there was plain speaking of the sort she and Caro employed and then there was rudeness.
Barton’s way was decidedly the latter.
“No, Papa! I didn’t mean anything by it. Truly, I didn’t.” Miss Barton’s embarrassment at her father’s words was evident in her expression.
“I’m sure what Miss Barton means is that she’s heard the stories of Lord Valentine’s exploits as a journalist,” she interjected, unable to keep from coming to the girl’s defense.
Kate turned to Tabitha and gave her a reassuring glance before continuing. “I’m afraid Lord Valentine spends a great deal of time in rather unsavory company for the sake of his work with The Gazette. But he comes to Thornfield Hall as often as he can, I believe.”
Not quite mollified by Kate’s attempt to smooth the waters, Barton took his daughter’s arm in his and continued to scold, though with less vehemence than before.
Seeing her chance, Kate bent down to tie her bootlace and allowed some distance to grow between herself, the pair, and in front of them, the rest of the party.
Alone at last.
She really had wanted to take the opportunity this week afforded to think about both her goals for the column, and how best to help Mr. Clark. But the guests her host had assembled hadn’t been chosen with her preferences in mind.
Lord Valentine Thorn was like a mischievous little boy; he delighted in bringing disparate people together under one roof in order to generate as much drama and interesting conversation as possible. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it most assuredly did not.
The current house party included among the guests ex-prize-fighter-turned-farmer “Gentleman” Jim Hyde; the Earl and Countess Eggleston, whose marriage had been a sensation in society since they’d met while she was betrothed to his brother; and lastly, Mr. Reeve Thompson, who seemed like a gentleman, but who Kate was coming to believe was a handsome n’er-do-well. And that didn’t count Mr. and Miss Barton.
She really must think better of it the next time Val attempted to convince her this house party would be different from the last. At least he’d written his father, the Duke of Thornfield, on her behalf. As much as she’d like to resolve Clark’s incarceration on her own, she knew that a request from a member of the nobility, and one as powerful as Thornfield at that, would do more good than all her efforts, no matter how sincere.
Still, she had made a list and written letters to other acquaintances and family members she thought might have some influence with the Home Office. And though she hadn’t broached the subject with the other guests, she had spoken with Valentine, whose opinion she trusted, and made note of his suggestions. She might not have freed Mr. Clark just yet, but she had made headway in her attempt to do so.
Spying a trail that forked away from the one they’d been following around the lake, she used her walking stick to climb the uphill path into the cool shadows of the wood.
It really was lovely countryside. She’d been to the Lakes only once before, when she was a child, and that had been as a guest of a school friend, but she’d loved it. And though she hadn’t visited the neighboring village thus far since her arrival, she would do so soon enough. Without the other guests, if she could help it.
She could only imagine the sort of comments Lady Eggleston and Mr. Barton would inject into her conversations with the villagers about their daily lives and the women’s concerns about safety when visiting larger cities. The very idea sent a shudder through her.
What a strange few years it had been, she thought as she trudged up the path. Two years ago, her husband, George, had been alive and making her life unbearable. Now, she’d taken his newspaper—which he’d nearly let collapse through mismanagement—and turned it into one of the most profitable in the nation. Fortunately, it hadn’t been entailed with the rest of his estate, and she’d managed to convince his heir, a distant cousin, to sell it to her at a shockingly low sum since he didn’t wish to be seen dabbling in trade.
She was pleased with the success she’d made of The Gazette as a whole, but she’d had even higher hopes for the column with Caro. A Lady’s Guide to Mischief and Mayhem had the potential to become a means of serving the female half of the city’s population in a way the other papers did not.
Hopefully, her