22. Chapter 22
To Kitty’s surprise, Laura joined them at the breakfast table the next morning. The melancholy that had weighed upon her after their trip to Weymouth had vanished. Was Mr Jenkin so easily forgotten?
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than the man appeared in the doorway. His eyes skimmed the room until they rested on Laura, who ducked her head in response. Maybe he was not quite so forgotten as her friend wanted her to believe.
The riding officer directed his bow in Laura’s direction before addressing her father. “I assumed you’d want to see me, sir. To tell you what we found.”
“Yes, come in, Jenkin. Won’t you join us?”
“Thank you,” he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking a vacant seat at the table.
Hugh leaned toward him. “Did you find anything?”
“Nought but a broken barrel.”
“How disappointing.”
Kitty shared his disappointment. Mr Jenkin’s men must have taken too long to arrive to catch the smugglers at work.
“Is that all?” William said. “Had they secreted the barrels away before you got there? There were at least a dozen being unloaded from the boat.”
Mr Jenkin took a sip of coffee and put down his cup. He glared at him, his lip curled in a sneer. “I didn’t realise it was you who alerted Mr Barrington to the smugglers. Are you sure your eyes didn’t deceive you? I find it hard to believe they’d be operating in daylight.”
What was the man talking about? Had he only just investigated their report? No wonder he hadn’t found anything.
“That’s because it was dark when I saw them at eleven o’clock last night.”
The admission seemed to distract the riding officer from his line of enquiry. “Rather late to be out for a stroll.”
“It is hard to go stargazing during the day.”
“Alone?”
Kitty bit down on her bottom lip. Would William answer him? Hugh would not be pleased to discover they had been out walking together.
He did not disappoint her. “That is none of your business.”
“So, you were out with someone.”
“You assume too much.”
The man glared at Laura. “Do I? You need not defend the lady’s character.”
William raised his chin and responded in a haughty tone that Kitty thought was every inch a viscount. “Do not presume to dictate my actions, Jenkin. I will protect the reputation of any woman who needs it.”
“It is unnecessary.”
Laura jerked her head up, her eyes aflame as they rested on the riding officer. “Until I have a husband who will stand as my protector, I am grateful to any gentleman who looks out for me.”
The more the pair glowered at each other, the wider Mr Barrington’s smile grew.
Though he probably knew it was not Laura who had gone out walking with William, he was content for that assumption to be made.
It kept the riding officer at arm’s length and put more pressure on the Viscount to marry his daughter.
After a few moments, Mr Jenkin pulled his gaze away and turned again to William. “You’ve wasted my time. If you saw the smugglers last night, why didn’t you see fit to send me word at once? Can you explain the delay—or are you in sympathy with the free traders, as I suspected once before?”
The tension sizzled between the two men. Kitty was tempted to calm the situation by admitting that it was she who had been out walking with William, not Laura, but thought better of it.
“I resent the implication, Jenkin. I am as keen to uphold the law as you are.”
“Are you? Or are you hiding more than just your identity—Lord Droxford?”
Oh dear. That would not help William’s cause. If news of his clandestine stay in this house spread, speculation would be rife.
Laura’s mouth dropped open. It was clear she had not been in on the secret. “What are you talking about, Mr Jenkin?”
“That this man is not who he claims to be. I thought he reminded me of someone, and so I described him to my mother. She knew who he was at once. The Viscount Droxford, grandson of Her Grace, the Duchess of Wessex, and heir to the Earl of Harting.”
Related to the Duchess of Wessex as well? That was a piece of information William had not deigned to share with her.
“Is it true?” Laura asked.
His cheeks reddened. “My name is William Merry. I have not lied to you.”
“But the rest?”
“Yes. My father has recently come into the title, and I chose to slip back into being plain Mr Merry.”
“I wish you’d told me.” She looked across the table at her father. “You knew, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Forgive me, child. It was for your own good. Lord Droxford did not want his time with you disturbed.”
Hugh could say what he liked, but Kitty knew better. It had always been about William’s painting and not wanting people to speculate that staying here meant something more.
“Or maybe his lordship didn’t wish to advertise his presence here because of his connection with the smugglers,” said Mr Jenkin.
Hugh glared at the riding officer. “Enough! You overstep yourself. Even if Lord Droxford were in league with the scoundrels, do you think such an accusation would cause you anything but trouble?”
