To Catch a Husband... (24 page)

‘Me? Well, I must earn my living,’ said Kitty. ‘I am to become a governess in November.’

‘And is that what you want?’

Kitty spread her hands.

‘It is a good situation; the present governess is only leaving because she is obliged to return to the family home. She has told me the squire and his lady are very considerate employers.’

‘And you turned down marriage to Lord Harworth for this?’ There was a note of wonder in Mrs Blackwood’s voice. Silently Kitty spread her hands again, too miserable to speak. ‘Well, you must let me do something for your family.’

‘Oh, no, please! That is not necessary—’

‘It is in some part my son’s fault that you are reduced to this.’

‘It was my decision,’ replied Kitty, raising her head. ‘I could not accept charity, especially from you, madam.’

‘You must accept it for your mother and your aunt,’ came the firm reply. ‘They will not be able to continue with their sewing for many more years, and if they remain in that damp little house their health will soon fail. I shall set up a fund of some sort to provide them with a small income. My lawyer will arrange everything. It shall be anonymous—your mother will believe it is some benevolent acquaintance of your father’s. Will that do?’

After a moment Kitty nodded.

‘I want nothing for myself, but I will accept your offer for my mother’s sake, Mrs Blackwood, and thank you for it.’

‘Good. Then it is settled. Now let us return to the house and see what unsuitable designs Bella has chosen for her new gown!’

‘…what say you, my dear?’

‘Hmm? Yes, if you wish, Mama.’

Daniel had no idea what his mother had asked him. His thoughts had been far away, as they were so often these days. He knew his mother’s eyes were upon him and gave her an apologetic smile across the breakfast table.

‘I am sorry, Mama, what did you say to me?’

‘It hardly matters, my dear. I was only saying that Cook has procured a couple of rabbits and I wondered if we should add them to the dinner tonight. Your father is bringing your uncle back to dine with us and he is very partial to rabbit.’

‘Then by all means have them,’ he replied. ‘I regret I shall not be here; I am promised to dine at Kirkleigh.’

‘Oh. I had thought that now your work on Lord Harworth’s mill was complete you would have a little more time for yourself. You are looking tired, my son: I am well aware that you have spent two hours at the mill already this morning. I wish you would stay home and rest today. I am sure you are eager to hear from your uncle how Barrowford Mill is faring.’

He said quietly, ‘Miss Harworth expects me.’

There was a heartbeat’s hesitation.

‘Of course,’ nodded Mrs Blackwood. ‘You must not disappoint her.’

After breakfast Daniel excused himself and went off to the study. There were letters to be answered before he could set off for Kirkleigh. He yawned. Perhaps it was not strictly necessary for him to visit the mill every morning, but when his father was away he liked to assure himself that everything was in order for the day.

He sat down at the desk and pulled the pile of letters
towards him. There was nothing urgent but he wanted to deal with them all before setting off for Kirkleigh. A tiny voice in his head whispered that he was putting off the journey. It was true. He was reluctant to spend more time at Kirkleigh than was necessary. There were too many memories. With something like a growl he forced himself to concentrate on his correspondence, working his way doggedly through the pile of letters until each one had been answered. The official documents that had arrived from London received no more than a cursory glance before being put aside to discuss with his father.

The chiming of the church clock reminded him that it was getting late. Reluctantly he sent a message to the stables to have Marnie saddled up.

The ride across the moors toward Kirkleigh usually provided him with some relief from the deadly depression that dogged him, but today he could not seem to shake it off. It was a beautiful day, the sun blazing down from a cloudless sky on the purple heather, which was fading now that summer was ending. He told himself he should be enjoying the freedom of the journey, the refreshing breeze on his face and the skylark trilling above him, but it was no good. After a brief gallop he allowed Marnie to slow down and pick her own way along the well-worn path while he gave himself up to thinking about Kitty. He rarely allowed himself the agonising luxury of wondering what she was doing, if she was happy, but that did not mean she was not constantly in his thoughts. Every waking moment conjured a picture of her: when he poured himself a cup of coffee in the morning the dark liquid was the colour of her hair; when he was surrounded by the roar and clatter of the spinning shop he could hear her asking questions about the mill and its workers. At Kirkleigh it was even worse,
for everywhere he looked there were reminders of Kitty—taking her riding lesson in the park, drinking tea in the drawing room. When he sat down to dinner he expected at any moment to see her peeping at him between the epergne and the candlesticks. There was no escape from her—even at night the sky reminded him of the time he had brought her back from Chapeltown. Sometimes she was so real to him he thought that if only he looked around quickly enough he would see her at his shoulder.

