Ann was waiting for Kitty when they arrived at Harworth House and she was profuse in her thanks to Kitty for her birthday gift.
‘Handkerchiefs!’ she cried, tearing off the wrapping paper. ‘Oh, how pretty, and you embroidered them yourself, did you not? How clever you are, Kitty! I do not have the patience for sewing, I rush my stitches too much, but these are exquisite, and just what I need. Thank you, my dear. Now, you must come and see the ballroom. Mama has lined it with ells and ells of blue silk draped across the ceiling to look like the summer sky. There.’ Ann stopped in the doorway. ‘What do you think of that?’
Kitty looked around her, amazed at the transformation of the elegant, rather austere ballroom with its pale walls and gilded plasterwork into a heavenly chamber. Candlelight from the chandeliers was reflected in the huge gilded mirrors that hung around the room and it glittered on the silver ribbons holding up the celestial blue silk. She glanced back at Ann, laughing.
‘It will be like dancing in the sky. And your dress is an exact match for the silk! How clever of you. The colouring is perfect with your fair hair.’
‘Thank you. Your own gown is very pretty, too.’
‘It is one of the gowns I brought with me from Yorkshire,’ explained Kitty. ‘I thought it the height of fashion until I arrived in Town and saw how high the waistlines had crept up, and how low the necklines had dropped!’
‘It is still very fashionable,’ Ann assured her. She put one hand to her bodice. ‘You do not think my gown too low cut? I know Mama would much prefer me to be wearing a high neckline such as yours—although at one and twenty perhaps I should be wearing a cap and sitting with the dowagers.’
They giggled at the thought.
‘No, your gown looks perfect on you,’ said Kitty. ‘I wish you enough partners to keep you dancing all night.’
‘Thank you, but we will not only be dancing,’ said Ann, leading her into the room. ‘There will be music and singing, too—I have asked Martin Hamilton to join me in a duet and I shall be playing a new piece I have learned for the harp. Do you play or sing?’
‘A little, but not well enough to perform here without practice. Pray do not suggest to anyone that I should do so!’
‘No, of course not, if that is your wish.’ Ann grabbed her hand again and dragged her across the room towards the tall windows. ‘Let me show you the garden while the servants bring in chairs for the recital. Mama has had lamps strung between the trees and along the paths, and as darkness falls they will all be lighted so that the guests may step out of the room on to the terrace and even walk down into the cool garden. Aren’t you glad the evening is so warm? It means that the windows can remain open: I do not know what we would have done if it had rained today.’ Ann led the way on to the terrace and down the steps to the garden. ‘I used to play here in the garden when I was a child. Look, my swing is still there, hanging from that tall beech tree. And come and look at the pretty little summer house. It is built in the style of a Roman temple.’ She led Kitty through the trees. ‘I wanted Mama to hang lamps in here, too,’ said Ann, dancing between the pillars before sitting down on the wooden bench that ran along the back wall. ‘Mama refused, saying she did not wish her guests to wander so far from the main path.’
‘They should not need to,’ observed Kitty, sitting down beside her friend. ‘The flower gardens are delightful, and there are more than enough paths to accommodate everyone.’
Ann jumped up. ‘I suppose we must go back. I have no doubt most of the guests will have arrived by now and Bertram will want to secure a dance with you.’
‘Oh, I expect he is far too busy to think of that.’
Ann stopped.
‘No, Kitty, he is very taken with you!’ She caught Kitty’s hand. ‘Come along, let’s find him.’
They hurried back to the house and were running up the steps to the terrace when a figure stepped out from one of the long windows and blocked their way.
‘Miss Harworth.’ Daniel bowed. ‘I believe your brother is looking for you.’ His dark, unsmiling gaze moved to Kitty. ‘Miss Wythenshawe.’
Kitty inclined her head. She put one hand on the stone balustrade to steady herself. She could not deny the sudden bolt of pleasure at the sight of his tall, elegant figure but she was determined not to reveal how much his presence unsettled her. His athletic form was well suited to the tight-fitting black evening coat and satin knee-breeches and his hair, brushed until it glowed, glinted blue-black in the evening sunlight. She tried desperately to think of something witty to say, but her brain refused to work.
‘Mr Blackwood!’ Ann exclaimed. ‘I was not expecting you to be here tonight. Bertram said you had other plans for this evening.’
‘I changed them.’ He looked at Kitty. ‘I set off for Yorkshire tomorrow and Lady Harworth persuaded me to join you for one last evening.’
‘I am very glad she did so,’ replied Ann, voicing Kitty’s thoughts, although with perhaps a little less intensity than Kitty was feeling. ‘We are going to have such a jolly time, I know you will enjoy it.’
