SARAH MALLORY was born in the West Country and now lives on the beautiful Yorkshire moors. She has been writing for more than three decades—mainly historical romances set in the Georgian and Regency period. She has won several awards for her writing, most recently the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s RoNA Rose Award in 2012 (The Dangerous Lord Darrington) and 2013 (Beneath the Major’s Scars).

A Regency Baron’s Bride

To Catch a Husband…

The Wicked Baron

Sarah Mallory

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover

About the Author

Title Page

To Catch a Husband…

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

The Wicked Baron

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Endpage

Copyright

To Catch a Husband…

Sarah Mallory

Chapter One

‘I am off to London, to seek my fortune!’

Kitty Wythenshawe glanced up hopefully at the young farmhand driving the gig. He did not look overly impressed with her announcement, but perhaps that was because he had known her for years and had always thought of her as the seamstress’s daughter—which, of course, she was—but now she was off to stay with her godmother. And her godmother was A Lady! Lady Leaconham, to be exact.

‘Well, Joshua?’ she demanded. ‘Are you not pleased for me?’

The lad moved the straw he was chewing from one side of his mouth to the other.

‘Nowt to do wi’ me.’

Kitty sighed but did not allow her companion’s indifference to damp her spirits. The overnight rain had given way to a beautiful spring morning, the sun had driven off the early mist from the moors and she could see the lapwings circling lazily over a distant field. It was as if Nature itself was smiling upon her adventure. Kitty glanced down at her olive-green walking dress with the yellow leaf motif embroidered down the front and around the hem. Mama and Aunt Jane had worked so hard for this occasion. She had never before had so many new clothes at one time.

‘Dunno what tha wants wi’ goin’ t’ Lunnon,’ remarked Joshua, suddenly becoming loquacious.

‘I have to find a husband,’ said Kitty, clasping her hands together in a sudden moment of anxiety. If only she could marry well then she could provide for Aunt Jane and Mama. They were both widows, eking out their meagre savings with a little dressmaking. Their home was a little cramped, to be sure, but Kitty had grown used to that. However, she was painfully aware that Mama and Aunt Jane were growing older and the cold, damp cottage was not so comfortable in winter, when the water would seep up through the earth floor and Mama’s joints would become stiff and painful, and Aunt Jane’s cough always became much worse. They were the daughters of a gentleman and this was not what they had been born to. Kitty knew it was her duty to improve their fortunes and if she had to sacrifice herself at the Matrimonial Altar then she would do it—not that it seemed to Kitty much of a sacrifice to marry a rich man: it was all very well to read novels where the heroine gave up everything to follow her heart, but Mama had married for love and Kitty did not think that she was particularly happy, living in such straitened circumstances. Indeed, had she and Aunt Jane not scrimped and saved every spare penny to give Kitty this one chance to go to London expressly for the purpose of achieving a good marriage?

Letitia Leaconham had been a close childhood friend of Mama’s and had gone on to make a brilliant marriage, while Mama had defied her family and married Walter Wythenshawe for love. He had been in possession of a moderate income, but he had not prospered, and as Mama was wont to point out at times of stress, strict principles and enlightened views were all very well but they do not pay the bills. Upon Papa’s death there had been any number of accounts to be settled and so it had come to pass that Kitty and her mama had moved into the tiny cottage in Fallridge with Aunt Jane, the widow of an impecunious curate. Since then Mama had spent every penny she could spare upon Kitty’s education in the belief that if only she could be launched into Society she would make a good marriage. After all, her birth was impeccable, even if she had no dowry. As Aunt Jane said, Kitty was their Last Hope; if she could only find a rich husband then they could all be comfortable.

‘I’d marry thee.’

This utterance put an end to Kitty’s ponderings.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I said I’d marry thee,’ repeated Joshua. ‘If tha needs a man.’

‘Oh, Joshua, that is very kind of you!’ Kitty put a hand on his rough sleeve. ‘Indeed it is very generous, but you see, if I am to support Mama and Aunt Jane, that they may live out their years comfortably and without more suffering, I need to marry someone … someone … ‘

‘A lord,’ said Joshua, spitting out his straw. ‘Some ‘un richer nor me. Aye, well, me mam’s set her heart on my marrying Lizzie Greenwood, since she will inherit the farm from her faither, so I suppose it wouldn’t do fer me to be marryin’ a lass with nowt to ‘er name.’

For a few moments Kitty’s sunny mood clouded: it was very lowering to think even Joshua considered her a poor prospect for marriage. Her spirits soon recovered, however. She was a gentlewoman by birth, and as Papa had always told her, it was a person’s actions that were important. So Kitty pulled herself up and said graciously, ‘No, but thank you for the offer. And it is very good of you to drive me to Halifax, and so kind of your father to let us use the gig. I am to meet with Mr and Mrs Midgley at the Crown. You may not know them; Mr Midgley is a cloth merchant, which is how Mama became acquainted with the family, for she often buys cloth from him. They are taking their samples to London, you see, and have agreed to take me with them, which was very fortunate, because otherwise Mama would have been obliged to send me on the stage and hire a maid to go with me. So you see everything has worked out very well.’

She ended on a cheerful note with a sunny smile for Joshua but he was not attending. He was staring ahead of him and frowning.

‘Well?’ said Kitty. ‘What is it?’

Joshua scratched his head.

‘I ain’t right sure which road we wants.’

Kitty followed his stare. They were dropping down from the hills and she could see the junction in the distance, a large, open space where several highways converged.

‘The road to Halifax will be the main route,’ suggested Kitty, but even as she said it she realised that this did not help. All the roads leading away from them were in good order and wide enough for two carts to pass.

‘Da said to keep goin’ downhill ‘til we get to Halifax.’

‘That is all very well,’ retorted Kitty, beginning to lose patience, ‘but there are at least three of those roads leading downhill. Think, Joshua. Can you not remember which one you take?’

‘Ah, well, I’ve never bin this road afore,’ he confessed. ‘Uncle Jed allus makes this run.’

Kitty closed her lips to prevent herself making a hasty exclamation. It would help no one and might upset her companion, who, after all, was going to considerable trouble for her. As they descended to the crossroads she spotted a large black horse standing at the side of the lane. At first she thought the animal unattended, but as they approached a man stepped into view. His serviceable buckskins and brown riding jacket were liberally spattered with mud and he was hatless, his black hair unconfined and hanging wild and disordered to his shoulders. He did not look around as they approached, but was concentrating upon securing the straps of his saddle.

‘That fellow might know which is the correct road,’ said Kitty. ‘You should ask him.’

Joshua looked at the bedraggled stranger and pulled a face. ‘Nay. No need for that.’

‘To be sure he looks very rough, but he might know the way.’

‘Tha can’t be certain o’ that.’

‘Well, it would do no harm to ask,’ said Kitty, trying to hide her impatience.

Joshua ignored her. When she realised that he had no intention of asking for directions she decided she would have to act. As they drew abreast of the man she leaned over the side of the gig and called out to him.

‘I say, my man—yes, you: which one of these roads leads to Halifax?’

She was not used to accosting strangers, and a mixture of nerves and irritation at her companion’s stubbornness made her tone much sharper than usual. The man turned slowly and looked up at her from beneath heavy dark brows. Kitty found herself facing the blackest, fiercest stare she had ever encountered.

It was as much as Kitty could do not to recoil from the stranger’s angry glare. With some alarm she realised that Joshua no longer intended to drive past. He brought the gig to a halt and the man walked over to stand before them, looking very much as if he would drag her from the gig at any moment. Swallowing hard, she sat up straight, determined not to show fear. She said haughtily, ‘Did you understand me, fellow?’

Those piercing black eyes held hers for a moment, then they swept over her, from the crown of her bergère bonnet down to the nankeen half-boots peeping out from under the hem of her walking dress. Kitty had the unsettling feeling that he could see right through her clothing to the flesh beneath. She felt thoroughly exposed and her cheeks flamed. She snapped her head up and stared straight ahead.

‘Drive on, Joshua.’

The stranger’s long arm shot out and one big hand caught the pony’s bridle.

‘Nay,’ he said in a slow, deep drawl. ‘First tha needs to know t’road.’

Kitty shot a furious look at him.

‘Then perhaps you would be good enough to tell us!’

‘I’ll tell thee nowt afore I hears a civil word from yer ladyship.’

Joshua shifted uncomfortably beside her. Kitty wondered that he did not stand up to the stranger, but a moment’s consideration told her that her companion, a stocky youth of sixteen, was no match for the tall, broad-shouldered stranger some ten years his senior. The man stood at their pony’s head, one hand gripping the leather cheek-piece while the other stroked the animal’s neck with slow, reassuring movements. The pony, traitor that he was, turned his head and rubbed against the stranger’s arm.

Kitty realised that, however angry the man might be with her, he was in control of himself and the situation. They could not move on until he allowed it.

She ran her tongue over her dry lips.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she said politely. ‘Pray be good enough to direct us to the Halifax road.’

Silence.

It dragged on for a full minute. Kitty gave the stranger a challenging look but he did not move, merely stared back at her with his unfathomable black gaze. He looked as hard and immobile as the rocky granite outcrops that littered the moors.

Joshua rubbed his nose. A bullock cart lumbered up to the junction and turned along one of the lanes but still the stranger held Kitty’s eyes. Then, just when she was wondering if Joshua would dare to use the shotgun that she knew lay beneath the seat, the man stepped back.

‘That’s thy road.’ He pointed to the lane where the bullock cart was disappearing around a bend. ‘Just follow yon wagon t’bottom of t’hill.’

With a slight nod of acknowledgement Joshua flicked the reins and they began to move.

‘Thank you.’

Kitty felt obliged to utter the words as they drove away, but she kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead. From the tail of her eye she saw the man tug his forelock but there was nothing subservient about the gesture and she could not shake the horrible conviction that he was enjoying her discomfiture.

***

Daniel Blackwood watched the gig pull away, a deep crease in his brows. He was in the worst possible humour but he should not have taken it out on that young couple. He had been travelling since yesterday afternoon, his horse was lame and he had been obliged to spend the night on the moors. He was in a devil’s own temper and it had not been improved by being addressed by an arrogant chit as if he was a lackey!

He had seen the gig approaching, but knowing the young couple could do nothing to help him he had ignored it, only to be summoned like a servant to give directions. True, the girl was young and pretty, but he was in no mood to appreciate the heart-shaped face, the large green eyes fringed with dark lashes or the dusky curls that escaped from beneath her wide-brimmed straw bonnet. He watched the gig rolling away down the hill, the little figure in her green robe and yellow bonnet sitting rigidly upright beside the boy who was driving. Probably some farmer’s daughter trying to impress her swain by acting the great lady. Well, she had chosen the wrong man to try out her airs and graces!

With an angry snort he bent to pick up his greatcoat and hat from the grass verge and gathered up the reins of his horse.

‘Come up, Marnie. I’ll walk you to the inn and Fletcher can keep you there until you’re fit to come home.’

Kitty arrived at the Crown and was informed by the landlord that she was expected: Mr and Mrs Midgley were waiting for her in the coffee room. Kitty nodded and he directed one of his servants to carry her trunk across to the travelling carriage standing in the middle of the yard. Before stepping into the inn she turned to say goodbye to Joshua, thanking him for his trouble and pressing into his hand a sixpence which he was somewhat embarrassed to take, but she insisted. She watched him drive away in the gig, a tiny pang of homesickness mingling with the excited anticipation she felt for the journey ahead of her.

Mr and Mrs Midgley greeted her with unfeigned delight, declaring that she had not kept them waiting at all, and begging her to sit down and join them for breakfast before they set off.

‘For if I am not mistaken,’ said Mr Midgley, twinkling at her, ‘you were up before dawn, miss, and too excited to take a bite to eat.’

‘Very true,’ laughed Kitty, removing her bonnet and shaking out her dark curls. ‘If you are sure we have time?’

‘All the time in the world, my dear,’ replied Mr Midgley. ‘We travel to London in easy stages. I don’t mean to press the horses, for we shan’t be changing them again for some while, unlike the mailcoach.’

‘Nor will we be careering along at such a breakneck speed,’ added Mrs Midgley, chuckling. ‘So come along, my dear, sit by me and you can tell me how your dear mother does.’

Kitty readily complied. She was not well acquainted with her hosts but their warmth and kindness soon broke down any reserve and she found herself chattering away quite naturally while they breakfasted upon freshly baked bread rolls and scalding coffee.

‘So you arrived in style, Miss Wythenshawe,’ remarked Mrs Midgley, when they had finished their meal and Mr Midgley went off to check if their carriage was ready. ‘You say the farmer’s boy drove you in his gig? I have no doubt your mama was very pleased you were not obliged to travel here with the poultry for market!’

‘If I had done so then my driver might have known the way,’ replied Kitty with a sigh.

She decided not to recount the incident at the crossroads. The man had been odiously rude and not a little frightening, but Kitty was aware that her own conduct was not what it ought to have been. If she had not spoken in such a proud, disdainful way perhaps the whole unpleasant incident might not have occurred. She deeply regretted her own conduct but it was too late to apologise. She would learn from it and do her best to make sure she did not act in such an ill-mannered fashion again.

She gave Mrs Midgley a bright smile. ‘But I am here now, and very much looking forward to our journey.’

‘Bless you, my dear, then we shall be off directly,’ declared Mr Midgley, coming in at that moment. ‘If you would care to don your bonnets and cloaks, ladies, the berline is ready and we can be on our way! Oh, and we have a passenger for the first part of the journey: I’ll just go and hurry him along.’

With that he was gone, leaving his wife to tut and direct a rueful glance at Kitty as they gathered up their belongings and headed out to the yard.

While they had been breaking their fast the clouds had gathered and now it was raining steadily, a fine, soaking drizzle. The ladies hurried across to the waiting carriage and made themselves comfortable on the forward-facing seat while they waited for Mr Midgley. He soon appeared at the door, standing back and addressing someone beyond her view.

‘Get in, my boy, get in. You will find Mrs Midgley inside, and our young guest Miss Wythenshawe. This is Mr Blackwood, my love,’ he called in through the open door. ‘His mare is lame, so I said we would take him up as far as Hestonroyd.’

A large figure in a greatcoat and wide-brimmed hat filled the doorway, his shadow momentarily darkening the interior of the carriage, but as he sat down opposite her, Kitty bit back a gasp of dismay. It was the boorish stranger from the crossroads! He had washed his face and hands and tied back his hair, but there was no mistaking that strong jaw shadowed with its dark stubble or the coal-black eyes that now rested upon her with a look of cool disdain. Embarrassed, Kitty looked down and nervously twitched her skirts out of the way. He had such long legs that she was obliged to keep her feet tucked in to avoid dirtying her hem on his muddy boots. She knew her walking dress would not remain clean for very long, but it was new and she was determined to take care of it. She fully appreciated all the hard work Mama and Aunt Jane had put in, making all the gowns and clothes for her stay in London. She had helped, of course, but Mama had worked long into each evening, sewing by lamplight until her eyes were red and sore with strain.

‘There, now, we are off at last!’ declared Mr Midgley as he climbed into the carriage and they began to move. ‘What a merry party we shall be.’ He turned to his wife. ‘Blackwood here lives at the Holme and—’

Daniel was quick to interrupt him, saying in a very broad accent, ‘Nay, sir, I don’t think the ladies is fetched to know about me.’ He glanced at the young woman sitting opposite and added, ‘They’d be more interested in frills and furbelows.’

Mrs Midgley chuckled.

‘You are far too modest, Mr Blackwood. I take it you are Samuel Blackwood’s son?’

‘Aye, ma’am.’ Daniel kept his response brief: if they knew his father they might well wonder why his son spoke in such an uneducated manner!

‘We are well acquainted with your parents,’ Mrs Midgley went on. ‘If we had time I would suggest we call upon them when we drop you off, but Mr Midgley is determined to reach Market Harborough tonight, so we must not tarry. Do, pray, remember me to your mama.’

Dan nodded silently in response and earned a disapproving frown from Miss Wythenshawe. He returned her look with a cool one of his own and had the satisfaction of seeing her blush. As well she might, given her own behaviour towards him that morning.

He wondered if he should have hired a horse after all, but by the time he had walked Marnie to the inn the rain had set in and Mr Midgley had been most insistent. Daniel had seen the cheerful-looking gentleman with his full wig and bushy side-whiskers sheltering under the arch leading to the stableyard and he had nodded as he passed him. The man touched his hat.

‘By Gad, sir, you look as if you have been through the wars!’

Daniel stopped. He looked down at his muddy clothes and gave a wry grin.

‘My horse took a tumble yesterday evening and I landed in the dirt. I was unhurt but my mount was lamed, so I was obliged to spend the night on the moors.’

‘And in the rain, too.’ The gentleman shook his head.

Daniel shrugged.

‘A little damp won’t hurt me. I am even now going to find our host and hire a horse to take me back to Hestonroyd.’

The man looked up, his little bright eyes gleaming.

‘Oh? Not the Holme, by any chance? Samuel Blackwood’s place?’

‘Why, yes, sir. I am his son.’

The gentleman gave a hearty laugh.

‘Well met then, Mr Blackwood! My name is Midgley. I have known your father for many a year—a good man, and an honest businessman, too!’

‘Indeed.’ Daniel nodded. ‘I will give him your regards, sir. Now, if you will excuse me, I must see if Fletcher can find me a horse …’

‘No need, sir, no need,’ cried Mr Midgley. ‘I am going your way—that is my berline over there. We shall be setting off shortly—we have many miles to cover today!—but I should be delighted to take you up.’

‘Indeed, sir, I would not wish to put you out.’

‘Not at all, my boy, not at all. You do not want to be riding in this weather. And besides, we shall be driving through Hestonroyd and can drop you at the very gates of the Holme. Now, there is plenty of room in my carriage for another body, so let me hear no more arguments!’

Daniel hesitated, but only for a moment. His greatcoat was still wet and the idea of getting another soaking was not a tempting prospect, so he accepted Mr Midgley’s offer. Now, looking across at Miss Wythenshawe’s haughty profile, he thought that if he had known she was one of the party, he would have preferred to walk back to Hestonroyd in the rain rather than sit in a closed carriage with such a disagreeable wench.

Kitty stared resolutely out of the window. Heavens, she had thought Joshua taciturn, but this man had no conversation at all, except to be uncivil. Her conscience suggested that this might be her own fault. The thought made her uncomfortable, but she could not bring herself to utter an apology before Mr and Mrs Midgley: if she did that she would also be obliged to give them an explanation. She decided to put the matter from her mind and concentrate on the passing countryside.

The view could not fail to excite her. She had never been so far abroad before and as they travelled on, the harsh grandeur of the moors was left behind for a softer, greener landscape. Orderly fields stretched away on either side towards rolling, wooded hillsides. She was only a few hours from home and already everything looked strange: how much more diverting would it be in London? Mr Midgley said it would take two full days’ travelling to reach the capital. A little tremor ran through her: how would she go on? She had never even been to school!

There had never been any money to send her to one of the select academies that taught young ladies how to behave. Not that her education had been lacking. Mama and Aunt Jane had seen to that. When Papa had died they had been obliged to release her governess but Mama and Aunt Jane had continued her lessons, which she had augmented by extensive reading of the books kept from her father’s well-stocked library. Most had been sold to pay his debts but those suitable for a young lady’s education had been retained—as well as less improving works. Mama might not wholly approve of novels, but she and Aunt Jane enjoyed listening to Kitty reading from the works of Mr Fielding or Mr Richardson while they sewed. They had managed to keep the little pianoforte for her to practise upon but there had been no money for a dancing master, so Kitty had joined the Squire’s daughters for dancing lessons, repaying this kindness by helping their harassed governess with their schooling. Mama had been at great pains to teach her to be a lady. There had been extensive descriptions of life in a big house, lessons on how to address the various ranks of nobility and how to prepare tea, but Kitty suspected it would be very different practising all she had learned in London rather than in the tiny cottage in Fallridge.

She clasped her hands together. Mama had never taught her how to deal with rough, wild-looking gentlemen like the one now sitting opposite her. The only men she had met before had either been the young boys of the village or fatherly types like the Squire or Mr Midgley. In all her nineteen years she had never met anyone who had made her feel so ill at ease. She stole a glance across the carriage at Daniel Blackwood. He had removed his hat and was leaning back against the leather squabs, his eyes closed, his head moving gently with the swaying motion of the carriage. If, as Mr Midgley said, he had been travelling all night that would explain his wild, unkempt appearance. But it was clear that he did not favour a powdered wig, for he wore his own dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck and that, together with his heavy dark brows and straight nose, gave him a rather hawkish appearance. With his greatcoat hanging open she could see the broad width of his chest straining beneath his brown riding jacket and the outline of his muscled thighs encased within the buckskin breeches. He exuded strength and power. She thought back to their first meeting on the edge of the moors above Halifax: that, she realised, was the perfect setting for such a wild, vigorous creature. He was not a man to be crossed, but it occurred to her that he would be a good man to have as a friend.

At that moment Mr Blackwood opened his eyes and Kitty found herself once more staring into their coal-black depths. She had the oddest feeling that he was looking into her very soul and reading her thoughts. Blushing, she forced herself to turn away. She fixed her gaze on the window again. Really, the man was insufferable. She hoped they would be reaching Hestonroyd very soon, so that they would be free of his unsettling presence.

