along. We shall be as merry as grigs!’
Perhaps it was because her own mind was still struggling over the plight of the slaves that Kitty thought she saw a shadow cross Daniel’s face when Ann spoke with such frivolity. Ann was chattering on about her plans for the forthcoming picnic, but when she drew a breath Kitty said quickly, ‘May I ask how you know Mr Clarkson, sir?’
‘Cambridge,’ said Daniel. ‘We were there together when he won the Latin Essay contest.’
‘And were you both concerned for the plight of the slaves then?’ asked Ann.
Daniel shook his head.
‘I doubt if either of us gave it a thought at that time. Clarkson started looking into the subject of slavery to write his essay.’ He shrugged. ‘We were not close friends: when we left Cambridge, I went back to Yorkshire to join my father running the family business. But it seems that Clarkson could not forget what he had learned about the slave trade. Instead of going around the world as he had intended he came to London and has been working with the Society for the Abolition of the Slave Trade ever since, travelling the country setting up sub-committees and organising petitions. I have followed his career from the reports I have read, but have not seen him for years. Then I heard of the meeting this evening, and as I was not engaged elsewhere I thought I would look in.’
‘But does not the Abolition run contrary to your own family interests, sir?’ asked Kitty. ‘I understand you have connections with shipping.’
‘Not at all,’ he replied coolly. ‘My concern is manufacturing. It is true the cost of cotton may rise if slavery is abolished, but we will weather that storm, I am sure. Those members of the family more closely connected with the slave trade must look to their own consciences.’
‘Let us pray that they do, sir.’
Kitty’s earnest response brought his hard eyes upon her.
‘And what is your interest in this matter, Miss Wythenshawe?’
She met his gaze without flinching.
‘Hardship and suffering such as we have heard about tonight should be the interest of every Christian, Mr Blackwood!’
‘It should be, Miss Wythenshawe,’ he agreed, ‘but so many prefer to turn a blind eye and enjoy a life of ease and enjoyment.’
She bristled at that.
‘My father was a great supporter of the Abolition. He died when I was a child but I hope I have not lost sight of his principles.’
‘Well, I will insist we no longer purchase sugar from the West Indies,’ declared Ann. ‘I shall tell Aunt Leaconham to do the same. Only … what of my sorbets and sweetmeats?’ She looked up at Daniel. ‘Oh, dear, shall I be obliged to give them up completely?’
Her look of dismay was so comical that both Daniel and Kitty laughed.
‘There are other sources of sugar, Miss Harworth,’ Daniel told her, ‘but they may not be quite so plentiful, or so cheap. You may still have your 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
