33. Chapter 33
The next day, William was woken by the sound of someone moving around his room. Forgetting where he was, he jerked upright, but flopped back onto the mattress at the sight of his valet.
“Good morning, your lordship,” said Keating. “May I say how glad I am to see you in one piece?”
“I’m rather glad myself.”
“And how are you feeling? I assumed you would want to go down for breakfast, but if you need more rest…”
Breakfast? That must mean it was nearing ten o’clock.
He had slept late. He threw back the bedclothes and tossed his nightcap onto his pillow.
His arms and legs ached from the unaccustomed swimming, but he had no intention of staying in bed any longer.
He needed to see Kitty. To find out how she was faring after their ordeal.
To assure her of his continued devotion.
By the mercy of God, they’d been rescued. Now William would do everything in his power to ensure their future happiness together.
After submitting to his valet’s ministrations, he hurried downstairs to the dining room. Anthony and his sisters were already seated, but the person he most wanted to see was not there.
“Where’s Kitty?”
“Stop looking so anxious,” said Hetta. “Kitty is well and in good spirits. I spoke to her before I came down. Last night, she was very cold and wet, and very, very tired, but Mrs Rowson took care of her. She ensured she was warmed up by a long soak in the bathtub and given something to eat before being put to bed in one of my nightgowns. Mrs Rowson insisted she rest a while longer and carried up a tray.”
What a relief! Kitty was fine. But William could not help being disappointed she had not come to breakfast. He hoped she would not keep to her room for long. Propriety forbade him from visiting her there, and he dearly wanted to see her.
He sat down at the table and filled his plate. He was ravenous. Inevitably, the conversation dwelled on the events of the previous day, and William was bombarded with questions about what had happened to him and Kitty.
They were interrupted by the sound of voices in the entrance hall. “Is my darling boy here, Rowson?”
William ran a hand through his hair. Grandmama. The family member who was most likely to object to his marrying Kitty.
“They are at breakfast, Your Grace. There was something of an incident yesterday.”
“What’s that you say? An incident?”
“I am certain you would prefer to hear the story from Lord Droxford, Your Grace. Would you like to go to your room—”
“No, no. I want to see my grandson—”
William raised his eyebrows at his companions, and they all rose and followed him into the hall to greet the Duchess.
“My dear, dear boy,” said his grandmother, enfolding him in a suffocating hug. “It’s been too long. I’ve left the Duke in Plymouth with Augusta. He dotes on her baby, but I had a mind to find out if you’d made it to Weymouth. What’s this I hear about an incident? Come and tell me all.”
Without loosening her hold of her darling boy, she uttered a cursory greeting to his sisters and a rather extravagant one to Anthony, before leading William up to the drawing room with the others trailing behind.
For the first time in his life, he realised how unbalanced it was for the Duchess to lavish all her affection on him, whilst practically ignoring the girls. How self-centred he must have been not to have noticed it before.
As he told the tale of their rescue, he drew his sisters and Anthony into the conversation, allowing them to tell their own parts. He had almost finished when the door opened and Kitty came into the room.
William’s eyes glowed with appreciation.
He thought she had never looked better. Attired in a gown of Hetta’s, and with her hair arranged in a gentler style, covering her pock-marked forehead, Kitty’s inner beauty shone through.
She met his smile with a shy one of her own, and a gentle blush suffused her cheeks as he took her hand and drew her forward.
“Grandmama, please allow me to present Miss Lacey, the lady I’ve been telling you about. Kitty, this is my grandmother, Her Grace, the Duchess of Wessex.”
She sank into a deep curtsey.
His cheerfulness faded as Grandmama gave the barest nod in response, as if to emphasise their difference in rank. She turned up her nose as she studied Kitty from head to toe before returning her gaze to him.
“This is the girl you rescued? I didn’t expect her to be so tall. How in heaven’s name did you manage it?”
William bristled. Kitty’s height was perfect for a six-foot man like himself.
Eyes flashing with annoyance at his grandmother’s rudeness, he answered without raising his voice.