The carriage lurched and bumped as their route wound down through a steep wooded valley. The rain had stopped, but the leaves and the ground glistened in the watery sunlight, while tumbling streams ran down the hillside, creating frothy waterfalls between the trees. The carriage slowed and came to a stand. Mr Midgley let down the window and put out his head to direct an enquiry to his coachman. Kitty could not hear the man’s reply, but it caused his master to climb out of the carriage, closely followed by Mr Blackwood. Kitty leaned across to look out of the open doorway. They had reached the valley bottom where a new cobbled road had been laid to take vehicles through the ford. Now, however, the stream was swollen by the recent rains and it rushed and tumbled across their path. Mr Midgley came back to speak to them.

‘Roberts doesn’t want to drive across the ford with you ladies inside,’ he told them. ‘He is afraid of what might happen to you if the carriage should be overturned by the fast-flowing waters. You can see that it would not be unprecedented.’ He nodded towards the far bank of the stream, where the remains of a farm cart protruded from the water. ‘Roberts thinks it would be safer for us to use the bridge yonder.’

He pointed upstream, where an ancient stone bridge arched across the waters. It was wide enough for a single horse, but it was clear that it would not accommodate a carriage.

‘Is it quite safe?’ enquired Mrs Midgley, eyeing the bridge with some misgiving.

‘Oh, aye, ma’am, the bridge is sound enough,’ said the coachman cheerfully. ‘It’s not much used now we have the new road, but the pack-horses still cross by it.’

Kitty gave a little shrug. ‘And so must we, it seems. Let us go to it.’

She followed Mrs Midgley out of the carriage and the party stood and watched as the coachman slowly drove across the ford. The water surged between the horses’ legs and frothed around the wheels of the carriage, splashing up over the coach body and making it sway alarmingly, but at last the berline was drawn up safely out of the water on the far side.

‘Excellent,’ declared Mr Midgley, ‘Well done, Roberts.’ He held his hand out to his wife. ‘Come along then, ladies. It is our turn!’

He set off towards the little bridge. The track was wet and overgrown and the ladies were obliged to hold up their skirts to keep them out of the mud. Kitty did her best to ignore Daniel Blackwood, who fell into step beside her but did not offer her his arm. The bridge was soon reached and they paused for a moment on the apex to gaze over the low parapet at the turgid water.

‘I should not like to fall in there today,’ remarked Mrs Midgley. ‘The rains have swollen the stream so much it is in danger of overflowing its banks.’

‘It has certainly flooded on this side,’ said her husband, who had walked to the edge of the bridge and was prodding the grass with his cane. ‘The ground is sodden here.’

Mrs Midgley followed her husband to where the cobbles of the bridge ended and the grassy track began.

‘Well, we have to get across,’ she said prosaically.

She laid her hand on her husband’s arm and put one foot on the track. Immediately she sank ankle-deep into the mud.

‘Oh, good heavens!’ cried Mrs Midgley, picking up her skirts and stepping quickly back on to the cobbles. ‘The ground is a quagmire. We cannot walk on that!’

‘I am afraid we have no choice, my dear,’ cried her spouse.

They watched as he strode purposefully forwards to the carriage, his feet sinking into the ground until the mud came halfway up his top-boots. When he finally reached the road he turned and looked back rather helplessly.

‘Well, what else are we to do, my love? The carriage is on this side now, so we must cross somehow.’ Daniel Blackwood stepped forward. ‘Allow me, mistress.’ In one easy movement he scooped Mrs Midgley into his arms and carried her across the muddy stretch, setting her gently on her feet beside her husband, where she stood, a little red-cheeked and flustered by such cavalier treatment.

‘Oh, well done, my boy!’ cried Mr Midgley, clapping his hands. ‘Now if you will do the same by Miss Wythenshawe we will be on our way.’

Kitty’s throat tightened in alarm. That big brute of a man was bearing down upon her, a look of unholy enjoyment in his eyes. She looked at the mud and wondered if she dared run through it, but the thought of ruining her new half-boots and very likely muddying both her walking dress and her petticoats was too horrific to bear. Her dark tormentor stood before her, grinning.

‘Well, Miss Wythenshawe, if tha’s ready?’

She bit her lip and nodded. The sensation of being swept off her feet left Kitty feeling giddy and very helpless. She was held tightly against the man’s chest, her face only inches from his jaw, so close that she could see the black stubble on his cheek and smell the damp wool of his greatcoat. As he turned his feet slipped a little on the cobbles and her hands flew up around his neck. His arms tightened even more. He held her firmly but he was not crushing her, yet for some reason she found it difficult to breathe. Her heart was pounding erratically, thudding against her ribs as if trying to escape her body. She had a sudden and inexplicable desire to lean her head against the man’s shoulder. She had to admit it looked very inviting, and reassuringly wide. She realised that this was a situation she had dreamed of, a chivalrous knight coming to the rescue of a beautiful maiden. Only in her dreams her hero was a fair, handsome young knight, one deserving of his reward, not a big, brutish oaf with no manners. She peeped up at the strong, rather hawkish face of her rescuer, noting the long black lashes around his eyes, his straight nose and the smooth curve of his lips. Suddenly, surprisingly, Kitty found herself wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

He glanced down at that moment and she found herself staring into those dark eyes, unable to look away. For one alarming moment she thought he had read her mind and that he would actually kiss her. She was in his arms and completely at his mercy. Her heart raced. A moment’s heady excitement was followed quickly by panic. To cover her confusion she said crossly, ‘Pray do not hold me so tightly. You are crushing my dress.’

He chuckled.

His amusement only served to increase her discomfiture. She said angrily, ‘I vow I cannot breathe! Loosen your hold, you oaf!’

The black brows snapped together and a dangerous gleam flared in his eyes. He released his grip on her legs and she gave a little cry as her feet touched the sodden ground.

‘Ee, lass, seems I lost my grip on thee.’ Her tormentor still had an arm around her shoulders, hugging her to him. She managed to free one hand and brought it up to his grinning face with a slap.

‘How dare you do that to a lady?’

He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing. Then, very deliberately, he let her go. She gave a shriek, her arms tightening around his neck as she tried to lift her feet from the mud. Calmly he reached up and pulled her hands away and she was obliged to stand, the cold muddy water oozing around her ankles and into her boots.

‘If that wants trettin’ like a lady,’ he growled, ‘then that mun act like one.’

And with that he turned and walked to the carriage.

Kitty lifted her sodden skirts and pulled one foot clear of the sticky, cloying mud. With slow, unsteady steps she made her way to the road, biting her lip in rage and mortification. She had been very rude, to be sure, but how dare he drop her in the water? She looked down at her feet. Her new boots were ruined and instead of a jaunty yellow decoration around the hem of her walking dress, the bottom six inches of her skirts glistened with slick brown mud.

When Kitty reached the road she was too upset to speak and after scraping the worst of the mud from her boots and stockings she climbed silently into the carriage, biting her lip while Mrs Midgley clucked and fidgeted around her like a mother hen.

Daniel looked down at his legs. His topboots were almost completely covered in mud and it had splashed up over his buckskins. He walked to the edge of the ford to wash the worst of the dirt away before climbing back into the carriage. Mr Midgley gave the word and they set off again. The atmosphere inside the carriage was distinctly uncomfortable. Daniel looked at the young woman huddled in the corner: she was staring out of the window, her jaw set hard. He saw her blink rapidly and guessed that she was trying not to cry.

‘I beg your pardon,’ he said quietly. ‘Miss Wythenshawe, I—’

‘Now, now, my boy, you did your best,’ put in Mr Midgley. ‘I did not see quite what happened, as I was helping my wife into the coach, but I am sure it could not be helped. We must be thankful that one of our ladies at least was carried safely across the mud. I have no doubt Miss Wythenshawe is most grateful for your efforts, isn’t that so, my dear?’

Daniel saw the little chin tremble. Miss Wythenshawe averted her face but he could not mistake the bitterness in her voice when she replied.

‘Mr Blackwood’s efforts will not be forgotten.’

‘There, now, all’s well, you see.’ Mr Midgley beamed around the carriage. ‘Once the mud has dried, we can clean it off and your boots and your gown will be as good as new!’

Daniel sat back, closing his lips against further comment. Mrs Midgley did not look convinced by her husband’s cheerful assurances and as for Miss Wythenshawe, she kept her gaze fixed firmly upon the passing landscape. He leaned forwards, his hand going out to her.

‘Perhaps you will allow me to—’

‘Pray do not touch me!’ she said icily. ‘I think you have done quite enough damage today!’

Daniel drew back immediately. He had been about to offer to pay for a new gown, but it was quite clear the young woman wanted nothing further to do with him. Stifling a sigh of exasperation, Daniel turned to stare out of the window beside him, praying that his nightmare journey would soon be over.

Chapter Two

The carriage slowed to negotiate a winding village street and Daniel sat up, relieved to recognise the familiar buildings.

‘Hestonroyd.’ He turned to Mr Midgley. ‘This will do for me, sir, if you would direct your driver to stop.’

Mr Midgley pulled the check-string and Daniel jumped down. He bowed and offered his thanks to Mr and Mrs Midgley but when he touched his hat to Miss Wythenshawe she merely hunched her shoulder and looked away. With a shrug he waited until the carriage had moved off then walked briskly along the street until he arrived at the gates to the Holme, an imposing new house set back from the road. As he strode up the drive, the front door flew open and a young lady ran out.

‘Daniel, at last!’

He caught her up in his arms, swinging her around and laughing.

‘Have you been looking out for me, Bella?’

He set her back on her feet.

‘Since daybreak. But what have you been doing, brother dearest? You are covered in mud.’

He grinned.

‘That is a very long story. Let us go indoors. I need to clean myself up.’

‘You must be quick, then, for Mama is waiting in the drawing room for you. Papa is at the mill, but he said we were to send word as soon as you arrived.’ She twinkled up at him. ‘He would not say so, of course, but he has missed you, and was mightily disappointed when you did not come home last night.’

Daniel put his arm around her shoulders.

‘Well, you can send him a message now to tell him I am safe, and inform Mama that I will be with her as soon as I am presentable!’

The clock in the hall had chimed two more quarters before Daniel finally made his way downstairs to the drawing room. It was a large well-proportioned chamber, comfortably furnished, everything of the finest quality, and it had a quiet elegance that Daniel found very restful. His mother was seated at her new writing desk, her dark hair neatly confined beneath a lace cap.

‘Well, Mama, I am home at last.’

She looked up, a smile lighting her face.

‘Daniel, my love.’ She rose to greet him, hugging him tightly. She would never admit it but he suspected she had spent a restless night worrying over his safety. He held her away from him.

‘You are looking very well, Mama, and that is a very fetching coat. Is it new?’

‘It is a pet-en-l’air,’ she told him, smoothing her hands over the grey velvet of the loose jacket she wore over her morning gown. ‘They are not so fashionable now, I’m afraid, but just the thing for these chill spring days.’ She gestured to him to sit down with her. ‘Bella tells me you have had an eventful journey.’

‘Yes, Marnie is lame; we took a fall coming back from Barrowford. No, no, I suffered no injury,’ he added quickly when he saw the alarm in her face. ‘I was obliged to leave Marnie in Halifax but was fortunate to meet Mr Midgley and his lady on their way to London and they took me up. They send their regards, Mama, but would not stop.’

‘That was very kind of them, but are you sure you are not hurt? No doubt you were cutting across the moors again. I wish you had kept to the roads, my son.’

‘I wish I had done so, this time,’ Daniel responded with a rueful grin. ‘You will say I was well served, Mama, for I had to spend the night sleeping on the heather.’

‘He was covered in mud,’ added Bella, following him into the room. ‘Up to his knees!’

‘Not from my sojourn on the moor,’ Daniel was quick to reassure his mother. ‘The stream was in full spate across the ford and Midgley deemed it safer for us to walk across the bridge.’

‘Heavens, if it was that muddy what did poor Mrs Midgley do?’ asked Bella, eyeing the scalloped hem of her own gown.

‘I carried her, since her husband could not.’

‘Oh, famous!’ Mrs Blackwood clapped her hands, laughing. ‘A veritable hero! I have no doubt the lady was very pleased to have you with them.’

‘She was, perhaps,’ remarked Daniel, his brow darkening, ‘but not her companion. Too high in the step for me. A right top-lofty piece …’

‘Daniel!’

‘I beg your pardon, Mama, but you know how I dislike it when people put on airs that don’t become them! And this young miss, hah! Far too high and mighty she was! She took one look at me and wrote me off as a mere nothing.’

‘I have no doubt she mistook you for a common labourer if she saw you in all your dirt,’ remarked Bella sagely. ‘I am sure she soon realised her mistake when she knew who you were.’

‘Nay,’ drawled Daniel, ‘I weren’t about to put ‘er right.’

Mrs Blackwood frowned at his sudden lapse.

‘My dear, I trust you were not uncouth.’

Daniel hesitated, thinking back over the events of the morning. He had behaved very badly by Miss Wythenshawe, he knew that, but it was too late to do anything about it now. He gave his mother an apologetic smile.

‘Alas, Mama, I fear I was very uncouth.’

A deep, amused voice was heard from the doorway.

‘What is this? Is my son up to his tricks?’

‘Papa!’ With a shriek Bella flew across the room and flung herself into the arms of the gentleman who had just entered.

‘Father.’ Daniel rose. ‘I beg your pardon, I sent a message to assure you I was safe. I did not mean you to leave the mill early—’

His father smiled across the room at him.

‘It was no hardship. ‘Tis a poor manager I would be if my manufactories could not function without my presence! But what has been occurring, my son, to bring that black scowl to your face?’

‘A minor irritation, sir, too trivial to bore you with.’

‘Good manners are never trivial, my son,’ put in Mrs Blackwood, a troubled look in her eyes. ‘I had hoped your education had taught you how to mix with your fellow man, from humble labourer to the highest in the land. But I know that temper of yours: you will act rashly if your will is crossed.’

‘Oh?’ Mr Samuel Blackwood raised his dark brows at his son. ‘And who has had the temerity to cross you, my boy?’

‘A young lady,’ put in Bella before Daniel could reply. ‘She saw Dan in all his dirt and mistook him for a rough, coarse fellow.’

‘And is my son so lax in his manners that he is judged solely upon appearance?’ asked Mr Blackwood gently.

A dull flush mantled Dan’s cheek.

‘Not generally, sir, I assure you.’

‘I am very glad to hear it,’ returned his father, smiling a little. ‘Because your manners are going to be sorely tested, I fear.’

Daniel looked up.

‘Sir?’

‘Yes, my son, I have some matters of business for you to attend to.’ Mr Blackwood reached into his pocket and took out his snuff box. ‘I am sending you to London!’

Dearest Mama. You will know from my previous correspondence that I think Lady Leaconham the kindest, most generous godmother in the world! She delights in showering gifts upon me and will not hear of my spending the money you gave me upon anything other than little luxuries for myself—pin money, she calls it—and every time I remonstrate with her she merely laughs and says what else is she to spend her money upon, if it is not her goddaughter?

Kitty put down her pen. She had been in Portman Square for four weeks now, and already Lady Leaconham had spent more money upon her than Mama and Aunt Jane earned in a year. Letitia Leaconham had been a widow for a long time. Her husband had left her with a comfortable income that allowed her to hire a house in London for several months each year and entertain her acquaintances in lavish style. She had one son, Garston, but since attaining his majority four years ago he had set up his own bachelor establishment, leaving his mama to yawn over her morning chocolate and bemoan the fact that she had no daughter to comfort her in her twilight years. She was therefore delighted to welcome her goddaughter into her house and even more delighted when she discovered Kitty to be an attractive young lady with very pretty manners. She began immediately to make plans to introduce her goddaughter to her friends, and wrote to Mrs Wythenshawe to assure her that, despite Kitty’s complete lack of fortune, she had no doubt she would be able to secure for her a very advantageous marriage.

Since this was her sole reason for coming to London, Kitty could only be grateful that her godmother entered so fully into her concerns and therefore she stifled her misgivings and threw herself into her new life. Kitty had to be honest; it was not difficult to enjoy all the amusements that London had to offer. Lady Leaconham took her to the theatre, they attended concerts, and spent hours browsing in shops that carried such a wide variety of merchandise Kitty’s eyes grew round in amazement. It was also very pleasant wearing modish gowns and having my lady’s coiffeuse coax her soft dark hair into fashionable ringlets. It had not taken Kitty long to realise that Lady Leaconham was a wealthy woman with very little to do, and she looked upon her goddaughter very much as a novelty, an amusement—a doll to be dressed and petted and exhibited to her friends. For the first week or so Kitty had found the experience deliciously exhilarating, but a life dedicated to nothing but pleasure was not something she could wholly approve. Her father had been a very religious man with a strong moral code. He had died before Kitty was twelve years old but by then she had been inculcated with his principles and a strong sense of social justice. She believed that the advantages of wealth and rank carried with them responsibility for those less fortunate, a belief that did not seem to be shared by many of the fashionable ladies she had met since arriving in Town. She took up her pen again.

Pray be assured that I carry out such errands as Godmama will allow and take her little dog for his daily exercise, but this is small recompense for her generosity.

Kitty paused. She did not think Mama would quite approve of the number of times Lady Leaconham had taken her shopping, positively showering her with purchases until Kitty’s room was overflowing with hats, bonnets, cloaks, pelisses, dancing slippers and half-boots as well as more day dresses, morning and evening gowns and walking dresses than Kitty could ever imagine having time to wear. She broke off from her reverie as the door opened and Lady Leaconham came in.

‘Ah, so there you are, Kitty my love,’ she greeted her with a smile as she drew off her gloves. ‘Now, what are you about, here all alone in the morning room?’

‘I am writing to Mama. I beg your pardon, Godmama: is there something you would like me to do for you?’

‘No, no, child, you work far too hard as it is—no one should be writing letters so early in the day!’ Kitty laughed.

‘This is not work, Godmama!’

‘Perhaps not for you,’ returned my lady, casting a dubious eye at the sheet of paper with its closely written lines. ‘I have noticed that you like to read a great deal, too.’ She looked at Kitty, a slight frown creasing her brow. ‘My dear, I do hope you are not bookish, and pray tell me you do not wish me to get you an invitation to my neighbour Mrs Montagu’s blue-stocking parties! Nothing would be more fatal to your chances of making a good match, you know.’

Kitty hastily disclaimed and Lady Leaconham gave a very visible sigh of relief.

‘Very well, my love, put away your letter now, if you please: you may finish it later. I have just come from Bond Street where I saw the prettiest pair of sandals! I just had to buy them for you. I thought they would go very well with your yellow muslin. I had Meakin put them in your room so perhaps you would run upstairs and try them on. I am expecting my sister Lady Harworth to call shortly and thought you might like to change your gown for her visit.’ Kitty looked down at her closed robe: it was one of the gowns Mama had made for her. As if reading her thoughts, Lady Leaconham said quickly, ‘I know how hard your dear mama and your aunt worked, making all those lovely gowns for you, and while they are perfectly suitable for quiet days at home, I do believe you should wear something a little more … stylish when we are entertaining guests such as Lady Harworth. And I do so want you to make a good impression upon her.’

‘Oh, why should that be, Godmama?’

‘Well, she is very well connected, and she has a daughter only a year or so older than you; I should like her to think you a fitting companion. Also.’ My lady slipped off her pelisse and gave her attention to laying it carefully over the arm of the sofa. ‘Also, she has a son, and Lord Harworth is unmarried.’

Kitty was not deceived by her airy tone.

‘Surely you do not think a lord would look at me, Godmama.’

‘I do not see why not,’ returned Lady Leaconham. ‘Now that Meakin has cut your hair and dressed it a little more stylishly, you look exceedingly pretty, and your manners are very good, so I have no doubt that if you exert yourself a little you could make yourself very agreeable—you must not talk about your family, of course.’

‘Oh, must I not?’

‘No, my dear. It is not the thing in Town to chatter on about people known only to oneself.’ My lady clasped her hands together, her pale eyes taking on a dreamy look. ‘Only think how pleased your mama would be with both of us if we were to catch you a lord!’

Kitty did not think it worth trying to reply, so she obediently slipped away to her room to change into her new gown of lemon-coloured muslin with the blue sash and to put on the soft yellow kid sandals that her godmother had purchased for her. When she returned to the morning room some twenty minutes later she found her godmother sitting with her visitors.

‘Ah, my dear, come in.’ Lady Leaconham drew her forwards. ‘Clara, may I present my goddaughter Katherine to you?’

‘Why, she is quite charming,’ cooed Lady Harworth as Kitty dropped into a deep curtsy. ‘And how old are you, child?’

‘Not yet twenty, ma’am.’

‘Oh, how wonderful. You must talk to Ann, my daughter. She is only a little older than you. She will attain her majority in June. I have no doubt you will have much in common.’

The fair-haired young lady sitting beside Lady Harworth rose to her feet, smiling.

‘Mama says that of every young lady we meet. But in your case I think she may be correct.’ Ann Harworth took Kitty’s arm and led her away to the other side of the room. ‘There is a liveliness about your countenance that I like very much.’

Kitty blushed and laughed.

‘Thank you, Miss Harworth, I hope I do not disappoint you.’

‘I am sure you will not. You come from Yorkshire, you said? We have estates there, or rather my brother does, which is the same thing. Come, sit here in the window with me and tell me how you like London!’

Kitty happily obliged and after a half-hour’s lively discussion was pleased when Miss Harworth declared that she had found a friend.

‘I am so glad to have discovered someone with a wit to match my own. And someone who knows their own mind, and is not afraid to say so, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘Am I so unusual, then?’ asked Kitty, her eyes twinkling. ‘I must learn to guard my tongue if I am not to be labelled an oddity.’

‘No, no, you must say exactly what you mean. I always do. We are holding a ball on Friday and—Mama, have you invited my aunt?’

