Page 11 of A Misguided Devotion

Mrs Barrington rang the bell, and a footman appeared. “Take this woman downstairs. She’s to be known as Lacey. Tell Mrs Jarvis to employ her as she sees fit.”

Kitty dipped a curtsey, and the old lady’s lip curled in contempt. “I hope you won’t live to regret today’s work.”

So did Kitty.

Chapter 4

William left Alton the day after the funeral for his grandmother’s house in Weymouth. Contrary to his expectations, his father made no other attempt to persuade him to stay. He even let him use his travelling chariot and a team from the late Earl’s stables for his journey, despite the fact that seeking Grandmama’s support went directly against his wishes.

As the carriage pulled away from Holybourne House, he glanced at the black band on his arm. It was a reminder of how much had changed in the last few days. He yanked it off and stuffed it into his satchel. But though he tried to ignore it, his life would never be the same.

The vehicle trundled along at a depressingly low speed for over an hour. William wished he had followed Keating’s advice and hired a fresh team at the Swan in Alton rather than using his uncle’s horses for the first stage. He should have trusted his groom’s opinion instead of being taken in by the animals’ showy appearance. Was he as poor a judge of horseflesh as his uncle? If his sister Eliza learned of his mistake, he would never live it down.

He had been in such a hurry to get away that he hadn’t wanted to stop. A lot of good that had done him. They wouldn’t reach Weymouth before dark if they didn’t hire a better team at Alresford.

Before they reached the first change, the carriage came to an abrupt halt. Why had they stopped? There had been no jolt, so he doubted they could have lost a wheel. Had one of his uncle’s horses gone lame?

He unhooked the leather strap, lowered the window glass, and stuck his head out to ask Keating what had happened. A man in military uniform approached the vehicle. Curious, William got out of the carriage to meet him.

“I assume you’re responsible for our halt. What’s the problem?”

“Escaped prisoners, sir.”

“It’s Lord Droxford,” replied William, as if saying it aloud would make it seem more like his name.

“Sorry, my lord,” the man said. “I didn’t realise.”

“No apology necessary.” He was still getting used to it himself. “Tell me about your runaway prisoners. Should I be alarmed they’ve broken out of jail? Are they dangerous?”

“You mistake me, my lord. Alresford is one of our parole towns. The men I’ve been charged to apprehend haven’t escaped from any cell. They’re prisoners of war, and while not dangerous in the regular way, they pose a threat to our country. Two French officers missed the muster-call this morning and can’t be found. We’ve been ordered to search every vehicle on the road. Do you mind if we look inside yours?”

“Not at all, though I can assure you there aren’t any Bonapartists hiding in there,” William said with a laugh.

The officer chortled along with him and then nodded to a couple of soldiers who gave a cursory glance through the open door to check it was empty.

“Did you honestly expect to find someone?” William asked.

“No. I daresay they are long gone. Taken away to the coast by a smuggler-agent or his men.”

“I thought smugglers only brought goods into England.”

“I wish that were the case, but they can make enough money from helping Frenchies get home that some are persuaded to go against their own country. It’s a highly organised operation. I don’t suppose you saw anyone loitering by the road?”

“I’m afraid not.”

He called up to his man. “Did you see anything, Keating?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Then I’ll let you continue on your way, my lord. Sorry to have bothered you.”

“No problem. You’re just doing your duty.”

The words stuck with William as the carriage pulled away again. Duty. They were doing their duty—but was he?

Father had asked for his help, and he had refused. Should he return to Holybourne House and offer to stay?

The thought pricked William’s conscience, but he dismissed it in a flash. It was becoming a habit with him to ignore those uncomfortable inner promptings when they conflicted with his desires. They disappeared soon enough.