Page 57 of A Misguided Devotion

A chill ran down Kitty’s back. Had Hugh meant only to give the man a stark warning, or had William saved him from a watery death?

Was she making too much of a near accident? Such things belonged in a Gothic novel, not in real life.

Chapter 17

By morning, the wind had dropped, but rain had arrived. When Laura’s birthday dawned, it was still raining. Kitty hoped her friend had not set her heart on going for a walk along the clifftop. It seemed likely they would be forced to spend the entire day indoors.

Kitty recalled when she had turned twenty-one, two years earlier, and it brought a wistful smile to her lips. How different everything had been while her grandfather was still alive.

She joined her friend in the drawing room after breakfast. Despite the weather, Laura was in the sunniest of moods, preening in front of William and Hugh.

“Look what Papa gave me.” She lifted her chin so Kitty could admire the stunning emeralds around her neck. “And these.” She tilted her head one way and then the other to show off the matching earrings.

Kitty held out the pin-case she had made for her, embroidered with flowers. “Many happy returns of the day.”

Her friend took the modest gift. “Thank you.”

After a single glance, she put it aside and went over to the mirror to admire the much more valuable present her father had given her, whilst Kitty sat down next to William.

“I do not care to see your offering discarded so readily,” he said in a low voice, meant only for her ears.

She shrugged. “Why are you surprised? Who would look at a humble but useful pin-case when compared with such magnificent jewellery? She’ll appreciate it later, when her father has locked the gems away in his safe.”

“But you made it yourself. That took time, making it more valuable in my sight.”

Did he realise what he was saying? “You prize the practical handmade gift over the natural radiance of the emeralds?”

“Yes, I do.”

Kitty wanted to believe him, but if it were true, wouldn’t he judge a person for what was inside instead of being blinded by a glittering exterior? “I find that hard to accept. You value beauty above all else. That is what you want to paint—not the mundane.”

William opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it again. He must have realised the futility of disputing what was so obvious.

He would never look past the imperfections of her appearance to see her for the woman she was. A woman who was in far more danger of falling in love with him than was safe.

When Laura had stopped admiring the emeralds, she glided over to the window. “I wish it would stop raining. I want to go for a long walk along the cliff top this afternoon.”

“Why don’t you travel into Weymouth and buy yourself a new bonnet?” Hugh said, giving her chin a gentle squeeze. “Mr Merry may borrow my carriage and drive you over to the mainland.”

Laura stroked the emeralds around her neck and failed to meet her father’s eyes.

“Would you mind if we went tomorrow instead, Papa? It always takes me so long to choose a hat, and I don’t want to spend hours inside a shop today. I’m still hopeful the weather will clear up later, so I’ll get my walk.”

“Very well, if Mr Merry is happy to oblige, he can drive you and Catherine into Weymouth in the morning. I expect you both to return with new bonnets.”

Kitty heated under the warmth of Hugh’s gaze. She would make very sure she did not come back with anything paid for by him.

Hugh withdrew to work, leaving the young people to pass the day inside as best they could. Laura struggled to settle into any occupation. Cards were tedious. Reading poetry to each other was boring. Walking up and down the Long Gallery was not the same as being outside. Kitty had never known her friend to be so fractious.

Time and again, she went to the window to see if the rain had cleared, and just before dinner, her persistence was rewarded when the sun came out.

As the meal ended, she asked permission to go for a walk down to the cove.

Hugh smiled indulgently at his daughter. “Very well, my dear. I am sure Mr Merry will be pleased to keep you company.”

“Thank you, Papa.”

She bussed his cheek and turned to leave the room, but her father laid a hand on her arm. “Laura—the emeralds.”