‘Manners, my love.’ Lady Harworth frowned at her daughter’s impetuous interruption. ‘As a matter of fact we were just discussing it, as well as the little party we will be holding next month to mark your birthday, Ann.’

‘So your son will be there on Friday?’ enquired Lady Leaconham, flicking a small, triumphant glance towards Kitty.

‘I would not consider such an event without his being there,’ replied Lady Harworth. ‘It is his house now, after all, and while he says I must continue to treat everything as my own until such time as he takes a wife, it is so very difficult, for I no longer feel like the true mistress now I am a widow. But you must understand that, dear sister, since you are in very much the same position.’

‘Well, Garston is somewhat younger than his cousin, Clara, and he is content to leave everything as it was when his dear father was alive,’ replied Lady Leaconham.

Kitty heard the faint note of dissatisfaction in her voice and closed her lips tightly to prevent herself from expressing her own opinion. She had not yet met Lord Leaconham but she could not help thinking that at five-and-twenty, her godmother’s only son was more than old enough to be taking responsibility for his inheritance.

‘But you will come?’ Ann implored her. ‘Do say you will, dear Aunt!’

‘Lady Leaconham has agreed to attend, and to bring Miss Wythenshawe with her,’ replied Lady Harworth, a touch of impatience creeping into her well-modulated tones. ‘Now, pray you go away with your new friend and talk quietly so that your aunt and I may enjoy a little conversation.’

Ann turned to address Lady Leaconham.

‘Perhaps Miss Wythenshawe and I could take your dear little dog for a walk, Aunt.’

‘But Kitty took him out this morning.’

‘I am sure he would enjoy another airing,’ Ann persisted. ‘It is such a lovely day. I am sure the fresh air would do us good.’

‘Oh, do let them go out, sister,’ begged Lady Harworth. ‘My maid is sitting in the hall with nothing to do, so she may accompany them.’

In the face of such enthusiasm Lady Leaconham capitulated. Ten minutes later the girls were stepping out into Portman Square with the little Scottish terrier trotting merrily along beside them on his silken leash.

Ann gave a noisy sigh and slipped her arm through Kitty’s.

‘It is so good to be on our own, where we may say what we please. Oh, you need not worry about Norris,’ she added, as Kitty glanced back towards the maid following silently behind them. ‘She has been with us for ever and is very discreet. And I am so pleased that you will be coming on Friday.’

‘It will be my very first ball,’ Kitty admitted.

Ann gave a little squeak of excitement.

‘How wonderful! I shall be able to introduce you to everyone! How long will you be staying in Town?’

‘I do not know … as long as Lady Leaconham is pleased to have me with her.’

‘I hope it is for ever!’ cried Ann. They had reached the gate in the low railing that surrounded the gardens and she stopped. ‘This is very pretty, but shall we go instead to Hyde Park? There will be so many more interesting people there.’

Kitty hesitated. ‘I do not think …’

‘Oh, do say yes,’ Ann squeezed her arm. ‘We have only to slip across Oxford Street to get there.’

‘I do not know London as well as you, Miss Harworth, but I do not think one can slip across such a busy thoroughfare.’

‘No, but there are crossing sweepers, and we have Norris, so there can be no objection. Oh, do say yes, Miss Wythenshawe!’

Kitty was not proof against her new friend’s entreaties. They left the square, safely negotiated the traffic of Oxford Street and soon found themselves in the relative peace of the great park. Although it was not the fashionable hour there was a considerable crowd and several carriages to be seen, but once they had crossed the broad carriageway and walked some distance from the gates they found themselves alone. Kitty released the little dog and watched him running happily amongst the bushes.

‘Oh, this is infinitely better than a dusty street,’ declared Ann.

Kitty turned her face up to the sun, so much warmer here than in her native Yorkshire.

‘I have to agree, Miss Harworth.’

‘Let us be done with this formality. You must call me Ann and I shall call you Katherine.’

‘Kitty, if you please—apart from when Godmama introduces me to new acquaintances the only time I am called Katherine is when I am in disgrace.’

‘Very well, then, Kitty! And since we are now such good friends, you can tell me if you have a beau.’

‘Goodness me, no,’ replied Kitty, laughing and blushing at the same time.

‘What, is there no gentleman waiting back in Yorkshire for you?’

Kitty shook her head. ‘There were no gentlemen in Fallridge. None that Mama approved,’ she added, thinking back to the occasions when she had seen the carriages driving up to the King’s Arms for the monthly assembly.

‘Farmers and tradesmen,’ her mother had said, dismissively. ‘Very good people, I am sure, but not suitable companions for you, my love.’

‘Were you very lonely?’ asked Ann.

Kitty looked up quickly, and Ann smiled at her.

‘You looked so wistful that I thought, perhaps.’

‘Yes, I was lonely,’ Kitty confessed. ‘I should have liked to go to school—’

‘Oh, I went to school,’ broke in Ann, pulling a face. ‘It was the most horrid experience and of very little use, for apart from learning to dance what do I need with history, or the use of globes, or even to speak French, when we are forever at war with that frightful country?’

‘But surely you made friends there?’

‘Well, of course, although most of them are married now. Or betrothed.’ She flicked a glance at Kitty. ‘I am considered quite old to be still unwed, you know. Poor Mama is beginning to despair.’

‘And do you not wish to marry?

‘Oh, yes,’ replied Ann casually, ‘eventually I suppose I must accept someone. Poor Mama is even more desperate for Bertram to wed, because he is nearly forty and Mama says we must have an heir. As for me, I am enjoying myself far too much flirting with all the gentlemen of my acquaintance! Do you like flirting, Kitty?’

‘I do not think I have ever tried it.’

Her frank reply brought Ann’s astonished gaze upon her.

‘Never?’

‘No, never. I know so few gentlemen, you see. The Squire and Reverend Denny are the only gentlemen who called upon Mama, and they are both very old.’

‘But surely you must have come into contact with younger gentlemen?’ said Ann, appalled.

Kitty considered for a moment.

‘Well, there is Joshua, of course: he is the local farmer’s son who drove me to Halifax.’

‘No, a farmer’s boy does not count,’ declared Ann firmly. ‘But you must know others. Think, Kitty.’

Kitty tried to think, but the only other man who came into her mind was the fierce-eyed Mr Blackwood, and he had not even liked her. At last she shook her head, saying ruefully, ‘I fear I am not the sort of girl that gentlemen like to flirt with.’

‘Gentlemen will flirt with any female,’ Ann retorted. ‘It is quite clear to me that you have lived far too sheltered a life, Miss Kitty Wythenshawe, so we must do what we can to make it more exciting!’

Kitty laughed at her. ‘I shall be delighted if you can do so! For now, though, we had best return to Portman Square before Godmother thinks we have been kidnapped!’

Kitty called the little dog to her and fastened him on the leash, then the two young ladies set off to retrace their steps in perfect harmony. When they reached the edge of the park Kitty noticed something white fluttering against the trunk of one of the trees. As they drew closer it became clear it was a printed sheet, secured to the trunk with a nail.

‘It will be a handbill,’ said Ann, when Kitty directed her attention to the paper. ‘Perhaps there is a new play at Drury Lane!’ She stepped closer, peering up at the words. ‘No, it is one of Mr Clarkson’s meetings.’

‘Thomas Clarkson the abolitionist?’

‘You have heard of him?’

‘Why, yes,’ said Kitty, coming forwards to stare at the paper. ‘He travels the country with his talks on how badly the slaves are treated. I have never attended a meeting, however. I have only read reports.’

‘Then perhaps we should go to this one,’ said Ann slowly. ‘It is at the Red Lion in Lombard Street—in the City, where the banks are.’ She turned to Kitty, her eyes shining. ‘Shall we go? We have a week to concoct a story that will please Mama and Aunt Leaconham. We will take a hackney carriage to the City. It will be so exciting.’

‘Now, that’s enough, miss,’ said Norris, stepping up. ‘You know her ladyship will never allow it.’

‘She will not know,’ replied Ann. ‘Not a word of this to anyone, Norris, or I shall have you turned off for insolence.’

The maid snorted loudly. ‘I should like to see you try that, miss. What, when her ladyship knows just what a handful you are?’

‘You are right, of course, and I should never let you leave me, dear Norris!’ Ann put her arms about the older woman and hugged her ruthlessly. ‘But I am quite determined to go to this meeting, so you must come with us, Norris, to make sure we are safe!’

Kitty could not but admire her tactics. The maid argued for a few moments, but soon gave in to Ann’s cajoling, saying bitterly that if she refused then her mistress was quite capable of sneaking off alone and unprotected.

‘And what her ladyship would have to say about that, I don’t know,’ she ended, shaking her head.

‘No more do I, Norris,’ chuckled Ann, turning to take Kitty’s arm again. ‘Come along then, we had best make haste back to Portman Square or Mama will be demanding to know just what you were about to let us tarry so long in the gardens!’

They set off, Ann taking no notice of the maid’s outraged mutterings. Instead she began to describe for Kitty the gown she would wear to the forthcoming ball. As they prepared to cross Oxford Street Kitty found her attention caught by someone standing on the far side. There was something familiar about the tall, commanding figure encased in a close-fitting coat of dark superfine wool and nankeen knee-breeches. As they approached the gentleman turned and with dismay Kitty recognised the dark, aquiline countenance of Mr Daniel Blackwood. He was deep in conversation with another gentleman and Kitty lowered her gaze, hoping they would be able to walk by unnoticed, but her companion broke off from her talk of shell-pink satins with old rose ribbons and scalloped hems to give a delighted cry.

‘Bertram! Oh, by all that is famous, what luck is this! Kitty—it is my brother!’

With a sinking heart Kitty watched the gentleman standing with Daniel Blackwood turn towards them. She was struck immediately by the similarity between brother and sister, both fair-haired and grey-eyed, although Lord Harworth was much older and his countenance was the more serious of the two.

Introductions could not be avoided. She allowed Ann to present her to Lord Harworth but all the time she was aware of Daniel’s dark, piercing gaze fixed upon her. When at last Lord Harworth drew his companion forward she raised her eyes, opening her mouth, ready to admit they had already met, but Daniel was there before her.

‘Miss Wythenshawe and I are already acquainted.’ He spoke calmly, with no hint of the broad Yorkshire accent she had expected. Stunned, she could only watch as he reached out for her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips with all the practised ease of a gentleman. ‘So we meet again, ma’am.’

Kitty tried to think of something to say, but was distracted by the shrill barking of her canine companion. She looked down to see that the little dog was greeting Daniel like a long-lost friend, jumping up and emitting a series of ecstatic yelps.

Kitty jerked on the lead, saying sharply, ‘Down, Titan!’

Daniel raised an enquiring eyebrow. ‘Titan?’

Kitty bridled. ‘Be careful,’ she said in a voice of rigid self-control. ‘He bites.’

Daniel looked down and uttered one quiet command. ‘Sit.’

To her surprise Titan sat down immediately, obviously recognising a voice of authority.

‘Oh, how sweet,’ declared Ann. ‘He likes you, Mr Blackwood.’

‘Yes, he does,’ Daniel responded. He bent to scratch Titan’s ears. ‘Very intelligent animals, dogs. They have an instinct for a fellow’s true character, while humans are so often misled by appearances.’ He straightened. ‘Would you not agree, Miss Wythenshawe?’

The wicked glint in his black eyes made her seethe inwardly. She put up her chin and gave him back look for look.

‘I have always maintained that actions are the real mark of a gentleman, Mr Blackwood.’

He bowed. ‘Ah, but even a gentleman may fall from grace if the provocation is great enough,’ he murmured.

Kitty glared at him, guilt and anger bringing a flush to her cheeks.

‘But what are you doing here, Bertram?’ Ann demanded of her brother. ‘Are you on your way home from your club?’

‘No, no, I have been meeting with Blackwood. He is advising me on a—ah—business venture that I am considering. When I found he was staying in Greenwich, I told him it was foolish of him to remain at the Spread Eagle when there is so much I want to discuss with him, so he has agreed to be my guest for the remainder of his stay.’

‘You never told me about this, Bertram,’ said Ann, smiling up at Daniel in a way that Kitty considered to be far too friendly.

‘We have only this minute decided upon it,’ replied her brother. ‘We are on our way back to Harworth House now, to send a messenger to Greenwich with instructions for Blackwood’s man to pack everything up and bring it here. But what are you doing out, Ann?’ asked Lord Harworth. ‘Does Mama know?’

‘Oh, yes,’ came the airy reply. ‘She is visiting Aunt Leaconham. Aunt is Miss Wythenshawe’s godmama, you know. We offered to take her dog for a walk and are on our way back to Portman Square now. Why do you not come with us? You can say hello to Aunt Leaconham and I am sure Mama would be glad of your escort back to Cavendish Square.’

‘An excellent idea,’ declared Lord Harworth, holding out his arm to Kitty. ‘What do you say, Blackwood, will you help me escort these two young ladies to Portman Square? It is not far out of our way and there will still be plenty of time to get a message to your man and have him back here with your bags before dinner.’

Kitty’s hopes rose a little when Daniel hesitated.

‘Will that not be an imposition? After all, I do not know Lady Leaconham.’

‘Then we shall introduce you,’ cried Ann. ‘I am sure she will be pleased to meet an acquaintance of her goddaughter. Besides,’ she added naughtily, as she took Daniel’s arm, ‘I am intrigued to know more of you, sir. Miss Wythenshawe assured me she had no personable gentlemen amongst her acquaintance.’

‘Did she indeed?’ Again those coal-black eyes quizzed Kitty. ‘I suppose our meeting slipped her mind. It was quite a trivial event, after all.’

Trivial! Kitty’s eyes blazed with fury. She had been picked up and dropped, quite callously, into cold, muddy water that had quite ruined her gown and boots and stockings. If Godmama had not been so generous she would even now be obliged to walk out in skirts stained quite six inches deep at the hem!

‘You are right.’ She threw the words over her shoulder as she and Lord Harworth led the way back to Portman Square. ‘I had quite forgotten you, Mr Blackwood.’

Kitty turned her attention to her escort, forcing herself to converse with Lord Harworth as they made their way back to Lady Leaconham’s house, but all the time part of her mind was racing with conjecture about Daniel Blackwood. Just to know he was behind her made her spine tingle, as if he might pounce upon her at any moment. What was he doing in London, and what had happened to the rough country voice he had used in Yorkshire? She thought she knew the answer to her last question and her conscience pricked her when she remembered how uncivil she had been towards him. She had assumed he was a rough labourer and he had responded in kind. She deserved that trick, she acknowledged, but she had not deserved his subsequent treatment of her! Her indignation grew with every step and by the time they arrived at Lady Leaconham’s door Kitty was full of righteous fury. When they entered the hall she left all the explanations to Miss Harworth and stalked past the wooden-faced butler to hand Titan over to a hovering footman. By the time she turned back the rest of the party were divesting themselves of hats and surcoats. Daniel took advantage of the confusion to step up to her.

‘I have long wanted to offer you an apology, Miss Wythenshawe,’ he said quietly. ‘My actions when we last met were inexcusable.’

‘I do not want your apology!’ she said in a fierce whisper, and immediately regretted her incivility.

‘But I would like to make some recompense to you—I fear I ruined your gown—’

A mixture of anger and remorse combined in Kitty and she answered recklessly, ‘My gown is of no consequence. I have trunks full of clothes, so you need concern yourself no further with me!’

With that she put her nose in the air and sailed into the morning room.

***

‘After you, Blackwood.’

Lord Harworth was standing back, waiting for Daniel to follow the ladies.

‘Thank you, I really do not—’ Daniel bit off the words. He wanted to tell Harworth to go to the devil and storm out of the house, but that would be the height of incivility, and, however little Miss Wythenshawe might think of him, he had been brought up a gentleman and would act like one. Curbing his temper, he nodded and strode into the room, forcing himself to smile and say everything that was required of him, but all the time he was aware of Kitty standing in the corner, biting her lip and darting fiery looks at him from those stormy green eyes. He had offered her his apology and it had been rebuffed. He clenched his jaw, smiling with even more spurious interest at something Ann Harworth was saying. If the chit could not bring herself to act in a civilised manner than he would have to show her how it was done!

Kitty could barely suppress a sigh of relief when at last the visitors took their leave and it was the greatest trial for her to sit quietly while her godmama declared herself delighted with the success of the visit.

‘And what a sly little puss you are, my love,’ Lady Leaconham chuckled, tapping Kitty’s knuckles playfully with her fan. ‘I send you out for a little walk and you return with two eligible gentlemen in tow!’

‘Mr Blackwood is not in the least eligible,’ protested Kitty.

‘He is my nephew’s guest, is he not? To be sure a mill-owner’s son is not what your mama would like for you, but he is very gentlemanlike, and he is related to some of the wealthiest shipping families in Liverpool.’

‘It smacks of trade, Godmama.’

‘It smacks of a fortune, my dear,’ responded Lady Leaconham drily. ‘However, I will grant you that a man like Mr Blackwood should only be considered as a last resort. Lord Harworth would be a more prestigious match for you.’

‘He is indeed more what Mama had in mind,’ agreed Kitty. ‘But is he not a little … old, Godmama?’

‘At eight-and-thirty? Not at all, my love. It makes it all the more likely that he is looking in earnest for a wife. But we must be practical. Every cap in Town will be set at such an eligible parti. However, not every young lady will have an invitation to the Harworth ball, so I have great hopes for Friday, my love. Great hopes indeed!’

Chapter Three

Any hopes Kitty might have had for her very first ball were eclipsed by apprehension. Mama had insisted that learning to dance was a prime requirement for every young lady but Kitty was very sure that dancing with the Squire’s daughters in the privacy of Fallridge Manor was a very different matter from standing up with a gentleman in a crowded ballroom. And she would have to stand up at least once because Lord Harworth, prompted by his sister, had requested that she save a dance for him.

When Friday arrived Kitty resolved to wear the evening gown that Mama had made for her rather than any of the dresses purchased by Lady Leaconham. Politely but firmly she rejected her godmother’s suggestions of the pink sarcenet or the blue spider gauze and insisted on wearing the simple white crape gown ornamented with silver embroidery to the sleeves and hem. Aunt Jane had embroidered a silk shawl to match and she had a pair of white satin dancing slippers to complete the ensemble. Kitty was quite satisfied with the result, but she was more than a little nervous when she joined her godmother in the drawing room

‘Well, Godmama, what do you think?’

She spread her skirts and gave a little twirl before fixing her anxious gaze upon Lady Leaconham.

‘To be sure it is a much simpler design than the evening gowns I had made for you,’ said my lady, studying her closely. Kitty held her breath. At length her godmother smiled. ‘But is looks quite perfect upon you, my love. And no one will recognise the seamstress, you may be sure of that.’ She blinked rapidly and began to hunt for her handkerchief. ‘You look like an angel, my dear.’

‘She does indeed!’

Kitty spun round to see a rather portly young gentleman in the doorway, regarding her through his quizzing glass.

‘Garston!’ Lady Leaconham flew up from her chair in a flutter of lace. ‘My dear boy, when did you return to Town?’

‘At noon, Mama,’ replied Lord Leaconham, suffering her embrace. ‘Thought I should come and tell you I was back. Didn’t know you had company …’

‘My love, this is my goddaughter Katherine, come to keep me company for a few weeks,’ said Lady Leaconham. ‘Kitty, my dear, allow me to present my son Garston to you.’

Kitty dropped into a curtsy, blushing a little as Lord Leaconham bowed over her hand.

‘Delighted, Miss Wythenshawe. Proule informs me that you are about to go out, so I know that all this splendour is not in my honour.’

‘We are off to Harworth House,’ replied Lady Leaconham, a note of triumph creeping into her voice. ‘Your cousin Ann has taken a great liking to dear Kitty. Why do you not come with us, my son? I am sure your aunt would have invited you, had she known you were back in Town.’

Lord Leaconham was still casting an admiring eye over Kitty, who found the prolonged scrutiny a little unnerving.

‘I am dining with friends at my club tonight but I may well look in later.’

‘Well, if you are coming, pray be in time to dance with Kitty and do not spend all your time in the supper room,’ replied his mother, picking up her wrap. ‘Now, we must be off. Come along, my dear, we will go downstairs to wait for the carriage.’

Lady Harworth might complain that her house was not situated on the magnificent west side of Cavendish Square but it seemed to Kitty that the whole of fashionable London was intent upon attending the ball. The square was crowded with vehicles. Coachmen and postillions traded insults while liveried footmen directed the carriages to the entrance before tenderly handing down the occupants and escorting them into the house.

Kitty followed Lady Leaconham up the wide sweeping staircase, her nervousness somewhat alleviated when she saw Ann waiting for her at the top of the stairs, a beaming smile upon her face as she held out her hand to Kitty.

‘Is this not wonderful? I have never seen so many carriages in the square before. It is going to be such a squeeze, and Mama has hired a whole host of musicians to play for us. I cannot wait for the dancing to begin!’

‘Well, you must contain yourself a little longer,’ put in her mother, directing a smile towards Kitty. ‘There are any number of people still to arrive. Now pray, Ann, allow Miss Wythenshawe to move on, that the other guests may approach.’

Kitty glanced behind her: a column of gorgeously gowned ladies and elegant gentlemen stretched all the way down the stairs. It was quite unnerving to see so many strange faces. She knew so few people, despite having been in Town for a whole month. Kitty was so daunted by this thought that when she saw Daniel Blackwood enter the house and join the line she could not suppress a smile of relief.