“Because Miss Lacey did as I asked and trusted me to pull her through the water rather than flailing her arms, as many might have done when faced with such a perilous situation.”
“You were born to be a hero, William,” the Duchess said, giving his cheek a friendly squeeze. “How gallant of you to save a stranger at the risk of your own life.”
“I would have tried to rescue anyone, whether or not I knew them, if it was in my power, but Miss Lacey is much more to me than a stranger.”
He hesitated. Would his grandmother take the news of his betrothal better if he waited? His eyes flicked to Kitty, and love swelled in his heart. There was no way he could keep this to himself. “I asked her to marry me.”
“Marriage?”
William winced at the outrage in her voice.
“That is taking your gallantry too far. It was an accident, nothing more. There can be no need to offer for the girl. I forbid it. I have other plans for you.”
He gritted his teeth. “I’ve made my choice, Grandmama. I offered her my hand, and she accepted.”
The Duchess’s forehead wrinkled, her mouth pinched with displeasure. She was not used to having her wishes challenged—especially by him.
“A promise given by a minor is worth nothing in the eyes of the law. Even less so, as it was made under duress. No one will think the worse of you if you change your mind.”
Before William could assure his grandmother that he had no intention of retracting his pledge, Kitty spoke. “Your Grace, I will not hold Lord Droxford to our betrothal if he wishes to be released. He has only to say the word.”
Which he would never give. Why was she even saying that? Did she still think herself unworthy of marrying him?
“There. What a sensible gal. Knows she is no match for you. No doubt her father is some merchant or tradesman.”
He braced himself as Kitty pushed her shoulders back. He knew what was coming.
“My father was a soldier, as was his father—Lord Edward Hampton—before him.”
The Duchess collapsed into her chair with a squeal.
“You’re his granddaughter, aren’t you? That Mr Bruce.
The one who wrote to the Duke claiming he had brought up Lord Edward’s rightful heir.
His letter convinced Denmead that the dukedom did not rest with him alone.
As a result, my son ran away to join the army.
Was it not enough that you ruined my life?
Are you determined to ruin my grandson’s as well? ”
William grimaced. Winning his grandmother over was going to be harder than he thought.
Kitty contracted her brows as the Duchess appeared to swoon. Was Her Grace unwell, or was she using every weapon at her disposal to dissuade William from marrying her? She suspected the latter, but genuine or not, her indisposition drew her grandchildren’s concern.
Charlotte hurried over, vinaigrette in hand, whilst Hetta grabbed a fan from the table and waved it in front of the Duchess’s face. A frown marred William’s forehead as he tried to talk to his grandmother, but she kept her eyes closed and did not respond.
While they fussed over the old lady, Kitty slipped out of the room. As her presence had sparked such a fierce reaction, it seemed wise to make herself scarce until the Duchess recovered. To her surprise, a footman approached her as she entered the hall, holding out a silver tray.
“A letter for you, madam.”
Who could be writing to her? Kitty’s heart leapt. Edward?
With a word of thanks, she snatched her correspondence, only to discover her excitement was premature. The direction was in Laura’s handwriting.
Stifling her disappointment, she broke open the seal and perused the missive. A hand drifted to her mouth. Oh no! She would have to leave. Go to Mrs Barrington’s house—a place to which she hoped she would never return. What would the old woman say to her if she turned up on her doorstep again?
Kitty’s eyes lingered for a moment on the drawing room door behind her, but she could not enter. Not now. She would have to depart without bidding William goodbye. Grabbing a pelisse and bonnet from Hetta’s wardrobe, Kitty hurried downstairs, determined to leave before her resolve faltered.
As she reached the foot of the staircase, she observed a tall gentleman in the entrance hall being relieved of his greatcoat and hat. His white-blond hair and piercing blue eyes reminded her so much of William that she had no doubt he was his father—Lord Harting.
The man’s expression was unreadable as he nodded his head toward her. “Miss Lacey, I assume.”
“Your lordship.” She sank into a curtsey. “How did you know my name?”
“I could claim divine knowledge—” he said with a twist of his lips.
