Page 103 of A Misguided Devotion

“No! On no account do I want you nosing around down there. I was hoping for Lord Droxford’s assistance. After our last encounter, I’m certain I can trust him. Do you know where I might find him, Miss Lacey?”

“At his grandmother’s home on the Esplanade in Weymouth.” Where she could have been right now if she hadn’t refused to leave with him.

“If I write a letter, would you go there tomorrow and deliver it into his hands? I dare not trust anyone in this house apart from the occupants of this room, and I need Sutton here, so I am not left alone when my wife is called away. It would be foolish to give my attacker another chance to kill me.”

Laura clung to her husband’s arm. “Can’t we leave now? I’m afraid…”

“I wish we could, but I’m so weak that we are safer here. If somebody attacked us en route to my mother’s, I could not protect you.” He raised his eyes to meet Kitty’s. “Will you go?”

He didn’t have to ask again. She was already going to say yes, even if she had to walk the entire way, but wasn’t there someone else Mr Jenkin could call upon? “Wouldn’t it be quicker to send word to the Governor of Portland? He only lives next door, and I could run over there in a quarter of an hour.”

“This is a matter of great delicacy, and though I am sure Mr Penn is trustworthy, I would rather rely on Lord Droxford to get my message to the right people.”

“Then I will leave at first light tomorrow.”

“Thank you. It would be safer for you not to return.”

Kitty had failed to stop William from leaving without her, but she was being given a second chance to be with him. A second chance to show her courage. She had thought she was being brave to stay for the sake of William’s family, but knew she had been afraid of rejection. Now she needed to be brave for the sake of her country and face the fears that had held her back before.

Because she needed to go to his grandmother’s house to find him and would have to rely on his sisters’ mercy to stay safe until she could make other plans. Despite the difficulties that lay ahead, Kitty’s heart sped up at the thought of seeing William again. Holding onto that would keep her going.

Kitty waited while Mr Jenkin wrote his letter. When the ink was dry, he folded it and secured it with a blob of red wax impressed with Laura’s monogram, in the absence of his own seal. After directing it to Lord Droxford, he handed her the note.

“Put it into his lordship’s hand. Don’t trust anyone else.” He extracted a few coins from a purse on his bedside table. “Take the ferry across to the mainland and hire a carriage to carry you into town if you can. God speed.”

After hugging Laura, Kitty tucked the letter into the front of her bodice. With the possibility of traitors in the house, she had no wish to be caught with it in her hand. At best, it would appear she was in secret correspondence with William—a man to whom she was not engaged. At worst, it would prove she was conspiring against the smugglers—and only God knew what they would do to her if they found out.

Chapter 30

With her departure looming, Kitty went through her meagre possessions by candlelight. She didn’t know if she would have the chance to retrieve what she left at a later date, but she needed to travel light if she was walking all the way to Weymouth. After wrapping her mother’s pearls in a spare shift, she laid them in the bottom of a bandbox. On top of that she placed a few personal items, and her grandfather’s Bible, and prayer book, leaving just enough room for her nightgown, which she would add in the morning. Everything else she would have to leave behind.

She stood at her window and gazed out at the sea, glistening in the moonlight. It was a view she would miss, and she could have watched for an hour without growing bored. But if she was going to escape the house on the morrow, she needed to undress and go to sleep for the last time within these walls.

Her eyes trailed back up the garden, and her breathing hitched as she saw a familiar sight. A plume of smoke rising in the darkness. It could not be Laura’s husband, so who was it? Not her father, as he abhorred tobacco. Blake, perhaps? Or the prisoner of war that Mr Jenkin suspected was living in the basement?

Kitty’s heart beat faster within her chest. If the Frenchman were still here, she might have a chance to get the evidence they needed. Once he was gone, there would be little hope of convicting Hugh, and if he were aiding the French, he must be stopped. Men like him were putting Edward and his fellow soldiers at risk.

Could she get into the butler’s pantry while its occupant was outside? There was a possibility she would meet someone while nosing around, but Hugh had found her wandering the corridors at night before, and there had been no repercussions. If he discovered her this time, she would claim a sudden curiosity to see Cousin Silas.

Kitty slipped out of her bedchamber into the darkness. Using her hands, she felt her way along the corridor and clung to the banister as she descended the stairs as fast as she could. Across the hall to the servants’ stair, then down again, holding onto the rail to make sure she didn’t fall if she missed her step.

At the top of the flight leading to the cellars, she stopped to listen. The stillness echoed around her. Heart in her mouth, she hurried down the last few stairs, knowing that if anyone followed her, she would have no way to escape. As she neared the bottom, she could see light streaming out of the open door on her right.

Kitty crept forward. Breath held, she peered inside. What a relief! There was no one there. A bed, table, and chair—and visible signs of occupancy. A fire burning in the grate. Discarded clothes. An ornate brass candelabra with three lit candles illuminating the space. The remains of a meal. A half-full bottle of wine and a used glass. Pen and ink—and what looked like a journal.

She listened again, but hearing nothing, she hurried to the table and flicked open the pocketbook. Its pages were filled with a strong, slanted script—most definitely not the work of a madman. Every word was in French.

Mr Jenkin was right. Hugh must have been housing escaped prisoners of war in his basement and helping them to return to France. And it looked as if the latest enemy officer was still here. Her pulse raced. She needed to get out. Fast. This was not dabbling in contraband. This was treason.

Dare she take the notebook with her? It would be hard to explain if she was found, but it might be the evidence Mr Jenkin sought. Stowing the book in her bodice, alongside the letter to William, she hurried out the room. But before she could mount the stairs, she heard footsteps. Someone was coming.

Should she claim her curiosity got the better of her, or should she hide? But where? Away from the light streaming out of the butler’s pantry.

Kitty edged her way down the flagstone corridor, hoping the darkness would shield her until she could make her escape. She’d never been in the cellars before. Was there a drop? More steps?

Something scurried past her ankles, and she swallowed a squeal as she stepped backward and lost her footing. With a thud, Kitty landed on the cold floor just as candlelight appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

In the shadows, she could see three men. Hugh and Blake entered the butler’s pantry.