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Authors: Sarah Mallory

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‘I would come with you myself, but I am meeting Reverend Miller and the churchwardens that day: we are to discuss a new church roof.’

‘Poor Lord Harworth, he works so hard,’ gushed Mrs
Camber, beaming at her host. ‘My dear sir, we have not seen you all day.’

‘Business, ma’am,’ returned Lord Harworth. ‘Out riding on the estate for most of the day. But it’s done now so I am free to enjoy myself. And we have an extra guest for dinner! I said I would ask him and Blackwood has agreed to join us. No need to trouble yourself, Mama, I saw Strutt on my way in and told him to lay another place at the table.’

Even as he finished speaking the door opened and Daniel entered. Lady Leaconham’s countenance tightened with disapproval, but Kitty observed that Lady Harworth was showing no concern and her son was cheerfully introducing Daniel to his other guests. She had to admit that there could be no fault found in Daniel’s appearance. His tight-fitting dark coat was beautifully made, not a wrinkle or a puckered seam in sight. His buff-coloured waistcoat and knee-breeches enhanced his athletic figure and the snowy froth of linen at his neck was immaculate. When he turned to greet her she could not resist asking him if he had been expecting the invitation to stay to dinner.

‘Lord Harworth usually asks me so I always come prepared with a change of clothes.’ He hesitated, as if he might move away, then he said, ‘You are looking very well, Miss Wythenshawe. The country air agrees with you.’

‘I think you are right, Blackwood,’ said Lord Harworth, overhearing his comment and coming up. ‘Plenty of fresh air and exercise, eh, miss? And m’sister tells me you are learning to ride, too!’

‘Yes, sir. Ann has kindly loaned me one of her riding ponies.’

‘Selby says she is an excellent student,’ said Ann. ‘We are making up a party to ride to Titchwell next Tuesday.’

‘After only a week’s tuition?’ said Daniel. ‘I am impressed.’

A smile tugged at Kitty’s mouth, responding to the gleam in his eyes.

‘Ann has promised me it will be a very easy ride. I shall not be expected to jump any fences.’

‘I am sure you will manage very well,’ he told her.

‘And if you are at the Star around noon on Tuesday, Mr Blackwood,’ put in Ann, ‘you will be able to see for yourself, for we are taking luncheon there. You might even join us…’

Lady Leaconham stepped up.

‘I have no doubt Mr Blackwood is far too busy to ride out on a whim.’ She took Kitty’s arm and led her away. ‘Mrs Camber was complimenting me upon your gown, my love,’ she murmured. ‘She was most impressed with the embroidery. If she asks you about it pray do not tell her that your mama made it herself!’

This reminder of her humble state effectively robbed Kitty of all power of conversation and she was thankful when they went through to the dining room, where the elegant settings and superb food commanded everyone’s admiration and attention.

Kitty found herself sitting between Mr Hamilton and Mr Camber. Since the former flirted with Ann for the duration of the meal and the latter devoted himself to his food, Kitty was left to enjoy her meal and her thoughts in peace. Daniel was too far away to converse with her, almost hidden from sight by a large silver epergne, but he seemed to be at ease. Whenever she looked at him he was engrossed in conversation with one or other of his neighbours. She was relieved. They, at least, did not seem to share her godmother’s reservations about his suitability as a dinner guest.

Kitty heard her name and looked up to find Lady Harworth was asking a number of questions of her sister about
Kitty’s family and birth, all of which Lady Leaconham deftly turned aside. Kitty had to admire her tactics. She gave the impression that Kitty’s parents were very rich but eccentric, refusing to give their daughter the lavish presentation she deserved and hinting that such a come-out was unnecessary for someone of Kitty’s birth and fortune. It was subtly done and it satisfied her hostess, but it made Kitty uncomfortable, especially when she realised that Daniel was listening to the conversation, a sceptical look in his hard eyes.

 

What in hell’s name am I doing here?
Daniel was beginning to wish he had not accepted his host’s invitation to stay for dinner. The knowledge that Kitty was at Kirkleigh had been gnawing away at him ever since Harworth had mentioned it. He had returned from London determined to forget Miss Kitty Wythenshawe. She had set her heart on marrying well, so let her get on with it. There were many girls far prettier: Miss Harworth, for example, with her generous figure and golden hair was generally acknowledged to be a beauty, but Daniel found his eyes drawn towards Kitty, with her dusky curls and expressive mouth and those deep green eyes that could darken and flash with anger.

