A Regency Baron's Bride: To Catch a Husband... / The Wicked Baron. Sarah Mallory
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sorbets and sweetmeats, but fewer of them.’
***
It was agreed they should take Kitty to Portman Square before Daniel escorted Ann and her maid back to Harworth House.
‘There is no point in your coming back with me just to go home again,’ reasoned Ann.
The carriage rolled up to the door of Lady Leaconham’s house and Daniel jumped down, ready to hand Kitty out of the carriage.
‘Now remember, Kitty, tell no one where we have been tonight!’ Ann warned her, but Kitty hardly heard the words. She was very conscious of her hand lying snug in Daniel’s strong grip as he helped her to alight and she was not a little alarmed at the effect his proximity was having upon her breathing.
‘Well, Miss Wythenshawe, will your conscience allow you to lie?’
She saw the gleam of amusement in his eyes. There was no animosity there, no attempt to belittle her. She ventured a small smile.
‘I shall do my best to avoid the subject.’ She added, as he had done, ‘Unless I am taxed directly!’
He executed a little bow and squeezed her fingers. Kitty dropped a curtsy. Peeping up at him, she found he was smiling down at her and she was unable to tear her eyes away. She wanted to speak, but words would not come to her. The breath caught in her throat: some silent message was passing between them. She could not comprehend it, but it left her excited, exhilarated and frightened, all at the same time. Her pulse was galloping, thudding through her body. Did he feel it, too?
‘Kitty, make sure you tell Aunt Leaconham to look out for Mama’s letter, inviting you both to our picnic.’ Ann’s voice from the carriage recalled Kitty’s wandering senses. With a final, tremulous smile she pulled her fingers free and hurried indoors, hoping the servants would not notice her burning cheeks.
Daniel climbed back into the carriage. He was only dimly aware of Ann chattering away to her maid in the corner. In his mind he was going over again the recent exchange with Kitty. So there was another side to the proud and disdainful Miss Wythenshawe. She appeared to be deeply affected by what she had heard at the meeting. Not that there was anything so unusual there, for Clarkson was a great orator and could soften the hardest heart, but what she had told him of her father hinted at deep-seated liberal opinions, something he had not even guessed at.
There had also been a moment of shared humour. Daniel flexed his fingers, feeling again the shock of excitement he had experienced when he had taken her hand. His reaction unsettled him, the more so because it was very rare for him not to be fully in control of any situation. Silently he stared out of the window: he was intrigued to learn more of Miss Kitty Wythenshawe.
Two days later Lady Harworth’s letter was delivered to Portman Square, inviting Lady Leaconham and her goddaughter to join her picnic party at Wormley.
‘Well, this is excellent,’ she told Kitty as she perused the note with a smile of satisfaction. ‘My dear Clara has never invited me to one of her al fresco parties before, even though we are sisters!’
Lady Leaconham’s pleasure at the forthcoming trip was somewhat dimmed when she discovered that her son had no intention of accompanying them. Lord Leaconham was dining at Portman Square when his mother mentioned the forthcoming picnic.
‘Devil a bit, Mama,’ protested Garston, looking pained. ‘I’m engaged to join a party of friends for a beefsteak dinner at Chipping Barnet.’
‘But surely, escorting Kitty and myself to Wormley Hall should take precedence? Lady Harworth’s hospitality will not be stinting, I am sure.’
Lord Leaconham pulled a face.
‘Perhaps not, but she will not be serving beefsteak and oysters, now will she? And I can’t say I want to wander about the gardens all day before dining alfresco on cold meats, Mama. Not my style at all.’
Regarding Lord Leaconham’s substantial figure, Kitty considered that wandering around a garden might be more beneficial to the young man than sitting indoors drinking porter and eating beefsteak, but she held her peace.
However, Lady Leaconham was not to be put off. She continued to refer to the picnic throughout the evening.
‘But my love, surely you do not want your mama driving out of town without a gentleman’s escort? Why, it is not done.’ Lady Leaconham resorted to her finest weapon, her handkerchief. She flicked it out and dabbed at her eyes. ‘I should never be allowed to travel unescorted if your father was alive.’
‘Very well, I will tell you what I shall do,’ said Garston, exasperated. ‘I will come with you as far as Barnet—it is on the way, after all.’
‘On the way?’ retorted my lady, in a far from lachrymose tone. ‘What nonsense is this? We will be taking the Cambridge road!’
‘Well, if you take the Great North Road instead you could drop me at the Rising Sun. After that it would not take you long to cross Enfield Chase to pick up the Kentish Lane. There, what do you say to that?’
It was not ideal; Lady Leaconham would much have preferred to have her son’s company for the whole day, but he was not to be moved so she had to be satisfied.
‘After all,’ she said to Kitty once Garston had left them, ‘my son is a dear, dear boy but he is so very much like his father: not stubborn exactly, but a man of fixed views, and once he has made up his mind, there is no changing it.’
***
Kitty did not see Ann again before the picnic, and since she heard nothing more about their outing to Lombard Street she hoped their attendance at the Abolition meeting had gone unnoticed. Although she was relieved at this, Kitty was nevertheless anxious to support the cause, but apart from persuading her godmother to refrain from buying sugar imported from the slave plantations there was little she could do as a single young lady. Judicious enquiries of her godmother elicited the information that the Leaconham fortune came from estates in England and Ireland and although an earlier Lord Leaconham had dabbled in investments in the West Indies these had not been a success and the link had been broken. A suggestion to Lord Leaconham that he should raise the matter in the House brought the daunting response that he had not yet taken his seat, being far too busy. However, the subject raised a dilemma for Kitty and when she next sat down to write to her mother she voiced her concern that since so many of the families in Town had connections with the slave trade she could not, as Papa’s Daughter, consider an alliance with any of them. Not that she had as yet received any offers, she hurried to point out. Her mother’s response was typically pragmatic: much as she applauded her daughter’s liberal views, Kitty must do and say nothing to discourage any advantageous offer, but to remember that as the wife of a rich man she would be much better placed to influence both her husband and the debate.
Lady Leaconham said much the same thing and, while she agreed that they would no longer use cane sugar from the West Indies, she begged Kitty not to voice her opinions in public.
‘It is a very worthy cause, I am sure, and I have read that Mr Wilberforce is very eloquent on the subject, but it is not something to be discussed in my drawing room.’
‘I beg your pardon, Godmama,’ replied Kitty, anger bringing a warm flush to her cheek, ‘but it should be discussed in every drawing room!’
‘Well, perhaps when you are with your close friends,’ conceded Lady Leaconham, ‘but it makes people uncomfortable to think about it, and that will make them shy away from you. My dear, the reason for you being here is to find you a husband, and we shall not do that if you do not conform. And while we are talking of such things, perhaps I should just drop you a word of warning.’ Lady Leaconham began to fidget and pluck at the skirts of her gown. ‘I have been very careful not to be too explicit about your circumstances.’