Page 5 of A Misguided Devotion

Father strode toward him. “Walk with me, Will. There is much to talk about.”

That was encouraging. Was he already considering giving him the townhouse? Abandoning his sketchbook, William accompanied him outside into the gardens. For several minutes, Father said nothing. What did he wish to say that was so difficult to voice?

William took advantage of the quiet. “I want to talk to you about my future.”

“Excellent. I’m glad you’ve been giving it some thought, as the future is uppermost in my mind.”

“I wish to study at the Royal Academy. Could you be persuaded to let me have Harting House? I need a place to paint, and if I were based in St James’s Square, my clients could come to my studio instead of me having to go to them. It would make my life far easier…”

Full of hope, he turned to look into his father’s face. His words trailed off. There was no answering glow in the older man’s eyes, and his mouth had a firmness about it that William recognised. He would not like what Father was about to say.

“Let me stop you right there. I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

“But it would be invaluable to me. You must see that.”

“I have other plans for Harting House.”

“You mean to occupy it yourself?”

“No. Your grandmother rarely goes to London now, and we will continue to stay at Wessex House when we’re in town.”

“Then why won’t you let me have it?”

“Because your aunt has asked if she might live there instead of in the dower house here on the estate—and I have agreed.”

William saw his plans going up in smoke and sought to douse the flames. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange to me. The townhouse is a far more valuable property.” And of far more use to him.

Father raised his eyebrows just a touch, and William discovered, to his annoyance, that the action could still shoot heat up his neck and into his face.

“I am sorry it interferes with your wishes, but your aunt’s needs are greater than yours.”

Of course they were. Everyone else’s needs were always greater than his. His father didn’t take his art seriously. His ambitions were unimportant. He was unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. “I see.”

“Do you? Your aunt has lost her husband and has three unmarried daughters in her care. She has never thrived in the country, and residing on the Holybourne estate would only remind her of all she once had. Not only that, but she would find it cramped in the dower house after living for so long in a much larger home. With great wealth comes great potential for doing good. It is up to us to ensure we use what the Lord gives us well. I have the means to relieve her suffering, and that is what I intend to do. Harting House will continue to provide her ladyship with accommodation suited to her rank and income. Besides, I cannot think it would help familial relations for her to live so close to our family.”

William jerked around to face his father. What did he mean by that? The dower house was no closer to where they lived than Holybourne House, unless—

“We’re leaving the rectory and moving here?”

Father nodded.

“But I thought you didn’t approve of absentee rectors.”

“I do not.” His father exhaled deeply. “I’m giving up my parish.”

William’s jaw dropped. That was unexpected. He had assumed Father would remain a rector to the end of his days.

“I don’t understand.”

“As God did not bless my brother with sons, he must have intended the earldom to come to me. To take my seat in the House of Lords, I must be in town, and to manage this estate, I need to be here. If I’m splitting my time between Holybourne and London, I cannot be in West Meon as well. The people deserve to have a clergyman who lives among them. I cannot reconcile the two tasks, and so I must learn to serve God in a different capacity. Being an earl is no less a calling than being a minister.”

Though he saw his father’s logic, William’s mind reeled at the implications. If his father was giving up what he loved, would he expect his son to give up his painting?

No, it was not the same. William could happily settle in London. It would be easy enough to combine his duty with his art. Not having the townhouse was a disappointment, but he’d get over it. With a raise in his allowance, he could take lodgings in town. That would work just as well. Maybe even better.

“Will you increase my income then, so I can rent my own rooms?”

“Next spring. When you reach your majority.”