It was unfortunate that the gentleman should glance up at that moment, raising his brows when he saw her smiling down at him. Kitty quickly turned away, blushing furiously. What had possessed her to smile at the man? Resolutely putting this aberration aside, she followed her godmother into the ballroom, only to stop on the threshold and gaze about her in astonishment. The lofty room was ablaze with light from several glittering chandeliers. Everywhere was colourful and noisy confusion, the sounds of the musicians tuning up adding to the laughter and chatter of the guests.

‘Good evening, Aunt, Miss Wythenshawe.’ Lord Harworth stepped up to them and bowed. He gazed at Kitty, appreciation in his slightly protuberant grey eyes. ‘I hope, Miss Wythenshawe, that you have not forgotten you have promised to dance with me later this evening?’

Kitty gave him a shy little smile. ‘No, indeed, my lord.’

‘Good,’ responded his lordship. ‘Capital. I shall look forward to it.’

‘Well, that is an exciting start,’ declared Lady Leaconham, as Lord Harworth moved off to greet more guests.

‘It is, ma’am,’ said Kitty, feeling rather overawed. ‘At least I shall have one dance partner tonight, and if Lord Leaconham should turn up and dance with me as well I shall think myself very content.’

‘Oh, I do not think we need to rely upon Garston tonight,’ declared her godmother, her voice rich with satisfaction. ‘I have already noticed several gentlemen looking at you with interest, my love. I shall introduce you to everyone I know, and with you looking so very pretty this evening I have no doubt that we shall soon find you any number of partners. And with luck a good many of them will be unmarried!’ She took Kitty’s arm and began to look around her. ‘Now, where shall we begin?’

Between them, Lady Leaconham and Miss Harworth introduced Kitty to so many people—turbaned matrons, bewhiskered lords and eager young gentlemen—that there was no possibility of her remembering all their names, but she should not complain, for when the musicians finally began to play she had the satisfaction of walking out on to the dance floor to join the very first set. Her initial anxiety soon disappeared as she realised she was familiar with all the steps and she uttered up a silent prayer to the squire for employing such an excellent dancing master. After that first dance, she found there were a number of gentlemen eager to partner her and she began to enjoy herself. Rather to his mother’s surprise, Lord Leaconham arrived in time to stand up with Kitty for a minuet and even came back later to escort the two ladies to the supper room, where he remained to entertain them until it was time to return to the dancing.

***

It was towards the end of the evening when Lord Harworth came to claim his dance with Kitty. He appeared to be in the very best of spirits, although she suspected that the high colour in his cheeks was partly the result of the rather potent punch being served at supper. After a particularly lively country dance he pulled her hand on to his arm.

‘Well done, Miss Wythenshawe. My sister informs me this is your very first ball, but to see you dance one would never know it.’

‘Thank you, my lord,’ Kitty replied. ‘I did not expect to enjoy myself half so much. Everyone has been most kind, especially you, sir, and your sister.’

‘Phshaw!’ Lord Harworth puffed out his chest. ‘Think nothing of it, Miss Wythenshawe. Now, where shall I take you, who is your next dance partner?’

‘Why, sir, I do not think I have one, so perhaps you could escort me back to Lady Leaconham.’

‘What, no partner?’ cried my lord. ‘But these will be the last dances of the night. We cannot have you sitting out! I promised m’sister we would keep you amused tonight, so we must see what we can do.’

Lord Harworth raised his head and began to look about him.

Kitty disclaimed and declared herself perfectly ready to join her godmother, but her escort merely patted her hand as he raised his voice to address someone.

‘Blackwood—just the man! You are not dancing?’

The press of people had prevented Kitty from spotting Daniel Blackwood, but she saw him now as he stepped towards them, unsmiling, towering over her, a dark and brooding figure in the colourful crowd.

He said briefly, ‘No, my lord. I do not dance.’

‘Nonsense, man, you trod a very pretty measure with Ann earlier this evening, I saw you! I have here a delightful partner for you.’

Kitty went cold.

‘Believe me, my lord,’ she began, ‘there is no need—’

‘Nonsense, you will be doing Mr Blackwood a great service,’ cried Lord Harworth jovially. ‘I am appalled to think he has been standing around all evening.’

‘I assure you, my lord,’ Daniel began, his tone clipped, ‘I have partnered more than one young lady tonight—’

‘Then you must dance again, sir!’ Lord Harworth took Kitty’s hand and held it out. ‘Come along, Blackwood, take Miss Wythenshawe to the floor!’

Kitty thought she might die of embarrassment. Daniel, his face cold and shuttered, held out his arm to her and when she slipped her fingers on to his sleeve he silently led her away.

‘I am sorry,’ she managed, biting her lip. ‘I know you want this as little as I do.’

‘Society has its rules, madam, and we must both adhere to them.’

His indifferent tone had its effect in rousing Kitty’s spirit. She put up her chin.

‘For either of us to walk away would have given rise to conjecture.’

‘Quite,’ he replied. ‘So let us get through this dance as best we may.’

‘Certainly,’ she said icily. ‘After all, we need only stand up for one dance, and there is no necessity for us to speak to one another.’

However, once the music started and she put her hand into his, something very strange happened. It was as if she had danced with Daniel Blackwood many times before: their steps matched perfectly as they followed the traditional movement of the country dance and when they were required to separate their fingers seemed reluctant to part. Bemused, Kitty raised her eyes and regarded her partner, only to find him watching her with a fierce glow in his eyes that brought the colour rushing to her cheeks. She had danced with many gentlemen that evening, she had even performed a very stately minuet with one fair-haired young man reputed to be the epitome of a fashionable Adonis, yet none had had the same effect upon her. Not one of them had infused her with the soaring elation she experienced now, the feeling that she and her partner were alone in the room, the only people in the world.

The dance drew to its conclusion. He bowed, she made her curtsy, but neither made any move to leave the floor. The cry went up for the last dance and suddenly they were surrounded by even more couples, all jostling to find space. With so many dancers on the floor Kitty found herself very close to Daniel, so close that she could not move without her arm brushing his sleeve. Kitty looked up and saw the rueful smile upon his face as if he, too, realised there could be no possibility of maintaining a cool reserve once the lively music began. With a jolt of surprise Kitty realised she did not mind. Suddenly all the hurt and anger she had felt for the man melted away. He took her hands.

‘Are we ready, Miss Wythenshawe?’

She found herself smiling up at him.

‘Perfectly, Mr Blackwood.’

Kitty would never forget that final country dance at Harworth House. It was hot and noisy and it seemed as if all the world was crushed into the ballroom, everyone bouncing and skipping, laughing and shouting and determined to expend every last ounce of energy before they went home. Garston and Lord Harworth were on the floor, each squiring a handsome young lady, and at one point she came close to Ann dancing with the fair-haired Adonis, but Kitty hardly noticed them. All her attention was on Daniel. She no longer thought him dark and menacing. She could see beyond the rather austere cast of his countenance to the warmth in his dark eyes, the faint curve of his lips that was not quite a smile yet told her he was happy to be at her side. He was not the tallest man in the room yet to Kitty he stood head and shoulders above every other gentleman. He held her hand and led her confidently about the room, skilfully manoeuvring to put himself in the way and prevent her from being buffeted by the jostling dancers. He bore no resemblance to the boorish brute who had treated her so abominably, but instead was more like a guardian angel, strong, gentle and protective. She stole another look at him as he danced her down the line. No, not an angel: the strong jaw and athletic frame were more those of a warrior. A hero. By the time the music ended Kitty was the victim of such conflicting emotions that she dare not even look at her partner. She wanted to appear calm and assured, but she suddenly felt extremely shy.

Daniel was enjoying himself. It surprised him, for the stately minuets of the first part of the evening had been a lifetime away from the lively dances he had enjoyed at home and, although he had partnered one or two of the blushing young ladies Lady Harworth had brought up to him, he had found the evening a little dull. He had even considered how soon he would be able to make his excuses and retire. If Harworth had not persuaded him to stay in Cavendish Square he could have excused himself on the grounds of the long journey back to Greenwich. To leave the party and travel no further than the next floor would be the height of incivility.

He had been aware of Miss Wythenshawe from the first moment he had looked up and seen her at the top of the stairs, such a delightful smile on her face that his heart had flipped over, until he came to his senses and realised that there was no possibility that she could have directed such a smile at him, and he looked around him, trying to discover just who was the lucky recipient of her favour. He had done his best to prevent his eyes dwelling on her as she glided about the room in her sparkling white gown, her dark curls glowing in the candlelight. She had made it very plain that she despised him and thus she was not worth his notice. When Harworth had insisted he lead her on to the floor Daniel had fully intended to leave her after that first dance together, to make some excuse to quit the ballroom, but she had been so light on his arm, had danced so beautifully that he had forgotten she was the proud disdainful woman who had scorned him. He saw only an entrancing, ethereal creature that bewitched his senses. So he persuaded himself that it was only polite to remain for the last set. Harworth would expect it of him.

The final, energetic measure of the evening was much more like the assemblies he attended at Hestonroyd: too many dancers, too little space. He remembered standing up with his sister Bella, leading her through the movement of the dance and all the time trying to protect her from the other couples who were charging up and down the room. But this silver and white creature beside him was most definitely not his bouncing, boisterous sister! He was almost sorry when the music ended. He stood beside his partner as they joined in the spontaneous applause for themselves and the musicians, then he held out his arm, ready to escort her back to Lady Leaconham. Some of his good mood evaporated when he looked down at the still little figure beside him. Her lips were firmly closed and she laid only the tips of her fingers on his sleeve, as if she could not bring herself to touch him. He was disappointed at the change from his lively, sparkling dance partner. Silently he delivered her back to Lady Leaconham but in response to his parting bow her thanks to him were uttered in a cold, stilted manner and she turned away immediately. Daniel’s jaw tightened. So much for enchantment!

‘An excellent evening, eh, Blackwood?’ Lord Harworth came up to him, his mother leaning on his arm. ‘I hope you enjoyed yourself, sir. ‘Twas your first ball here in Town, was it not?’

‘It was, my lord.’

‘I doubt you have such glittering occasions in the north, Mr Blackwood,’ remarked Lady Harworth.

‘Certainly we cannot boast such elevated society as one finds in Town, ma’am,’ returned Daniel, ‘but we have our balls and assemblies.’

‘Indeed, Mama, they ain’t savages,’ chuckled Lord Harworth. ‘And we shall soon be adding to the society, ma’am, will we not?’ He turned to Daniel, smiling. ‘Mama has suggested that we should open Kirkleigh Hall and take a party to Yorkshire in July. You suggested we should travel north to look at the mills and Kirkleigh is perfectly placed between Hestonroyd and Arkwright’s mills at Cromford, less than a day’s ride from either place. No harm in mixing a little business with pleasure, eh, Blackwood?’

‘No indeed, my lord,’ said Daniel. ‘Although I had planned to show you more than just Cromford: if you are serious in building a mill of your own we shall not have a great deal of time for society—’

‘Nonsense, sir, there is always time for society!’ declared Lord Harworth. ‘We shall take a little longer over the business, that is all, and I have no doubt Mama will like to entertain while we are there—even a ball, eh, Mama, now you have seen Blackwood dance? I am sure we can find you a few pretty girls to stand up with, although none to surpass your last partner.’ He gave Daniel a playful dig in the ribs. ‘Exceptionally pretty little thing, ain’t she?’

‘Miss Wythenshawe?’ said Daniel coolly. ‘She is far above my touch.’

‘Indeed?’ said Lady Harworth, suddenly showing an interest. She turned to watch Kitty as she walked out of the room. ‘Letitia was not very forthcoming about her family. I believe she comes from the north, too—do you know her family, Mr Blackwood? Are they very wealthy?’

Lord Harworth laughed.

‘Must be as rich as Croesus if they won’t look at Blackwood, Mama. His family owns half of the West Riding!’

Daniel disclaimed, but Lady Harworth was not listening. She excused herself, saying, ‘I believe my dear sister is about to leave, and I must go and say goodbye to her.’

‘Well, that was a success and no mistake!’ Lady Leaconham settled herself back into the corner of her carriage and gave a satisfied sigh. ‘You danced every dance, and I cannot tell you how many compliments I received for you, my love! You were enchanting.’

Kitty gave a little nod but said nothing. She knew that at least one person was less than delighted with her. She had been quite dismayed by her behaviour towards Daniel Blackwood at the end of the evening, when she had suddenly been overcome with nerves. She had intended to be charmingly grateful for his standing up with her, yet when she spoke she had been cool to the point of rudeness. Even now she was embarrassed to think of it.

So she would not, she decided quickly. She would concentrate instead upon what her godmother was saying.

‘Yes, Kitty dear, I could see from the first that Lady Harworth was disposed to like you. I was afraid she might think you a little too pretty, but with your dark hair you are such a contrast to Ann’s fair beauty that you complement one another perfectly! And nothing could have exceeded Clara’s affability, when she came up to us just as we were leaving. She hinted at many more invitations this summer.’

‘How delightful for you, Godmama.’

‘For me? Kitty, you little goose, the invitations will be for you, too.’

‘But I have already been with you for a whole month, ma’am. I thought I should be thinking of returning home very soon …’

‘Nonsense,’ retorted her godmother briskly. ‘A month is nothing, and if my niece has taken to you then nothing could be better than for the two of you to be seen together—so much more attractive than to be always accompanied by a matron!’ Lady Leaconham paused while she smoothed the wrinkles from her long gloves. ‘My sister can seem a little … cold to those she thinks beneath her notice, but I know she takes her responsibilities very seriously. I have no doubt she would like to see Bertram settled and raising a hopeful family, but Ann must be causing her some anxiety, to be nearing one-and-twenty and still unmarried! So I can quite see why Clara is happy to promote your friendship with her daughter. Two such pretty young ladies out on the Town together will be sure to attract any number of gentlemen.’ Lady Leaconham reached out and placed a hand on Kitty’s knee, saying urgently, ‘Think of it, my dear: if we can secure a gentleman of good birth with even a modest fortune, the settlements will allow your mama and her sister to give up their sewing and live in the manner more suitable to their stations!’

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ said Kitty, brightening. ‘And you think it is possible, Godmama?’

‘I think it very likely,’ returned Lady Leaconham, leaning back in her corner. ‘You charmed a number of gentlemen this evening, even my nephew. What a great thing it would be if he were to offer for you.’

‘Lord Harworth? Oh, no, ma’am, surely not. He was merely being kind to me, because I am your goddaughter.’

‘He showed you a great deal of attention, my love. But perhaps you are right: we must not be too ambitious for you. But neither must we settle for anything less than your equal in birth—whoever we choose for you must be a gentleman!’

From the number of callers at Portman Square over the next few days it did indeed appear that Kitty had made a good impression at her very first ball, as her godmother was quick to explain to Ann when she came to see Kitty.

‘I am delighted to hear it,’ declared Ann, smiling. ‘I have never known Mama to be so taken with any of my friends before.’ She added, when Lady Leaconham had left the two young ladies alone, ‘Was it not the most wonderful ball? I was engaged for every dance, and whenever I looked across you were always dancing, too!’

‘Yes, I was very fortunate. I had not looked for such attention.’

‘And you even persuaded dour Mr Blackwood to stand up with you.’

‘Why do you call him dour?’ asked Kitty, intrigued in spite of herself.

Ann wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, he is perfectly polite,’ she said slowly, ‘but he is so very quiet, and only seems to want to talk business with Bertram.’ Her eyes twinkled and she added ruefully, ‘He makes no attempt to flirt with me. In fact, he makes no attempt to engage my attention at all! I am most impressed that he danced with you.’

‘That was your brother’s doing.’ Kitty felt the colour rising to her cheeks. ‘I think, since he is staying in your house, he could hardly refuse to dance with me when Lord Harworth suggested it.’

‘Yes, that will be it.’ Ann nodded. ‘They have become wondrous great friends. My brother wrote to old Mr Blackwood when he first conceived the idea of building a mill and they were corresponding for several months before Mr Daniel Blackwood came to London. Bertram says that with the exception of Mr Arkwright, no one knows more about mills and manufacturing than the Blackwoods. But this is very boring talk! Let us discuss instead the Abolition meeting tomorrow evening. Have you given any thought to how we shall get there?’

‘I confess I have not,’ admitted Kitty. ‘Perhaps we should not go, if your mama disapproves …’

‘Mama disapproves of everything except achieving a great match for Bertram and the same for me,’ declared Ann. ‘I am determined to go. It is quite the fashion now, you know, to support the abolition of the slave trade.’

‘My family have been fighting against slavery since before I was born,’ replied Kitty. ‘My father was vehemently opposed to it, and my mother still does what she can—we do not buy sugar from the West Indian plantations, you know.’ She wanted to add that Mama could not afford to buy very much sugar at all, but remembered her godmother’s warning that she should not chatter on about her family. Ann was regarding her with admiration.

‘How good you are! I have no idea whether Bertram has any slaves, but I am even more determined that we shall go to the meeting tomorrow. Now all you need do is to tell Aunt Leaconham that I am taking you to join us for dinner tomorrow and that we will not be returning until late. What time shall I call for you?’

‘It cannot be too early,’ replied Kitty. ‘I have an engagement tomorrow. With Lord Leaconham. He is going to take me driving in the park.’

She ended a little hesitantly. Garston had issued the invitation and Kitty had accepted quite happily without reference to her godmother, but when Lady Leaconham heard of her plans she had looked a little shocked.

‘I am sorry, Godmama,’ Kitty had said, anxious and bemused. ‘I thought there could be no harm in going out with Lord Leaconham in an open carriage.’

‘No, of course not. It is just that …’ Lady Leaconham bit her lip and gazed at Kitty, a shadow of unease in her eyes. ‘It is just … I do not want you to develop a tendre for Garston, my dear. I had planned on finding him, um.’

‘You want him to take a rich wife,’ Kitty finished for her. She had been in Town long enough to know that every man and woman of marriageable age was intent upon making a brilliant match. ‘Yes, I quite see that, Godmama, and you need have no fear: I am sure Lord Leaconham only offered to take me out in order to please you.’

‘I expect you are right,’ said Lady Leaconham, much relieved, ‘and it will give you the opportunity to be seen in the park at the fashionable hour.’

So Lady Leaconham gave the outing her blessing.

Kitty set off with Lord Leaconham, knowing that her godmother would be far more disapproving of her engagement with Ann Harworth, if ever she learned the truth of it.

It was a beautiful summer’s day and much as Kitty wanted to turn her face up to the skies and feel the sun’s warmth on her skin, she knew that this would be frowned upon. Instead she unfurled her parasol, looking around her with interest as Lord Leaconham drove his phaeton through the busy London streets. Her initial apprehension at riding so high above the ground soon disappeared and she relaxed, looking forward to her excursion.

‘Heavens, how crowded it is,’ she remarked, as they turned in through the park gates. ‘I thought it busy enough when Miss Harworth and I brought Titan here for a walk one morning.’

‘Oh, I have seen it ten times worse than this,’ cried Garston, gaily flourishing his whip. ‘I have been here when we have been forced to crawl along at a snail’s pace because there is so much traffic. But it is not yet five o’clock. We are early. I have no doubt it will fill up later.’

Kitty heard this with dismay. She had been expecting the great park to offer some peace and solitude after the hustle and bustle of the busy streets but all she could see was a host of fashionably dressed people riding, driving or walking, everyone intent on seeing and being seen.

Their own progress was slow for the park was full of Garston’s friends, some of whom she knew, but many she did not, so that each stop necessitated explanations and a few moments’ conversation.

‘Well, Miss Wythenshawe, are you enjoying yourself?’ Lord Leaconham enquired as they moved off from yet another introduction.

‘Why, yes, my lord. Very much. Although I am afraid that with so many of your acquaintances here today we shall not complete even one circuit of the park.’

He laughed. ‘What a jokesmith you are, Miss Wythenshawe! One does not come to Hyde Park for the drive! No, no: when I go to White’s this evening I shall be complimented on the fine new rig I was driving this afternoon, and of course upon my charming companion. To be seen here will bring you to the attention of a great number of useful people, I assure you.’

She did not know what to reply; she was not at all sure she wanted to be brought to anyone’s attention.

Kitty was beginning to wonder if she would be back in Portman Square before Ann called for her when she suddenly heard her escort give a low whistle.

‘By heaven, that is a most beautiful piece of horseflesh.’

Kitty looked up to see two riders approaching and had no difficulty in recognising the creature that had drawn Garston’s admiration—a sleek black horse with a deep chest, refined head and a bold eye. The animal seemed well aware that it was a handsome beast for it carried itself proudly, almost as proudly as the straight-backed gentleman in the saddle: Daniel Blackwood. He was accompanied by Lord Harworth but to Kitty’s mind neither the older man’s bearing nor his glossy bay hack could compare with the dark grandeur of Daniel and his mare. But Kitty remembered seeing the very same horse and rider when they had looked much less grand, covered in mud in a lane above Halifax. Once again the mortification of that encounter overwhelmed her and she hoped fervently that the two riders might not see them in the crowd, but Lord Leaconham pulled up the team, waving his whip to attract their attention. She smothered her dismay as the gentlemen drew rein and turned their mounts towards the phaeton.

Lord Harworth greeted Kitty in his usual friendly way but his companion gave only a slight nod of recognition.

‘Blackwood, ain’t it? We met at the ball the other night. By Jove, that’s a fine horse you have there, sir,’ declared Garston. ‘Broad chest, good sloping shoulders, intelligent eye—magnificent!’

Daniel acknowledged the compliment with a nod.

‘Thank you. She’s Yorkshire bred, of course.’

‘Of course.’ Garston laughed. ‘We’ve a few good hunters at Leaconham but nothing as fine as that.’ He cocked an eyebrow at Daniel. ‘How much d’you want for her? She looks up to my weight. Yes, I’d like to buy that mare.’

