Page 92 of A Misguided Devotion

William’s face lit up. “I believe you have something there. Please fetch the marriage register, Mr Barnes.”

The curate retrieved another substantial book and, pushing aside the baptisms and burials record, he laid the second volume in front of them.

“What was your grandfather called?” he asked.

“Bruce—Walter Bruce.”

“Excellent. It will be far easier to find if we know what name we’re looking for,” Mr Barnes said with a twinkle in his eye. “Let’s start in 1770 and work backward, as you suggested for the baptismal records.”

He found the relevant year, and Kitty ran her finger over each entry. No one named Bruce was mentioned. At the shake of her head, the curate turned back to the previous page, and she read through the details of another eight marriages with no success.

After searching through seven years’ worth of records without finding what she was looking for, she was losing hope. Was the only way for her to discover the truth about her father’s birth to return to Mrs Barrington’s house and ask her the name of the man her grandmother claimed to have married?

Kitty let out an involuntary shudder. It wasn’t worth it. She refused to put herself through that again. She would have to live with not knowing.

“I’m sorry to have occupied your time with such a fruitless search, Mr Barnes. The marriage must have taken place elsewhere.”

“Giving up so easily? Come on,” William said, beseeching her with a disarming pout. “Let’s try a few more years.”

Kitty wondered if she would ever be able to say no to that look. “If you insist, but we stop at 1760. We can’t tarry here much longer.”

He nodded, and the curate flipped over the page again.

And there it was. Staring up at them. She read the words aloud: “Walter Bruce, gentleman and bachelor, of this parish, and Catherine Hampton, widow, of this parish, were married in this church by licence this tenth day of October in the year one thousand, seven hundred and sixty-two.”

“See. It was worth carrying on, wasn’t it?” said William. “Now, we just need to find Edward Hampton’s baptism.”

They switched over the volumes and turned to the baptismal records for 1762. The dates were listed on the left-hand side, and Kitty located the month of October, near the bottom of the page, where there was an entry for Edward Hampton, dated just nine days before her grandfather’s wedding.

“Oct 1: Edward son of the late Lord Edward Hampton and of Catherine, his widow.”

Lord Edward Hampton? Her father really was the son of a nobleman. But could her grandmother have been married to a lord? It seemed most unlikely. Which left only one alternative. There had been no wedding.

She glanced up at William and caught him raking his fingers through his hair. His face had turned pale. He must have reached the same conclusion. Mrs Barrington had been telling the truth.

“Thank you for your help, Mr Barnes. It has confirmed what I feared—that the marriage was a ruse and my father was illegitimate.”

“Don’t be so hasty to think the worst,” the curate said. “There might yet be evidence of their union. Let’s check the register.”

They examined the records for the five years before her father’s birth. Not a single mention of Hampton. “As I suspected. No marriage.”

“It doesn’t mean it didn’t happen,” said Mr Barnes. “The ceremony could have taken place earlier or elsewhere.”

“Or not at all. If they’d been married, surely his family would have cared for my grandmother after his death and brought up my father—but they did not. She wed Mr Bruce to hide her shame and provide for her baby.”

The curate tipped his head to one side. “But if that were the case, why not marry him before your father was born?”

“I’ve already thought about that. It can’t have been because he wanted my grandmother, but not her child, because he brought my papa up and gave him his name. I was known as Kitty Bruce until I came to Weymouth. I believe it was because she wished to appear more respectable than she was.”

“There is another possibility.”

Her ears perked up. “Yes?”

“I remember my father saying the old Duke was nothing like the current one. Very high in the instep. If he disapproved of his son’s marriage, he might have removed your papa from his mother’s care to be brought up in the ducal household. Marrying Mr Bruce may have been the only way for your grandmother to keep her baby.”

Kitty’s heart beat faster. “Do you believe that’s possible? I know little of the ways of the aristocracy, except that they are far above the likes of me.”

The curate raised his eyebrows at William, who ducked his head in response. Kitty narrowed her gaze. What was that about?