To Catch a Husband…(25)

'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.'