Kitty followed Ann back into the house, her spirits unaccountably lifted by the knowledge that Daniel was present. She found herself looking forward to the evening.
When Ann left to prepare for her harp recital, Kitty went off to find her godmother. As she stood wondering in which direction to go first, a passing waiter mistook her hesitation and held out his tray towards her. It was her custom at such parties to drink lemonade or orgeat but there was only wine in the glasses in front of her. Rather than refuse and wave him away, she picked up a glass and moved on. She was searching the crowd for the tall purple ostrich feathers adorning Lady Leaconham’s turban but they were nowhere to be seen and she wandered through the reception rooms, which were growing more crowded by the minute. As Kitty eased herself past a particularly tall, rotund gentleman she found herself face to face with Daniel. He bowed and she was emboldened to stop.
‘So you are going home, Mr Blackwood. Is your work here concluded?’
‘It is.’
His response was curt but she pressed on, knowing it might be her last chance to talk to him.
‘And are Lord Harworth’s plans for a new spinning mill complete?’
‘The mill? No, but I can do no more until I have seen the site.’
‘You did not come to London solely to advise Lord Harworth, I think.’ His brows drew together and she added quickly, ‘You were staying at Greenwich when you first came to Town.’
‘You remember that, do you?’ His distant, shuttered expression softened into one of surprised amusement. ‘My family has connections with several shipping families, and not only in Liverpool. With the unrest in France it is important we keep our shipping routes open.’
‘But you use local wool in your mills, do you not, Mr Blackwood?’
‘We spin worsted,’ he corrected her. ‘It is from the longer fibres of the wool: a fine, strong yarn suitable for greatcoats and pelisses but not the soft, fine cloth you would want to wear next to your skin.’
Something happened to Kitty’s breathing. She had been listening to Daniel with interest but now, watching him, she had a sudden conviction that he was imagining her naked, draped only in a soft woollen shift. Perhaps it was the way his voice slowed and deepened as he finished his sentence, or the dangerously dark look in his eyes as they moved over her body. She was afraid to look down lest she discover that her fine, opaque muslin gown had disappeared. The air crackled around them, heavy and charged with an excitement. Daniel had brought his eyes back to her face and was staring at her with such intensity she thought she must burn up. It seemed a lifetime before Daniel looked away. He seemed to gather himself, giving a very slight shake of the head before he cleared his throat, saying brusquely,
‘We…um…we export much of our cloth. And we have the cotton mills, too, that depend upon imports.’
‘I beg your pardon,’ said Kitty, trying to speak normally yet aware that her cheeks were aflame. ‘I fear I am very ignorant of what you do.’
He shrugged.
‘Manufacturing is not something often discussed in society’s drawing rooms.’
‘Very true, unlike politics!’ declared Lord Harworth, coming up and overhearing this last remark. ‘Although some like to keep silent on their true opinions.’
‘I admit my views are more…reformist than yours, my lord,’ said Daniel. He was smiling slightly and Kitty wondered if he, too, was glad that the conversation had moved on. ‘But I would not be so ill-mannered as to quarrel with my host.’
‘No, damn your impudence, but you didn’t offer up the information when we first met, did you?’
‘The subject did not arise,’ was Daniel’s mild reply.
Lord Harworth laughed heartily and clapped him on the shoulder.
‘Very true, my boy! I suppose I was too keen to discuss building my mill to think of anything else!’ He turned to Kitty. ‘Miss Wythenshawe, did Blackwood tell you he was in favour of Grey’s motion for electoral reform? Dashed poppycock. Wasn’t best pleased when I found he had come to London to offer his support to Grey, but in the end it all came to nothing, so I didn’t have to throw him out of the house.’
Lord Harworth threw back his head and laughed at his own joke. Daniel merely shrugged.
‘I made no secret of it, nor of the fact that I would like to see the laws against Nonconformists and Catholics relaxed.’
‘Whatever his faults, Pitt won’t make a stand on that in the present climate,’ returned Lord Harworth, shaking his head. ‘He’s too busy making sure we avoid a revolution like the one in France.’
‘Do you think there is any risk of such a thing?’ asked Kitty.
‘Not if we contain the mob and keep the poor in their place,’ replied Lord Harworth.
‘Surely the poor should be encouraged to better themselves,’ put in Kitty. ‘We should educate them; teach the parents to read, perhaps, and open schools for the children…’
‘Now, now, Miss Wythenshawe,’ cried Lord Harworth genially, ‘you are beginning to sound very like Blackwood here!’
