To Catch a Husband…(24)
'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?'