22. Chapter 22 #2
William restrained himself from helping Kitty mount while Mr Barrington looked on. He had no wish to draw that man’s enmity. Instead, he nodded to the groom to aid her.
They rode along the clifftop toward Portland Bill.
Of the two women riding ahead of him, Kitty had a far better seat.
Miss Barrington did not look at all comfortable on the back of a horse.
That being the case, why had she suggested they ride rather than drive out in the carriage?
Was she trying to avoid having a conversation with him?
Rather odd behaviour if she wanted him to court her.
As the track opened out onto the grassy headland, William urged his mount forward to join the ladies, leaving the groom trailing behind.
“You seem to have remembered how to ride,” he said as he came alongside Kitty.
“I don’t think it’s something you ever forget. And where better to become reacquainted with my love of riding? I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful view. Whichever way I look, I see the sea, the waves like big fluffy white carpets being unrolled across the blue. Wouldn’t you agree, Laura?”
“I suppose.”
Kitty glanced at William and shrugged. She seemed as confused by Miss Barrington’s behaviour as he was.
As they neared the cliff edge, they drew their horses to a standstill so they could better admire the view.
“Shall we ride over to the lighthouses and continue around the island?” asked Kitty. “I’ve never seen the other side of Portland.”
Miss Barrington turned her horse to face the way they’d come. “Go ahead. I want to return home.” She rode off without looking back to see if they were following.
William’s hackles rose at the woman’s selfishness. She knew her friend could not leave her. Did she ever think of anyone other than herself?
“Never mind,” said Kitty. “It will wait until another day.”
William nodded to the groom to go after his mistress, but motioned to Kitty to hold back.
“I must go with Laura. Hugh expects it of me.”
“Mr Barrington expects it of me too—but I need some respite. We can canter to catch up with her soon, I promise. But first, stay a moment and talk to me.” He implored her with sad, wide eyes. “Please.”
Kitty’s mouth twitched, as if she were fighting a grin. She lost. “It is hard to see how I could refuse when you look at me like that.”
Her smile flooded William with a warmth that flirting never produced. Was he flirting, or was it more than that? Had something grown between them without him noticing? Was he being as blind as his mother had predicted?
“What did you make of Mr Jenkin’s visit this morning?” she asked, drawing her mount closer to his. “Apart from observing that the man was so jealous that he tried to skewer you with false accusations.”
“It doesn’t make sense. We know Mr Barrington sent word. We were witnesses. Either Blake let him down or Jenkin was lying. My money is on the butler.”
“That’s what I deduced. Do you think we should share our concerns with Hugh?”
His brow furrowed. “On no account are you to say anything about Blake. Mr Barrington has the same facts as us. We must trust him to draw the same conclusion.”
“I suppose he would be sorry to lose his butler if the madman in the basement truly exists.”
“You doubt it?”
“I don’t know. At first, I couldn’t see why Hugh would support Laura’s story if it were not true.
But I’ve seen how desperate he is to make you his son-in-law, and it made me wonder if he had backed his daughter’s tale to hide her indiscretion.
You would have every right to walk away from a match with Laura if she was secretly meeting Mr Jenkin at night. But after today—”
“You’ve changed your mind?”
“Maybe, and if the story about the madman is true, Hugh needs Blake to look after Cousin Silas. I don’t suppose there are many servants who would accept such a role.”
“You reckon Mr Barrington might overlook Blake’s sympathy with the smugglers because of his usefulness?”
“It’s possible.”
William suppressed a sigh. He wished they could ride away from all this, but the reins of duty and honour prevented them. “We ought to catch up with Miss Barrington before we’re missed. There’s a flat stretch of land to the right. We can canter along there with no risk of falling off the island.”
She nodded, and they rode together across the heathland. It was glorious, feeling the wind in their faces.
William drew his horse to a halt just short of where Miss Barrington was riding at a snail’s pace. He waited for Kitty, who was laughing as she joined him.
“You looked like you were enjoying yourself,” he said.
“I had forgotten how much I liked to ride.”
“How could you forget?”
“Sometimes it’s best not to remember.”
“Enlighten me.”
“I sold my horse to help pay for Edward’s commission. He would have entered the army as a regular soldier, but it wouldn’t have been right. He was made to command, and I was happy to sacrifice my mount to make sure he got that chance.”
Once more, putting another’s needs before her own. Unlike him. “You must love your brother very much.”
“Yes.”
“Do you think you’ll ever see him again?”
“On this earth? Only God knows. I dare not hope for his survival when so many have fallen. I’ve found it easier to cope with the downs of life by not expecting too much of it.”
“Whereas I expect a lot—and am often disappointed. But I believe that is preferable to living without hope.”
“I didn’t say I have no hope. Only that I don’t expect too much of this life. I expect plenty from the next. A paradise where there is no more sickness or sadness or death or separation. Don’t you hold on to that too? Especially when times are hard?”
“I suppose I’ve become too focused on getting what I want from this life to think much about the hereafter.”
“Perhaps it’s time to realign your thinking.”
As they rode back to Rufus House, William thought about what Kitty had said.
She had sounded so like his father that it made her words doubly profound.
He had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, whereas Kitty’s life had been riddled with hardship and loss.
What difficulties had he ever faced apart from a few thwarted ambitions?
Until now—when he was being coerced into a marriage he didn’t want.
If he could honourably back away without offering for Miss Barrington, he would enlist Anthony’s assistance to extricate him, but he could not. His own reckless flirting had led to this. Kitty had urged him to leave, but he had stayed. For the portrait.
His success as an artist would be assured, but at what cost?
A lifetime with a woman he did not love.
Who did not care about him or his painting, or anything that mattered to him.
Miss Barrington was a blank canvas, already covered with varnish.
You couldn’t paint on that. Their future together would be empty.
It wasn’t worth it. How could he have been so slow to realise?
No amount of artistic acclaim could eradicate the emptiness ahead of him. A life devoid of the warmth that had flooded him when Kitty smiled at him that morning. A warmth that he now craved with his entire being.
What was it his mother said to him on the day his uncle died? That he would know he was in love when he cared more for that lady than for his painting.
Kitty was that lady.
He let out a wry bark of laughter at his own stupidity. If he lost the portrait, he could paint another, but if he married Miss Barrington, he couldn’t marry Kitty. All at once, he knew that was the most important thing in the world.
That was why a future with Miss Barrington seemed so barren—because she wasn’t Kitty.
Wonderful, irritating Kitty. He would rather be scolded by her than praised by any other woman.
When he had fallen in love with her, he couldn’t say, but his heart ached with the conviction, and his eyes grew wet. Because it was too late.
A small voice inside him nudged him to pray. What had he got to lose? He needed the help of one far bigger than Anthony to get him out of the mess he was in. He prayed to the God he’d been ignoring for months and asked him to come to his rescue.