Page 102 of A Misguided Devotion

“It can’t have been planned. They saw an opportunity to get rid of me and put the blame on Lord Droxford, and they seized it. I wasn’t supposed to survive—but by the grace of God, here I am. In a bizarre way, it’s encouraging. I must be getting close to the truth for them to attack me like that.”

“The truth about what?”

“The identity of the smuggler-agent who’s been helping French officers escape the country.”

Kitty gasped. “That’s treasonous!”

Mr Jenkin nodded. “But very lucrative. Kellaway is aware that I’ve seen his face, so I’m a marked man. Trouble is, I’m not sure who else is involved. If I take him down, he might be persuaded to talk to save his neck, but he might not even know the ringleader’s identity. I have my suspicions, but no proof, and I lack confidence about who I can trust.”

“Not to mention that you’re far from well. Your broken bones will need weeks to heal,” said Laura. “You are in no fit state to go pursuing smugglers.”

Mr Jenkin heaved a sigh. “Annoyingly true, my love. I was hoping to beg for Lord Droxford’s help, but with him gone, there is nothing I can do.”

Kitty’s curiosity was piqued. “What were you going to ask of him?”

Though there was a closed door between them and the corridor, Mr Jenkin lowered his voice. “To investigate the butler’s pantry.”

“Cousin Silas’s chamber?” asked Laura. “Whatever for? I thought you were after smugglers, not madmen.”

“Darling, did it never occur to you to mention this supposedly deranged relative to me?”

“Why? It’s embarrassing. I try to forget about it. Who wants word to get out that there’s a madman staying in their home. It would be so—”

Mr Jenkin sucked in his cheeks. He must be very much in love to keep his frustration in check. He laid his hand on top of hers. “I think Cousin Silas might be a French officer who has escaped his parole.”

Laura’s eyes grew wide, but then she gave a half-hearted chuckle and shook her head. “Impossible! He’s been here since I was in the schoolroom.”

“And someone has been helping prisoners of war to escape from Portland for the past five years. It’s probable that your insane relative has been a ruse to hide their presence in your father’s house.”

“But…but…”

“Have you ever seen Cousin Silas? Close enough to identify him?”

“No. Never. Papa attempted to persuade me to visit him several times, but I just couldn’t face it.”

How clever. Because Hugh had not tried to keep his daughter away, she had not questioned the madman’s existence.

Kitty’s instincts had been right all along. “Which means you can’t be sure the man in the basement is insane, or the same person who moved in when your father first told you about Cousin Silas, or indeed, if anyone is currently living there at all.”

Laura’s mouth slackened. “No, I suppose not.”

“I’ve believed for a long while that the trail leads here,” said Mr Jenkin, “but I have no proof. That room might hold the evidence I need.”

Kitty shivered as if she’d been touched by a spectre, and the chill flooded her entire being. Cousin Silas was Hugh’s story. Did that mean he was the traitor in their midst?

At last, Laura realised the enormity of what they were saying and rushed to point the finger in a different direction. “Blake is in and out of that room. He must be at the centre of what’s going on.”

“This is what we talked about, my love. That it might be your fath—”

“Don’t say it. Smuggling—yes. But helping French prisoners of war to escape? Do you honestly suspect him of that?”

Kitty understood her reticence to believe Hugh was guilty, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. “It’s the perfect cover. Who would question a magistrate without firm evidence? He even used your relationship with your husband to beneficial effect, using his dislike of the match as a screen for his real reason for warning Mr Jenkin away.”

That seemed to sway Laura against her own father. “Do you think he is responsible for the attempt on your life, David? If so, I’ll never forgive him.”

The man ran a hand over her head, smoothing down her hair in a soothing manner. “Until we know what is hidden down there, it’s all conjecture. But our country’s safety is at risk. By the time I am well enough to investigate, it may be too late. Even now, the most recent prisoner of war may have made it across the Channel.”

Laura’s eyes grew wide. “You’re not suggesting I should look inside that room, are you?”