Angrily he shook his head. It did no good to dwell on the past. Ann was waiting for him at Kirkleigh and not for the world would he have her know how bitterly he regretted asking her to marry him. As Kitty had said to him, the very last time he had seen her, they had to live by their choices.

He straightened his shoulders. This maudlin behaviour would help no one. Neither would being late for dinner. With a flick of his whip and a word of encouragement to his horse he settled himself in the saddle and cantered on towards Kirkleigh.

He rode Marnie to the stables and entered the house by a side door, where he was surprised to find himself accosted by one of the footmen, who informed him that Lord Harworth and his sister were awaiting him in the study.

‘I thought you might be sitting in the garden on such a lovely day,’ he said, tossing his hat and gloves on to a chair. ‘Is there some business to discuss, my lord? I thought we had covered everything on the mill.’

‘We have, Blackwood, and the building work is progressing smoothly.’ Lord Harworth replied. ‘This has nothing to do with the mill.’

Daniel looked from Ann to her brother, his brow contracting a little.

‘Is something amiss?’

Lord Harworth picked up a newspaper from the desk.

‘I need you to explain this.’ He held out the paper. ‘I have just read a report of the petition presented to Parliament by the West Riding Anti-Slavery Society—you did not tell me you were a member of the committee.’

Daniel’s brows rose fractionally.

‘The subject never arose.’

‘I thought I made my views on this matter perfectly clear.’

‘You did,’ agreed Daniel. ‘They are not
my
views, however, and I have never made any secret of that. The sooner we stop trading in slaves the better.’

‘You do not know what you are saying, Blackwood. That way lies anarchy! You have seen what is happening in France. If we show weakness now…’

‘It is not weakness to object to these poor souls being bought and sold and then worked to death for profit.’

‘This is dangerous nonsense,’ retorted his lordship. ‘Who knows where it would end? Such radical views must not be encouraged. I would be obliged if you would send a note to the newspaper immediately, declaring that you have withdrawn your support.’

‘I cannot do that, my lord.’

Ann rose from her seat, her manner unusually serious.

‘You see, Brother, I told you he was a man of principle.’ She turned to Daniel. ‘Perhaps you do not understand: Bertram has explained it all to me. We have plantations in the West Indies and depend upon the slaves there to work the land. I admit I was shocked when I learned of the horrific conditions endured by some of these poor wretches, but we could work towards improving their lot.’

‘I am very sorry but that is not good enough. The trade
must be ended. England will not become bankrupt, as some predict. We will find a way around the problems…’

‘And what of your mills?’ Lord Harworth challenged him. ‘There are many who say your workers are little better than slaves.’

Daniel drew himself up.

‘You have seen for yourself the conditions in my mill: I pay an honest wage and look to the welfare of my workers and their families. One does not have to be a Quaker to run a mill well.’

‘Very well, very well,’ said Lord Harworth testily. ‘I admit that your mills are exemplary, but what of this slavery petition? My name cannot be connected to that.’

Daniel said with great deliberation, ‘I will not withdraw, my lord.’

A long silence ensued, broken only by the ticking of the clock on the mantelpiece.

‘Very well, Blackwood,’ Lord Harworth said at last. ‘I may have to accept your views and deal with you on matters of business, but this is not something I can allow in my own family. I have already discussed this with Ann and explained to her that if you will not change your mind, then the engagement between you must end. I will forbid the banns!’

He waited expectantly but Daniel made no reply. He glanced at Ann. Her eyes were fixed upon him but he could not read her thoughts.

He said quietly, ‘If that is the case then I am very sorry for it, but I cannot in conscience withdraw my support for this cause.’

‘Very well, if that is your final word.’ Lord Harworth turned to his sister. ‘Ann?’

She rose, drawing the diamond ring from her finger and holding it out to him.

‘Do not feel too sorry for me, Daniel,’ she said. ‘Being engaged to you was not half as much fun as I expected it to be.’

He nodded, relieved. ‘Perhaps that is because I am not the right man for you.’

‘Perhaps not. I have thought for some time now that Garston might suit me better. He is family, you see. He understands our position.’

‘Then I wish you every happiness, Miss Harworth.’ Daniel picked up his hat and gloves. ‘In the circumstances I think it would be best if I did not stay for dinner. Please convey my apologies to Lady Harworth.’

