Page 76 of A Misguided Devotion

His cheeks reddened. “My name is William Merry. I have not lied to you.”

“But the rest?”

“Yes. My father has recently come into the title, and I chose to slip back into being plain Mr Merry.”

“I wish you’d told me.” She looked across the table at her father. “You knew, didn’t you?”

He nodded. “Forgive me, child. It was for your own good. Lord Droxford did not want his time with you disturbed.”

Hugh could say what he liked, but Kitty knew better. It had always been about William’s painting and not wanting people to speculate that staying here meant something more.

“Or maybe his lordship didn’t wish to advertise his presence here because of his connection with the smugglers,” said Mr Jenkin.

Hugh glared at the riding officer. “Enough! You overstep yourself. Even if Lord Droxford were in league with the scoundrels, do you think such an accusation would cause you anything but trouble?”

Kitty was not sure which gentleman looked more aggrieved at his words.

“As it is, I can vouch for his lordship. He told me what he’d seen last night, and I sent Blake away at once to take word to you. If the message didn’t get through, the fault is mine. Are you going to accuse me of being in league with the smugglers because my servant failed me? Or are you trying to deflect the blame? Is it not equally valid to question if the delay was in the delivery of the information or the response?”

“I came as soon as I received your message.”

“I will take your word for it—as I expect you to take mine.”

The riding officer acknowledged Hugh’s reply and then rose from his seat. “Please excuse me. I have work to do and fear I have overstayed my welcome.”

Poor Mr Jenkin! He was eaten up with jealousy, and it was clouding his judgement. He was pointing the finger at the wrong man.

Kitty had been with William, so she knew he was telling the truth. Which meant that someone else was playing a double game. Was the preventive officer trying to divert blame from himself? Unlikely. Why draw attention to the timing of the message if he had received word last night? It didn’t make sense.

Could Hugh be lying? No, Kitty had heard him give the orders to his servant. Which left Blake. Had he gone to inform Mr Jenkin as his master had bid him, or had he warned the smugglers instead?

William wriggled in his seat. He was not sorry to see the back of Mr Jenkin. The man’s jealousy was extreme, and it made him feel such a fraud. To steal a woman away from a man so very much in love was a dreadful crime to commit, and that he did not care for her or want her shot darts of guilt into his soul.

He would gladly hand Miss Barrington over to Mr Jenkin’s care if he could, but neither the lady nor her father seemed to favour the idea.

“Such a devoted officer,” Mr Barrington said, shaking his head from side to side, “but too inclined to see a smuggler under every stone. I believe he was rather disappointed I could vouch for you, Droxford. What could you have done to provoke such enmity?”

They both knew very well.

The man tilted his daughter’s chin up. “She’s looking pale, isn’t she, Droxford? A little sunshine is needed. I have some business that requires my attention this morning. Perhaps I could call upon you to take her out for a drive.”

“I would rather ride, Papa.”

William understood what was expected of him. “If you can mount us, I am sure Miss Lacey and I would be happy to accompany Miss Barrington.”

“An excellent idea. I’ll arrange for the stables to saddle up the horses at once. I have just the one for you, Droxford. A fine stallion, that you wouldn’t be ashamed to own.”

William responded with a weak smile. The man jumped at every opportunity to force him into spending time with his daughter. William’s only surprise was that he wasn’t coming to supervise and to press his suit on Kitty. Not that he was going to complain about that.

If Mr Barrington had changed his mind about marrying her, so much the better, because William would do everything in his power to prevent her from throwing herself away on a widower who was old enough to be her father.

At his master’s instruction, a groom brought a spirited black stallion out of the stable, who looked a lot livelier than the docile beast Miss Barrington claimed as her own. If they rode at her pace, William foresaw a tedious outing.

There was no sign of Kitty. She wouldn’t leave him to face her friend alone, would she? It was what he deserved, and it wasn’t fair of him, but he wanted to spend every minute he could in her company while he was still a free man.

It occurred to him he’d spoken for her, assuming she was able and equipped to ride, but he hadn’t even checked she had a suitable dress to wear. He hoped she wouldn’t cry off.

A smile sprung to his lips as Kitty walked into the yard, dressed in an old-fashioned blue riding habit that became her remarkably well.