To Catch a Husband... (23 page)

T
hree days later Kitty was back at Fallridge, where her mother’s silence was harder to bear than the tears and recriminations she had anticipated. The announcement that she was not going to marry Lord Harworth had been met with bewilderment and outrage at Kirkleigh. Lady Leaconham had pleaded and Ann had begged her to reconsider: Bertram adopted the role of martyr but in Lady Harworth Kitty found an ally. The lady had never reconciled herself to the idea of her son taking a penniless bride and she showed more kindness than Kitty thought she deserved.

Lady Harworth arranged for her own carriage to take Kitty back to Fallridge, together with the trunks full of clothes that she had accumulated in London and a purse full of coins. To Kitty it felt as if Lady Harworth was buying her off, but she did not refuse the money, knowing that it would bring some relief to her family, from whom she had so cruelly ripped the possibility of comfort and riches.

A letter from Lady Leaconham followed her, detailing
how badly she had been deceived and stating that she would do no more for her goddaughter, to which Mama insisted that Kitty should reply with a very civil apology and an assurance that she would not call upon her for any further assistance.

‘Your godmother has been very good but we must now think of what we are going to do with you,’ said Mama, sealing up the letter and with it all her hopes. ‘Mrs Midgley has put some work my way, so there is a little sewing you can help me with until you have stopped crying all the time.’

‘Mama, I do not cry all the time!’

‘Do not tell me that you do not water your pillow every night, my love, because the walls are very thin and even Aunt Jane can hear you, and as you know she is very deaf!’

‘Very well, I confess that my spirits are a little low.’

‘It is my belief that you are nursing a broken heart,’ said Mama. ‘But I will not ask you to tell me anything about that if you do not wish to do so.’

Kitty bowed her head.

‘Oh, Mama, I am such a disappointment to you.’

‘Nonsense, you are a credit to me! Why, look at you, so pretty as you are, and with an excellent education, too. I was always afraid Letitia Leaconham was aiming a little too high, hoping to catch a baron for you. I could wish that the squire had not seen the announcement of your betrothal, because it is very hard to hold one’s head up knowing that everyone is wondering just what occurred to make you break off the engagement. And of course there are some ill-natured enough to gloat at your misfortune. But we shall take no notice of them.’ She looked closely at Kitty. ‘Are you sure there were no other gentleman dangling after you,
not even one who might be keen enough to seek you out and come courting you?’

An image of Daniel rose before Kitty and the tears that were never far away clogged her throat. She shook her head, unable to trust her voice.

‘Well, then, we must think of an occupation for you,’ Mama said briskly. ‘I had it from Mrs Hobbs that the squire’s governess has given notice. Now I suggest you put on your bonnet and take yourself off to the squire’s house this minute and put your name forward. You have always been a favourite with the older girls, so I think you have a good chance of securing the position.’

‘Really, Mama?’

‘Of course! I don’t say I wouldn’t prefer to see you married, but if it isn’t to be then we must find you some other way to support yourself.’

The weeks dragged by and Kitty fell into a regular routine at Fallridge. The squire and his lady agreed to take Kitty on as governess, but she was not required until the end of November, when the present governess was leaving to live with her sister. In the meantime Kitty worked at home and took over many of the household tasks, leaving Aunt Jane and her mother free to concentrate on their sewing. Aunt Jane might tut and bemoan the fact that Kitty’s hands were growing rough from the hard work but Kitty preferred the activity, because she found sewing left her mind far too free to think about Daniel.

Even when her hands were red and sore from washing clothes, or her eyes smarting from dust as she swept out the cottage, she could not regret calling off her engagement. It was not just the idea of marriage to a man she didn’t love: that might have been bearable. Given time they might even have grown quite fond of one another, but her heart recoiled
from the thought of watching Daniel with another woman. Also, knowing that Daniel loved her, it would not have been fair to Ann for Kitty to remain. This way she could at least give them a chance of happiness. This thought was her only consolation as she dragged herself to bed every night, afraid her dreams would be filled with painful visions of Daniel, but disappointed if they were not.

She refused to discuss what had happened at Kirkleigh with her mother, and when Mrs Wythenshawe read for herself in the London newspaper the brief announcement that the betrothal was terminated, she immediately went off to visit the squire and to beg him not to pass on any further newspapers since her interest in London society was now completely at an end. Thus Kitty was spared any news of Daniel and Ann’s betrothal. That part of her life was over. She must now look to the future.

