Page 38 of A Misguided Devotion

Why couldn’t he win her over? All he wanted was to see that expression again. Would it elude him forever? Maybe Kitty was right, and he needed to be patient. He would just have to keep trying.

When he joined the ladies in the drawing room before dinner, William determined not to let his irritation show.

“Did you have a pleasant afternoon?” he asked them, as Mr Barrington walked into the room.

The man’s brow pinched together as his eyes rested on his daughter. “Were you not sitting for your portrait today?”

Miss Barrington’s cheeks reddened under his obvious displeasure. Perhaps here was a chance to win her favour.

“I made excellent progress this morning, and it seemed a crime to let the sunny afternoon pass by without enjoying it. There is no telling how many more we will get this summer.”

His words won a hint of a smile from Miss Barrington. In view of their recent interactions, that had to be deemed a success.

“Mr Merry is very talented,” Kitty said. “He is creating a remarkable representation of Laura.”

“Excellent. Perhaps we can persuade him to paint your portrait next.”

William glanced at her to see how she had taken the suggestion. Her colour was heightened and her lips pursed. Not well, apparently. Did she doubt his ability to depict her likeness?

Painting Kitty would be a challenge. It would be easy enough to capture her features, but she was not classically beautiful, like Miss Barrington. She was always going on about inner beauty being more important. Was there a way he could paint her to let that shine through?

Before he could assure her that he would relish the opportunity to stretch his skills, a visitor was announced. Mr Jenkin.

William recognised the riding officer at once. What was he doing here?

Mr Barrington made the introductions. “Mr Jenkin is a great help to me. I challenge you to find a more conscientious member of the preventive force along the entire coast of England. Mr Merry is our guest here while painting my daughter’s portrait.”

The man acknowledged him with a stiff bow. “I see.”

Yes. Mr Jenkin saw, and judging from his pinched mouth, the news that William was staying at Rufus House was unpalatable.

The newcomer leaned toward Mr Barrington. “May I have a word with you, sir? It is a matter of some urgency. Another couple of officers escaped from their parole of honour in Alresford, and one of them was taken up in Dorchester.”

The older man shook his head. “Only fifteen miles away? That is a concern.” He smiled apologetically at the ladies. “Please excuse us whilst we discuss this business.”

Mr Jenkin’s eyes lingered on Miss Barrington for a moment too long before he moved to the other end of the drawing room with her father. William had seen the signs before. The poor fellow was smitten.

It was only to be expected. The lady was stunning. Should he seek the opportunity to reassure Mr Jenkin that he only wanted to paint her? That he was not competing for her affections?

He doubted it would help. The man wouldn’t believe him, and it would not further either of their causes.

William suspected his invitation to take Miss Barrington’s likeness had only come because her father knew of his wealth and title and hoped there was a match in the making. His experience of the world suggested that if Mr Barrington had his sights set on a titled gentleman for his daughter, he would not welcome a preventive officer in his stead.

No, Mr Jenkin didn’t stand a chance—and it would be cruel to encourage him to think he did.

Kitty had been studying Laura from the moment Mr Jenkin walked into the room. She had suspected an attachment since the first time she had seen them together. The conviction had grown when she’d noticed them exchanging covert looks in church. Now, she was sure there was a definite partiality—on his side, at least. Nothing else could explain his barely concealed hostility toward Mr Merry.

Laura’s feelings were harder to judge, but perhaps she would give herself away during the evening.

“Mr Jenkin is a most diligent officer to visit your father at such an advanced hour,” Kitty said, “or do you think he has another incentive?”

Laura batted the idea aside with her hand. “He often calls this late when French officers have escaped their parole. Time is of the essence if he wants to claim the reward. Papa says they don’t pay men in Mr Jenkin’s position very well.”

Kitty was taken aback. “That’s rather harsh. Don’t you think he’s just doing his duty?”

Laura shrugged. “I expect he is hoping for a free dinner.”

“It must be hard for the officers who have escaped, to know there is a price on their heads, and they are being hunted like criminals,” said Mr Merry.