Kitty’s mouth curled in response. “Because, until recently, you were a clergyman?”
“Exactly so. However, the simple expedient was a letter my son wrote to me. Which is what brought us here. To find out what manner of woman had ensnared him.”
Her smile faded. “Ensnared? You speak as if I have trapped Lord Droxford into marriage.”
“Many a woman has plotted to secure a title.” He met her gaze full on. “Have you?”
Kitty’s eyes flashed. “I assure you I would never stoop so low. Don’t you think I would have persuaded William to elope with me by now if I were such a scheming creature?
I fell in love with your son long before I knew he was heir to an earldom—a fact I learned from his sisters, because he had omitted to inform me.
I would much rather he didn’t have such grand relations.
It makes things complicated, given my rank in life.
Even more so because of my father’s ancestry. ”
“In what way?”
“My papa was the natural son of Lord Edward Hampton.” Kitty waited to see how Lord Harting received that piece of information. His eyes grew large at the revelation, but there was no hint of censure.
“Lord Droxford said you would not hold that against me. That you would be more interested in my faith and character than my ancestry, but the Duchess has taken me in great dislike, and I can’t help but agree with her that the connection would be something of an embarrassment to your family.”
“William is correct. A noble character is worth far more than title or rank. I do not blame you for actions you had no control over.”
That was a relief, but was it enough for him to accept her as his son’s bride? She stared up into Lord Harting’s eyes, which reminded her forcibly of William’s, and waited for him to continue.
“You are not what I expected.”
“You’re surprised I’m not a beauty.”
“Forgive my bluntness, but yes. William’s devotion to his art has led to him giving undue weight to outward appearance.”
“Then you should rejoice that he has looked deeper. It was weak of me to accept his proposal when I knew he was not of age—”
“And there is the rub. Although you realised he was a minor, you accepted my son’s offer, and yet you claim you’re not manipulating him.”
Kitty tried not to let the accusation rankle.
His lordship was trying to protect his son.
He didn’t understand what they’d been through together.
“The circumstances were extenuating. I’m sure Lord Droxford will explain.
As I told Her Grace, I will not hold him to his promise if he wishes to be released. ”
“It is a promise he should not have made. I hoped William would delay making you an offer until he had received my permission.”
“Do you intend to give him that permission?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.
“No.”
Did his lordship expect her to dissolve in a puddle of tears? Abandon the love of her life after being saved from death? Surely God had not given them back their lives only to rip them apart?
“Then there is nothing more for us to say. I trust you will look on me more favourably when William is free to make his own choice.”
“Your confidence is misplaced, Miss Lacey. He will not risk losing his grandmother’s favour, and if the Duchess is set against the match, she will convince him to give you up.” He paused for a moment, before continuing in a wistful tone. “A pity, as I believe you could be the making of my son.”
“I’m sorry William has led you to doubt him, but you should be proud of the man he has become. Kindness is in his very nature, and even though he had every reason to dislike me, he couldn’t stand by and watch me suffer. It is because of his selfless love and the grace of God that I am here today.”
“I look forward to becoming acquainted with this paragon.”
Kitty dipped into a deep curtsey. “I must leave. Please give William my love.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Mrs Barrington’s house in Wyke Regis.”
“Do you have a carriage at your disposal? Let my coachman take you.”
After their contentious conversation, the unexpected kindness caught her off guard. But why should she be surprised? Lord Harting was just like William.
Still exhausted from the previous day’s exertions, she realised it would be churlish to refuse. “Thank you, your lordship. That is most kind.”
As Kitty entered the Earl’s carriage, her mask of confidence wavered. How presumptuous of her to claim she knew William better than his own father. If Lord Harting thought his son would renege on his promise, was she foolish to believe otherwise?
No. His family would do their best to persuade him to give her up, but after what they had been through together, she trusted William to be true to his word.
She would keep believing that his love would endure, but until he was free to make his own choice, she was on her own.
If his lordship forbade his daughters from helping her, she would have nowhere to go.
How would she survive the next six months?