August was almost over when the quiet of the village was disturbed by the arrival of a large travelling carriage. Kitty had been gathering fruit from the hedgerows and was making her way home as the elegant vehicle swept past her. She saw it stop at the green and the driver leaned down to address one of the lads tending the pigs there before setting off again, only to pull up a few yards on, outside of her mother’s cottage.

Kitty stopped, her skin prickling with a presentiment of danger. As she watched she saw two ladies descend from the carriage and after a moment they disappeared into the cottage. Kitty breathed again. For a dreadful moment she thought it was Daniel come to find her. Settling her basket more comfortably on her arm, she began to walk towards her home. It must be someone with a commission for Mama. She quickened her step. It might even be a very
lucrative order, since the lady could afford to travel in a coach and four.

The cottage was very dark after the bright sunshine and Kitty paused in the doorway, waiting for her eyes to adjust.

‘Ah, here is my niece now!’ Aunt Jane’s greeting was preceded by her hacking cough. ‘Come in, Kitty, come in and meet our visitors!’

Kitty stepped in, dropping a slight curtsy towards the two ladies. They were mother and daughter, she guessed, because despite the difference in their ages they were both black-haired and dark-eyed, and both had the same direct gaze that they now turned upon her. Kitty gave them her shy smile, wondering if she had met them before.

‘Goodness, you have been busy, my love,’ said Aunt Jane, taking the basket from Kitty. ‘Wimberries, lovely—and elderberries, too!’

‘Yes,’ said Kitty. ‘I thought it might be a little early for the elderberries, but I found some, not enough for cordial, of course, but we can put them into a pie, I thought…’

‘Excellent! I shall take them through to the back. Your mama is gone to fetch down her pattern books but she will be back directly. Oh, but where are my manners? Mrs Blackwood, may I present to you my niece, Katherine. Mrs Midgley recommended us to Mrs Blackwood, Kitty, and she is come to have a gown made up for her daughter—’

Blackwood! Kitty’s heart lurched. No wonder they looked so familiar. She shifted uneasily from one foot to the other, painfully aware of her old gown and fruit-stained hands. She welcomed the sound of Mama’s footsteps on the stairs.

‘Now, I have a number of patterns here that might be suitable, as well as a number of magazines that you might like to look at. My daughter was in London recently and
brought them back for me… Oh, Kitty, there you are! I hope Jane has introduced you…’

‘Yes, she has,’ put in Mrs Blackwood, smiling and looking so like Daniel that Kitty wanted to cry. ‘I wonder, Miss Wythenshawe, if you are not too tired from your berry-picking, if you might take a turn around the green with me? There are such a number of books and pictures for Bella to go through that it will take her quite some time, I think. I am sure I can rely upon your mother’s judgement to guide her towards a suitable selection from which to make our final choice.’

‘Yes, do pray leave me, Mama,’ said Miss Blackwood, bending her own mischievous smile upon Kitty. ‘I am sure I shall decide much quicker without you sighing over me and growing impatient!’

‘You see, Miss Wythenshawe, we are quite
de trop,
’ chuckled Mrs Blackwood. ‘Let us walk.’

Silently Kitty stepped back out into the sunshine. This matron could only be Daniel’s mother—and he had mentioned to her that he had a sister—
a minx
had been his words, and recalling the mischievous twinkle in the girl’s dark eyes Kitty could well believe this was she. How unfortunate that Mrs Midgley should recommend Mama as a seamstress for them. However, it was highly unlikely that she would come into contact with Daniel. It was rare for gentlemen to accompany their womenfolk on such errands so there really was no reason to think it would ever be discovered that they had been acquainted.

Mrs Blackwood set out for the green at a brisk pace and Kitty fell into step beside her.

‘Well, Miss Wythenshawe, it has been quite a task to track you down.’

Kitty started.

‘Our cottage is a little out of the way…’

‘That is not what I meant, my dear. I was referring to the way you disappeared after jilting Lord Harworth.’

‘Oh.’ Kitty swallowed. ‘It…it was not deliberate. I merely came home.’

