A Regency Baron's Bride: To Catch a Husband... / The Wicked Baron. Sarah Mallory
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way back to Lady Leaconham’s house, but all the time part of her mind was racing with conjecture about Daniel Blackwood. Just to know he was behind her made her spine tingle, as if he might pounce upon her at any moment. What was he doing in London, and what had happened to the rough country voice he had used in Yorkshire? She thought she knew the answer to her last question and her conscience pricked her when she remembered how uncivil she had been towards him. She had assumed he was a rough labourer and he had responded in kind. She deserved that trick, she acknowledged, but she had not deserved his subsequent treatment of her! Her indignation grew with every step and by the time they arrived at Lady Leaconham’s door Kitty was full of righteous fury. When they entered the hall she left all the explanations to Miss Harworth and stalked past the wooden-faced butler to hand Titan over to a hovering footman. By the time she turned back the rest of the party were divesting themselves of hats and surcoats. Daniel took advantage of the confusion to step up to her.
‘I have long wanted to offer you an apology, Miss Wythenshawe,’ he said quietly. ‘My actions when we last met were inexcusable.’
‘I do not want your apology!’ she said in a fierce whisper, and immediately regretted her incivility.
‘But I would like to make some recompense to you—I fear I ruined your gown—’
A mixture of anger and remorse combined in Kitty and she answered recklessly, ‘My gown is of no consequence. I have trunks full of clothes, so you need concern yourself no further with me!’
With that she put her nose in the air and sailed into the morning room.
***
‘After you, Blackwood.’
Lord Harworth was standing back, waiting for Daniel to follow the ladies.
‘Thank you, I really do not—’ Daniel bit off the words. He wanted to tell Harworth to go to the devil and storm out of the house, but that would be the height of incivility, and, however little Miss Wythenshawe might think of him, he had been brought up a gentleman and would act like one. Curbing his temper, he nodded and strode into the room, forcing himself to smile and say everything that was required of him, but all the time he was aware of Kitty standing in the corner, biting her lip and darting fiery looks at him from those stormy green eyes. He had offered her his apology and it had been rebuffed. He clenched his jaw, smiling with even more spurious interest at something Ann Harworth was saying. If the chit could not bring herself to act in a civilised manner than he would have to show her how it was done!
Kitty could barely suppress a sigh of relief when at last the visitors took their leave and it was the greatest trial for her to sit quietly while her godmama declared herself delighted with the success of the visit.
‘And what a sly little puss you are, my love,’ Lady Leaconham chuckled, tapping Kitty’s knuckles playfully with her fan. ‘I send you out for a little walk and you return with two eligible gentlemen in tow!’
‘Mr Blackwood is not in the least eligible,’ protested Kitty.
‘He is my nephew’s guest, is he not? To be sure a mill-owner’s son is not what your mama would like for you, but he is very gentlemanlike, and he is related to some of the wealthiest shipping families in Liverpool.’
‘It smacks of trade, Godmama.’
‘It smacks of a fortune, my dear,’ responded Lady Leaconham drily. ‘However, I will grant you that a man like Mr Blackwood should only be considered as a last resort. Lord Harworth would be a more prestigious match for you.’
‘He is indeed more what Mama had in mind,’ agreed Kitty. ‘But is he not a little … old, Godmama?’
‘At eight-and-thirty? Not at all, my love. It makes it all the more likely that he is looking in earnest for a wife. But we must be practical. Every cap in Town will be set at such an eligible parti. However, not every young lady will have an invitation to the Harworth ball, so I have great hopes for Friday, my love. Great hopes indeed!’
Any hopes Kitty might have had for her very first ball were eclipsed by apprehension. Mama had insisted that learning to dance was a prime requirement for every young lady but Kitty was very sure that dancing with the Squire’s daughters in the privacy of Fallridge Manor was a very different matter from standing up with a gentleman in a crowded ballroom. And she would have to stand up at least once because Lord Harworth, prompted by his sister, had requested that she save a dance for him.
When Friday arrived Kitty resolved to wear the evening gown that Mama had made for her rather than any of the dresses purchased by Lady Leaconham. Politely but firmly she rejected her godmother’s suggestions of the pink sarcenet or the blue spider gauze and insisted on wearing the simple white crape gown ornamented with silver embroidery to the sleeves and hem. Aunt Jane had embroidered a silk shawl to match and she had a pair of white satin dancing slippers to complete the ensemble. Kitty was quite satisfied with the result, but she was more than a little nervous when she joined her godmother in the drawing room
‘Well, Godmama, what do you think?’
She spread her skirts and gave a little twirl before fixing her anxious gaze upon Lady Leaconham.
‘To be sure it is a much simpler design than the evening gowns I had made for you,’ said my lady, studying her closely. Kitty held her breath. At length her godmother smiled. ‘But is looks quite perfect upon you, my love. And no one will recognise the seamstress, you may be sure of that.’ She blinked rapidly and began to hunt for her handkerchief. ‘You look like an angel, my dear.’
‘She does indeed!’
Kitty spun round to see a rather portly young gentleman in the doorway, regarding her through his quizzing glass.
‘Garston!’ Lady Leaconham flew up from her chair in a flutter of lace. ‘My dear boy, when did you return to Town?’
‘At noon, Mama,’ replied Lord Leaconham, suffering her embrace. ‘Thought I should come and tell you I was back. Didn’t know you had company …’
‘My love, this is my goddaughter Katherine, come to keep me company for a few weeks,’ said Lady Leaconham. ‘Kitty, my dear, allow me to present my son Garston to you.’
Kitty dropped into a curtsy, blushing a little as Lord Leaconham bowed over her hand.
‘Delighted, Miss Wythenshawe. Proule informs me that you are about to go out, so I know that all this splendour is not in my honour.’
‘We are off to Harworth House,’ replied Lady Leaconham, a note of triumph creeping into her voice. ‘Your cousin Ann has taken a great liking to dear Kitty. Why do you not come with us, my son? I am sure your aunt would have invited you, had she known you were back in Town.’
Lord Leaconham was still casting an admiring eye over Kitty, who found the prolonged scrutiny a little unnerving.
‘I am dining with friends at my club tonight but I may well look in later.’
‘Well, if you are coming, pray be in time to dance with Kitty and do not spend all your time in the supper room,’ replied his mother, picking up her wrap. ‘Now, we must be off. Come along, my dear, we will go downstairs to wait for the carriage.’
Lady Harworth might complain that her house was not situated on the magnificent west side of Cavendish Square but it seemed to Kitty that the whole of fashionable London was intent upon attending the ball. The square was crowded with vehicles. Coachmen and postillions traded insults while liveried footmen directed the carriages to the entrance before tenderly handing down the occupants and escorting them into the house.
Kitty followed Lady Leaconham up the wide sweeping staircase, her nervousness somewhat alleviated when she saw Ann waiting for her at the top of the stairs, a beaming smile upon her face as she held