Daniel’s dark brows rose.

‘What, when you haven’t seen her put through her paces?’

‘No need, Blackwood. I can tell just by looking that she is a good all-round mount, certainly at home here in Town, but I have no doubt she comes into her own in the hunting field. Well, Blackwood, what d’you say? Name your price, sir!’

‘Thank you, my lord, but no. Marnie has been with me for so long I believe she will see her days out in my company.’

‘As you wish,’ replied Garston, shrugging. ‘But I’m not beat yet. Mayhap you will give me a chance to win her from you one night, when we’ve had a few glasses of wine together. Now what d’ye say to that, sir, eh?’

Kitty saw the faint hint of contempt creep into Daniel’s dark eyes.

‘I never gamble—’

‘Never gamble?’ cried Garston, ‘why, man, you will be telling me you don’t like cock-fighting next!’

‘As a matter of fact, I don’t,’ Daniel replied curtly. ‘But I was going to say that I never gamble with what is important to me.’

‘Ha, very wise,’ agreed Lord Harworth. ‘That’s a lesson we could all learn, eh, Leaconham? But we are holding you up, sir, and we should not keep the horses standing. Nor should we keep a lady here in this heat. You will want to get on, Miss Wythenshawe.’ He smiled at Kitty. ‘Has that madcap sister of mine acquainted you with her latest scheme?’ Kitty’s eyes widened. Had Ann told her brother of their visit to Lombard Street that evening? She was about to speak when Lord Harworth continued, saying jovially, ‘A picnic! My mother has a small property a little way out of town, on the Cambridge road. She rarely uses it but the grounds are very pretty and Ann has decided we should dine there, al fresco’

‘Miss Harworth has said nothing to me, my lord,’ replied Kitty, thanking Providence she had not mentioned the Abolition meeting.

‘Well, depend upon it she will. I have no doubt that she is even now plaguing my mother to write the invitations.’ He touched his hat. ‘Good day to you, Miss Wythenshawe. Leaconham.’

As the gentlemen moved off, Garston turned in his seat to watch them.

‘Do you know, I was not that enamoured of Blackwood when I first met him. Far too serious for me, and he drinks hardly anything—Bertram tells me he never goes beyond the third bottle. Not the sort to go out on a spree! But having seen his horse, damn me, I think he can’t be such a bad fellow after all! I can even forgive him for not liking to gamble! Seems to be great friends with Harworth.’

‘I believe Mr Blackwood is a manufacturer,’ said Kitty carefully.

‘Ah, that might explain his gloomy looks,’ nodded Garston, setting his team in motion. ‘Not brought up to enjoy himself, or to appreciate the finer things in life.’

‘He is a very good dancer,’ she responded, determined to be fair.

‘Ah, well, that might give him an advantage with the ladies, but a man without a taste for gambling, or cock-fighting, well—’

He broke off as he negotiated the busy road leading out of the park and Kitty was pleased to let the subject drop. She had come perilously close to defending Daniel Blackwood, and that would never do!

There was little time for conversation when she returned to Portman Square. By the time she had changed her gown and tidied her hair, Lord Harworth’s carriage was at the door. She had told her godmother that Ann had invited her to dine since her mother and brother were to be out that evening. This was perfectly true, but what she did not explain was that they would be having a very hurried dinner before setting out for Lombard Street.

During her short time in London Kitty had never been further east than St Paul’s, but now they were venturing deep into the City and she felt a little apprehensive as their hired cab trundled over the cobbles in the narrow streets.

‘Is this not exciting?’ exclaimed Ann, her eyes shining. ‘I have never been to a public meeting before!’

‘I am not sure that your mama or your brother would approve,’ murmured Kitty, regarding the garishly painted inn where the carriage had drawn up.

‘No, that is why I suggested we should be veiled,’ Ann replied, unabashed. ‘And why I did not want to use one of our own carriages with the crest upon the door.’ She laughed. ‘Do not look so anxious, dear Kitty. We shall be perfectly safe for we have Norris with us, do we not?’

Kitty nodded, trying to look more cheerful, but a quick glance at Ann’s maid sitting silent and tight-lipped in the corner was far from reassuring. However, when they had pulled their veils down over their faces and descended from the cab Kitty was heartened to see that the people making their way up the stairs to the meeting room looked most respectable. It was, after all, early evening, she told herself. They would be safely back in Cavendish Square before the long summer’s day had drawn to a close.

***

Kitty would have preferred to slip on to one of the benches at the back of the room but Ann had spotted empty chairs much nearer to the dais where the speaker would be standing and was already making her way towards them, so Kitty had no alternative but to follow. At the front of the room a tall gentleman with a shock of red hair was opening up a large trunk in the centre of the dais and she heard someone address him as Mr Clarkson. Kitty regarded him with interest, for she had read a great deal about the fiery speaker who travelled all over the country promoting the abolition movement with evangelical zeal. He was very pale and there were dark circles beneath his eyes: she suspected he was worn down by the arduous task he had set himself.

‘Oh, goodness,’ hissed Ann suddenly. ‘Look who has walked in! You see how wise we were to disguise ourselves.’

Kitty turned to see Daniel Blackwood striding towards the front of the room. As he approached, Mr Clarkson looked up and greeted him with every appearance of delight.

‘Well, of all people I did not expect to see Mr Blackwood here,’ Ann whispered. ‘Bertram told me he is connected to one of the foremost shipping families in Liverpool, and they derive a great part of their fortune from slaves, you know. However, he does seem to be on the best of terms with our speaker.’

There was no opportunity for Kitty to reply because at that moment a large bewhiskered gentleman banged on the table to bring the meeting to order. From behind the safety of her veil Kitty allowed her eyes to follow Daniel as he retreated to a chair at one side of the room. The audience hushed as Mr Clarkson began to address the crowd.

Kitty had not known what to expect from the meeting: she had read in the newspapers about the Abolition meetings held in Manchester and Leeds, but when Mr Clarkson began to explain about the horrific conditions endured by the slaves during their long sea voyage from Africa to the West Indies she found her indignation growing, and when he reached into the trunk and took out the thumbscrews, shackles and branding irons that he had collected during his investigations into the cruelty of the trade, she felt physically sick. Kitty was not alone in her sentiments: murmurs of outrage ran around the room during the meeting and she heard cries of anguish from some of the other ladies present. She was so incensed that when the meeting ended she ignored Ann’s whispered protests and joined the queue of people waiting to sign their name to a petition that would be presented to Parliament.

‘What is the point in our coming here so secretly if you are going to declare yourself?’ demanded Ann, standing beside her.

‘I do not think my name will stand out amongst the hundreds already written on the paper,’ she replied as she took up the pen. ‘Besides, I want to show that I am opposed to such cruel practices. My father certainly would have approved of my actions. There … it is done.’

Ann grasped her arm. ‘Very well, now let us get out of here before we are discovered.’

They were forced to walk in line between the rows of empty chairs that stood between them and the door. Ann led the way and Kitty followed, head bowed, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly she realised that her friend had stopped and she looked up to find Daniel Blackwood blocking their way. He towered over them, unsmiling, as he inclined his head.

‘Miss Harworth, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘M-Mr Blackwood, what a pleasant surprise!’ replied Ann, quick to recover her composure. ‘If we had known you were coming here—’

He interrupted her, saying drily, ‘You would not ask me to believe that Lord Harworth knows you are here unattended.’

‘Well, no,’ confessed Ann, while Kitty stood silently behind her. ‘However, we were determined to come, and it is such a worthy cause!’

‘It is, of course,’ he responded gravely. ‘But you will notice that all the other ladies here are accompanied by a gentleman. If you will give me a moment, I shall escort you home.’

His tone brooked no argument and he went off to take his leave of Thomas Clarkson. Ann turned to Kitty.

‘Well, it was unfortunate that he recognised us, but I think we may yet persuade him not to give us away.’ She added philosophically, ‘And if Mama does learn of our coming here, at least she will be comforted to know that we had Mr Blackwood’s escort.’

By the time they left the meeting room the crowd had disappeared and it was a matter of moments to find a cab to take them back to Cavendish Square. They were still settling themselves into the worn leather seats when Ann threw back her veil and demanded to be told how Mr Blackwood had recognised them.

‘I made sure with our cloaks and veils no one would know us,’ she added.

‘As a guest in your house you should expect me to recognise your maid, Miss Harworth,’ he replied with the glimmer of a smile. ‘And since I was in the room when you asked your brother to send the carriage for Miss Wythenshawe, I deduced that she was your companion.’

Kitty put up her veil: there seemed little point now in disguise.

‘And did Lord Harworth know that you were attending the meeting this evening, Mr Blackwood?’ she asked him.

Daniel’s dark brows went up.

‘I had made no firm plans before Lord Harworth went out this evening so no, he did not. But even if I had told him it would make no odds; Lord Harworth is not my guardian, after all.’

‘No, but there will be no need to tell him you saw us, will there, sir?’ said Ann, giving him a coaxing smile. ‘After all, no harm has been done.’

‘No harm this time, but such meetings can turn ugly. We were fortunate that the slave-traders did not send in a mob to break up the meeting, as I have heard they are wont to do. But in any case I would never advise you to travel into the City unescorted, Miss Harworth. These streets can be very dangerous: there is more to be lost than your reputations, you know.’

Kitty knew he was speaking the truth. They had been foolish to take such a risk. With her impeccable lineage and large fortune, Ann might be regarded as high-spirited or eccentric if their escapade was made public. For Kitty, however, the consequences could be disastrous. As her godmother constantly reminded her, if she wished to make a good marriage she would need to protect her reputation.

At that moment Daniel’s gaze shifted to her face. The harsh features relaxed slightly and again Kitty saw the smile lurking in his eyes.

‘I will not lie, Miss Harworth, but I shall not say anything about this evening, unless I am taxed directly.’

‘Oh, thank you, sir! Kitty, are we not greatly indebted to Mr Blackwood? And you must be sure to accompany us on our picnic, sir. I shall insist that Bertram brings you along. We shall be as merry as grigs!’

Perhaps it was because her own mind was still struggling over the plight of the slaves that Kitty thought she saw a shadow cross Daniel’s face when Ann spoke with such frivolity. Ann was chattering on about her plans for the forthcoming picnic, but when she drew a breath Kitty said quickly, ‘May I ask how you know Mr Clarkson, sir?’

‘Cambridge,’ said Daniel. ‘We were there together when he won the Latin Essay contest.’

‘And were you both concerned for the plight of the slaves then?’ asked Ann.

Daniel shook his head.

‘I doubt if either of us gave it a thought at that time. Clarkson started looking into the subject of slavery to write his essay.’ He shrugged. ‘We were not close friends: when we left Cambridge, I went back to Yorkshire to join my father running the family business. But it seems that Clarkson could not forget what he had learned about the slave trade. Instead of going around the world as he had intended he came to London and has been working with the Society for the Abolition of the Slave Trade ever since, travelling the country setting up sub-committees and organising petitions. I have followed his career from the reports I have read, but have not seen him for years. Then I heard of the meeting this evening, and as I was not engaged elsewhere I thought I would look in.’

‘But does not the Abolition run contrary to your own family interests, sir?’ asked Kitty. ‘I understand you have connections with shipping.’

‘Not at all,’ he replied coolly. ‘My concern is manufacturing. It is true the cost of cotton may rise if slavery is abolished, but we will weather that storm, I am sure. Those members of the family more closely connected with the slave trade must look to their own consciences.’

‘Let us pray that they do, sir.’

Kitty’s earnest response brought his hard eyes upon her.

‘And what is your interest in this matter, Miss Wythenshawe?’

She met his gaze without flinching.

‘Hardship and suffering such as we have heard about tonight should be the interest of every Christian, Mr Blackwood!’

‘It should be, Miss Wythenshawe,’ he agreed, ‘but so many prefer to turn a blind eye and enjoy a life of ease and enjoyment.’

She bristled at that.

‘My father was a great supporter of the Abolition. He died when I was a child but I hope I have not lost sight of his principles.’

‘Well, I will insist we no longer purchase sugar from the West Indies,’ declared Ann. ‘I shall tell Aunt Leaconham to do the same. Only … what of my sorbets and sweetmeats?’ She looked up at Daniel. ‘Oh, dear, shall I be obliged to give them up completely?’

Her look of dismay was so comical that both Daniel and Kitty laughed.

‘There are other sources of sugar, Miss Harworth,’ Daniel told her, ‘but they may not be quite so plentiful, or so cheap. You may still have your sorbets and sweetmeats, but fewer of them.’

***

It was agreed they should take Kitty to Portman Square before Daniel escorted Ann and her maid back to Harworth House.

‘There is no point in your coming back with me just to go home again,’ reasoned Ann.

The carriage rolled up to the door of Lady Leaconham’s house and Daniel jumped down, ready to hand Kitty out of the carriage.

‘Now remember, Kitty, tell no one where we have been tonight!’ Ann warned her, but Kitty hardly heard the words. She was very conscious of her hand lying snug in Daniel’s strong grip as he helped her to alight and she was not a little alarmed at the effect his proximity was having upon her breathing.

‘Well, Miss Wythenshawe, will your conscience allow you to lie?’

She saw the gleam of amusement in his eyes. There was no animosity there, no attempt to belittle her. She ventured a small smile.

‘I shall do my best to avoid the subject.’ She added, as he had done, ‘Unless I am taxed directly!’

He executed a little bow and squeezed her fingers. Kitty dropped a curtsy. Peeping up at him, she found he was smiling down at her and she was unable to tear her eyes away. She wanted to speak, but words would not come to her. The breath caught in her throat: some silent message was passing between them. She could not comprehend it, but it left her excited, exhilarated and frightened, all at the same time. Her pulse was galloping, thudding through her body. Did he feel it, too?

‘Kitty, make sure you tell Aunt Leaconham to look out for Mama’s letter, inviting you both to our picnic.’ Ann’s voice from the carriage recalled Kitty’s wandering senses. With a final, tremulous smile she pulled her fingers free and hurried indoors, hoping the servants would not notice her burning cheeks.

Daniel climbed back into the carriage. He was only dimly aware of Ann chattering away to her maid in the corner. In his mind he was going over again the recent exchange with Kitty. So there was another side to the proud and disdainful Miss Wythenshawe. She appeared to be deeply affected by what she had heard at the meeting. Not that there was anything so unusual there, for Clarkson was a great orator and could soften the hardest heart, but what she had told him of her father hinted at deep-seated liberal opinions, something he had not even guessed at.

There had also been a moment of shared humour. Daniel flexed his fingers, feeling again the shock of excitement he had experienced when he had taken her hand. His reaction unsettled him, the more so because it was very rare for him not to be fully in control of any situation. Silently he stared out of the window: he was intrigued to learn more of Miss Kitty Wythenshawe.

Chapter Four

Two days later Lady Harworth’s letter was delivered to Portman Square, inviting Lady Leaconham and her goddaughter to join her picnic party at Wormley.

‘Well, this is excellent,’ she told Kitty as she perused the note with a smile of satisfaction. ‘My dear Clara has never invited me to one of her al fresco parties before, even though we are sisters!’

Lady Leaconham’s pleasure at the forthcoming trip was somewhat dimmed when she discovered that her son had no intention of accompanying them. Lord Leaconham was dining at Portman Square when his mother mentioned the forthcoming picnic.

‘Devil a bit, Mama,’ protested Garston, looking pained. ‘I’m engaged to join a party of friends for a beefsteak dinner at Chipping Barnet.’

‘But surely, escorting Kitty and myself to Wormley Hall should take precedence? Lady Harworth’s hospitality will not be stinting, I am sure.’

Lord Leaconham pulled a face.

‘Perhaps not, but she will not be serving beefsteak and oysters, now will she? And I can’t say I want to wander about the gardens all day before dining alfresco on cold meats, Mama. Not my style at all.’

Regarding Lord Leaconham’s substantial figure, Kitty considered that wandering around a garden might be more beneficial to the young man than sitting indoors drinking porter and eating beefsteak, but she held her peace.

However, Lady Leaconham was not to be put off. She continued to refer to the picnic throughout the evening.

‘But my love, surely you do not want your mama driving out of town without a gentleman’s escort? Why, it is not done.’ Lady Leaconham resorted to her finest weapon, her handkerchief. She flicked it out and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I should never be allowed to travel unescorted if your father was alive.’

‘Very well, I will tell you what I shall do,’ said Garston, exasperated. ‘I will come with you as far as Barnet—it is on the way, after all.’

‘On the way?’ retorted my lady, in a far from lachrymose tone. ‘What nonsense is this? We will be taking the Cambridge road!’

‘Well, if you take the Great North Road instead you could drop me at the Rising Sun. After that it would not take you long to cross Enfield Chase to pick up the Kentish Lane. There, what do you say to that?’

It was not ideal; Lady Leaconham would much have preferred to have her son’s company for the whole day, but he was not to be moved so she had to be satisfied.

‘After all,’ she said to Kitty once Garston had left them, ‘my son is a dear, dear boy but he is so very much like his father: not stubborn exactly, but a man of fixed views, and once he has made up his mind, there is no changing it.’

***

Kitty did not see Ann again before the picnic, and since she heard nothing more about their outing to Lombard Street she hoped their attendance at the Abolition meeting had gone unnoticed. Although she was relieved at this, Kitty was nevertheless anxious to support the cause, but apart from persuading her godmother to refrain from buying sugar imported from the slave plantations there was little she could do as a single young lady. Judicious enquiries of her godmother elicited the information that the Leaconham fortune came from estates in England and Ireland and although an earlier Lord Leaconham had dabbled in investments in the West Indies these had not been a success and the link had been broken. A suggestion to Lord Leaconham that he should raise the matter in the House brought the daunting response that he had not yet taken his seat, being far too busy. However, the subject raised a dilemma for Kitty and when she next sat down to write to her mother she voiced her concern that since so many of the families in Town had connections with the slave trade she could not, as Papa’s Daughter, consider an alliance with any of them. Not that she had as yet received any offers, she hurried to point out. Her mother’s response was typically pragmatic: much as she applauded her daughter’s liberal views, Kitty must do and say nothing to discourage any advantageous offer, but to remember that as the wife of a rich man she would be much better placed to influence both her husband and the debate.

Lady Leaconham said much the same thing and, while she agreed that they would no longer use cane sugar from the West Indies, she begged Kitty not to voice her opinions in public.

‘It is a very worthy cause, I am sure, and I have read that Mr Wilberforce is very eloquent on the subject, but it is not something to be discussed in my drawing room.’

‘I beg your pardon, Godmama,’ replied Kitty, anger bringing a warm flush to her cheek, ‘but it should be discussed in every drawing room!’

‘Well, perhaps when you are with your close friends,’ conceded Lady Leaconham, ‘but it makes people uncomfortable to think about it, and that will make them shy away from you. My dear, the reason for you being here is to find you a husband, and we shall not do that if you do not conform. And while we are talking of such things, perhaps I should just drop you a word of warning.’ Lady Leaconham began to fidget and pluck at the skirts of her gown. ‘I have been very careful not to be too explicit about your circumstances.’

‘My … circumstances, Godmama?’

‘The fact that you have no fortune, my dear. It is nothing to be ashamed of, and you have such pretty manners that people cannot fail to like you, but we do not want to prejudice anyone against you.’

‘Are you saying that people will not wish to be acquainted with me if they know I am poor?’ said Kitty baldly.

‘My dear, there is no need to be quite so blunt,’ protested Lady Leaconham. ‘All I ask is that you refrain from discouraging eligible gentlemen by being too truthful—about your country upbringing, for example—or expressing your more … liberal views.’

Kitty bit her lip. She very much wanted to say that she did not want a husband if he did not share her opinions, but then she had a vision of poor Mama and Aunt Jane, sitting in their cold little cottage, struggling to set their stitches in the failing light and unable to afford to buy good candles and coal from their meagre income. They had scrimped and saved, forgoing all luxuries to send her to London. The more she thought about it the more she realised that, having spent their savings on this trip, Mama and Aunt Jane were now in a very perilous position, for if they could no longer make a living from their sewing then they would have nothing at all to live on. Fearful visions of them being thrown onto the streets began to haunt her. She must not let them down. Kitty fought down a sigh: her resolution to marry well had not seemed quite so problematic when she had been in Yorkshire.

Kitty saw that Lady Leaconham was regarding her anxiously and she gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Very well, Godmama, I promise you I shall try to avoid saying anything that would make you uncomfortable. I will do my best to do my duty.’

Lady Leaconham gave a very audible sigh. She smiled and patted Kitty’s cheek.

‘There. I knew you were a good girl! Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you that your new walking dress has arrived.’

‘Another dress? Oh, ma’am, you are spoiling me!’

‘Nonsense. We were agreed that you should have a new one, were we not? After all, you walk out every morning when you take Titan for his exercise.’

Kitty laughed.

‘No one sees me at that time in the morning, Godmama!’

‘Nevertheless you cannot have too many walking dresses. And when I was with Madame Sophie last week I saw the most beautiful sprigged muslin that I knew would look lovely on you. It is for our picnic tomorrow. I want you to look your best for Lord Harworth.’

‘But I am sure Lord Harworth has no interest in me, except as his sister’s friend.’

‘Perhaps not, but there is no harm in your looking your best for the picnic,’ responded Lady Leaconham. ‘And since you will be together for most of the day tomorrow, it would do no harm to make yourself agreeable to him, now would it? After all, he is by far the most eligible bachelor we know, and even if he is only a baron think how happy your mama would be if you were to become Lady Harworth!’