When they had parted in London he had vowed he would never see her again: at the time it had seemed an easy promise to keep, since he was leaving Town. He had hoped that once he was home he would be able to forget her by throwing himself into his work, but he had not succeeded. She was always in his thoughts. It did not matter if he was surrounded by the deafening clatter of machinery in the mill, silently poring over the ledgers in the office or even riding over the moors, he found himself thinking of her, wondering what she was doing, if she was happy. Harworth had mentioned that she and Lady Leaconham were amongst
his summer guests so he had not been surprised to see her in the park that morning, but he had been taken aback by his own soaring elation when he had ridden up and she had smiled at him with such obvious pleasure. She had looked very good sitting on the horse, too, the tight-fitting riding jacket accentuating her tiny waist and straight back. He smiled slightly, remembering her nervousness. That would go in time, of course. He had no doubt that she would be a good horsewoman. In his imagination he saw them riding out together over the moors in high summer, galloping along the paths lined with purple heather, the sky a vivid, unbroken expanse of blue…

Daniel caught himself up. What was he thinking of? That would only happen if she remained in the north—as Lady Harworth. He looked at his host, sitting at the head of the table. Harworth was sitting back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Kitty and a faint, satisfied smile on his face. A shiver rattled Daniel’s spine. Had he offered for her already? No, he thought not: Lady Leaconham was still fending off her sister’s questions about Miss Wythenshawe. If an offer had been made and accepted Daniel was certain Lady Leaconham would be looking much more complacent. But it was only a matter of time. He ground his teeth in frustration.

 

After dinner they gathered in the drawing room, where it was expected that the young ladies would each take their turn upon the pianoforte. He watched Ann drag Kitty forward, insisting that she should play. Daniel chose to stand at the edge of the room where he could watch her without being observed himself. As her fingers flew over the keys he was impressed. She played well, due no doubt to a good teacher and a willingness to apply herself—he was well aware of the tussles between his mother and Bella when it
came to music lessons! All too soon the performance was over and Ann bounced up, declaring that they had been practising a duet. It was not yet dark enough for candles but the summer evening was drawing to a close, the setting sun casting a golden glow over the drawing room and adding an extra radiance to the two young ladies seated together at the pianoforte.

‘Do they not make a beautiful picture?’ murmured Lord Harworth, coming to stand beside him. ‘Two fine girls, one so dark, the other fair: I would like to have their likeness captured, just as they are now. What do you say, Blackwood, they would look well hanging on the wall here, eh?’

‘Very well, my lord.’

‘Aye, I think so.’ Lord Harworth turned towards him, saying confidentially, ‘I am minded to offer for Miss Wythenshawe, you know.’ Daniel clenched his jaw, not trusting himself to speak. ‘I have been thinking for some time that I should settle down. There’s the title to think of, I need an heir, you see. And Miss Wythenshawe is a pretty little thing. Besides, my mother likes her.’

‘Does she?’

‘Oh, yes. Well, she’s her sister’s godchild, so we know she comes from a good family. It’s an anxious time,’ continued Lord Harworth, shaking his head. ‘Her godmother is very obliging, of course, but you said yourself the gel was above your touch: I only hope she doesn’t turn her nose up at a mere baron! Oh, bravo, ladies, bravo!’

A smattering of applause told them that the duet was ended and Harworth walked away, clapping loudly. A bank of heavy cloud had blotted out the sun, and there was a break in the entertainments as servants hurried in to light the candles. Daniel remained in the shadows. He wished the evening was over so he could take his leave, but to set
out before the moon had risen would cause comment. He must endure this torture a little longer.

The room was settling again. Over by the piano he could see Kitty shaking her head, politely declining to play more and she moved away as Miss Harworth prepared to display her expertise at the harp. Daniel drew a sharp breath: she was coming towards him.

‘Do you play for us tonight, Mr Blackwood. Or sing, perhaps?’

‘No, not tonight.’ Thank heavens she had not asked him what he thought of her performance, he could not recall a note, only that he had been spellbound.