‘I will.’ Lord Harworth gave a dismissive nod. ‘I bid you good day, Blackwood.’

As Daniel reached the door Ann called to him. He turned.

‘When you find Kitty will you give her my love?’ she said, smiling a little. ‘And tell her there is no ill will in this house towards her. Is there, Bertram?’

Lord Harworth shifted uncomfortably and gazed down at the carpet, tracing the pattern with the toe of one beautifully polished boot.

‘No, none,’ he muttered. ‘Pray tell Miss Wythenshawe I realise now that our marriage would have been a grave mistake.’ He looked up. ‘Tell her she is welcome at Kirkleigh at any time. As are you, sir, as long as you leave your opinions at the gate!’

‘O
h, dear, I cannot make head nor tail of this letter.’

Mrs Wythenshawe passed the paper to her sister. ‘Jane, dear, you must read it and tell me what you think of it.’

Aunt Jane coughed and put the letter in her lap.

‘Well, it is from a London lawyer.’ She cleaned her spectacles and settled them back more firmly on her nose. ‘I do not claim to understand every word of it, but it says there is an annuity due to the widow of Mr Walter Charles Wythenshawe.’ She looked up, her mouth open in astonishment. ‘Three hundred pounds a year!’

Kitty gave a little gasp. Mrs Blackwood had kept her word, but Kitty had not expected her to be so generous.

‘And you have no idea who is our mysterious benefactor?’ Aunt Jane handed the letter back. ‘My dear sister, can you recall no acquaintance of Walter’s who would do this, and after all this time, too?’

‘No, I can think of no one.’ She looked up, her eyes shining. ‘We shall be very comfortable now! We shall be able to rent a better house. Kitty will not need to become
a governess! And we will not need to take in any more sewing!’ Mama gave a little skip as she crossed to the little table beneath the window. ‘I shall reply to this immediately, for the lawyer asks me to advise him of the bank I wish to use to receive the money. Oh, dear, how exciting! I am sure I shall not be able to set a stitch today!’

‘Then do not, Mama,’ Kitty urged her, smiling. ‘You should take a holiday.’

‘And so I shall, my love, but first we have Miss Blackwood’s two gowns to finish. They are promised for tomorrow morning, and no matter how rich we may become, I will not go back on my word!’

It was Kitty’s intention to be at home the following day. She wanted to meet Mrs Blackwood and thank her for her generosity, but a sleepless night sapped her courage. To see Daniel’s mother again, or his sister, would only reinforce the feelings of desolation and loss that constantly dragged at her spirits. She rose from her bed, determined not to meet them. She would pen a letter to Mrs Blackwood. A much better idea, she decided, since she would be able to choose her words carefully and ensure that her gratitude was properly expressed.

Having made her decision, Kitty dressed quickly and announced that she was going out.

‘I am going to see…going to see…’ Kitty searched around in her mind for a name. If only her mother had not kept her quite so confined she might have comfortably spent the day with someone in the village, but her mother had never mixed with their neighbours and there was no one Kitty knew well enough to call upon unannounced. She thought with regret of Ann Harworth: by giving up the chance to marry Ann’s brother, she had lost her only real friend. The pain of that disappointment gave her an
even greater desire to escape. ‘I am going to walk over the moors to Coldclough Valley. To collect elderberries.’

‘But that is such a long way,’ declared her mother. ‘It will take you the best part of the day!’

‘I know, but all the ripe berries around the village have been picked and the valley is particularly well stocked with elders.’

‘But Mrs Blackwood is coming this morning,’ protested Aunt Jane. ‘Will you not stay to see her? Upon her last visit she showed you such a flattering amount of attention…’

‘Then please, make my apologies, Aunt,’ said Kitty hastily. ‘I am sure you do not need me—indeed, it will be very cramped in here if we all stay. Besides, I fear the weather is going to break and if I don’t collect the berries today they may all be ruined.’ She picked up her basket. ‘Do not be anxious for me, I shall be back before dark!’ And with that she whisked herself out of the house.

Kitty hurried out of the village and was soon following the path across the moors. It was such a warm day that she tucked her shawl into her basket. The sun burned through the thin muslin of her gown, warming her shoulders. She loved the empty moors on days such as this when the late August sunshine seemed to acquire an added brilliance, a sudden, flaring reminder that autumn would soon arrive.