With her godmother’s words ringing in her ears, Kitty rose the next day and made her preparations for the picnic. She dressed carefully in the new gown of pale primrose, its bodice embroidered with tiny flowers in a deeper lemon, and she allowed Meakin to style her hair so that her glossy dark curls would peep out beneath the shady brim of her villager straw hat. When a servant scratched upon the door to tell her Lord Leaconham had arrived and that Lady Leaconham was waiting for her in the morning room, she took a final look in the mirror, picked up her parasol and hurried downstairs.

‘My dear, you look charmingly,’ smiled Lady Leaconham as she entered the morning room. ‘Well, Garston, what do you think of my protégé now?’

‘By Jove, Mama, she’s a veritable diamond!’ declared Lord Leaconham. ‘Been thinkin’ so for a while now.’ He raised his quizzing glass to stare at Kitty, who wished she had draped a neckerchief around the low neckline of her gown.

‘Yes, well I am hoping we can fix Lord Harworth’s interest,’ put in Lady Leaconham, adding pointedly, ‘It is not so important for him to find a rich wife.’

‘Dash it, Mama, he is not that much wealthier than me!’ muttered Garston but his mother was not listening.

She swept up, put her arm through Kitty’s and carried her towards the door. ‘The carriage is here—shall we go?’

In recognition of the sunny weather, Lady Leaconham had elected to travel in the open landau, and once the busy streets were left behind Kitty had to admit that it was very pleasant to be bowling along with the sun shining down upon them. There was just enough breeze to make it necessary for her to pull her Norwich shawl about her shoulders, which had the added advantage of screening her décolletage from Lord Leaconham’s admiring gaze. She was not sorry when at last they reached the steep hill leading to Chipping Barnet, where they were to part company with the young lord and she had the impression that her godmother, too, was relieved he was not now accompanying them further. Lady Leaconham had taken the precaution of hiring outriders, two liveried servants on horseback who would accompany them to Wormley and as they drove away from Barnet she now declared herself perfectly satisfied with their escort.

‘And who knows,’ she ended with a hopeful little smile, ‘you are looking so pretty today, my dear Kitty, that Lord Harworth might decide to accompany us on our homeward journey!’

Kitty said nothing. She could not recall Lord Harworth paying her any particular attention, and she hoped for nothing more from the day than a pleasant time spent in congenial company. The image of Daniel Blackwood flashed into her mind and in an unguarded moment she hoped he would be there. She quickly stifled the thought: she had come to London to find and marry a gentleman, not a blunt Yorkshire manufacturer!

Wormley Hall was a beautiful old manor house set in large grounds that had been landscaped some fifty years ago. The trees had matured, the gravel paths and artificial lakes were somewhat overgrown and the whole now possessed the beautiful, slightly neglected air that was fashionably romantic. Several carriages were drawn up on the drive when they arrived and it was not long before Kitty was being introduced to Lady Harworth’s guests, those considered worthy of sharing the treat of an alfresco dinner. Several young people were present and Ann soon carried Kitty away to join them.

‘I am so glad you could come,’ she declared, linking arms with Kitty. ‘I do so love to eat out of doors. We are going to dine down there.’ She waved her arm in the direction of the lake, where a dozen or so servants were following a lumbering wagon to the far bank. ‘But before we walk there Mama wants to show everyone the formal gardens.’ Ann giggled, then lowered her voice. ‘Mr Grant has written an ode that he is going to read to us.’

Kitty followed her glance towards a very thin young man with a mop of brown hair. He was even now poring over a notebook.

‘Do not expect too much, Miss Wythenshawe,’ laughed another member of the party, a stocky young man with a florid complexion. ‘Julian’s poems are never very good.’

‘Y-you w-will eat your w-w-w-words one day, Ashley,’ retorted Mr Grant, pushing his hair out of his eyes. ‘Just w-w-wait until my work is published!’

Laughing and chattering, the group of young people followed their elders round the house to the south front, where the formal gardens stretched before them. They gathered round while young Mr Grant read them his ‘Ode to a Fallen Rose’ and applauded politely, then Lady Harworth conducted them around the gardens, pointing out the new plants and marble statues that had recently been introduced.

‘I wonder that you will take so much time over these gardens, Mama, when you never stay here,’ said Ann, smothering a yawn.

‘One never knows what might happen,’ replied Lady Harworth, leading them back towards the house. ‘I am minded to live here, should Bertram take a wife.’

Lady Leaconham was looking about her anxiously. She waited for Ann to come up to her and said casually, ‘Ann, dear, is your brother not joining us today?’

‘Oh, Bertram is around somewhere … yes, here he is now.’

Kitty found herself smiling at her godmother’s look of relief when Lord Harworth emerged from the house, Mr Blackwood walking beside him.

‘My apologies that I was not here to greet you, ma’am,’ said Lord Harworth, bowing over his aunt’s hand. ‘Blackwood and I were looking at the new range we have installed in the kitchen—the latest thing, you know, enclosed firebox, bigger hot-water tank …’

‘Oh, Bertram, our guests are not interested in that,’ protested Ann.

‘Not yet, perhaps,’ put in Daniel. ‘It may not be so necessary on a warm day like today, but imagine yourself coming in after a day’s hunting, muddy and dirty and wanting a bath before going down to dinner. By keeping a small fire in the range there will always be hot water for you.’

He was smiling directly at Kitty, who found herself wanting to smile back until Lady Harworth’s voice cut across the moment.

‘Very interesting to you, I am sure, Mr Blackwood, since you understand these things and are always talking to my son about spinning jennies and water frames, but I do not think our guests wish to concern themselves with the domestic arrangements of the house, what do you say, Miss Wythenshawe?’

Everyone’s attention turned to Kitty. Her godmother was watching her and she read the appeal in her eyes—she must not appear provincial. She thought of her mother and her aunt in their cottage in Fallridge, cooking on the little hob-grate with only a maidservant to help them.

‘You must excuse me,’ she said quietly, ‘I know nothing of cooks and kitchens.’

‘That is not to say she is not an excellent housekeeper,’ Lady Leaconham rushed in, giving a nervous laugh. ‘But I doubt my goddaughter has ever had the need to venture into a kitchen. Am I correct, Kitty?’

‘No, I have not.’

‘Then Miss Wythenshawe is very fortunate,’ murmured Daniel.

His smile had disappeared and Kitty wanted to protest, to explain that it was not because she had an army of servants at her beck and call that she had never entered the kitchen of a grand house, but Lord Harworth was turning towards her, offering her his arm.

‘I think we should be making our way to the lake. May I escort you, Miss Wythenshawe?’

Kitty did not need the little nudge in the back from Lady Leaconham to remind her of her duty, but she did try to smile a little more warmly at Lord Harworth as she tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm and walked off. She would not think of Daniel and his black looks, nor the fact that when she had put her hand on Daniel’s arm at the recent ball she had felt a little buzz of excitement run through her body. She could remember even now the feel of the hard sinews beneath his sleeve, the coiled energy of the man in the solid muscle. Lord Harworth’s arm merely felt … solid.

The party making its way around the lake to the picnic site was a very jolly one, with plenty of chatter and laughter and Kitty did her best to join in, responding in kind to her escort’s jovial remarks. She tried not to think of Daniel, who was following some way behind. When they reached the designated dining area Lord Harworth excused himself and rushed off to instruct the servants on the placing of the remaining tables and Kitty was left to wait for the others to come up. Daniel and Ann were the first to arrive and as they approached she was somewhat surprised to hear Ann alluding to the Abolition meeting.

‘Kitty has successfully persuaded my aunt to give up plantation sugar, but I have not been able to help at all,’ Ann was saying to Daniel. ‘Bertram has investments in the West Indies, you see, so it is impossible for us to purchase our sugar elsewhere. And as Bertram says, if we all stop buying sugar then the poor plantation workers will starve, and what good will that do?’

‘It might force change,’ Daniel replied, but Ann was not listening.

‘Besides, if you consider what we use in one household,’ she continued reflectively, ‘it is not so very much, after all, so what good would our little protest do?’ She smiled at Kitty. ‘We would be inconveniencing ourselves to very little effect, do you not agree?’

Kitty hesitated; her godmother’s warning was still fresh in her mind.

‘I think, if there were enough little protests, they might have a profound effect,’ she replied carefully. She excused herself and moved away, determined not to be drawn into the argument, but not before she heard Daniel’s comment.

‘Miss Wythenshawe does not appear quite so eager to support the movement now. Perhaps her enthusiasm has waned since the meeting.’

‘We were all moved by Mr Clarkson’s talk that evening,’ replied Ann. ‘But when the heat of the moment is passed then rational thought returns. I tried to dissuade her from signing the petition, but she was adamant she would do it …’

Kitty heard no more. She moved away quickly to join her godmother, who was being invited by Lord Harworth to sit at his table. It would do no good to assure Ann that she was as passionate as ever about the evils of slavery, and such a public declaration could only upset her godmother, so she tried to put the conversation out of her mind and concentrate upon the picnic.

The sun continued to shine and the party was in excellent spirits as the footmen served them with a delicious assortment of dishes, most impressive of which were the sorbets and chilled lemonade brought down from the house in a wagon full of ice.

‘Oh, this is delightful,’ cried Ann. ‘I do hope the fine weather holds a little longer. Perhaps we could dine out of doors for my birthday, Mama.’

‘And where would you suggest we do that, miss?’ retorted her mother. ‘The terrace is not wide enough and Harworth will not allow you to trample all over his flowerbeds.’

‘No, indeed,’ chuckled Lord Harworth. He turned to Kitty. ‘You must know, Miss Wythenshawe—indeed, I am sure Ann has told you, such good friends as you have become!—that my sister has persuaded me to hold a little dance for her birthday before we go north for the summer. I hope you will be able to come?’

‘Oh, I—um—’

‘Of course we shall, Bertram dear.’ Lady Leaconham smiled. ‘And I am sure Leaconham will come, too.’

‘But why is my nephew not here today?’ demanded Lady Harworth. ‘I made sure my invitation included him.’

‘He is engaged to join a party of friends today, at Barnet,’ explained Lady Leaconham, helping herself to another dish of sorbet.

‘Barnet,’ cried Lord Harworth. ‘Ah, that will be at the Rising Sun, no doubt. They are famous for their dinners.’

‘That is correct,’ affirmed Lady Leaconham. ‘We shall drive back that way and collect him on our return to Town.’

‘I hope he has a good head then,’ laughed Mr Ashley, sitting at a nearby table. ‘I believe the wine and brandy flow pretty freely at those affairs!’

‘Not sure I’d want my m-mother to see me after such a meal!’ remarked Julian Grant.

‘Heaven forbid,’ muttered Mr Ashley. ‘It might give you inspiration for another of your dreadful odes!’

Lady Leaconham was busy conversing with her sister and Kitty was thankful she did not hear this interchange.

‘Tell me, Miss Wythenshawe …’ Lord Harworth turned to address her’ … how does this compare with your life in the north?’

‘It is very … different, my lord,’ she replied.

‘A little warmer, I don’t doubt,’ he chuckled. ‘My mother always bemoans the fact that when we are at Kirkleigh the weather is rarely conducive to dining out of doors. So how do you amuse yourself at home? Balls, assemblies.’

Kitty was at a loss to know how to reply and was thankful when her godmother came to her aid.

‘My dear Kitty has lived very retired, my lord. Her mother is a widow now, of course, but Mr Wythenshawe was a man of very strict principles. Not,’ she added hastily, ‘that he had any objection to parties, but only in select company.’

‘And are you well acquainted with Mr Blackwood’s family?’ enquired Ann.

‘Not at all,’ Kitty replied hastily.

‘Oh?’ Ann looked up, surprised. ‘But when we met him in Oxford Street you said—’

‘Yes, but we do not move in the same circles.’

Kitty hoped in vain that her words had not carried across the table to Daniel. She saw his dark frown descend.

‘I told you, my lord,’ he said, ‘Miss Wythenshawe is far above my touch.’

The icy words coincided with a small cloud crossing in front of the sun and a sudden, uneasy hush fell over the company. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but Kitty was mortified.

‘No, no, I never meant—’

Her anguished protest was no more than a whisper and it was lost as Lady Harworth rose from the table, signalling the end of the meal. There was a sudden flurry of activity as everyone followed suit and Kitty looked towards Daniel, hoping she might be able to apologise and explain herself, but he was already moving away, giving his arm to a dashing young matron.

‘Miss Wythenshawe?’ Lord Harworth was holding his arm out to her. ‘Shall we walk?’

Silently she put her fingers on his arm, responding mechanically to his remarks while inwardly berating herself. It was so difficult! In trying to please her godmother and conceal her impoverished circumstances she appeared proud and conceited. Suddenly she could restrain herself no longer; she burst out, ‘My lord, when I spoke just now, about my family in the north, I fear I offended Mr Blackwood—’

‘Blackwood, offended?’ exclaimed Lord Harworth. ‘No, no, I am sure he is not. After all there is no denying that he is a manufacturer and while you might bump into him at Harrogate, perhaps, it is not surprising that you have not met him at any of the grander houses. Not but that the situation might change in the future,’ he added and when Kitty looked an enquiry he tapped his nose. ‘Meetings in Whitehall, m’dear! Can’t say more, but let us just say that I am not averse to furthering my acquaintance with the Blackwood family.

‘Now, Miss Wythenshawe, if we take this path you will find we have a very good view of the house across the lake … well, what do you think of that? Magnificent, eh?’

Kitty duly admired the view, but even while she was conversing with her escort she was thinking of Daniel. She must talk to him. Despite their past differences and the fact that he had treated her abominably, her conscience would not allow her to rest until she had explained herself. However, Lord Harworth and his guests were in no hurry to conclude their rambles through the woods and it was a good hour before the party gathered again at the house and carriages were summoned. Kitty spotted Daniel standing by himself and resolutely made her way across to him, steeling herself for her apology. She needed all her nerve to keep going, for the look he bestowed upon her when he saw her approaching was not at all encouraging. Kitty squared her shoulders, bracing herself to meet his harsh stare.

‘Mr Blackwood, if I may have a word with you.’ He regarded her with eyes as hard as stone. She took a breath. ‘I w-wanted to beg your pardon. I think my words earlier might have been misconstrued.’

‘Oh, I understood you perfectly, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘No! I never meant to imply that my family was above yours,’ she told him earnestly. ‘I know nothing of your circumstances.’

‘That much is very true!’

‘And you know nothing about me!’ she retorted. ‘I am sorry for it if I appear to you to be bent upon nothing but pleasure.’

His lip curled.

‘Why should you be any different from all the other fashionable young females in Town? And do not think that your attendance at Clarkson’s meeting gives you any reason to feel especially self-righteous: I am well aware that it is currently a fashionable cause.’

Kitty’s cheeks flamed. She said angrily, ‘Not for me!’

She saw the disbelief in his eyes and was surprised at how much his contempt stung her. She hated arguments and wanted desperately to turn and walk away: after all, what did it matter what he thought of her? But she found it did matter. She forced herself to speak.

‘My father died ten years ago, Mr Blackwood, when I was but a child, yet I remember his liberal views, and his correspondence with like-minded acquaintances on the subject of slavery. A number of pamphlets on the subject remain amongst my father’s papers. I have always considered the plight of those less fortunate than ourselves to be of the utmost concern.’

Kitty held her ground, steadily meeting his dark, unfathomable gaze. At last he said coldly, ‘Then perhaps you should be committing your energies to the cause of abolition, madam, rather than looking out for a rich husband!’

Daniel turned on his heel and strode away. Hell and damnation, could he never meet the woman without quarrelling? She had come to him to apologise for her ill-chosen remarks. He should have received her apology with a dignified silence. After all, he was used to being snubbed by those who considered themselves to be his superiors, regardless of the fact that they had little to their name except a title. Their ancient houses were for the most part crumbling and impoverished. He had thought himself above such considerations, proud of his heritage, knowing that his father had earned his money with honest toil and now held the welfare of hundreds, if not thousands, in his hands: spinners, weavers, carders, combers and silverers—the list of those involved in the manufacture of cloth was endless. As he himself became more involved then the responsibility fell upon his shoulders, too.

He strode through the ornamental gardens and on around the side of the house, and as he worked off his anger in exertion, he found himself considering the situation more rationally. He stopped, his head coming up as the realisation hit him. It was not Miss Wythenshawe’s comments that had angered him, but seeing her hanging on Harworth’s arm. By God, he was jealous!

Daniel began to walk again, more slowly this time, while he tried to understand this new emotion. Damnation, Miss Katherine Wythenshawe had got under his skin. She was nothing like the ripe beauties who had caught his eye when he had first come to Town, women with whom it was possible to pass an enjoyable hour or so, but who were then so easy to forget. No. Katherine—Kitty—was proud, self-opinionated and extremely annoying, but one could not forget her!

He had reached the stable block by this time. Through the arch he could see the yard was full of activity as the teams of horses were brought out from the stables and harnessed to the respective carriages, each one under the watchful eye of the coachman. It had been agreed that Daniel would accompany Lord Harworth and his party back to Town later, when the rest of the guests had departed, so he saw no reason to add to the workload of the grooms by demanding his horse should be saddled up immediately. He perched himself on a mounting block just outside the entrance to the yard, intending to regain his composure in this shady spot before rejoining the main party. The noise from the stables spilled out of the yard and the clatter of hooves echoing under the arch told him that the first of the carriages was about to leave. He turned to watch Lady Leaconham’s coachman overseeing the stable boys as they pulled up and secured the hoods of the landau, while the two outriders stood to one side, drawing on their gloves. None of them noticed Daniel, sitting still and silent in the shadow of the wall.

‘So we’re to pick up his lordship at the Rising Sun,’ said one of the outriders.

The other gave a short laugh.

‘That’s what ‘er ladyship thinks.’ He turned to spit on the ground. ‘I’d wager he’s caught a fox by now!’

‘The mistress won’t like that,’ growled the coachman. ‘She told him to be ready to come home at six o’clock.’

‘Aye, she might’ve told ‘im but he’ll have been drinking since she set ‘im down. And let’s be honest, his lordship ain’t one to hold his drink well.’

The coachman chuckled.

‘There’ll be fireworks at Barnet, then,’ he said, climbing up onto the box. ‘Come on, lads, mount up, else ‘er ladyship will be after your hides, too!’

Daniel sat back against the wall and watched the carriage drive past him, the two outriders trotting smartly along behind. He remembered the chit’s look of horror when he had climbed into Mr Midgley’s carriage in all his dirt. A grin tugged at his mouth: how much more uncomfortable would she feel making the journey back to Town in the company of the drunken Lord Leaconham!

Chapter Five

The drive back to Chipping Barnet was accomplished in good time, with Lady Leaconham expressing herself highly satisfied with the day.

‘To dine al fresco with the Harworths is an honour not afforded to everyone,’ she told Kitty. ‘And that my nephew should choose to spend so much time with you is very encouraging. I was pleased to see you making yourself so agreeable to him.’

‘I hope I did not seem too forward, Godmama,’ replied Kitty, alarmed. ‘I had no thought other than to be polite. I would not like Lord Harworth to think I was encouraging his advances.’

‘That is exactly what you were doing, you silly puss,’ chuckled Lady Leaconham. ‘I admit when you first came to me I had no thought of aiming so high for you. I had hoped to find you a gentleman of comfortable means, but a baron, and my own nephew at that—well! ‘

She subsided into her corner, engrossed in her own happy thoughts and leaving Kitty prey to much more disturbing reflections. There was no doubt she was enjoying her time in London, although she missed Mama and Aunt Jane. She found the society diverting, but although she knew her mother had sent her to Town in the hope that she would find a husband, the idea of spending more than a day in the company of any of the gentlemen she had met, even Lord Harworth, filled her with dismay. Sadly she had discovered that most of the eligible gentlemen were empty-headed and so full of their own conceit that she found them positively disagreeable after a half-hour’s conversation. Others, like Lord Harworth, were perfectly agreeable but, she was ashamed to admit it, rather dull.

The thought flashed into her mind that Daniel Blackwood was neither dull nor empty-headed. He was infuriating, of course, and arrogant, and outspoken, but one could never accuse him of being boring.

The carriage began to slow and Kitty saw that they had arrived at the Rising Sun. The shadows were already lengthening in the cobbled yard as they drove in. The landlord came bustling out to greet them, grinning broadly and wiping his hands on his apron as he addressed them through the open carriage window.

‘Good day to you, ma’am—and you, miss! ‘Tis very busy here today, but I am sure we can find you a room.’

The man’s genial smile disappeared when Lady Leaconham demanded to see her son.

‘L-Lord Leaconham, m’lady? He’s one of those who came for the beefsteak dinner in the upstairs dining room, I believe. I am afraid they are not yet concluded.’

He cast a glance upwards, where sounds of raucous merriment could be heard coming from an open window on the first floor.

‘Then you will inform him I am here!’ commanded my lady.

‘Aye, ma’am.’ He flicked his head and a young boy scampered away into the inn. ‘Will you not come in and take some refreshment, madam.?’

‘No, I want to collect my son and go home.’

‘Well, ma’am, you see.’ The landlord shifted uncomfortably.

Lady Leaconham waved to him to open the door and she alighted from the carriage, Kitty following close behind her.

‘What is the matter with you—he is here, is he not?’ demanded Lady Leaconham.

‘Aye, he’s here. That is—’

‘Well, let us to him!’

Lady Leaconham swept towards the inn, the landlord hurrying after her, but before they had gone more than a few steps Garston appeared in the doorway, looking flushed and bleary-eyed.

