Page 21 of A Misguided Devotion

No, she did not. The prospect of entering Hugh’s private rooms made her cheeks heat. “I think I have seen quite enough bedchambers, thank you. They are, after all, much like each other.”

Her answer elicited a warm smile from Laura—the friendliest expression Kitty had observed all day. It was obvious the girl couldn’t wait to finish the tour.

“No need to go down the other corridors then, as it’s only more of the same, and as I’m sure you have no wish to see any more servants’ rooms, given your recent experience, we can skip the attics too.”

She glanced once more at the pocket watch hanging from her waist.

“Just time for a quick look at the kitchens and Mrs Williams’s room, and then we can explore outside.”

What was the hurry? There was no rush to go for a walk, as dinner was still hours away. Unless… Could Laura be planning to meet someone?

The kitchen was equipped with a modern oven and had an impressive range of copper pans on display. It was presided over by a cook who bobbed three curtseys in a row and then retreated to the stove. Not wishing to get in the way, they bid a hasty exit and moved on to the housekeeper’s room.

Mrs Williams welcomed them inside, but Kitty couldn’t banish the feeling they were intruding and was relieved when Laura hustled them out again after a brief look around.

They returned to the servants’ stair, beside which was a back door into the garden. Opposite was another set of steps, leading downward. Kitty paused and stared into the gloom.

“What’s down there?”

Laura grabbed her arm and moved toward the rear exit. “Just the cellars and the butler’s pantry. You don’t want to go down there. It’s cold and damp and altogether rather horrid.”

What an extreme reaction! As if the basement scared her. Had she got lost down there as a child? Then again, given how desperate she was not to delay their walk, maybe Laura was just trying to curtail their tour.

“Come on. Let’s go outside,” she said, pulling Kitty toward the door.

It seemed increasingly likely that her companion expected to meet someone. Was it her duty to prevent it? She hoped not, because she doubted she could, but she would have to keep her eyes open.

“I think a pelisse and bonnet are in order if you plan to take me for a clifftop walk.”

Laura’s shoulders sagged. “You’re right, of course.”

Attired in outdoor garments, they went out into the garden.

“What beautiful flowers,” Kitty said, stopping to admire the roses. “You must love spending time out here.”

“Not really. I prefer walking along the cliff path.”

Linking her arm through Kitty’s, she led her toward a door in the rear boundary wall. Kitty spotted a second exit across the grass to the right and drew them to a stop.

“Where does that gate lead?”

Laura gave it a cursory glance. “Nowhere of importance. It’s a private path to St Andrew’s.”

“A church?”

“Not now. All that’s left is a ruin. It was abandoned when the cliff began to fall away. Quite romantic, I suppose, with the view out to sea, but there are very few places to sit, and it’s somewhat eerie with all the graves in clear sight. The derelict building is rather overgrown and could be deemed dangerous.”

It sounded intriguing. “Will you show it to me? I’d love to see the old church.”

The other woman’s mouth pinched. “Another time. I don’t wish to soil my dress walking through the undergrowth.”

Though Kitty would have liked to argue, she had to remember they were not on an equal footing. She was only the companion, and Laura’s wishes must hold sway. With this thought in mind, she allowed herself to be led through the other gate onto the path beyond.

She could return another time. On her own. Her friend had dismissed the ruin as unworthy of her interest, but Kitty yearned to explore a place where people had worshipped for hundreds of years. It would be the ideal spot to reflect and pray. Where no one would disturb her.

William strode along the cliff path toward Bow and Arrow Castle. He perched on his usual rock, near the garden gate of Rufus House, and took out his sketchbook. He waited there every day, hoping for another glimpse of his muse.

It had been easy to coax Miss Barrington’s address from Mr Penn, though it had cost him some gentle teasing. The Governor had a romantic side to him and was not at all put out to discover his young friend’s motivation for choosing to stay awhile on Portland.