‘So I have found you at last, my love!’ Lady Leaconham’s exclamation forestalled Kitty’s response. She addressed their host with a soft laugh. ‘You must forgive my goddaughter, Bertram, she does not understand the complications of politics. You know what young ladies are, their kind hearts rule their heads and they are all too fond of expressing opinions on matters they know little about.’ Kitty opened her mouth to protest but met with a warning glance from Lady Leaconham, who pinched her arm and began to pull her away. ‘Come, Kitty, my love, we must find a seat in readiness for the recital. I believe Lady Celestine is to play for us upon the pianoforte, including something by Signor Clementi and I know you have been practising one of his pieces yourself…’
As she was almost dragged away, Kitty cast one last look back at Daniel. He met her eyes for an instant and nodded. Perhaps that earlier, incendiary moment between them had been in her imagination: certainly he gave no sign of it now, only reassurance that he understood what she had been trying to say and did not regard her as a foolish young girl, talking out of turn. The thought warmed her as she sat beside Lady Leaconham, listening to a series of musical performances including Ann’s lively if not always accurate rendition on the harp of a piece by Mr Handel.
When at last everyone who wished to perform had done so, Lady Harworth announced that the room would be cleared for dancing. Ann was nowhere to be seen, so Kitty followed her godmother away to the supper room in search of refreshments. She saw Daniel standing alone and could not resist taking the opportunity to speak to him again. She refused to be intimidated by the rather severe cast of his countenance as he sipped at his wine: she was growing used to his sober mien and the fact that he was not scowling blackly she took as a good sign.
Daniel’s heart sank as he saw Kitty coming towards him. Damnation. Surely his expression should tell her he did not want to speak to her—did the woman not know the effect she had upon him? His irritation passed. Of course not: she was such an innocent she did not realise how adorable she looked, gliding about the room in a cloud of pale gauze, curls tumbling artlessly about her head and her green eyes sparkling like emeralds. She attracted every man’s eye, made every male pulse race. She had no idea that while he was trying to talk to her about serious subjects such as spinning and exports all he really wanted to do was to take her off somewhere and ravish her! She had told him herself that she was set on achieving a good marriage, possibly even ensnaring a lord, so he should not waste his time even thinking about such a woman. The problem was that he could not help himself. He squared his shoulders: he was no moth to perish at her flame—this would be the last time he spoke to her. After that he would make damned sure he kept away from Miss Kitty Wythenshawe.
Daniel schooled his features into what he hoped was a look of polite indifference as she came up to him, refusing to allow himself to respond to her shy smile.
‘What time do you leave tomorrow, sir?’
‘Directly after breakfast. I am travelling on horseback and expect to make good time.’ He paused. ‘And you, Miss Wythenshawe? Do you remain in Town?’
‘I do not think my godmother has plans to leave just yet.’
‘Perhaps she is remaining here in the hope that Harworth will offer for you.’ He clipped off the words, angry that he had spoken of it. He had meant to remain aloof, to cut short this conversation and move away from her. Kitty did not appear to notice the bitterness of his tone and merely shook her head.
‘I do not think that is likely.’
‘But you would accept him, if he did propose to you?’ She hesitated.
‘Yes. I do not think I have a choice.’
Daniel put his glass down with a snap; the tight rein on his temper had slipped a little further.
‘We all have a choice, Miss Wythenshawe,’ he said harshly.
Blinking, Kitty watched him walk away. She was confused by his anger: could it be that he did not wish her to marry Lord Harworth? Why should that be—did he not consider her good enough for his friend? Or—her mouth was suddenly very dry—could it be that he was jealous? Absently she took another glass of wine from a passing waiter. She must be mistaken: Daniel had never shown any sign of preferring her. In fact he went out of his way to quarrel with her every time they met—with the exception of that evening at the Rising Sun.
They had agreed the events of that evening meant nothing, but a tiny spark of excitement flickered within her as she accompanied Lady Leaconham back into the ballroom. If he liked her, if he wanted to talk to her, then surely he would ask her to dance with him.
Lady Harworth brought a young gentleman forwards to partner her for the first two country dances, then Lord Harworth claimed her hand for the next. From the corner of her eye she saw Daniel watching the dancing, and her spirits lifted when he led Ann on to the floor to join the next set. Kitty finished her last dance with Lord Harworth, who then asked his sister to be his partner. They went off, laughing, and Kitty waited expectantly. Daniel hovered for a moment then, his face set, he made his bow and walked away.
Disappointment and humiliation seared through Kitty. Tears threatened but she fought them down. She had been foolish to hope that he liked her. Daniel Blackwood had never given her reason to think it, save for one, fierce kiss that had shaken her to the core but obviously meant nothing to him. She put back her shoulders and pinned a smile in place as she walked across to join her godmother at the side of the room. If he did not wish to pursue the acquaintance, then neither did she.
