20. Chapter 20
By the time Kitty arrived at Mrs Fisher’s shop with Charlotte and Hetta, the footman following them was laden down with parcels. True to their word, William’s sisters had not restrained their extravagance. She had high hopes of surviving on this burst of generosity for months.
William was waiting for them inside with a bonnet in his hands. “Take off that hideous hat and try this on, Kitty.”
She glared at him. How could Lord Droxford act as if nothing had changed? Though she was in perfect charity with his sisters, she still smarted at his deception.
“Come on. I’m certain it will suit you.”
Kitty felt the tug of his pleas and eyed the elaborate creation. It looked exquisite—and very dear. If it suited her, as William seemed to think it would, his sisters would buy it for her. She couldn’t allow them to spend any more money on her…could she?
“He boasts he can pick out a hat for anyone,” said Charlotte, “so you have to let him see if he’s succeeded.” She leaned over and undid the ribbons at Kitty’s neck and replaced her ancient black bonnet with the one from Mrs Fisher’s shop.
“Take a look. What do you think?” asked Hetta.
Kitty turned her head to the right and then to the left, marvelling at how attractive it looked in the mirror. “It’s lovely.”
“Thought so,” said Charlotte. “We’ll have this, if you please, Mrs Fisher.”
“Very good, my lady.”
Kitty started to untie the ribbons at her neck, but Hetta put a hand over hers to stop her. “I think you should keep it on.”
“I suppose you won’t let me decline yet another gift?”
William’s youngest sister shook her head. “Not a hope.”
“Then pray dispose of that, Mrs Fisher.” Kitty pointed at her battered old black bonnet.
“It would be my pleasure, madam,” the proprietor said, with a twinkle in her eye. “May I say that it suits you much better than the hat your friend suggested?”
Kitty stilled at Mrs Fisher’s words. Wrapped up in the excitement of going shopping and being gifted a new bonnet, she had forgotten all about Laura.
She twisted around to face William. “Where’s Miss Barrington?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She wasn’t here when I arrived.”
Unbelievable. “And that didn’t give you cause for concern?” Evidently not.
She turned to the proprietor. “Did my friend leave any message for me, Mrs Fisher?”
“No, madam. She bought a bonnet and left a short while after you.”
Kitty wrung her hands together. “We must find her. She’s my responsibility.”
“Of course.” William instructed the footman to take her purchases and the books from the library to their carriage at the Golden Lion and after bidding his sisters a hasty goodbye, they hurried out the door.
He tilted his head to one side. “Where could Miss Barrington have gone?”
“I don’t know, unless…” Her voice trailed off as she recalled seeing Mr Jenkin in the churchyard and how dismissive Laura had been about him. Too dismissive. Had she been planning an assignation with the riding officer all along? A man whom her father disapproved of.
Kitty looped her arm through William’s and hurried toward the church.
“Do you know where she is?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe. I hope I’m wrong.”
But Kitty had the nasty feeling she was right. It would explain why Laura had been so keen to leave home by ten o’clock. Why she had sent her off on an errand. She hadn’t wanted an audience for her appointment with Mr Jenkin.
She must have been desperate to see him to risk a meeting in Weymouth. In the daytime. When someone might spot them.
What a useless chaperon she had turned out to be!
She was there to protect Laura’s reputation, but she’d allowed herself to be distracted.
She should never have left her in the shop.
Kitty increased her pace, pulling William along with her.
They must locate Laura. Fast. Because if word got back to Hugh, she would be blamed for leaving his daughter alone.
William allowed Kitty to drag him along the street, hoping she knew where to look for her friend. Guilt pricked his conscience. He had been so preoccupied with replacing Kitty’s dilapidated bonnet that he had paid no heed to his muse’s absence.
She halted outside St Mary’s churchyard. “There!”
Her finger pointed at the familiar figure of Miss Barrington, standing behind the rearmost graves, talking to Mr Jenkin, with her maid waiting nearby.
As they watched, the riding officer laid a hand on her arm, and his raised voice floated across the tombstones. “Laura—”
She shook free of his grip. “No!”
“I’m begging you—”
“Please, don’t ask it of me…”
William could not stand by and do nothing. It was his duty to protect Miss Barrington from this man, who appeared to be coercing her to go with him against her will.
He closed the short distance between them and addressed Mr Jenkin. “I believe the young lady said no.”
The riding officer jerked around, his lips pursed. “Mind your own business, sir.”
“It is my business, Jenkin. Miss Barrington came to Weymouth in my care, and I mean to return her to her father.”
