Page 114 of A Misguided Devotion

Within minutes, they arrived outside his grandmother’s house, and he faced a moment’s indecision. The rescue had come upon them so fast that they had not discussed whether Kitty would stay here or somewhere else. She had been so set against it before. Would it distress her to wake up and find herself trespassing on his grandmother’s hospitality?

It couldn’t be helped. Kitty needed to be looked after, and as her future husband, it was both his duty and his desire to ensure her wellbeing. He could trust his sisters to take care of her. William was not ashamed of the woman he was going to marry. On the contrary. He was so proud of her and how brave she’d been. He refused to apologise for his choice of bride. His grandmother would just have to get used to it.

Chapter 33

The next day, William was woken by the sound of someone moving around his room. Forgetting where he was, he jerked upright, but flopped back onto the mattress at the sight of his valet.

“Good morning, your lordship,” said Keating. “May I say how glad I am to see you in one piece?”

“I’m rather glad myself.”

“And how are you feeling? I assumed you would want to go down for breakfast, but if you need more rest…”

Breakfast? That must mean it was nearing ten o’clock. He had slept late. He threw back the bedclothes and tossed his nightcap onto his pillow. His arms and legs ached from the unaccustomed swimming, but he had no intention of staying in bed any longer. He needed to see Kitty. To find out how she was faring after their ordeal. To assure her of his continued devotion.

By the mercy of God, they’d been rescued. Now William would do everything in his power to ensure their future happiness together.

After submitting to his valet’s ministrations, he hurried downstairs to the dining room. Anthony and his sisters were already seated, but the person he most wanted to see was not there.

“Where’s Kitty?”

“Stop looking so anxious,” said Hetta. “Kitty is well and in good spirits. I spoke to her before I came down. Last night, she was very cold and wet, and very, very tired, but Mrs Rowson took care of her. She ensured she was warmed up by a long soak in the bathtub and given something to eat before being put to bed in one of my nightgowns. Mrs Rowson insisted she rest a while longer and carried up a tray.”

What a relief! Kitty was fine. But William could not help being disappointed she had not come to breakfast. He hoped she would not keep to her room for long. Propriety forbade him from visiting her there, and he dearly wanted to see her.

He sat down at the table and filled his plate. He was ravenous. Inevitably, the conversation dwelled on the events of the previous day, and William was bombarded with questions about what had happened to him and Kitty.

They were interrupted by the sound of voices in the entrance hall. “Is my darling boy here, Rowson?”

William ran a hand through his hair. Grandmama. The family member who was most likely to object to his marrying Kitty.

“They are at breakfast, Your Grace. There was something of an incident yesterday.”

“What’s that you say? An incident?”

“I am certain you would prefer to hear the story from Lord Droxford, Your Grace. Would you like to go to your room—”

“No, no. I want to see my grandson—”

William raised his eyebrows at his companions, and they all rose and followed him into the hall to greet the Duchess.

“My dear, dear boy,” said his grandmother, enfolding him in a suffocating hug. “It’s been too long. I’ve left the Duke in Plymouth with Augusta. He dotes on her baby, but I had a mind to find out if you’d made it to Weymouth. What’s this I hear about an incident? Come and tell me all.”

Without loosening her hold of her darling boy, she uttered a cursory greeting to his sisters and a rather extravagant one to Anthony, before leading William up to the drawing room with the others trailing behind.

For the first time in his life, he realised how unbalanced it was for the Duchess to lavish all her affection on him, whilst practically ignoring the girls. How self-centred he must have been not to have noticed it before.

As he told the tale of their rescue, he drew his sisters and Anthony into the conversation, allowing them to tell their own parts. He had almost finished when the door opened and Kitty came into the room.

William’s eyes glowed with appreciation. He thought she had never looked better. Attired in a gown of Hetta’s, and with her hair arranged in a gentler style, covering her pock-marked forehead, Kitty’s inner beauty shone through. She met his smile with a shy one of her own, and a gentle blush suffused her cheeks as he took her hand and drew her forward.

“Grandmama, please allow me to present Miss Lacey, the lady I’ve been telling you about. Kitty, this is my grandmother, Her Grace, the Duchess of Wessex.”

She sank into a deep curtsey.

His cheerfulness faded as Grandmama gave the barest nod in response, as if to emphasise their difference in rank. She turned up her nose as she studied Kitty from head to toe before returning her gaze to him.

“This is the girl you rescued? I didn’t expect her to be so tall. How in heaven’s name did you manage it?”