allowed him to concentrate on his work. Miss Barrington sat as still as a statue, without complaint. So different from the awkwardness of the early sessions.
Despite the late start that morning, after two hours’ painting, the portrait was all but finished.
Not that William was ready to admit it to the others.
Brush in hand, he stared at the canvas on his easel.
Miss Barrington’s face stared back at him—beautiful, but cold.
Something about the eyes still wasn’t quite right.
No matter how many times he tried, he couldn’t reproduce the light he’d seen in their depths the first time they’d met.
“Are you finished yet, Mr Merry?” asked Laura, cutting across Kitty’s reading. “I am sick of wearing this white gown, day after day, and wish to change into something else for our drive out to Cave Hole.”
Her eyes lit up with excitement as she spoke of the planned outing. The alteration arrested his attention. It was not the expression he wanted, but it was closer. Could he prompt it by evoking the correct memory?
“Just a few more minutes.”
“Very well, Mr Merry. Kitty, start reading again.”
“Could we have a break from listening to Coelebs, please? I would like to talk instead.”
Her companion closed the book and looked expectantly at him.
“What is your fondest memory, Miss Barrington?”
“Oh, I don’t know if I can—”
“Please try. It’s important.”
“Very well.” For a moment her eyes glazed over, and William thought his ploy would work, but then she recounted a story about a black cat she had been given as a child. When she finished her lengthy description of the animal’s antics, he was no nearer capturing the desired expression.
“What about you, Kitty? What’s your favourite memory?” she asked.
A humorous smile played about her friend’s mouth. “Why—being rescued from a life of servitude with your grandmother.”
Miss Barrington laughed. “I don’t think she is ever happy unless she’s making someone else’s existence a misery.
It’s as though all the joy was sucked out of her a long time ago.
I visit as rarely as I can get away with.
She always finds something to criticise.
It must have been horrendous for you to be at her beck and call. ”
“I was grateful enough for a roof over my head, but being your companion is a far pleasanter role.”
“You are the opposite of my grandmother,” Laura said. “Someone pumped you with extra joy. You always seem content, although life has been unfair to you.”
“I’m thankful for what I have.”
There was something in Kitty’s tone that drew William’s gaze, and the expression he saw in her eyes contradicted Miss Barrington’s words. There was an emptiness there that jerked at his heartstrings.
Kitty blinked hard, and the look was gone, but William had seen it. That few others noticed did not mean the pain wasn’t there.
Her friend seemed oblivious. “And you, Mr Merry? What is your favourite memory?”
A thousand happy recollections flooded his mind. Riding with one sister. Painting another. The chance words of praise from his brother-in-law that had encouraged him to keep studying his art while he was up at Cambridge. The beautiful horses his grandmother had bought for him.
Every remembrance involved his family—and it was family that Kitty lacked. After observing the loneliness in her eyes, he couldn’t bring himself to flaunt his relations in front of her.
As a result, it was a flirtatious answer he returned to Miss Barrington, rather than the truth. “Meeting you—and being allowed to paint your portrait.”
Colour flooded her cheeks. “What a pretty thing to say. What do you think, Kitty? Is he being honest?”
“Without a doubt. Mr Merry has made no secret of his devotion to you above all else.”
Kitty’s tone was teasing, and her friend giggled, but William could hear the underlying note of criticism.
He glanced at her, hoping to see a glimmer of understanding in her eyes, but there was none. She flared her nostrils at him as she’d done when he first arrived at Rufus House.
William’s chest constricted. He had lost Kitty’s good opinion again, and he was surprised how much it mattered.
The party assembled outside Rufus House at three o’clock. Kitty looked forward to the visit to Cave Hole, but not to the travel arrangements.
Poor Mr Jenkin had been outmanoeuvred, and there was nothing he could do about it. He stared after the curricle as William pulled away with Laura by his side. So did she.
On the other hand, Hugh seemed content with his position.
Seated much closer to her than she would have liked, he pointed out every ship on the horizon as the carriage bowled along the road.
How condescending! She was quite capable of spotting the ships for herself and didn’t care to have him continually leaning over her side of the seat, brushing his leg against hers.
Mr Jenkin pulled up his phaeton next to William’s curricle. Hugh climbed down from the vehicle and offered her his help to descend the steps. There was no polite way to refuse, so Kitty took his hand, but snatched it away from him as soon as her feet touched the ground.
William and Laura stood waiting for them, buffeted by the wind. Mr Jenkin led them over the uneven surface and down a steep slope to a section of exposed rock near the cliff’s edge.
He pointed to the dark hole in the middle of the depressed area. “If you lean over, just a little, you can glimpse the water below.”
Kitty craned her neck to see inside, but she was too far away. Any attempt to move closer was prevented by Laura, who gripped hold of her arm, keeping her distant from its menacing depths, as if afraid she would be blown in by the wind.
The three gentlemen stood on the opposite side of the gap, and Kitty watched with bated breath as William stepped forward and peeked over the edge.
At that moment, a wave hit the rocks below, spurting a jet of water that would have soaked him if he had not darted back just in time.
A second breaker crashed into the cavern underneath them, sending another fountain upward, spraying the ground in front of the riding officer, who was standing close to the opening.
As a third wave struck the rocks in the cave and produced a column of water before them, William’s hand shot out and grabbed Mr Jenkin. At the same time—or was it a moment before?—the man seemed to lose his footing, and Hugh’s arm also reached out, pulling him back from the edge.
“Careful, Jenkin,” Hugh said. “One wrong step, and you could plummet to your ruin.”
Not the most sympathetic way to address a man who had almost plunged to a watery death. The colour had drained from the poor fellow’s face, and he moved away from the opening, somewhat dazed.
Laura stalked over to where he stood. “How could you be so careless? I don’t think my nerves will ever recover. Why did you get so close to the edge? So close that you almost…”
She trailed off, shuddering, and Kitty put a consoling arm around her shoulders. “Don’t dwell on it. All’s well.”
“Catherine is right, Laura,” said Hugh. “You are making too much of it. The danger has passed. Mr Jenkin has learned his lesson and realises that if he takes such risks, he will get himself into trouble one day.”
“I can’t help but be disturbed, Papa. The thought of anyone falling down there is…terrifying. I shan’t be in a hurry to visit Cave Hole again. Wouldn’t you agree, Kitty?”
“I confess, I found it very interesting. But watching Mr Jenkin stumble and almost fall in? No, that was not at all pleasant.”
Nor was the ghost of a feeling that something more sinister had occurred in front of her eyes. If only she could recall exactly what had happened. She couldn’t rid herself of the fear that the preventive officer had not stumbled. He had been pushed.
But who would have done such a thing? William? She might deplore his arrogant pursuit of Laura and his obsession with painting her, but even if he had shown signs of being deeply in love, she was sure it was not in his nature to threaten his rival.
Now she pictured the scene in her mind, she could see his blond hair flopping forward as he reached for Mr Jenkin. Her instincts had been right. He could not have pushed him. The riding officer had already lost his footing when William grabbed him.
Which left Hugh. Was he so protective of Laura that he would publicly threaten an undesirable suitor for her hand? Surely this was taking protectiveness too far. It was callous enough to set his butler on Mr Jenkin for daring to visit his daughter at night—but this?
A chill ran down Kitty’s back. Had Hugh meant only to give the man a stark warning, or had William saved him from a watery death?
Was she making too much of a near accident? Such things belonged in a Gothic novel, not in real life.