By the time Coldclough Valley was in sight she was hot and flushed with her exertion, but her spirits had risen considerably. Perhaps the future was not quite so bleak after all, and although her spirit balked at taking charity from Mrs Blackwood, she could not deny that the annuity settled upon her mother would make life considerably easier.

‘And Mrs Blackwood was very right,’ she told herself, coming to a halt on the path. ‘We would not have been in
this situation if I had never met her son. Horrid, horrid man!’

As she tilted her face up to catch the sun a sudden movement attracted her eye and she looked back the way she had come. There in the distance was the small black shape of a horse and rider. Kitty gasped.

‘It could be anyone,’ she muttered, trying to calm her racing heart.

She blinked and rubbed her hand across her eyes. The figure was too far away to pick out any detail, but instinct told her it was Daniel. The big black horse, the upright figure—it
had
to be Daniel. As she stared, the rider changed course and began to move more quickly. He was heading in her direction.

‘Oh, heavens!’

She picked up her skirts and ran towards the clough. He was such a long way behind her, she only had to reach the wooded valley and she might be able to evade him. She reached the ridge and hurried down the path into the valley, allowing her pace to slow a little once she was sure Daniel could no longer see her. She was dismayed to see how far she would have to walk before she reached the woods, but there was no choice: the river cutting through the valley bottom might be small but it was very deep and it effectively blocked her path. She must go either up or downstream. She chose to head towards the woods. She half-ran, half-scrambled down the bank, thankful that the ground beside the tumbling waters was covered with a short, springy turf that allowed her to make good progress.

But not good enough. All too soon she saw Daniel on the ridge above her. She began to run, but he urged his horse to descend the shallow bank diagonally to cut her off. She heard the jingle of harness and the thud of hooves. Speed
was useless. Kitty slowed again to a walk, turning to glare at Daniel.

‘How did you find me?’ she called out.

‘Your mother described to me the path you had taken. You have her eyes, you know: a beautiful moss green. She is a most delightful woman: I left her taking tea with Bella and my own mother. I think they will get on very well.’

Kitty refused to be pleased.

‘I do not want to talk to you. Pray go away.’

‘But I want to talk to
you.
’

‘There is nothing to say!’

‘But there is. Kitty, listen to me—’

‘Go away!’ she cried. ‘How dare you come here and—and torture me like this! I told you I would have nothing more to do with you.’

‘But I am a free man—Ann and I are no longer engaged.’

‘So you have broken her heart, too!’

‘No, it was—! Kitty, hell and damnation,
will
you stand still for a moment!’ He jumped down from his horse and came towards her.

‘No!’ Kitty stopped, putting up her hand as if to hold him off. ‘Do not come any nearer. If you do I will…I will jump in the beck!’

His lips twitched. It pierced her heart to remember how much she loved his smile.

‘That would be a little extreme, don’t you think?’

‘No!’ she retorted angrily. ‘You have b-brought me nothing but pain: I would walk through
fire
rather than talk to you again!’

That wiped the smile from his face, but his consternation cut even deeper into her heart.

‘I did not cry off, Kitty, you have my word on it. You see—’

She said quickly, ‘I made a solemn vow that I was done with you for ever, so whatever tricks you used to force Ann to jilt you they are wasted! I will not have anything more to do with you!’

She began to move again, hurrying along the riverbank. For a short while she thought Daniel had stopped following her, but a quick glance behind showed that he had merely paused to remove his coat and throw it over the saddle.

‘Do you know, it is far too hot for so much exertion. I wish you would slow down.’

He spoke in a conversational tone, as if they were enjoying a gentle stroll together. Anger was warring with frustration in Kitty. How dare he torment her in this way? Ahead she could see a bridge across the stream, a series of flat stone slabs supported on boulders in the stream bed. If she could cross that, the path wound up past a small cottage where a wisp of smoke trailed from the chimney. Perhaps the owner would allow her to rest inside and shut the door upon Daniel.

‘Kitty, will you please stop and allow me to explain!’ He reached for her and she sprinted away from him.

‘Go away, Daniel. Go away and leave me in peace!’

She had reached the bridge. Gingerly she stepped on to the first slab. It wobbled slightly beneath her. A few more steps took her to the centre, but Daniel had caught up with her. His hand shot out and gripped her arm, stopping her in her tracks. She tried to shake him off.

‘How dare you touch me? Let me go this instant, you…you fiend!’

‘I will let you go, if you promise to listen to me and to stop acting like some angry fishwife!’ Kitty froze, furious at his insult. He was scowling down at her, his chest heaving. ‘Well,’ he said at last. ‘If I let you go will you promise not to run away?’

