To Catch a Husband... (9 page)

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.