‘Oh, so it is you, m’m.’ He placed one hand on the doorframe to steady himself. ‘Wasn’t expectin’ you yet.’

‘I think you have lost track of the time, my son,’ replied Lady Leaconham. ‘Come along now, fetch your things and let us be off. I want to reach Portman Square well before dark.’

‘Ah, well, that’s the thing,’ replied Garston, enunciating his words with enormous care. ‘Not sure I’m up to travellin’ at the moment.’ He gave his mother a smile of great sweetness. ‘Excuse me, Mama. Rather fancy I’m about to cast up my accounts.’

With that he swung round and vomited at the side of the doorway.

Kitty gasped, while Lady Leaconham remained rooted to the spot, staring at her son. Behind them, one of the outriders gave a short laugh.

‘Told you ‘e wasn’t one to ‘old ‘is drink.’

Lady Leaconham whirled about.

‘How dare you be so impertinent! You are dismissed, both of you!’

‘But, Godmama, we need their escort—’

‘I will not tolerate insolence!’ retorted Lady Leaconham, white with fury. ‘How dare they suggest my son is … is inebriated! Go, I say! You will be gone from my service by the morning—and leave your livery behind you, or I shall have you arrested for robbery!’

In dismay Kitty watched the two outriders clatter out of the yard. Lady Leaconham took a few steps towards Garston, who was still leaning against the wall, groaning. Tentatively she put her hand out to him.

‘Come along, my son, get into the carriage and let us be gone from this place. What were your friends about, could they not see you are unwell? Come, my love, let me help you.’

‘Don’t think … anyone … can.’ muttered Garston.

He turned, leaning his back against the wall as his legs crumpled under him and he slid to the floor, unconscious. Lady Leaconham gave a little scream.

‘Oh, good heavens—oh, my poor boy! Quickly, someone, run and fetch a doctor!’

The landlord stepped forwards, shaking his head.

‘Nay, my lady, I’m sure if we was to get him upstairs and into a bed—’

‘No, no, fetch a doctor! Oh, I shall go distracted,’ cried Lady Leaconham, reaching out to grip Kitty’s arm. ‘Quickly, child, where is my vinaigrette? I fear I am going to faint.’

‘Now that won’t help anyone, madam,’ said a deep, calm voice behind them.

Kitty looked round to see Daniel Blackwood jumping down from his horse.

‘And the landlord’s right,’ he continued bluntly. ‘Leaconham is drunk: best to take him upstairs and let him sleep it off.’ He signalled to the coachman and footman, who ran forward to pick up Garston and carry him inside.

Kitty felt Lady Leaconham sag against her, but even as she struggled to support her, Daniel stepped up to take the matron’s free arm.

‘Come, ma’am,’ he said. ‘Allow us to escort you inside.’

The landlord led them to a small parlour where Kitty and Daniel half-carried Lady Leaconham across the room to a cushioned armchair beside the empty fireplace.

‘Have a bottle of wine brought in,’ ordered Daniel. He glanced at Kitty. ‘Will you look after Lady Leaconham while I go upstairs and see what I can do for her son?’

Kitty nodded and as he strode away she searched in her godmother’s reticule for her smelling salts.

By the time Daniel returned Lady Leaconham had recovered a little and was sipping at a glass of wine.

‘How is Leaconham?’ she asked him anxiously.

‘Sleeping,’ he said shortly. ‘He is unlikely to stir before the morning.’

‘Then perhaps we should go home, Godmama,’ suggested Kitty. ‘There is still time to reach Town before dark.’

‘And leave my son here, alone?’ declared my lady, setting her glass down with a snap. ‘Never. The poor boy has obviously eaten something that disagreed with him. Did he not say he would be dining on oysters? I have no doubt that was it. I make it a rule never to touch shellfish.’

As Daniel opened his mouth to reply Kitty met his eyes and gave a tiny shake of her head. He shrugged.

‘Whatever the cause,’ he said, ‘Lord Leaconham is in no condition to travel today. The inn is very busy.’ Loud voices and a burst of raucous laughter from the room above added weight to his words. He continued, ‘You are best to go home, ma’am. The landlord here can be trusted to look after Leaconham.’

But Lady Leaconham merely shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with the wisp of lace that was her handkerchief.

‘I do not think I could travel another yard tonight,’ she said querulously. ‘Seeing Garston in such distress has completely destroyed my nerves. Kitty, my dear, go and find the landlord. Tell him we need rooms for the night.’

‘But, ma’am, it is not far to Town,’ protested Kitty, ‘I am sure you would be more comfortable in your own bed.’

‘You forget, Katherine my dear,’ said my lady in reproachful tones, ‘that we have no outriders to escort us, and the sun is already setting.’

‘I would be very happy to escort you to Town, madam,’ put in Daniel, stepping forwards.

‘That is very kind of you, Mr Blackwood,’ came the gracious reply, ‘but I cannot contemplate leaving my poor boy here alone. What if he should wake in the night, calling for his mama?’

Kitty saw Daniel’s lips twitch and she said, trying to keep the laughter out of her own voice, ‘My dear ma’am, Garston is five-and-twenty. He has had his own establishment for years now.’

‘That is not the point,’ returned my lady in dignified accents. ‘I am still his mama, and I am the person he needs when he is ill.’

‘He is not ill, ma’am, he is dead drunk!’ retorted Daniel with brutal frankness.

Lady Leaconham gave a little shudder and collapsed back in the chair. Kitty stepped up and took her hands, chafing them gently between her own.

‘Now look what you have done!’ She cast an angry glance towards Daniel. ‘How can you be so unfeeling?’

‘Well, you know I am an insensitive, uncouth, northern fellow!’

‘And you can stop that nonsense this minute,’ she told him crossly. ‘I know very well it is all play-acting designed to annoy me.’

He laughed suddenly.

‘So it is, Miss Wythenshawe. Very well, tell me what I can do to help.’

‘Bespeak rooms for us, if you please, and ask the coachman to stable the horses. If Lady Leaconham is determined to stay, then we must do so, I think.’

He disappeared, coming back a few moments later to inform her that a room was being prepared.

‘I hope you will not object, but they are very busy tonight so I have arranged for you to share a room. I thought you would prefer that to having separate rooms at opposite ends of the building, which is all they have free.’

‘Yes, thank you, sir. That is very satisfactory is it not, Godmama?’ Kitty looked to Lady Leaconham, who was leaning back in her chair, her vinaigrette clutched in one hand.

‘And is my room near my son?’ asked the widow in a faint voice.

‘I am afraid not, but I have directed the landlord to have someone sitting up with him tonight.’ said Daniel. ‘There is a very small chamber available next to Lord Leaconham, so I have taken that for myself. If he wakes in the night and—er—calls for you, ma’am, I will be able to send word.’

Kitty frowned.

‘That is very good of you sir, but I am sure there is no need for you to stay—’

‘Oh, but there is,’ Lady Leaconham interrupted her. ‘Surely you would not expect Mr Blackwood to abandon us in this horrid place when my son is too weak to act as our protector? As for Garston …’ She hesitated, a look of distaste crossing her face. ‘I shall wait until the morning and then if I think it necessary I shall summon a doctor. I am in your debt, Mr Blackwood, and gladly accept your protection for myself and my goddaughter. I am very grateful.’

‘Think nothing of it, my lady. They have tea here, so I have ordered them to send in the Black Bohea, to restore your nerves.’

‘Now that is kind of you, Mr Blackwood,’ murmured Kitty, allowing herself to smile at him for the first time.

‘It is my mother’s remedy for most ills,’ he told her, with the flash of a smile.

The sudden transformation in his dark features momentarily robbed Kitty of her breath, and she was relieved that the maid came in with the tea tray at that moment and she could give her attention to the ritual of making tea for them all.

***

The hour was quite advanced when Lady Leaconham put down her cup and declared she would retire. She struggled to her feet.

‘Kitty my dear, give me your arm. We will ask the landlord to direct us to our bedchamber.’

Daniel opened the door for them.

‘Would you like me to have a little supper sent up to you, my lady?’

Kitty felt her godmother shudder as though even the thought of food made her feel unwell. Daniel observed it, too, and inclined his head.

‘Very well, ma’am, but do not forget that this parlour is at your disposal until the morrow, should you wish to make use of it.’

Murmuring her thanks, Kitty accompanied her godmother to the chamber allocated to them. It was a large room overlooking the street, where Lady Leaconham declared that there was so much noise she would not get a wink of sleep.

‘I have no nightgown,’ she complained tearfully. ‘And no maid. Who is to undress me and look after my clothes? I would not trust them to a common inn servant!’

‘Oh, dear, if we had thought of that earlier we might have sent to Portman Square for Meakin to come here and to bring you a change of clothes,’ said Kitty, dismayed. ‘We are not so very far from home, after all.’ She summoned up a smile. ‘No matter, Godmama, I will look after you. I shall help you out of your gown and you may sleep in your shift.’ She added cheerfully, ‘This is a very respectable inn, ma’am. Look, the sheets are clean and they have even used the warming pan in the bed.’

***

An hour later Lady Leaconham was sleeping peacefully. Kitty had helped her to undress, carefully folding her gown and placing it with her stays, petticoats, shoes and stockings in readiness for the morning. She pinched out the candles and moved the solitary lamp so that the light did not fall directly upon her godmother’s face. However, Kitty herself was reluctant to go to bed. It was not late, the summer twilight was still evident outside the window and she was aware of a gnawing hunger. She would not risk disturbing her godmother by ordering a meal to be sent up to the room, so she decided to go in search of food.

The inn was quieter now, the noisy diners had left or retired to their beds to sleep off their potations and there was no one on the stairs as she made her way down to the ground floor.

She found the little parlour illuminated by candles on the mantelpiece and a branched candlestick on the table, where Daniel was sitting before a mouth-watering array of dishes. He rose as she entered the room.

‘Miss Wythenshawe!’

‘I came in search of supper.’

He pulled up a chair.

‘There is more than sufficient here for the both of us, if you would care to join me. Sit down and I will send for another plate and glass.’

In two strides he was at the door, calling for the waiter. She heard the rumble of voices in the passage before Daniel returned.

‘Our host has promised to lay a cover for you immediately. It should not take more than a few minutes.’

‘I am interrupting your meal.’

‘Not at all,’ he said politely. ‘I have only just begun and will now wait until you can join me. Will you not sit down?’

Kitty moved over to the chair he was holding for her and sat down with a quiet word of thanks. Daniel resumed his own seat and silence filled the room.

At last Kitty said, ‘You have not told us, sir, why you were travelling this way. This is not on your route back to Town.’

He looked down at the table, intent upon straightening his knife and fork.

‘I overheard your coachman talking. It seemed pretty clear that he did not think Leaconham would be fit to travel: I thought you might need assistance.’

The entry of a serving maid caused a diversion and they watched silently while she laid another place at the table. When they were alone again Daniel poured Kitty a glass of wine.

‘Will you take a little of the lamb?’ he asked her. ‘It is very good. You will note I have not ordered the oysters.’

Kitty chuckled.

‘We both know they were not the cause of Lord Leaconham’s malaise.’ She sighed. ‘Poor Garston. Poor Godmama! I doubt she has seen her son in that condition before.’ He made no reply. Kitty put down her glass. ‘I know you think him weak and foolish. After all he knew we were coming back this way to collect him, but have you no compassion at all? No, obviously not.’ She bit her lip, then said with difficulty, ‘I beg your pardon, that is unjust. You have shown great kindness in following us to this place.’

He looked across the table and held her gaze.

‘My opinion of Leaconham is not high. The man may go out and drink himself into oblivion every night for all I care, but to do so knowing that he was needed to escort two ladies back to Town, I find that foolish and irresponsible.’

‘You are right, of course. Which makes it all the more generous of you to look after us.’

‘I am not doing this for Leaconham, nor for your godmother.’

Kitty caught her breath, wondering if she had misunderstood him.

‘I do not deserve that you should be so kind to me,’ she said in a low voice. ‘Every time we meet I am impolite to you.’

The corners of his mouth lifted a fraction.

‘You certainly like to remind me of my place.’

There was a heartbeat’s pause before she spoke again.

‘I made an assumption about you on that first morning we met. I was wrong. I beg your pardon.’

‘And I beg your pardon for reacting as I did,’ he said. ‘Will you cry friends with me now?’

Kitty looked up to respond and found him smiling at her. Once again she was aware of her heart behaving erratically. Like a wild bird in panic, fluttering against its cage. The first time it had happened she had thought it the result of fear and alarm, because she had been trapped in his arms as he carried her through the mud. Here in this candlelit room there was no such danger.

Was there?

‘F-friends?’ she managed to say. ‘Yes, of course.’

She lowered her eyes and fixed her attention upon her plate. Nerves had diminished her appetite, but her companion’s quiet good manners did much to calm her. He wasted no time on small talk, but proved himself a considerate host, serving her himself and encouraging her to partake a little of each dish. She declined the roasted pigeon but managed to eat a little of the lamb and a few French beans, and by the time she had finished her glass of wine she was feeling much more relaxed and able to enjoy a small portion of gooseberry syllabub. She even accepted a small glass of Madeira wine.

‘I hope you do not suspect me of trying to make you drunk?’ said Daniel as he refilled her glass.

‘No. I know you now for a gentleman.’

His brows went up, but at that moment the servant returned to clear the table, and he said merely, ‘Shall we move over to the window? The armchair there will be more comfortable for you.’

Kitty hesitated. She was suddenly aware that she and Daniel were alone, and the chair he indicated was well away from the candles’ golden glow.

‘I should perhaps retire.’

‘Are you weary?’

‘No.’ The blood was singing through her veins. She felt more like dancing than sleeping. ‘No, not at all.’

‘Then sit with me for a while. After all, your godmother has accepted my protection for you both. And you yourself said I was a gentleman.’

The glint of amusement in his eyes as he said this made Kitty laugh and did much to ease the tension. She sank down into the cushioned armchair and sipped at her wine. He carried a chair across from the table and placed it opposite her.

‘I am not at all high in the instep, you know,’ she said as he sat down.

‘You surprise me, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘No, really. Before, I would have mistaken your tone for condemnation but now I know you are teasing me, are you not?’ she looked up a trifle anxiously. ‘I think I have given you a false impression, and … and would like to explain, if I may.’ She wrapped her hands around her glass and braced herself for a confession, thankful for the dim light. ‘You see, I am … not rich.’

She looked up, waiting for his reaction. He said mildly, ‘I am not sure Harworth knows that.’

‘Perhaps he is not aware of my exact circumstances.’ She blushed. ‘Godmama suggested we should not give out such information too freely. I doubt if she would approve of my telling you so much.’

‘You do not need to disclose anything further, Miss Wythenshawe—’

‘But I want to!’ she said quickly. ‘I thought it might help you to understand why, why I acted as I did. Why I was so rude to you when we first met.’

‘Very well. If you wish to talk, I will listen.’

She paused, gathering her thoughts.

‘I was very excited by the thought of coming to London. The gown I was wearing the day we met was a new one. It was my only walking dress. At that time I did not know Lady Leaconham, that she would buy me another gown and positively shower me with gifts and clothes. She is so very, very generous. I was nervous, you see: so eager to make a good impression when I arrived in London that I am afraid I quite forgot my manners on the journey.’ She looked up suddenly and said with spirit, ‘You will admit, sir, that you were extremely dirty!’

‘I cannot deny it. I had spent a night on the moors, in the rain.’ He spoke gravely, no hint of a smile, but she perceived the softening of his look.

‘I thought you very ill mannered, and I was afraid that … contact with you would make my gown dusty.’

His lips twitched.

‘I did much more than that, and I am very sorry for it.’

She waved aside his apology.

‘If I had not been so uncivil to you—! I was puffed up with conceit, as if I had been a very fine lady, which I am not.’ She settled into her chair, determined on a full confession. ‘If you will allow me to explain: Mama is the widow of a gentleman, a very good man, but unfortunately a series of ill-judged investments meant that when he died suddenly, poor Mama was left with almost nothing and we were obliged to live with my aunt in Fallridge.’ She held up her head and added, a hint of defiance in her voice, ‘Mama and Aunt Jane earn a living with their sewing.’

‘Very commendable,’ remarked Daniel.

‘Yes, it is,’ agreed Kitty. ‘Mama used all her savings to ensure that I had an excellent education and that I learned all the accomplishments a young lady might require—dancing, singing, playing the pianoforte. I speak French excellently and know a smattering of Italian—’

He put up his hand to stem this recital.

‘I have not been in Town very long, Miss Wythenshawe, but I know that many young ladies get by with far fewer accomplishments.’

‘Yes, but they have dowries,’ replied Kitty drily. ‘It is much easier to find a husband if one has a fortune.’

Daniel settled himself back in his chair.

‘Is that why you came to London, Miss Wythenshawe, to find a husband?’

‘Yes. Mama taught me how to make my curtsy to a duke or to an earl, to hold my fan just so and how to address everyone, from a duchess to a dairymaid.’ She took another sip of her wine. The sweet nutty flavour of the Madeira was very pleasant and she was beginning to feel a warm glow spreading through her. ‘Everything, you see, to make me fit to marry a lord. It has been my dream since I was a very little girl.’

‘I fear you are aiming at the moon, Miss Wythenshawe.’

She put up her chin.

‘Perhaps, but I have been given this opportunity and I must make the most of it.’

‘Of course.’

A little of her certainty drained away. She said pensively, ‘I am Mama’s only hope, you see. I have to marry well, because I need my future husband to make such settlements that Mama and Aunt Jane will be able to live out the rest of their lives in comfort. Mama said it is very important that I act like a lady, because she is very particular about the sort of husband I should have.’ She saw his brows twitch together and added, ‘I know, it sounds quite ridiculous, but you see, Lord Harworth has been so kind to me that Lady Leaconham is encouraged to think an alliance might be possible and she has written to Mama to say so! And he is her nephew, so she cannot think me too unsuitable, can she?’

‘Is that why you went off into the woods with Harworth this afternoon?’

Kitty nodded.

‘Godmama suggested I should be friendly, and it is not at all difficult, for Lord Harworth is most agreeable. He was most kind, explaining all about the park and the woods at Wormley, and the new planting he wants to do there—’ She broke off as Daniel gave a shout of laughter.

‘Are you telling me that he took you along that secluded path and did nothing but talk of landscaping the gardens? What a cod’s head.’

‘Why, yes, he—’ She broke off, her eyes widening. ‘Do you mean he should have flirted with me?’

‘It’s what any man would do with a pretty girl.’

‘Oh …’ She blushed, momentarily diverted. ‘Do—do you really think I’m pretty?’

His eyes rested on her for a moment, a look in them that she could not interpret.

‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

‘Oh,’ she said again. ‘Well, perhaps he did flirt with me, and I didn’t know it.’ She got up and walked to the window, staring out into the yard, which despite the late hour was still bustling with activity beneath the light of a dozen flaming torches.

‘What did he say to you?’ he asked.

She frowned, trying to remember.

‘I really cannot recall, we merely strolled along the path.’

‘And did he walk very close to you?’ asked Daniel.

Kitty did not need to turn her head to know that Daniel was standing behind her; his body was only inches from her own. She could feel his presence, it made her spine tingle. She kept her eyes fixed firmly on the view from the window and forced herself to stand still.

‘I held his arm,’ she said carefully.

‘But did he at any time stop and direct your attention to the view? Like this, perhaps.’

He rested his hands lightly on her shoulders. His touch was warm on her skin and it took all her willpower not to drop her head to one side and rub her cheek against his fingers. She was so tense she felt as brittle as glass. At any moment she might shatter. She had to struggle to answer him.

‘No, he did not.’

‘Then the man is most decidedly a fool,’ murmured Daniel.

The vibration of his warm, deep voice was carried through his hands and into her bones. Her insides became an aching void, the ache spreading quickly into her thighs. Even her breasts felt taut. She knew she should make some flippant comment, slip out from under his hands and put distance between them, but she was no longer in control. She heard herself saying, ‘Oh, and why is that?’

‘Because from here it is the work of a moment to turn you, like this, and then.’

Gently he pulled her round to face him. Kitty turned, like one in a dream, and obedient to the pressure of his fingers beneath her chin she raised her head and found herself gazing up into his face. She watched the amused glint disappear from his dark eyes. They seemed to blaze, burning into her. The aching void was instantly filled with white-hot fire. Daniel swooped down, enveloping her. He crushed her against him, imprisoning her lips beneath his own, his arms binding her close. She was overwhelmed, confused, as if she was flying, drowning and burning all at the same time. Her knees felt weak, she clung to his coat, and all the while her senses were reeling under the onslaught of his kiss. It was as savage and wild as the Yorkshire moors and it drew from her a shuddering response. When Daniel loosened his hold and raised his head she gave a little cry and threw her arms about his neck, pulling him back to kiss her again.

Daniel found himself locked in a fierce, passionate embrace. Being alone in the candlelight with a beguiling young woman was certainly a temptation, and he had given in to it, but he had intended nothing more than a light kiss. However, when he had pulled her into his arms all conscious thought disappeared and a violent, uncontrollable desire ripped through him. That had surprised him, but what had completely thrown him off balance was that when he had tried to apologise for frightening her, Kitty had pulled him back and shown herself eager for his kisses. He found her inexpert but ardent response more arousing than the practised arts of any courtesan. She was so damned alluring. Dangerously so. He summoned every ounce of his will-power to break away. Gripping her arms, he pushed her gently but firmly back into the chair.

‘Did, did I do something wrong?’ She looked up at him, her eyes troubled.