‘There you are, Kitty. I have someone here who is anxious to dance with you.’ Ann came up, dragging a stocky young gentleman behind her. ‘This is Mr Leonard Ashley, Kitty. You may remember he came to our picnic.’
‘By Jove, yes!’ declared the young man, making her a flourishing bow. ‘I’d be honoured if you would stand up with me for the next set, Miss Wythenshawe.’
Kitty looked at the young man. She remembered him from Wormley Hall as the gentleman who had made such disparaging remarks about Mr Grant’s poetry. Her impression then had been of a very square gentleman, for he was not above average height with a broad chest and a thick neck. That impression was reinforced now when she saw him in evening dress. He wore a bushy curled wig that made his head as wide as it was long. He was regarding her with blatant admiration in his rather small eyes. It was nearing midnight but Kitty was still smarting from Daniel’s defection and she ignored the small voice within that urged caution. Mr Ashley’s attentions were balm to her wounded spirits.
‘Why, thank you, sir.’ She gave him a wide smile. ‘It would be my pleasure.’
Mr Ashley bowed again.
‘Is it not the most wonderful party, Kitty?’ cried Ann, clapping her hands. ‘I vow I am quite out of breath with dancing so much, but I would not have it otherwise—oh, Bertram!’ She looked up, smiling. ‘What are you come for? If it is to ask Kitty to dance then you are too late, for you see that Mr Ashley has beaten you to it! Now, I have danced with Martin Hamilton, and George Camber—who else is there? Ah, yes, I must go and find Julian Grant: he is promised to me for the next dance.’
‘If he can tear himself away from his poetry!’ replied Mr Ashley with a loud snort of laughter.
Ann dashed away, leaving Kitty feeling quite breathless. She had time for a small, apologetic smile for Lord Harworth before Mr Ashley escorted her to the dance floor just as the musicians were striking up. Two energetic country dances followed and at the end of them Kitty was feeling flushed and very warm. She moved towards one of the open windows, fanning herself vigorously while her partner went off to fetch her a glass of lemonade. She could not see Daniel anywhere and wondered if he had gone out into the garden, where the coloured lamps shone brightly in the darkness. Not that she really cared where he might be. The sooner he took himself back to the north the happier she would be. A movement beside her made her turn and she found Mr Ashley had returned and was holding out a wine glass.
‘Oh, but I wanted lemonade.’
‘I know and I am very sorry for it but I could only find this.’ Mr Ashley pushed the glass towards her. ‘It is champagne—have you tried it?’
‘But of course.’ Kitty raised her brows and tried to look as if she drank champagne every day. She took the glass from him and sipped it cautiously. The light, refreshing taste was very pleasant. She took another sip: the way the bubbles burst on her tongue was really quite delightful. She drank some more and gave a sigh of satisfaction.
‘It really is frightfully hot in here,’ remarked Mr Ashley. ‘Would you care to take a stroll outside?’
He was smiling at her and holding out his arm. Kitty looked out of the window. Below the terrace she could see a number of couples wandering along the illuminated paths. ‘I should like to see the lamps,’ she admitted. She put down her glass, pulled her thin wrap over her shoulders and gave him a smile. ‘So, yes, Mr Ashley, I would like to walk through the gardens.’
It was the work of an instant to step out on to the terrace, and another to descend into the gardens, where the night air was cool after the heat of the ballroom. For a moment Kitty felt quite dizzy.
‘Steady, Miss Wythenshawe!’ Mr Ashley laughed as she clung to his arm.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she muttered, breathing deeply as she tried to control her balance.
The gardens of Harworth House were extensive and the paths criss-crossed between the flowerbeds that filled the centre space. The area was bounded by the house on one side and the high walls on the other three sides were obscured by a belt of tall trees. It was from the branches of the innermost trees that the coloured lamps twinkled and shone. As they strolled along the outer path, Kitty could hear laughter and voices coming from the darkness. Peering through the gloom, she could just make out a ghostly figure moving gently back and forwards, a noisy group of gentlemen gathered around her.
‘Ann is on the swing,’ she remarked, pausing. ‘Shall we join her?’
‘Oh, I think not,’ said her companion, gently drawing her on. ‘I do not think she is in need of our company. Let us explore.’ He led her away from the house until they reached a point where the main path turned to follow the edge of the flowerbeds, while a smaller track stretched off into the trees. ‘I wonder where this leads?’
‘To the summerhouse,’ Kitty responded. ‘I saw it earlier.’
‘Splendid, just what we need.’
Kitty did not understand the remark but she accompanied him along the path and up the shallow steps. The light from the coloured lamps had not penetrated the trees and Kitty stopped between the tall pillars, loath to enter the shadows beyond.
