Page 120 of A Misguided Devotion

He walked up to Kitty and bowed deeply, lifting her gloved hand to his mouth and letting it linger there for a moment. “Sorry I’m late, my love.”

A half-smile hovered over her lips as the tension in her chest subsided. Her belief in William was not misplaced. Despite his grandmother’s disapproval and his father’s scepticism, he had come. For her. She would no longer have to face this spiteful woman alone.

Mrs Barrington flared her nostrils at him in contempt. “Who in heaven’s name are you?”

William glanced at the butler, who hastened to announce him. “The Viscount Droxford, madam.”

His bow was restrained, though rather more polite than the one his grandmother had given Kitty.

The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “What brings you here?”

William withdrew his quizzing glass from his waistcoat pocket and put it in place, so it magnified his eye to an intimidating size. He stared at her until she blushed a fiery red. Kitty stifled a laugh at his uncharacteristic display of aristocratic arrogance.

“Your lordship,” Mrs Barrington added, with obvious reluctance, unable to withstand the scrutiny.

“I thought Miss Lacey might need my support.”

“Why would she expect any help from you, my lord?”

He peered at her through his eyeglass again. “Because she is shortly to become my wife.”

Mrs Barrington snarled. “You will regret it. Miss Lacey is not of your class. No doubt she told you she was of noble blood, but her father was born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

William did not flinch. “And your point is?”

His calm manner took the wind out of the woman’s sails. She must have thought she was destroying his illusions, but there were no secrets between him and Kitty now.

“Are you ready to leave, darling?”

Kitty grasped his hand for strength. “Not yet. Laura bid me come in person to share some distressing news with her grandmother.”

“News? What news? Hurry and give it to me so I can be rid of you.”

Kitty had intended to pass on Laura’s message more gently, but Mrs Barrington had used up all her sympathy by continuing to treat her as if she were a rabid dog. “Your son is dead.”

William’s head jerked back, his eyes wide with shock.

Mrs Barrington’s response was more vocal. “Bah! I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true. I have it in a letter from your granddaughter if you want proof. Hugh tripped and fell over the cliff whilst trying to avoid arrest and broke his neck.”

“What are you talking about, girl? Hugh is not guilty of any crime.”

A thimbleful of sympathy returned. Did she not know what her son had been up to? “He’s been helping French prisoners of war to escape for the past five years.”

Mrs Barrington laughed hysterically. “You’re out of your mind. My Hugh is a gentleman. A magistrate. He would never act like that. Get out of here and take your lies with you.”

William squeezed Kitty’s hand. “It is not your part to convince her. You have fulfilled Mrs Jenkin’s request. Let’s go home.”

Kitty liked the sound of that, but she was loath to leave without claiming what belonged to her. “Not until I have my letter from Edward. Mrs Jarvis said one arrived weeks ago, but I never received it.”

William did not release her hand, but turned his haughty gaze on Mrs Barrington. “Miss Lacey’s letter, if you please.”

“I burned it.”

Kitty refused to believe her. “You’re lying.”

“I did. I read it—and then I burned it.”