‘No, sweetheart.’ He dropped to his knees in front of her and gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘I am at fault for taking advantage of you.’ His hands slid down and he caught her fingers. ‘I should never have allowed you to sup alone with me.’ Shouts and the clatter of hooves in the yard made him look up at the unshuttered window. ‘I only hope the stable lads were too busy with their work to notice what was going on in here. Thankfully it is brighter in the yard than in this parlour.’ He glanced back at Kitty, his heart turning over when he saw the anxious look on her face. He said bluntly, ‘I am afraid I may have damaged your reputation, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘Because you kissed me?’

He squeezed her fingers.

‘Just being alone here with me is enough to compromise you.’

She considered this for a moment. He was pleased to see the bemused look had gone and she was more in control of herself.

‘I am sure Lord Leaconham and my godmother will not wish to talk about this evening.’

‘But there is the landlord, and the servants.’

She shrugged.

‘I am not known here, sir, neither are you. Who are they likely to tell?’

‘A few judicious coins in the right hands might secure their silence. Are you willing to trust that no one will find out about our being here together?’

She gave him a little smile.

‘What is the alternative, Mr Blackwood?’

He shrugged.

‘That we marry, I suppose.’

Daniel cursed silently even as the words left his lips. Devil take it, what was he saying? He had surely imbibed more than he had intended tonight! He saw her eyes widen, felt the little hands tremble and a moment later she gently withdrew them from his grasp.

‘Out of the question, sir,’ she said crisply, leaving her chair and walking away from him. ‘Why, we hardly know each other. And I am sure your family has no idea of your marrying a penniless bride.’

Daniel rose to his feet, not knowing if he was more relieved or disappointed at her response. Did she think so little of him that he was not even to be considered as a husband?

‘No, of course not, but neither would they have me compromise a young lady.’

She was standing with her back to him but at this she turned. The lighted candles behind her framed her dark head with a golden halo, but the shadows concealed her expression.

‘Then we must hope word does not get abroad,’ she said quietly. ‘Perhaps you would be good enough to—what is the term?—grease a few palms to ensure it does not. I shall retire now, and in the morning we may behave as if this evening never occurred.’

‘If that is what you want.’

‘It is.’ She added lightly, ‘Have I not told you that I intend to marry a lord?’

She gave him a little curtsy and went out, leaving Daniel staring at the empty space.

Chapter Six

Kitty entered the bedchamber quietly to find Lady Leaconham still sleeping soundly. She undressed quietly and slipped between the sheets, careful not to disturb her godmother.

The noise from the street had died away almost completely but despite this and the lateness of the hour, it was some time before Kitty fell asleep. Her body was still tingling with the excitement of being crushed in Daniel’s arms, her lips still bruised from his kiss. It had been shocking, yes, but she had not been frightened. She had found it fiercely exhilarating. Even now she felt more alive than ever before. She did not want to sleep, she wanted to stay awake and relive that startling, earth-shaking embrace over and over again. The mere thought of it sent an aching excitement shooting through her. She turned on her side and curled up, hugging the feeling to her. She wanted to remember for ever those few short hours spent with Daniel, because they could never be repeated. It was not allowed for respectable young ladies to kiss gentlemen they were not going to marry, and Daniel had no intention of marrying her. He had suggested it, but only because he thought he had compromised her—had he not agreed that his family would not want him to take a penniless bride? And her own family, her mother, Aunt Jane, Godmama—they all expected her to make a very good match. She had been sent to London with the express intention of finding a husband, and she knew that in her mother’s eyes at least, a mill-owner’s son was not an eligible suitor. Kitty sighed and closed her eyes. Images of Daniel Blackwood filled her mind and another delicious tingle ran through her.

Stop this, she told herself fiercely. His actions were not those of a gentleman. No man of honour would have pounced on her in such a savage way. A man of honour, she decided, would have treated her with respect and even if he had been violently in love with her—which Daniel most definitely was not—he would have suppressed his feelings and done nothing more than plant a fervent kiss upon her fingers.

Kitty put her hand to her lips. There had been nothing suppressed about Daniel’s embrace. He was clearly not an honourable gentleman. She had the daunting feeling that no honourable gentleman would ever be so exciting.

Despite the clatter of traffic from the street below their window, Lady Leaconham enjoyed a good night’s sleep, waking refreshed and eager for news of her son. In contrast, Kitty’s spirits were heavy and lethargic but she tried to conceal this as she helped her godmother to dress and then followed her down to the private parlour, where they had been informed that Lord Leaconham was waiting for them.

They found Garston and Daniel seated at the table, which had been laid for breakfast. Although Garston replied breezily to his mother’s anxious enquiries, Kitty thought he looked decidedly pale and drawn. By comparison, Daniel appeared full of vigour and vitality and it was with some trepidation that Kitty took her seat beside him. In the bright light of a summer’s morning the parlour seemed a different world from the cosy, candlelit room she and Daniel has shared, but she was painfully aware of him beside her, his long fingers wrapped around a coffee cup where last night they had been warm on her shoulders. His very presence was like a magnet, tugging at her body. She wanted to lean towards him, to be touching him …

‘Kitty, my love, you are shivering,’ observed Lady Leaconham. ‘Perhaps you should run upstairs and fetch your shawl.’

‘I am quite warm enough, ma’am,’ said Kitty hastily, aware of Daniel’s keen eyes turned towards her. ‘I am a little tired, that is all.’

‘That is no wonder,’ remarked Lady Leaconham, helping herself to a slice of bread and butter. ‘I woke some time before midnight and you were not in your bed.’

Beneath the table Daniel’s knee touched hers and Kitty jumped. Her whole body was a tingling, jangling mass of nerves. She stole a glance at Daniel. He had not looked up but his studied indifference made her wonder if the contact had been accidental. She struggled to concentrate upon her reply to Lady Leaconham.

‘I came downstairs for a little supper, ma’am.’

‘Oh? And what did you eat? After Garston’s experience yesterday I am reluctant to break my fast here, but I cannot think there is any danger in taking a little bread and butter.’ She cast a doubtful glance at her son’s plate, piled with thick slices of ham and cold beef. ‘You certainly seem to have regained your appetite, my love.’

Garston’s mouth was too full to reply but Daniel said coolly, ‘I believe a good breakfast will aid Lord Leaconham’s recovery.’

Garston gave him a rather sheepish look and swallowed hard.

‘Aye, it will indeed,’ he agreed. ‘Just what I need. I shall be well enough to travel back to Town with you today, Mama, never fear.’

‘And I shall ride with you,’ said Daniel. He turned to Kitty. ‘May I pour you a little more coffee, Miss Wythenshawe? And perhaps you would like another bread roll?’

‘Coffee, thank you, but no more to eat.’

‘I hope your … supper did not prevent you from sleeping,’ he remarked as he filled her cup.

Kitty felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.

‘N-no.’ His countenance was impassive but she observed the glint in his dark eyes and added firmly, ‘I slept very well. I know of no reason why I should not do so.’

‘Do you not?’

The blush on Kitty’s cheeks deepened and she could only pray that the others were too intent upon their breakfast to notice her discomfiture. She shot Daniel an angry look.

‘No,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘Nothing worthy of comment at all.’

With a smile, Daniel returned his attention to his breakfast. Was it cruel of him to tease her? Perhaps, but she looked so delightful when she was flustered. The touch of her leg against his had not been deliberate, she was far too respectable for that, but it had taken all his will-power not to react. That brief contact had sent a warm thrill rushing through him, reminding him again of the excitement he had felt when he kissed her. But he must be careful. He picked up his cup. There would be the devil to pay if last night’s little encounter should be discovered. Doubtless he would be expected to marry the chit.

It was a sudden shock to realise that the idea rather appealed to him.

‘Mr Blackwood, you have spilled your coffee!’

Lady Leaconham’s voice recalled his wandering thoughts.

‘I beg your pardon.’ He looked down. The coffee had slopped on to his empty plate. ‘That was very careless of me.’ He shot a quick, apologetic glance at Kitty. ‘Thankfully there is no harm done. This time.’

She met his eyes fleetingly.

‘You must be careful to make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

Her tone was cool but he was certain she was not talking about the spilling of his drink but of that blazing, explosive kiss they had shared last night. They had agreed the matter was best forgotten but after a night’s reflection Daniel found he did not want to forget it. Kitty’s reaction when he had kissed her convinced him that she was not indifferent to him, but could he be wrong? Was it possible that she had put the matter from her mind? He did not think so. He wanted to talk to her but she gave him no opportunity to do so, staying close to her godmother for the remainder of the morning and ignoring him when he tried to hand her into the carriage, turning instead to Leaconham to perform that duty. After that he could only ride beside the carriage, knowing Kitty was only feet away from him.

‘I trust Lord Harworth will not be too put out with you for your absence last night, sir,’ said Lady Leaconham when they arrived at Portman Square and she took her leave of him. Kitty, he noticed, said nothing, merely standing on the doorstep with her eyes downcast.

‘I sent a messenger to him yesterday evening, to explain the situation.’

‘Ah, of course. And I hope you will escort my son to his rooms—’

‘Dash it all, Mama, I ain’t in need of a nursemaid!’ cried Garston, poking his head out of the carriage window. ‘I am perfectly capable of getting myself home. Drive on, Dawkins!’

He dragged his hat from his fair head and waved it towards the coachman. Daniel nodded to Lady Leaconham.

‘You need not worry, ma’am. I’ll see him home safely.’

Then with a nod of his head he turned his horse and rode off. There would be no tête-à-tête with Miss Kitty Wythenshawe today. Perhaps that was for the best, he thought as he rode out of Portman Square, for the very unsettling idea was taking hold of him that where Miss Wythenshawe was concerned, he was standing on the edge of a precipice.

‘Well, there is no doubt about it,’ declared Lady Leaconham, leading the way into the house, ‘Mr Blackwood is much more gentlemanly than I had at first thought. To be sure, he does not smile a great deal or go out of his way to make himself agreeable, but his stopping at the inn to look after Garston, and escorting us home was uncommon kind!’ Her brows drew together. ‘Do you think he has formed a tendre for you, my love?’

‘F-for me?’ said Kitty, forcing a laugh. ‘What an absurd idea! He never speaks to me but to pick a quarrel!’

‘Well, I am relieved to hear it,’ said her godmother. ‘Pleasant Mr Blackwood may be, but he is nothing compared to Lord Harworth. He is in trade and thus not to be considered at this stage. I think we had best concentrate on securing Bertram’s interest in you. Ah, Meakin, there you are.’ She turned to address her maid who was hurrying down the stairs and she continued in a much weaker voice, ‘I need you to help me to my room. What with the anxiety over my son, and being obliged to remain overnight in a common coaching inn, my poor nerves are in shreds.’

She tottered to the stairs and into the arms of her waiting dresser. Realising that her assistance was not required, Kitty made her way to the servants’ hall. She was far too tense to lie down in her room so she decided that she would take Titan for a walk and enjoy a little solitude in which to examine her own reaction to the previous evening.

The memory of Daniel’s kiss kept jumping into her mind, bringing back that weakness in the knees and the feeling of her bones turning to water. She had no experience of being kissed before, and the thought that these sensations occurred every time a young lady allowed herself to be embraced by a gentleman alarmed her. No wonder anxious parents warned their daughters never to be alone with a man. It was also very daunting to think that not only had she allowed Daniel to kiss her, but she had responded in a most unladylike way. Indeed, she could not deny that she had enjoyed the sensation of being in his arms.

For the rest of the day guilt and shame raged within Kitty. She dare not tell anyone of her transgression, but she was determined that nothing like it should ever happen again. She would make sure in future that she was always suitably chaperoned. She would avoid the company of all men and especially, especially Daniel Blackwood!

Lady Leaconham was laid low with her nerves for a few days following the picnic and Kitty was glad of the excuse to remain indoors, even declining an invitation to drive out with Ann Harworth. However, the following week brought no hint that the events at the Rising Sun were known by more than those closely involved and Kitty was encouraged to hope that no one other than she and Daniel knew of their taking supper together.

She had not seen Daniel since that night and was nervous of meeting him again, so when Lady Leaconham informed her that her sister had invited them to the opera she was reluctant to accept.

‘But, my dear, we must go!’ cried Lady Leaconham. ‘It is so near the end of the Season this may well be our last opportunity to visit the theatre. And Lord Harworth has hired a box for us all.’

‘But I thought you were not a lover of opera, Godmama,’ said Kitty, clutching at one last straw.

‘Well, in general I am not, but this is a new working of Dido, and the review in the Herald says that there is to be a procession with an ostrich and an elephant! There, that will be something to see, will it not, my love?’

‘Yes, it will indeed. Do you know who is to be in Lady Harworth’s party, ma’am?’ Kitty asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

‘Well, Ann will be there, naturally.’ Lady Leaconham gave a little chuckle. ‘I have no doubt the two of you will have your heads together as soon as you meet.’

‘And … and will any gentlemen be present?’

Kitty flushed as Lady Leaconham reacted to her question with a knowing smile.

‘My sister does not say but I have no doubt that Lord Harworth will be escorting us. So we must make sure you are looking your best!’

Kitty did not reply. To ask more questions might make her godmother suspicious. She could only hope that Daniel Blackwood was not musical, and would stay away.

Alas for her hopes, when they arrived at the King’s Theatre, Kitty immediately spotted Daniel amongst the crowd. Catching her eye, he smiled at her but she immediately looked away, pretending she had not seen him. Lord Harworth was in good spirits and genially escorted them to the box, where he insisted upon directing his guests to their seats. His sister, however, immediately objected.

‘I will not allow you to monopolise Kitty,’ she cried. ‘We shall sit together, at the front of the box where we may see everything.’

‘And where you may be seen by all your beaux,’ replied her brother, in high good humour. ‘Very well, if that is what you want! Mama, you and my aunt should sit here, where you will have an excellent view of the stage. Blackwood and I will sit behind you. We can stand if we wish to see more.’

With everything arranged, the ladies made themselves comfortable. Kitty knew Daniel was watching her but she avoided his gaze as she disposed her skirts carefully around her. Unfortunately her nervousness made her drop her fan and it was Daniel who immediately stooped to retrieve it. As he leaned over to return it he said quietly, ‘I think you are avoiding me, Miss Wythenshawe.’

She tried to look at him to make her denial, but her eyes stopped at his mouth. She could not help admiring the beautiful, curving lines of his lips, remembering the feel of them pressed against her own. She found herself growing hot at the memory. A sudden fanfare heralded the start of the performance and gave her the excuse to turn her attention to the stage, but she was all too aware of Daniel’s warm breath on her cheek as he murmured, ‘I hope you will oblige me by taking a stroll with me in the interval.’

The idea set Kitty’s pulse racing, and she sat through the first part of the opera hardly taking in anything she was witnessing on the stage. She was conscious of Daniel sitting behind her and she resisted the temptation to turn and look at him. She longed to know if he was enjoying the performance or if he, too, was distracted. The thought that he might be studying her made Kitty feel a little light-headed. Despite her resolution to avoid him, she decided if he repeated his invitation to stroll out in the interval she would accept. After all, what danger could there be in walking together in a crowded foyer?

As soon as the front curtain was lowered a general buzz of conversation and movement ran through the audience. Kitty collected her fan and her reticule, anticipating Daniel’s invitation.

‘Miss Wythenshawe, will you walk outside with me?’

‘Oh, that is very kind of you, sir,’ said Lady Leaconham quickly, ‘but I think Lord Harworth is before you.’

Kitty was dismayed at her godmother’s interruption, but at that moment a number of visitors arrived in their box and it was clear that Lord Harworth would have to remain to talk to them. There was an added distraction as Lord Leaconham appeared, saying, ‘I saw you from the pit, you know, and thought I should look in.’

‘Garston, how delightful!’ Ann waved an imperious hand towards him. ‘Come and sit by me and tell me what you thought of the singing. Was it not dreadful?’

The small box was suddenly full of people, all talking at once.

‘Shall we go, Miss Wythenshawe?’ Daniel murmured in Kitty’s ear.

She looked around. No one raised any objection when Daniel held out his arm to her and they slipped out to join the noisy crowd parading through the vestibule. It was so busy that Kitty was obliged to cling tightly to Daniel’s arm, thankful for the strong, protective presence of her escort.

‘I thought I might not get you away,’ remarked Daniel. ‘I haven’t seen you since Barnet.’

She raised her hand in a small, defensive gesture.

‘Please. We agreed not to mention it again.’

‘Can you forget it so easily then?’

‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘I have quite put it from my mind. It is an incident that could ruin my reputation.’

‘Because you intend to marry a lord.’

‘It would make any gentleman think twice about marrying me,’ she responded frankly.

‘Not if he really cared about you.’

‘But I must not deter a suitor before he has a chance to care for me,’ she reasoned.

‘And must you have a title?’

‘Yes, if I can.’

There. It was out, she was acknowledging her ambition. She wondered why she should feel so ashamed of it: after all, it was commonly expected that every young lady would make the best marriage she could.

Papa would not have liked such worldly ambition. The thought popped into her head unbidden, but almost immediately she imagined her mother’s response: “Yes, and look where your father’s lack of worldliness has landed us—in poverty!”

After a slight pause she said, ‘Please, Mr Blackwood, do not think too badly of me: a good marriage is my mother’s dearest wish and I must not disappoint her.’

She held her breath. There was no explosion, no angry retort.

After a moment he said coolly, ‘If that is what you want then I wish you every success. There is the interval bell—shall we return to the box?’

Kitty awoke the next day to find the early morning sunshine flooding into her room, but she was conscious only of a dull depression. She sipped thoughtfully at her hot chocolate, trying to work out why there should be such a cloud over her spirits.

The visit to the opera had been a success: nothing had occurred to mar the good humour of the party. Lord Harworth had been an attentive host; the performance had been entertaining—the ostrich and the elephant most diverting—and her companions agreeable. There had been no cross words or spiteful comments to spoil her enjoyment. She allowed her mind to dwell upon Daniel. He had said nothing out of the way, had been polite and gentlemanlike during their brief walk together and after that first mention of Barnet had assured her that the matter would not be mentioned again. His manner for the remainder of the evening had been no less gentlemanlike and he had taken his leave of her with his usual calm friendliness, but Kitty had the uncomfortable feeling that he had withdrawn from her. It did not matter, of course: despite what he had said at the Rising Sun they were not really friends—no more than mere acquaintances—but she was disturbed to find that she did not like the thought that somehow she had disappointed him.

The depression did not lift all day, but Kitty was able to push it to the back of her mind while she accompanied her godmother on a shopping expedition and later drove in the park with Ann, who was full of excitement over the forthcoming birthday celebrations her mother had arranged.

‘Bertram is taking us north to Kirkleigh Hall the following week so this will be our last party of the Season,’ Ann told her. ‘I do hope the dry weather holds, for Mama is going to throw open the doors to the garden and hang coloured lamps from the trees. I think it will look magical, do not you? I cannot wait for you to see it. Bertram tells me that Mr Blackwood is engaged to dine out that evening so there will only be family sitting down to dinner beforehand. I am sure Mama can be persuaded to invite you and Aunt Leaconham.’

‘That will not be necessary,’ Kitty replied. ‘Garston is taking me to Somerset House that afternoon and I doubt we would be back in time.’

‘Garston?’

Kitty giggled.

‘I am afraid I rather bludgeoned him into it. It is a lecture, or more properly a debate, on slavery and I knew that Godmama would not allow me to go unattended, so I persuaded Garston to accompany me.’

‘But you will not miss our party?’ cried Ann, alarmed.

‘No, no,’ said Kitty soothingly. ‘Godmama and I will be there, I promise.’

She did not disclose to her friend that Lady Leaconham had almost collapsed in tears of despair and frustration when Kitty had told her of her determination to attend the debate.

They had been alone in the morning room when Kitty had mentioned the matter.

‘I may as well wash my hands of you now, you unnatural girl,’ Lady Leaconham had replied, falling back in her chair with her vinaigrette clutched in her hand. ‘What is Garston thinking of to agree to such a thing?’

‘He wishes to make up to me for his behaviour at the Rising Sun,’ Kitty explained patiently.

‘He would do better to make up to me by refusing to take you,’ retorted her godmother, taking another sniff of her smelling salts. ‘Oh, dear, what am I to do? Do you not realise the damage to your reputation if word of this gets out?’

‘My dear ma’am, surely there can be no harm in my attending a lecture,’ responded Kitty, amused. ‘It is at Somerset House, and perfectly respectable.’

‘On slavery!’ declared Lady Leaconham. ‘You have no business to be involving yourself in such matters.’

‘My father would not have agreed with you, ma’am,’ returned Kitty, a slight edge to her voice. ‘He considered it every man’s duty to reduce the suffering of others.’ She dropped to her knees beside her godmother’s chair. ‘Dear Godmama, you have such a good, kind nature and you were happy that we should avoid buying sugar from the plantations, were you not? You would not have done that if you did not support the abolition.’

Lady Leaconham eyed her doubtfully.

‘Far be it from me to see any poor creature suffer,’ she said, ‘but with the situation in France, the poor rising up against their masters—it makes people nervous, Kitty. Support for the abolition is fading. It is not so fashionable now.’

‘I do not support it because it is fashionable,’ retorted Kitty through gritted teeth.

‘No, of course not, my love,’ said Lady Leaconham hastily. She closed her eyes, took another sniff from the enamelled phial in her hand then sat up, sighing. ‘Well I suppose you will go, whatever I say.’

‘Yes, ma’am, unless you expressly forbid me to do so.’

Lady Leaconham softened immediately.

‘Bless you, child, I will not do that. But Garston must bring you straight back, and we will dine here quietly before going to the party. And for heaven’s sake, my love, when we are at Harworth House, do not

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