‘I do not think our hostess intended the guests to come here,’ she said, trying to withdraw her hand from his arm. Mr Ashley gripped her fingers.
‘Not all of them,’ he replied. ‘But now we are here, perhaps we should make the most of the solitude.’
He pulled her into his arms and with a jolt of surprise Kitty realised he was going to kiss her. She had experienced none of the awareness she had felt when alone with Daniel at the Rising Sun: there was no pleasant if guilty anticipation. Quite the opposite—she felt a definite aversion to the idea. She turned her head and tried to hold him off, but he was too strong and merely laughed at her struggles.
‘Do not play the innocent now, Miss Wythenshawe. We both know this is why we came out into the dark!’ He pushed her back against one of the pillars, trapping her with his body while his hand caught her face, turning it up so that he could kiss her.
Kitty shuddered and tried to pull away but she was powerless to move. She felt his knee pushing between her legs while his free hand began to pull up her skirts.
Thoroughly frightened, her hands pummelled ineffectually at his back. But her struggles only seemed to inflame him; his mouth moved savagely against hers and through the thin muslin of her gown she could feel his body hardening. Her knowledge of the coupling between a man and a woman was incomplete, gleaned from the books she had read and a few overheard conversations between Mama and Aunt Jane, but instinct told Kitty that Mr Ashley was beyond reason and meant to force himself upon her. In a panic she brought up her hand and raked her nails down his cheek. He gave a howl of fury and, gathering up all her strength, Kitty pushed him off enough to wriggle free. There was a ripping sound as his fingers caught the delicate lace of her bodice. She had barely reached the bottom of the steps when his hand grabbed her arm. ‘Oh, no, you don’t. I haven’t finished with you yet.’
He tried to pull her back but Kitty’s knees buckled and she sank to the earth, too exhausted to fight him again. She shrank from his loathsome touch.
‘Take your hands off her!’
The words cracked like a whip through the darkness. The grasp on her arm loosened.
‘Who the hell are—?’
The smack of a fist on his chin sent Mr Ashley crashing to the ground. Silence followed, then Kitty was aware of a pair of white-stockinged legs standing before her. Strong hands were helping her to her feet.
‘Are you hurt?’ Daniel’s voice was full of concern. Kitty shook her head, unable to trust her voice. Behind her she heard her assailant grunting and she shrank against Daniel. He put his arms around her and spoke over her head, saying coldly, ‘You will leave now, sir, if you know what’s good for you.’
His tone was so menacing that Kitty trembled. From the corner of her eye she saw Mr Ashley dust himself off, glaring at them.
‘She was willing enough,’ he said sullenly. ‘Why else would she come off the path with me—?’
With a growl Daniel released Kitty and lunged towards his opponent, but Kitty clung on to his coat, begging him not to fight. He stopped, saying savagely, ‘I suggest you take yourself off immediately, before I forget there is a lady present and give you the thrashing you deserve.’
Mr Ashley hesitated, glaring pugnaciously at Daniel. ‘Take her then, and welcome to her,’ he snarled. ‘Strumpet!’
Daniel moved so quickly that Kitty did not have time to protest. Again there was a sickening thud and again Ashley was stretched out on the ground. This time Daniel stood over him, his fists clenched.
‘You will leave the house now, sir, and if I ever find that you have spoken a word about this, I swear I will call you out and cut you down like a dog.’
Daniel spoke quietly, but there was so much menace in his voice that his opponent made no attempt to rise. Instead he scrabbled away on all fours until he was out of reach of those punishing fists before clambering to his feet and hurrying away.
In the silence that followed Kitty did not move. Daniel turned back to her.
‘He is gone now. You are safe.’ He held out his hand. ‘Shall I take you back?’
Kitty shook her head.
‘N-no, not yet. I do not think I could face…’ Her voice trailed away. With shaking fingers she lifted the shred of muslin that was hanging down from her gown and pulled it across the exposed linen of her under-bodice.
‘Here, let me.’ Daniel scooped her muslin shawl from the ground and wrapped it about her shoulders. ‘If we cross it like this and tie the ends at the back, no one will know there is anything amiss.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course, how…how sensible. Why did I not think of that?’ She put a hand up to adjust the folds of the shawl but her fingers shook too much to be of use.
‘You are trembling.’ He took her arm. ‘There is a bench in the summerhouse. You must sit down until you are feeling better.’
He led her into the little shelter and guided her to the seat. She clutched at his arm.
‘Do not leave me!’ Her voice shook pitifully and she was relieved when he sat down beside her.
‘I am not about to leave you.’
‘I d-did not know what he was going to do.’ Kitty leaned against his shoulder, the soft, fine wool of his evening coat beneath her cheek. ‘He s-seemed such a gentleman.’
