Page 107 of A Misguided Devotion

“Do you think Mr Barrington found the letter? Is that why Miss Lacey was prevented from leaving?”

“I don’t believe so. How would he know there was a letter that could incriminate him?” said Mr Jenkin.

“Then what happened to her?”

The riding officer stroked his chin. “Perhaps she endangered his mission. Last night, I shared my suspicions that Laura’s father has been harbouring escaped French prisoners in his basement and helping them to leave the country. That’s what the letter was about. I forbade my wife from going down there. It didn’t occur to me to warn Miss Lacey against it too. Do you think she took it upon herself to investigate?”

“That would be just like Kitty.” Sacrificing her own safety to gather evidence that would convict those aiding the French. “I’ll start my search down there.”

“No!” Mr Jenkin thumped his fist down on the bedcovers. “It should be me chasing after the criminals, not you. It’s too dangerous. Let me pen another letter to summon assistance.”

“There isn’t time for that.” William met the man’s eyes. “The woman I love is in danger, and I can’t risk more delay. Write what you will and get Sutton to give it to Mr Warren. He’s waiting outside the front of the house with my horse. When I don’t reappear by the hour we set, he’ll go for help, but you can tell him who to summon.”

“I understand, but don’t be taken in by anything Mr Barrington says. He’ll be doing everything he can to present an honourable facade, so my accusations would seem outrageous. Without evidence, I can prove nothing, but if he’s holding Miss Lacey against her will, then he’s afraid. Be careful. A cornered man might make a mistake—but he’s at his most dangerous.”

His words accelerated William’s already racing pulse. “I’ll do my best.”

“Please, save Kitty,” said Mrs Jenkin, wiping away a tear. “I can’t bear to think that my father would harm her—”

Pain tore at his heart. Neither could he. “Pray for her, Mrs Jenkin, and for me. That God will keep us safe until help comes.”

Because he had a nasty suspicion he was going to need it.

William hurried down the stairs and across the entrance hall, which was mercifully free of staff. Down another flight to the basement, and along the corridor to where more steps descended to the cellars.

Without hesitation, he sped down these and pulled down the handle of the door on his right. To his surprise, it opened to reveal an empty room. A wooden table and chair. A bed stripped of all but its mattress. He prodded the ticking. Feather-stuffed. Rather superior for the supposed Mad Cousin Silas, but on its own, not evidence of anything but a generous relation.

Was there nothing to aid his search for Kitty? He didn’t even know if she’d been down here.

He walked over to the table and ran his fingers over the surface, scooping a few crumbs onto the floor. The first sign of recent occupation.

On examining the space more closely, he spotted a fresh ink stain on the edge of the wood and a slight burn on the mattress ticking. The sort of mark that could have been made by a smouldering cigar. As he bent down to study it, he caught a dull whiff of tobacco smoke. Evidence of Kitty’s nighttime smoker?

As he examined the rest of the space, his gaze was drawn to something black in the far corner. A scrap of lace. From a lady’s dress. A mourning gown he knew well.

He picked up the piece of material and dropped it into his coat pocket, dread pulling at his emotions. Kitty had been here—and now she had disappeared. It was time he forced Mr Barrington to answer some questions.

Fired with resolve, he swivelled around and immediately recoiled.

Standing in the doorway with his arms folded, staring at William with an unfathomable expression on his face, was the very man he sought.

“Lord Droxford! What in heaven’s name are you doing here?” Mr Barrington asked. “I thought you departed yesterday.”

This was no time for niceties. William needed to tackle the situation head on. “I’m looking for Miss Lacey.”

“Did your sisters not tell you? She’s not here.”

Was the man going to play ignorant? “Isn’t she?”

“She left. I fear she was disappointed in love.”

Another attempt to prod him with guilt for leaving her. “Where did she go? She’s taken none of her things with her.”

Mr Barrington laid a hand on his shoulder. William shrugged it off at once. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but a woman with no prospects, who has been left by her lover—”

“How dare you cast a slur on Miss Lacey’s reputation?”

“Forgive me. I assumed that was why she refused me. Out of mortification.”