Page 48 of A Misguided Devotion

“What happened?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

It was—but not why her friend had chewed them. “Are you worried about something?” Kitty waited, hoping she would confide in her.

Laura’s gaze dropped to the bedcovers. “What is there to be anxious about? It is my birthday in three days’ time. Perhaps it has made me a little melancholy, turning twenty-one without Mama being here. Thinking of her must have caused me to chew my nails during the night. It is a dreadful habit I gained after she died, and I have worked so hard to stop.”

She grabbed Kitty’s arm as her gaze flicked up again to meet her eyes. “Have pity on me. Papa would be furious if he discovered the state of my fingernails.”

“I’m sure Mr Merry could paint your hands with your nails as they should be.”

“Please, Kitty. I need to rest. I must look my best for my birthday. Papa will expect it and I don’t wish to give him any reason to be displeased with me.”

Kitty heaved a sigh, even as her spirits soared with joyful anticipation at the thought of having several hours of William’s company to herself.

What was she thinking? She would only end up getting hurt. She was not supposed to be spending any more time alone with him—remember?

No, she didn’t want to. She would gobble up every scrap William threw her way. So what if she ended up with a broken heart? No one else wanted it. Being with him made her feel alive.

“Will you?” her friend pleaded.

“Yes.” It was not wise, but when did wisdom ever trump the call of the heart?

William was surprised when Kitty walked into the Long Gallery, wearing her friend’s white satin dress. A housemaid trailed behind her.

“No Miss Barrington?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

“She is unwell and suggested you might like to paint her hands—or rather mine—today.”

“As there is little else left to finish, I will do as she asks. I only hope she won’t regret it.”

Pink suffused Kitty’s cheeks. “I apologise you will have to work with my inferior fingers.”

“That’s not what I meant. Your elegant hands are one of your best features—but your fingers are longer than hers.”

Her blush increased, but her mouth was pinched. What had he done wrong? Most women enjoyed receiving compliments.

She took her seat before him, and he adjusted her position until it matched that of the portrait. “Alas, Coelebs will have to wait until tomorrow. You won’t be able to read today.”

“Are you forbidding me to talk, Mr Merry?”

“William—remember?”

She scowled at him. Did she regret the intimacy of their nighttime encounter? He had a sudden desire to bring it back.

“I have no wish for you to be silent. On the contrary, I expect a lively discussion, but reading is out of the question as I can’t let you hold a book.” He took her right hand and stroked it with his thumb as he positioned it as he wanted, then did the same with her left.

The colour in her cheeks deepened further, and he was disproportionately pleased that touching her hands had evoked such a reaction. Perhaps she was not so immune to his charm as she made out.

Five minutes passed, and she didn’t say a word. He feared he had overstepped the mark.

“I apologise, Kitty.”

“What for?”

“Teasing you.”

“Is that what it was? I thought you had forgotten who was sitting for you. Did you get carried away by my elegant fingers—they are one of my best features after all. Did you fail to recall that they did not belong to Laura? She is the lady you flirt with—not me—and I would ask you not to forget it.”