She felt him take a long breath, as if controlling his anger.
‘Have you not learned yet that it is dangerous to be alone with any man?’
‘There were so many people in the gardens, I didn’t think we were alone. I thought it would be quite safe…’ She shuddered. ‘It was horrible—’
‘Hush now.’ He put his arm around her. ‘He is gone.’
She gave a sob and turned her face into his coat, one hand clutching at his jacket.
‘I am so ashamed! To put myself into such a situation—I feel so foolish!’
‘The fellow will say nothing, you may be sure of that. And no one else need know anything about it.’
‘But you will know,’ she said in a low voice. ‘I did not w-want you to think ill of me.’
With a soft laugh he held her away from him and drew a handkerchief out of his pocket.
‘I do not think ill of you,’ he said, taking her chin between his fingers and turning her face up so he could wipe her cheeks. ‘I think ill of that blackguard for his behaviour.’
He had turned her face to catch what little light there was and Kitty kept very still, gazing up into his shadowed countenance. Mr Ashley was forgotten. She was only aware of being very close to Daniel, of his thigh pressed against hers, his fingers holding her chin, the soft scented handkerchief sliding gently over her cheeks. She was tingling through the length of her body and her heart had begun to thud painfully against her ribs. Nervously she ran her tongue across her lips.
‘Don’t do that!’ ordered Daniel.
Her eyes widened. Her tongue flickered again over her lips before she could speak.
‘Do what? I do not understand you.’
He dropped the handkerchief and cupped her face in his hands, running his thumb gently along her bottom lip.
‘Kitty, you little witch, stop it! You have no idea how adorable you are.’ His voice had softened and the words wrapped themselves around her, deep and warm as he said, ‘You do not know how much I want to kiss you.’
She might not have known the perils of stepping off the path with Mr Ashley, but Kitty was well aware of the danger Daniel posed to her. It was not safe to be alone with him. She should run back to the safety of the crowded salon, but the temptation to move even closer to Daniel was far, far too strong.
Torn between what she wanted to do and what she should do, Kitty did nothing. She remained very still, gazing up into Daniel’s dark eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands on her face, aching for the touch of his lips against hers.
It never came. He gave a slight shake of his head; she heard a long exhalation as he gathered her in his arms and pulled her close.
‘For me to take advantage of this moment would make me an even bigger scoundrel than the fool I found molesting you. We would both regret it, for I am going north tomorrow and you…’ she felt his chest rise and fall on another sigh ‘…you are going to find a lord to marry.’
‘You must think me very mercenary,’ she whispered.
He laid his cheek briefly against her hair.
‘No, you are doing the same as every other young lady in the Town; the difference is that you are honest about your goals. So I wish you well with your quest, Miss Katherine Wythenshawe.’
‘You do?’ Safe within his arms, Kitty turned her face up to look at him.
‘Of course.’ Daniel did not glance down but continued to gaze out through the trees towards the starry sky. ‘Harworth is already showing an interest in you. With his fortune he has no need to marry money. He is a gentleman and I believe he will treat you well. What more could you want?’
A cloud had settled over Kitty’s spirits. Perhaps everything she had hoped for was within her grasp but here, now, sitting in the little stone temple with Daniel, all she knew was that he was leaving in the morning and she would never see him again.
‘You have been very kind to me, Mr Blackwood.’
‘It is nothing.’
His dismissive tone was unsettling. She wanted to thank him, to make him know how much she would miss him. He was still gazing out at the night sky and suddenly Kitty was overwhelmed by the desire to kiss him. She lifted her head and strained to touch her mouth to the only bare flesh she could reach, the soft hinge where the column of his throat rose up from the folds of his snowy neckcloth and met the strong line of his jaw. A steady pulse was beating there and she felt it jump when her lips grazed his skin. He drew back and stared down at her, deep shadows concealing his expression.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she whispered. ‘I know I should not—’
Her words were cut short as he bent his head and covered her mouth with his own. Like a spark in a tinderbox the white-hot flame of desire ignited within her. She clung to him as a drowning man might cling to a wooden spar. Indeed, she felt as if she was drowning in the pleasure of his kiss, which seemed to tug at her very soul. He teased her lips apart and began to explore her mouth with his tongue. The wild pleasure at her core intensified, pooling somewhere between her thighs. Her hips tilted restlessly towards him. His hold tightened and he pulled her on to his lap. He began to cover her face with kisses, then his mouth moved over the line of her jaw and trailed down the column of her neck, the feather-light touch of his lips making her moan with pleasure.