‘As any loving daughter would.’ Mrs Blackwood nodded approvingly. ‘I am sure I cannot blame you, for you could hardly remain at Kirkleigh, could you? And I understand Lady Leaconham has washed her hands of you.’ She gave a little tut of disapproval. ‘I find it hard to understand why people should object to a broken engagement, when one or other party realises they have made a mistake. It is surely better they discover the sad truth before the knot is irrevocably tied.’

‘It would have been a very advantageous match for me,’ put in Kitty, determined to be honest. ‘I have disappointed so many people by my action. I only hope that Lord Harworth can forgive me, in time.’ She added, ‘I do not believe his affections were engaged.’

‘No, I think you are right. My son tells me he is even now turning his attentions to Miss Leyton-Smythe, a wealthy heiress who has recently arrived in the area.’

Kitty hesitated a little before asking the question that was uppermost in her mind. ‘Is—does Mr Blackwood spend a great deal of time at Kirkleigh?’

‘Whenever his work can spare him, yes. But that is only to be expected. He is still advising Lord Harworth on his building project, and of course he must visit Miss Harworth.’

Kitty nodded, wondering miserably why it had been so important to ask the question, since the answer only brought her more pain.

Mrs Blackwood continued thoughtfully, ‘But I do not believe he is happy.’

Kitty’s eyes flew to her face and found herself subjected to a piercing scrutiny.

‘I think something occurred at Kirkleigh, something that my son will not divulge, but I hope that you can help me.’

‘Oh, no, no,’ stammered Kitty. ‘I am sure I do not know…’

Mrs Blackwood continued as if she had not spoken.

‘You see, when Daniel returned from London he made several references to you, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘He—he did?’

‘Yes. He wanted to know if I had heard of the family. I am afraid I could not help him, but I thought perhaps he had formed an attachment, for he was quite preoccupied, you see. Oh, he did not neglect his duties, but I found him not quite so…attentive as he had been. My daughter Bella noticed it as well, and she also noted that Daniel’s behaviour changed markedly when Lord Harworth brought a party to Kirkleigh.’ A little smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. ‘It did not take long to discover that the mysterious Miss Wythenshawe was one of Lord Harworth’s guests.’

‘But there was nothing—’ cried Kitty. ‘We hardly saw each other—I mean—’

Mrs Blackwood patted her arm.

‘Oh, do not distress yourself, child. Daniel said nothing, I assure you. It was all conjecture on my part, but I think I know my son pretty well: it was very plain to me that Daniel had fallen head over heels in love.’

Kitty wrung her hands. ‘No!’ she whispered.

‘You may imagine my surprise when Daniel came home to tell me he was engaged to Miss Harworth. Of course, he also informed me that you were to marry her brother and I began to see that something had gone terribly wrong.’ She
stopped, turning to look at Kitty, a mixture of sympathy and enquiry in her dark eyes. ‘Am I right to think you did not know of my son’s feelings for you?’ Miserably Kitty shook her head and heard her companion give an exasperated sigh. ‘Oh, the foolish boy.’

‘Pray do not blame him, ma’am! He…he believed I wanted to marry Lord Harworth. And…and I thought so, too, for a while.’ She fixed her eyes upon Mrs Blackwood, willing her to understand. ‘I did not know he l-loved me, until it was too late, until he was engaged to Ann. If I had married her brother then we would have been constantly thrown together. The idea of seeing him every day and not being able to…’ She pulled out her handkerchief and resolutely blew her nose. ‘Once I knew he…he loved me I was sure I must not stay. If it had been only my feelings that had to be suppressed, every look, every gesture designed to conceal what was in my heart, that would have been painful enough, but to know Daniel was suffering, too—I thought it best to leave. Without me there to remind him, I thought he would soon become accustomed to his new life. Miss Harworth is a splendid young woman: she will make him a good wife.’

‘But he loves you.’

Kitty closed her eyes. She said quietly, ‘It is an excellent match, ma’am. I believe in the highest circles many married couples begin with mere liking but soon develop a sincere affection. I can only pray that that will happen.’

‘I hope so, Miss Wythenshawe, since I can see no way out of the betrothal.’

‘I am so sorry.’

‘So, too, am I. You have been very foolish, the pair of you, but what’s done is done and we must look to the future. Tell me your plans, Miss Wythenshawe.’