Page 38

For the briefest of moments, he cast his eyes directly upon Verity, then looked away as if to confirm that he had no right to gaze upon her.

Verity almost missed this minutest of signs because Miss Kinsey had reacted quite differently a few seconds before.

At the mention of Mr. Cole, Miss Kinsey had stiffened, an action so opposite to her usual self that it drew Verity’s attention at once.

Why should Miss Kinsey mind the idea of Mr. Cole as a suitor for Verity?

Did she want him for herself? No, it couldn’t be.

Mr. Trenton had mentioned she had her eye on a friend of the viscount’s, a Mr. Bradford, if Verity remembered correctly.

Why, then, did the mention of Mr. Cole create such a strong response?

Did it have anything to do with the seemingly ill blood between Mr. Cole and Lord and Lady Howell?

Verity was determined to find out once and for all.

The challenge was to create an opportunity for such a discussion to occur.

“I am flattered that you both think me worthy of such broad attention,” she said.

“However, there has been no such interest expressed by any gentleman since the ball. As for Mr. Cole, we are merely friends. Now, if you will permit, I shall attend to my painting. Dr. Westbridge, you will tell me if you find the tansy beetle’s offspring? ”

“Indeed, I shall,” he replied, returning to his search among the reeds.

Verity made her way back up the gentle slope to retrieve her sketchbook and paints. As hoped, Miss Kinsey joined her, no doubt because a lady’s company promised better conversation.

Verity had placed a sketch upon the easel and was readying her paints and brushes and a glass of water, when Miss Kinsey launched into her next unrestrained monologue, which, for once, was exactly what Verity wanted.

“I say, Miss Lockhart, I am glad you do not consider Mr. Cole among your potential suitors. Dr. Westbridge is so much more aligned to your needs. Certainly, Mr. Cole is very handsome and has charm enough to sway many a young woman’s heart.

I confess I may even have advised you to encourage his attentions if it weren’t for a startling exchange with my friend the viscountess just yesterday. ”

Verity readied herself for the revelation of the secret as Miss Kinsey talked on with barely a pause.

“I informed Ellena that you would be coming to visit at my invitation, and, to my surprise, she appeared none too pleased. As you may imagine, this made as little sense to me as why the ton use so much cutlery when they have their meals.”

Miss Kinsey rolled her eyes, took a quick breath and continued.

“I hope you do not mind me saying so, but, when pressed, Ellena wondered at your connection to Mr. Cole and whether you were the right sort for me to keep company with. Now, I see your dismay, and I am sorry to be the cause of it. I was equally stunned and could find no reason why either of you should not make excellent friends, and I told her so.”

Annoyance, impatience, confusion, and indignation vied for supremacy within Verity as Miss Kinsey raced along with her narration.

“Well, Miss Lockhart, you may be shocked to hear her reason, as I was. Indeed, it pained her to speak of it. I must therefore trust that you value the truth over your attachment to Mr. Cole, however deep it runs.”

She stopped so abruptly that Verity was startled by the silence.

Now that Miss Kinsey was willing to reveal all, Verity was no longer certain she wanted to hear it.

This was not the simple spat she had predicted, but something far more sinister-sounding.

And the blame seemed to rest squarely on Mr. Cole.

“You will not despise the messenger, will you, Miss Lockhart?” Miss Kinsey clasped her hands and hugged them to herself.

“I should be devastated to lose your friendship. There are so few folk I like whom I may engage with. I miss the ease of our village, where everyone knows each other and the most important rule is to be kind.”

Poor Miss Kinsey! Verity had not considered how lonely it must be for a groundskeeper’s daughter to mix with the elite. If the Sangfords and Penroses were any indication, Miss Kinsey would have struggled to find a friend beyond the safety of Munro House.

“I assure you,” she told the worried woman, “that I shall receive the news with fortitude. I shall not judge you for sharing what burdens you.”

“Oh, Miss Lockhart, I had hoped it would be so! Let me tell you quickly, then, so that the injury might be brief, and we can paint and laugh again.”

Verity sat down, Miss Kinsey joining her in the adjacent chair. She leaned forward and said, “I shall speak softly, for people forget the servants are there. I will not have this talked about beyond our confidence.”