Gently he pushed aside the muslin shawl that he himself had tied over her shoulders. Little shivers of excitement coursed through Kitty as his fingers brushed her skin. The moonlight glinted on his hair as he bent his head to kiss the soft swell of her breast at the point where it emerged from the confining stays. She arched towards him, gasping. Every inch of her was alive and aching to be touched. If he had started to undress her there and then on the bench she would not have resisted him.
‘Oh, Daniel!’
The words were little more than a breath. She ran her fingers through his silky hair, trailing them across his cheek as he raised his head.
‘This has gone far enough,’ he said, his voice cracking with strain. ‘I came here to your rescue, not to ruin you.’
‘Perhaps I do not wish to be rescued,’ she whispered, her hand cupping his cheek, trying to draw him back down to her.
With a sigh Daniel slid her off his lap. The jolt of hitting the hard wooden bench was sobering. The thrilling tingle was replaced by the sudden, stark realisation of her situation. She put her hands to her mouth.
‘Oh, heavens, what have I done?’
Daniel was adjusting his coat but he paused at her anguished cry.
‘Why, you have done nothing, my dear. Yet. That is why I must get you back to the house before it is too late.’
Tears burned Kitty’s eyes. She felt chilled, unwanted. Undesirable.
‘Come.’ He held out his hand to her. ‘We will slip back on to the path and no one will be any the wiser. Your reputation will be secure.’
Kitty tried to stand. She was surprised to find her legs still obeyed her will. She put up a hand to straighten the folds of her shawl but Daniel reached out and grasped her fingers.
‘It looks very well,’ he assured her. ‘Come now, we must get back to the house.’
He led her through the trees and they stepped out on to the deserted path. He pulled her arm through his just as another couple came into view. Raising his voice, he said loudly, ‘The grounds were designed by Switzer some sixty years ago for the third Baron Harworth, you know. A little formal for our modern tastes, but delightful nevertheless.’
Kitty replied in kind, conscious of the chattering couples around them. The air was suddenly very heavy and oppressive, weighing down on her spirits. She was relieved to hear a low rumble of thunder in the distance.
‘A storm.’ She looked up. ‘I am glad it is not my imagination. I thought perhaps this oppression was some terrible presentiment of my disgrace.’
He glanced down at her.
‘It is no such thing. I am returning you to the house with your reputation—and your dreams—intact.’
Not my dreams!
The words echoed through Kitty’s head. She realised with a bitter clarity that her duty and her dreams were two vastly different things.
As they approached the terrace the laughter and chatter from the ballroom spilled out towards them. Everyone sounded so happy, so different from the tumult of regret, misery and despair that warred within Kitty. She stopped at the bottom step and Daniel turned to look at her, his brows raised in enquiry.
‘Pray, Dan—Mr Blackwood, let us take our leave of each other here.’
‘If you wish.’
She put out her hand.
‘Then, goodbye, sir. I wish you a safe journey tomorrow, and…and thank you.’ She added, determined to be truthful, ‘I am only sorry our first meetings were so…stormy.’
He carried her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss upon her fingers.
‘We made a wretched beginning, did we not? For my part in that I humbly apologise, Miss Wythenshawe.’
‘I should like to have known you better,’ she confessed.
He gave her a wry smile.
‘Nay, ma’am, how should that be? When tha’art a fine lady and meself but a manufacturer!’
‘Will you never forgive me for that slight?’
‘It is no slight,’ he told her. ‘I am proud of what I am.’
And I am ashamed I ever thought ill of you!
She wanted to utter the words but a sudden flurry of laughter told her that another couple was upon them, pushing past to ascend the steps. The moment for confession was gone.
Daniel took her arm and led her up to the terrace. Lady Leaconham and her sister were standing by one of the open windows, fanning themselves vigorously.
‘So there you are, Kitty!’ cried Lady Harworth, reaching out for her. ‘The dancing finished some time ago and your godmother has been looking for you.’
‘I beg your pardon, I—’
‘The blame is mine,’ Daniel interrupted her smoothly. ‘I persuaded Miss Wythenshawe to give me the pleasure of her company in the gardens.’ He gave Lady Harworth the benefit of his rare, charming smile. ‘We have been admiring the decorative lamps, ma’am.’
‘They are very pretty, are they not?’ replied his hostess, beaming. ‘I have been very pleased with the effect and will use them again, I think. Not this Season, of course, for the house will soon be shut up for the summer.’
‘They were a splendid idea, my lady, and one I will take back to the Holme,’ said Daniel. ‘I think my mother will like the idea of being able to use the garden on warm summer nights. And I have no doubt my sister will consider it a splendid notion!’
‘Sisters, hah!’ chuckled Lord Harworth, coming up at that moment. ‘They are always troublesome at parties, ain’t that so, ma’am?’
Lady Harworth looked a little put out but she managed a smile.