Kitty was not sure which gentleman looked more aggrieved at his words.
“As it is, I can vouch for his lordship. He told me what he’d seen last night, and I sent Blake away at once to take word to you.
If the message didn’t get through, the fault is mine.
Are you going to accuse me of being in league with the smugglers because my servant failed me?
Or are you trying to deflect the blame? Is it not equally valid to question if the delay was in the delivery of the information or the response? ”
“I came as soon as I received your message.”
“I will take your word for it—as I expect you to take mine.”
The riding officer acknowledged Hugh’s reply and then rose from his seat. “Please excuse me. I have work to do and fear I have overstayed my welcome.”
Poor Mr Jenkin! He was eaten up with jealousy, and it was clouding his judgement. He was pointing the finger at the wrong man.
Kitty had been with William, so she knew he was telling the truth.
Which meant that someone else was playing a double game.
Was the preventive officer trying to divert blame from himself?
Unlikely. Why draw attention to the timing of the message if he had received word last night? It didn’t make sense.
Could Hugh be lying? No, Kitty had heard him give the orders to his servant. Which left Blake. Had he gone to inform Mr Jenkin as his master had bid him, or had he warned the smugglers instead?
William wriggled in his seat. He was not sorry to see the back of Mr Jenkin.
The man’s jealousy was extreme, and it made him feel such a fraud.
To steal a woman away from a man so very much in love was a dreadful crime to commit, and that he did not care for her or want her shot darts of guilt into his soul.
He would gladly hand Miss Barrington over to Mr Jenkin’s care if he could, but neither the lady nor her father seemed to favour the idea.
“Such a devoted officer,” Mr Barrington said, shaking his head from side to side, “but too inclined to see a smuggler under every stone. I believe he was rather disappointed I could vouch for you, Droxford. What could you have done to provoke such enmity?”
They both knew very well.
The man tilted his daughter’s chin up. “She’s looking pale, isn’t she, Droxford? A little sunshine is needed. I have some business that requires my attention this morning. Perhaps I could call upon you to take her out for a drive.”
“I would rather ride, Papa.”
William understood what was expected of him. “If you can mount us, I am sure Miss Lacey and I would be happy to accompany Miss Barrington.”
“An excellent idea. I’ll arrange for the stables to saddle up the horses at once. I have just the one for you, Droxford. A fine stallion, that you wouldn’t be ashamed to own.”
William responded with a weak smile. The man jumped at every opportunity to force him into spending time with his daughter. William’s only surprise was that he wasn’t coming to supervise and to press his suit on Kitty. Not that he was going to complain about that.
If Mr Barrington had changed his mind about marrying her, so much the better, because William would do everything in his power to prevent her from throwing herself away on a widower who was old enough to be her father.
At his master’s instruction, a groom brought a spirited black stallion out of the stable, who looked a lot livelier than the docile beast Miss Barrington claimed as her own. If they rode at her pace, William foresaw a tedious outing.
There was no sign of Kitty. She wouldn’t leave him to face her friend alone, would she? It was what he deserved, and it wasn’t fair of him, but he wanted to spend every minute he could in her company while he was still a free man.
It occurred to him he’d spoken for her, assuming she was able and equipped to ride, but he hadn’t even checked she had a suitable dress to wear. He hoped she wouldn’t cry off.
A smile sprung to his lips as Kitty walked into the yard, dressed in an old-fashioned blue riding habit that became her remarkably well.
“I feared you had nothing appropriate in your wardrobe,” he whispered.
“It is too late to wonder when you have already committed me to a ride. But as you see, my habit is in better condition than most of my other dresses because I haven’t worn it for years.”
“Why not? You’re not afraid of horses, are you?”
“No, but it is not possible to ride when you have no mount.”
The groom walked toward them, leading a grey mare. “Are you an experienced rider, madam?”
“That depends on your definition of experienced. I have ridden a lot in the past, but not at all in the last few years.”
“Then I’m sure you’ll be able to handle Dover. Not such an easy horse to manage as Miss Barrington’s, but if you get on with him, you could try Calypso next time. She’s a more satisfying ride, but rather jumpy, and I wouldn’t risk it if you are out of practice.”
“Dover it is.”