Verity cast a quick glance at the footman, who stood unmoving—likely bored—but near enough to hear their speech. “Excuse me,” she said to him, “but could you see what has become of Miss Kinsey’s shawl? She asked for it some time ago and it has not been brought to her.”

The footman nodded and strode off briskly, no doubt happy to stretch his legs and possibly even catch a quick flirtation with a scullery maid as he entered through the kitchen.

Miss Kinsey made an “o” with her mouth and clapped her hands together. “Oh, you are clever! I wish I had thought of that.” When Verity did not share in her delight, she grew serious at once, her smile slipping from her face. “To the heart of the matter, then…”

She looked over her shoulder to see if Dr. Westbridge was still occupied, then returned her attention to Verity. “I shall be as brief as possible.”

Verity thought this a very fine idea, though she was not convinced brevity was Miss Kinsey’s strong suit.

“When Ellena came to Munro last year for her wedding, she stayed with her cousin Mr. James Trenton.” She rolled her eyes to the heavens.

“Ugh! Horrid man! But we are not here to discuss his petty ways. His wife is quite the opposite. How they found each other and made such a fine match, I will never know. Anyway, Mrs. Trenton, as you know, is Mr. Cole’s sister, and he happened to surprise her with a visit at the time Ellena stayed with them. So, they were houseguests together.

“You will agree, Mr. Cole is a terrible flirt. I would not have minded that if I did not know what I do now. And, certainly, Ellena did not mind, either. She thought it all rather harmless fun. She didn’t have experience of men, you know.

Her father kept her from them like a princess in a tower, only there was no tower, and she was not a princess, but you understand my meaning, I hope.

“Well, it turned out Mr. Cole was not so harmless after all. He got it into his head that Lord Howell was not a good match for her… although, in fairness, there had been some unpleasantness… but I digress.

“In fact, he thought himself a better choice and took certain steps to force an end to the engagement so that he might marry my friend instead.”

Miss Kinsey’s meandering speech came to the point so suddenly, the truth thrown out so brutally, that Verity gasped aloud.

“I see I have shocked you. Truly, I am grateful to see it, for it means you did not know. I told Ellena as much. I said that you did not seem the sort to befriend a man whom you believed lacked morals. It is a relief to see I was right.”

“There must be some sort of misunderstanding,” Verity protested. “You say there was unpleasantness. Mr. Cole must have believed he was acting in Lady Howell’s interests.”

Miss Kinsey nodded. “That is how he defended his actions. But they were done in a scheming, underhanded way. He knew his guilt, for when Lord Howell warned of making his behavior public, Mr. Cole left Munro at once, under the pretense of marrying someone in his village. I now understand that was meant to be you. And I am beyond grateful that you did not accept his offer.”

Verity felt numb. She did not share in Miss Kinsey’s relief.

Her world had just slid violently into an abyss.

The man she loved, the man she thought she knew, was a conniving, manipulative fiend.

He had never cared for her. She had been a distraction from the loss of another he had wanted so fiercely that he had acted in a manner that had been shameful and secretive.

Her imagination began to conjure up what form his deviousness may have taken, but she shut these thoughts down at once, for they only deepened the pain of his betrayal.

She didn’t know which cut the deepest, the fact that Mr. Cole’s courtship of her had been a mockery, or the knowledge that he had loved another with such distorted passion that he would plot to have that woman for himself.

Surely, said a small voice desperate to believe in him, he must have thought he was saving Lady Howell—or Miss Trenton as she had been then—a motive so strong that would drive him to commit such a gross offense.

But Verity had seen the viscount and viscountess together.

They were happy, content. Whatever had troubled their relationship had not lasted. Mr. Cole had been profoundly mistaken.

And then, in obedience to his parents’ wishes, he had made a show of his attentions to Verity. Even bringing a gift to convince everyone he cared. No wonder he had fled at the first obstacle. His heart had never been open to her.

Verity felt the weight of a sob trying to escape her throat.

“Oh, Miss Lockhart, you look quite ill! Let me get you some water.” Miss Kinsey—her brow wreathed with lines, her skin paling as she rushed to pour Verity a glass—was at a loss for words. “Oh, dear,” was all she managed to say. And again, “Oh, dear.”

Verity sipped the water, using the motion to swallow down her tears.