‘Alas, young people can get a little out of hand,’ she admitted. Lady Leaconham’s politely enquiring look obliged her to continue. ‘I had to send Bertram out to fetch Ann away from the swing, Letitia. That little group was becoming far too raucous.’
Lady Leaconham smiled and tucked her hand through Kitty’s arm.
‘I am pleased to think my dear Kitty was not of their number.’
‘No, she preferred to stroll in the gardens with a handsome young man, ain’t that so, Miss Wythenshawe?’ said Lord Harworth, clearly in the best of spirits. ‘And I have no doubt that Blackwood, the young dog, was trying to cut me out!’
‘No such thing, my lord, I assure you,’ returned Daniel.
With another fat chuckle his host gave him a playful punch in the ribs.
‘Oh, don’t stiffen up so, my boy, I am roasting you—I know I have nothing to fear from you! I am delighted that you showed Miss Wythenshawe the gardens. As host I am afraid I did not have as much time to spare for my own pleasures as I would have liked.’ He beamed at Kitty for a few moments. ‘So you see, Blackwood, I am grateful to you, truly I am!’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
Kitty watched as Daniel gave a stiff little bow to include them all and walked away. She felt very low. A cold chill had settled around her heart, like the mist that sometimes clung to the moors, blotting out the sun for days on end. He was leaving. They would not meet again and she must smile and say all that was proper as she followed her godmother through the crowded rooms to take their leave. They had reached the hall and were waiting for their wraps to be fetched before Lady Leaconham turned to give Kitty a long look.
‘My child, I did not like to say anything before my sister, for I would not draw it to her attention, but what are you doing with your shawl crossed over your bosom in that fashion? It makes you look like a matron rather than a young lady in her first Season.’
Kitty had been expecting the question and had had time to work on her explanation, but she could not prevent the colour stealing into her cheeks.
‘I spilled red wine on my bodice, Godmama. It looked very unsightly.’
‘Oh, I see. Well, we must see if Meakin can wash it out when we get home—’ She broke off as the footmen arrived with their cloaks and Kitty hoped she would say no more about it, but when they were shut up in the carriage and making the short journey back to Portman Square Lady Leaconham said suddenly, ‘Just when did you spill the wine, my love? I hope you were not…carousing with Mr Blackwood.’
‘No, ma’am. It was Mr Ashley.’ Kitty was not sorry she could put some of the blame for the spoiled gown in its rightful place. ‘He offered to fetch me some refreshment and I had asked for lemonade…’
Lady Leaconham gave a little huff of displeasure.
‘My sister has only herself to blame if Ann and her friends grow a little wild at these parties,’ she said severely. ‘It is always a mistake to allow young people too much freedom. And the idea of encouraging guests to walk in the gardens! I cannot pretend that I am very happy about you going off with Mr Blackwood, but there were so many people strolling out of doors I am sure there was no harm in it.’
‘No, Godmama. And you need not worry about Mr Blackwood. He is leaving for the north in the morning.’
‘Yes, so I understand, and a very good thing, too. I know I am very much obliged to him for his services to us at Barnet, but I would not have him set himself up as a rival to Lord Harworth for your affections. I admit I was encouraged by the number of compliments I received upon your behalf this evening, my love, and several gentleman commented most favourably about you, but I have hinted them away, for the present. I will not say anything too final, of course, until we are sure of Harworth, but I am satisfied he is very interested in you.’
‘Thank you, Godmama.’
‘So you must be careful to keep gentlemen like Mr Blackwood at a distance in future, my love.’
‘Since Mr Blackwood will be hundreds of miles away I think that is distance enough, Godmama, do not you?’ replied Kitty, trying to make light of a fact that weighed on her spirits.
‘Well, of course it is, for the next two weeks, until Lord Harworth goes north, but he is sure to come to Kirkleigh to discuss Bertram’s schemes for his new mill.’ Kitty shrugged.
‘That can have nothing to do with us, Godmama.’
‘Heavens, child, if he would be confined to the steward’s office I should not worry, but you have seen how Harworth treats him, almost as an equal! He lives too close to be invited to stay, so that’s a mercy, but Bertram will ask him to dine with us, I am sure.’ She paused, frowning at Kitty’s look of bewilderment. Then her brow cleared. ‘But of course, you do not know, for you were not with me when the invitation was issued. My sister has invited us to spend the summer with her at Kirkleigh! You look amazed and well you might! I have no doubt that it was Bertram that put her up to it and all because of you, you clever little puss! We are to go to Yorkshire.’
‘No!’
‘Yes! It is all arranged, we are to follow a fortnight after my sister. Garston, too, is coming with us and there is every reason to believe that Harworth means to propose to you!’