William glanced at Kitty, who had followed him down the churchyard, and tilted his head toward her friend.
She interpreted his cue as he’d intended and linked arms with her. “Come with me, Laura. It’s time for us to leave.”
Miss Barrington sucked in her lips and stared at Mr Jenkin, as if begging him to contradict her.
He met her gaze, his mouth tight, and then lowered his eyes. “Miss Lacey is right. You should go home.”
Kitty nodded to the maid, who hurried to her mistress’s side, and together they led a bewildered Miss Barrington out of the churchyard, talking softly to her as they went. No doubt comforting her after her distressing encounter with Mr Jenkin.
William glanced back at the cause of her affliction. The man hadn’t moved. It seemed as if all his joy had left with Miss Barrington. Is that what a broken heart looked like?
Haunted by the distress in the man’s eyes, William hurried after the ladies.
What had overwrought Miss Barrington’s nerves?
Had she rejected a marriage proposal from Mr Jenkin, knowing her father disliked the match?
Or had he been trying to persuade her to elope, to escape her father’s disapproval?
If so, he had been right to intervene. The ensuing scandal might have destroyed them.
William wondered if there would be consequences to his actions. If Miss Barrington had refused Mr Jenkin, where did that leave him? Had she turned down the riding officer because she was expecting an offer from a viscount?
When they arrived back at Rufus House, Laura retired to her room with a headache. Kitty was not surprised. Her friend had said little all the way home. Though it appeared she had rejected Mr Jenkin’s advances—or possibly, even, an offer of marriage—she was not unaffected.
Kitty had not forgotten William’s deception. As soon as they were alone, she rounded on him. “Why did you lie about your identity? I thought we were friends. Don’t you trust me?”
He ran a forked hand through his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.
He looked like a dog who had just come through a hedge from a forbidden garden and knew he was in trouble.
“It’s not a falsehood. My name is William Merry, and I’m not obliged to use my title.
I didn’t want to draw attention to my presence here. ”
“Does Hugh know? Is that how you secured an invitation to this house?”
“Yes. It was the only way.”
“No wonder he welcomed you into his home. Any man would desire such a match for his daughter. Didn’t you realise the risk you were running in coming here? That he would try to persuade you to marry Laura. Is that what you want?”
He raked his fingers through his hair again. “I had to paint her.”
Exasperating man! Could he never see past his art? “Of course you did. It always comes back to your painting, doesn’t it? Do you flirt with every lady whose portrait you work on? Make them fall in love with you?”
“I came here to take Miss Barrington’s likeness, not to court her. It was hard enough getting her to tolerate my presence, so I could paint her.”
“But then she warmed to you. A miraculous change of heart—or maybe not. What if her father told her you were a viscount and put pressure on her to pursue a match with you? That would explain what we’ve just witnessed.
Her seeming rejection of Mr Jenkin—a man I suspected she was in love with when I first arrived. ”
“Miss Barrington does not care for me.”
“That doesn’t mean she won’t have you if you offer for her.”
“An offer I have no intention of making.”
“Then the flirting was all for show?”
He screwed up his forehead. “I was desperate to get the expression I needed—for the painting.”
“You succeeded—but was it worth the risk?”
“It will be when the portrait is displayed in the Royal Academy exhibition next year.”
Why wouldn’t he acknowledge the danger he was in? “Even if you end up with a wife you don’t care for?”
“It won’t come to that. I’ll be gone before long.”
“When? Tomorrow?”
William hesitated. “No. Not that soon. I promised to take you to see the parish records. I’d hoped we could go today, but the opportunity didn’t arise.”
The sincerity in his voice tugged at her heartstrings, but she refused to let his words change her resolve. It was more important he escaped from the web Mr Barrington had woven around him before he was trapped into marrying Laura. He must leave.
The weight of her decision hit her like a mail coach. If William left, she would never see him again, and until faced with a future without him, she hadn’t known how bleak it would look.
She’d told herself not to fall in love, but her heart hadn’t listened.
As she examined the feelings that had been steadily growing inside her, Kitty realised she loved William so deeply she couldn’t see the bottom.
The thought of him leaving did things to her insides that she didn’t know were possible.
But he would never be hers. She would never be more to him than a friend—and she was not even sure she was that, given that he hadn’t trusted her with the truth about who he was.
She had to set him free. It would cost her, but it had to be said, though her heart cracked with every word.
She lifted a hand to his cheek and held it there for a moment.
“I release you from your promise. Go tomorrow—before it’s too late.”