‘Yes.’ The word forced itself out between her clenched teeth.

He nodded and released her arm. Kitty glared at him as he stood beside her on the narrow bridge. Every slight, every insult she had suffered at his hands returning to her mind, magnified tenfold. Deliberately, she put her hands against his chest and pushed.

If Daniel had not been about to step away from her it would never have happened, but he was momentarily distracted and Kitty’s push caught him off balance. He twisted, his arms thrown wide as he toppled into the river. Kitty watched in a mixture of horror and fascination as he disappeared beneath the water, only to surface a few moments’ later, coughing and spluttering. He rose to his feet, standing thigh-deep in the fast-flowing water.

Kitty’s hands flew to her mouth. A fleeting, sickening dread that he might have been seriously hurt on the stony river bed was replaced with fear for her own safety as he stood braced against the current, glaring up at her through the heavy curtain of wet black hair that clung to his forehead. She swallowed, transported back to their very first meeting, when she had addressed him as a servant and he had scowled at her so blackly that she had been afraid he would drag her from the gig and strangle her. That fear of reprisals returned to her now. Then, to her astonishment, she saw the gleam of amusement in his eyes. He threw back his head and laughed. A deep, rich sound that drew a reluctant smile from her in response. ‘
Touché,
madam! No doubt you think that a sweet justice.’ He grinned up at her. ‘Do you consider yourself revenged now for my dropping you in that muddy ford?’

‘Well, yes,’ she replied frankly. ‘I do!’

She reached down her hand to him, but as soon as his
fingers curled around hers he gave a tug and she toppled off the bridge, landing with a splash in the water beside him.

‘Oh! Oh, you…you…!’ She spluttered and coughed as he pulled her to her feet beside him.

‘You did not think I would let you get away with that, did you?’

Kitty put up her hands to wipe the wet hair from her eyes, a furious retort rising to her lips, but it died when she saw him laughing down at her. A gurgle of laughter bubbled up inside her and instead of pushing Daniel away she found herself clinging to his arm, giggling helplessly.

Still laughing, they struggled to the bank and dragged themselves out, lying side by side on the short grass. Daniel reached for her hand.

‘I did not cry off from my engagement,’ he said, suddenly serious. ‘Neither did Ann. It was her brother who withdrew his consent.’

She sat up.

‘Lord Harworth? Why should he do that—oh, poor Ann!’

‘He objected to my liberal views. And you must not think Ann was heartbroken, I suspect she was as relieved as I was to be released from the engagement. She is thinking of marrying Leaconham.’

‘Garston!’ Kitty stared at him, astounded. ‘How could she prefer Garston to…?’

‘I am only too thankful that she does prefer him,’ retorted Daniel, pulling her down to him. ‘But that is not important now. What is important is that I am free.’ He reached up a hand and cupped her face, her wet hair clinging around his fingers. ‘Since neither Ann nor I cried off, you are not bound to refuse me.’ He gently pulled her face down and kissed her. ‘I love you, Kitty,’ he whispered. ‘Say yes. Say you will marry me.’

‘Oh, Daniel!’ Kitty stopped, unable to say more because of the constriction in her throat. Silently she nodded and with an exultant gasp Daniel pulled her back into his arms, rolling her beneath him as he covered her face with hot kisses.

‘Kitty, you are crying.’ He broke away. ‘Dearest, what is it?

She sat up, shaking her head.

‘N-nothing,’ she managed, smiling mistily through her tears. ‘It is j-just that I am s-so happy!’ The salty tears on her cheeks were hot and made her aware of her wet gown, which was rapidly cooling. ‘We must move, and quickly,’ she said, struggling to get up. ‘It will not do to grow chilled.’

‘We will call at the cottage,’ said Daniel, scrambling to his feet and nodding towards the little house at the top of the bank.

‘Your horse is still on the other side,’ she remarked.

Daniel gave a long whistle.

‘Marnie, come on, girl! Come!’ With a toss of her fine head the black mare stepped up to the bridge and daintily trotted across. ‘Horses are like women,’ he said, mischief glinting in his eyes. ‘Better when they are well trained.’

With a laugh he dodged the blow she aimed at him. Then, as she began to pummel him he caught her wrists and whipped her hands behind her back, pulling her against him and kissing her soundly.

‘How on earth am I to quarrel with you,’ she said severely, when at last she could speak again, ‘when you take such advantage of me?’