30. Chapter 30 #2
“Gone?” That was unexpected. “I don’t believe it. Kitty said she would stay with Mrs Jenkin until the woman’s husband was well enough to leave.”
“Mr Barrington told us himself,” said Charlotte, climbing out of the carriage after Hetta. “The man seemed quite upset about it, claiming it was his fault for pushing his suit on her so soon after you had departed. Before she had recovered from her disappointment.”
Her disappointment? Was that line designed to make William feel bad for not asking her to marry him? Because if it was, it succeeded. He should have left her with something more solid than the hope of a proposal when he came of age.
But that still didn’t explain why she’d fled. “It makes no sense. Kitty had nowhere to go.” She would not have run unless… Had that man made improper advances toward her? The thought rendered William sick to the stomach.
Anthony was the last to leave the carriage, and as the ladies mounted the steps to the house, he laid a hand on William’s arm to restrain him.
“There is something else that Mr Barrington said. Just to me. That he feared Miss Lacey’s disappointment had overset her mind, and he worried for her safety.”
William flared his nostrils. “Kitty would never take her own life. You should have heard her urging me to trust God, even though she herself had gone through so much. Something does not ring true about this. Did you speak to Mrs Jenkin?”
“We were not given the chance. Our audience was with Mr Barrington alone, and after a brief conversation, we were dismissed. No offer of refreshment, despite your sisters’ rank. Rather different from the obsequious attention he paid to you.”
Too different. Why did the man want to cast doubt on Kitty’s sanity? Could she have discovered something she shouldn’t have? Her disappearance made that all too likely. William’s heart rate soared. Was Kitty in danger? He needed to go after her. At once.
He bolted up the steps to the house. “Rowson, please ensure that the speediest horse in the stables is readied for me without delay.”
“Make that the two fastest,” said Anthony, coming up behind him. “You might need me.”
After grabbing his hat and crop, William darted into the drawing room for a word with his sisters. “We’re going to look for Kitty. Pray that we’ll find her.” He couldn’t face the possibility that he would fail her again.
Their anxious heads nodded at him before he hurried away, and within minutes, he and Anthony were riding for Portland, as fast as their mounts and the other traffic on the road allowed.
The tide was low, so when they reached the ruins of Sandsfoot Castle, they took the path down to the beach and galloped through the shallows toward the island, kicking up foam with every stride.
After climbing the steep incline, they urged their horses forward until Rufus House came into view. William slowed his pace, and Anthony reined in beside him.
“I need to speak to Mrs Jenkin—and her husband too, if he’s awake. I’m hoping they can give me some idea of what’s happened to Kitty. At least they’ll be able to tell me when they last saw her.”
He squinted at the building before him. Was it wise to announce his arrival by marching up to the front door? Perhaps he should try to gain entry around the rear.
They both dismounted, and William passed his reins to Anthony.
“Is that a subtle way of saying you don’t want my company?”
“Mr Barrington won’t welcome me into his house, so I’ll have to slip in through the servants’ entrance. One can sneak more easily than two. If you do not hear from me within the hour, go for help. If I get on the wrong side of the man, I might need it.”
Anthony raised his eyebrows. “There is a place for sneaking, but this is not it. It is only polite that you should pay a morning call on Mrs Jenkin, to enquire after her husband’s health.
Think of your grandmother and be the haughtiest viscount you can be.
Act as if nothing is wrong. Your title will take you further than you suppose. ”
His friend sounded so confident that William was inclined to believe him.
“Perhaps you’re right. If I use the servants’ entrance, there are too many chances that Mr Barrington or Blake would spot me.
Provided the footman can be persuaded to let me in, I have a far better chance of gaining an audience with Mr Jenkin and his wife if I enter at the front. ”
Leaving Anthony with the horses, William strolled up to the door and rapped the knocker three times. A servant appeared in the doorway almost at once and stared at him as if he’d seen a ghost.
“The Viscount Droxford, to see Mrs Jenkin,” he said in the most imperious voice he could muster.
“Mr Barr—”
“Did I ask for Mr Barrington?”
“No, but—”
“Do you make a habit of keeping viscounts waiting on your doorstep?”
“No, but—”
The door drifted open as the footman deliberated what to do with him. It was enough. William kicked the wood with his foot and propelled himself through the gap.
“My time is short, so we can dispense with the formalities. There is no need to show me up. I remember the way.”
Without waiting for a response, he shot past the servant and up the stairs.
Whether intimidated by his manner or reasoning that it was more important to please a viscount than his master, the man made no move to stop him.
When he reached the landing, William slipped into the deserted Long Gallery and hurried along its familiar length rather than risk passing Mr Barrington’s bedchamber.
At the far end, he checked the corridor before approaching Mrs Jenkin’s room.
His gentle rap was soon answered, and he pushed past a surprised Sutton before she could say a word and shut the door behind him. “I must speak with your mistress at once.”
The maid seemed to hear the urgency in his voice and showed him in.
Mrs Jenkin looked up and her lips spread into a smile. “Lord Droxford, how kind of you to call—”
“Where’s Miss Lacey? I’ve been told she’s gone.”
“There’s no need to fret, your lordship. She left first thing this morning. You must have crossed paths with her.”
“Then your father was telling the truth. She isn’t here.”
A thumb slipped into Mrs Jenkin’s mouth, and she bit at the nail. “Oh dear. Has he discovered her disappearance already? If he knew of the letter she carried, he would be even more distressed.”
“What letter?”
“The one I wrote to you last night,” said Mr Jenkin. “I’m too weak to act, so I needed help to send word to the Transport Board about what was going on here. You were the only person I trusted not to be corrupt.”
How ironic, given that they had been at loggerheads for most of the time they had known each other.
“Miss Lacey promised to take the missive to you. She knew how important it was. I told her not to return.” Mr Jenkin frowned. “I confess I’m concerned she hasn’t made contact with you yet.”
So was William. There was a slim possibility she had reached his grandmother’s house without being seen by him or his sisters, but what if she had not? What would Mr Barrington or Blake do to her if they discovered her carrying a letter that would incriminate them?
He couldn’t wait to act because she might yet prove to be unharmed. Kitty’s safety was at stake. “We’re assuming she’s already left the house. I’m going to look in her room for any clues as to her whereabouts.”
Once Sutton had checked the corridor was empty, he slipped out of Mrs Jenkin’s bedchamber and around the corner into Kitty’s.
Heart pounding, he took in his surroundings. On the floor by the window was a bandbox. Casting propriety aside, he rifled through its contents. A few books. Some clothes. No sign of the letter that Mr Jenkin had talked about. Were these things she had considered taking but had left behind?
His hand rested on something hard, wrapped inside one of the garments. Her mother’s pearls. The only thing of monetary value she possessed. Without a doubt, she would have taken them with her if she could.
Only two possibilities remained. Either Kitty had fled in such distress that she had not dared return for them. Or she had not left as planned, because someone had prevented her from going. As none of them had seen her on the road, the second option seemed the more likely.
Bandbox in hand, he slipped out of the room and back into Mrs Jenkin’s chamber. His throat went dry as two pairs of eyes stared at him, an unspoken question in their depths. Emotion deprived him of speech. William dropped the bandbox onto Mrs Jenkin’s lap and allowed his findings to speak for him.
She gasped. “Kitty’s things! But why are they here?”
“Because she didn’t leave.”
Mr Jenkin grasped his wife’s hand and lowered his gaze, unable to meet William’s. “I’m sorry, your lordship. If I had thought the risk was so great, I wouldn’t have asked it of her.”
William didn’t blame him. He blamed himself. He should never have left Rufus House without her.