‘I understand you have been out riding all day with Lord Harworth.’

He relaxed slightly. This was safer ground.

‘Yes. We were looking at sites for his new mill. There are several that would be suitable.’

‘It would require many men and women to work in such a place, would it not? Where would they come from?’

‘From the surrounding farms and villages. Harworth is already improving the farming methods used on his estates so there is less work on the land. The people will make a better living in the mills.’

She nodded. Her eyes were fixed upon Ann, playing the harp, but he could tell that she was thinking of other things, and he watched her, entranced by the tiny crease in her brow, the slight quirk of her lips as some new thought came to her.

‘Mr Blackwood, may I ask you a question?’ She turned her disconcertingly clear gaze upon him and his heart skidded erratically within his chest. His brows snapped together: better that he should frown at her than she should know the effect she had upon him! She ran her tongue over her bottom lip in that nervous little habit of hers, rousing the
demon desire in him. He had to steel himself not to reach out for her. She started to turn away. ‘I beg your pardon. I can see you think it an impertinence…’

‘No!’ He put his hand on her arm. ‘No,’ he said again. ‘Please. Ask me.’

His fingers seemed welded to her flesh. It took an immense effort to remove them when he saw the startled look in her eyes.

‘Please,’ he said again, giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘What is it you wish to ask me?’

‘I wonder, sir, why you are working for Lord Harworth? From what I know of you…’ She blushed a little. ‘And I confess it is not very much! From what you have told me, you do not need this employment. And will not another mill be competition for you?’

‘It will be competition, yes, but the industry is young, there is room for more manufactories. But if Harworth is determined to set up a mill, I am concerned that he should set about it in the right way. Soon he will need to bring in extra workers—whole families. I want to make sure they have proper housing, a school for the children, a doctor to look after them.’

He read approval in her face, but even as it made his heart soar he knew he must defend himself. He said curtly, ‘Do not think of me as a saint, Miss Wythenshawe. This is not charity, it is good business sense. If men are sick, or ill fed, or worrying about their family, they do not work so well.’

There were more questions in her head, he knew it, and part of him wanted to draw her aside and continue their discussion, but that was madness: the longer he spent in her company the harder it was to tear himself away. A movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Miss Har
worth approaching with her brother and Martin Hamilton at her side.

‘Well, now, Blackwood, what did you think of that?’ demanded Lord Harworth. ‘Hamilton here says she plays like an angel, what?’ He threw back his head and gave a loud laugh. ‘Harps, angels—what a good joke.’

Ann tapped his arm with her fan and tried to frown.

‘Martin meant it as a compliment, Bertram, and I shall take it as such.’

Kitty looked around, startled. Daniel wondered if she had even noticed that her friend’s performance had ended.

‘Having heard you perform on the pianoforte, Miss Wythenshawe, I know you are musical, too,’ remarked Hamilton, in what Daniel considered to be far too familiar a fashion. ‘What did
you
think of Miss Harworth’s performance?’

Kitty stepped away a little before replying.

‘It was delightful,’ she said. ‘I did not notice one wrong note.’

‘And
you
are truly delightful to say so, Miss Wythenshawe,’ chuckled Lord Harworth. ‘Ann has only been learning the harp for a few months and I tell her she needs to practise more if she is to become really proficient.’

‘But there are so many other things to do, Bertram, especially when we have company.’

‘You cannot expect your sister to neglect her guests, my lord,’ said Hamilton with a little laugh.

‘Of course not, and I, too will now devote myself to our guests.’ Lord Harworth bowed towards Kitty. There was no mistaking the warm, intimate smile he gave her. ‘A task that will give me no small enjoyment, I assure you!’

Daniel thought it a clumsy compliment but it made Kitty
blush rosily. She murmured, ‘We must not take up all your time, my lord.’

‘Nonsense! What are we here for if not to enjoy ourselves! In fact, I am thinking I should put off the meeting on Tuesday and ride with you to Titchwell.’

‘Oh, no, my lord,’ said Kitty faintly. ‘If you are otherwise engaged…’

‘I thought that meeting was arranged for some weeks,’ put in Daniel, irritation sharpening his voice. ‘Surely you will not rearrange it to accommodate an outing of pleasure?’

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