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.’
‘My … circumstances, Godmama?’
‘The fact that you have no fortune, my dear. It is nothing to be ashamed of, and you have such pretty manners that people cannot fail to like you, but we do not want to prejudice anyone against you.’
‘Are you saying that people will not wish to be acquainted with me if they know I am poor?’ said Kitty baldly.
‘My dear, there is no need to be quite so blunt,’ protested Lady Leaconham. ‘All I ask is that you refrain from discouraging eligible gentlemen by being too truthful—about your country upbringing, for example—or expressing your more … liberal views.’
Kitty bit her lip. She very much wanted to say that she did not want a husband if he did not share her opinions, but then she had a vision of poor Mama and Aunt Jane, sitting in their cold little cottage, struggling to set their stitches in the failing light and unable to afford to buy good candles and coal from their meagre income. They had scrimped and saved, forgoing all luxuries to send her to London. The more she thought about it the more she realised that, having spent their savings on this trip, Mama and Aunt Jane were now in a very perilous position, for if they could no longer make a living from their sewing then they would have nothing at all to live on. Fearful visions of them being thrown onto the streets began to haunt her. She must not let them down. Kitty fought down a sigh: her resolution to marry well had not seemed quite so problematic when she had been in Yorkshire.
Kitty saw that Lady Leaconham was regarding her anxiously and she gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Very well, Godmama, I promise you I shall try to avoid saying anything that would make you uncomfortable. I will do my best to do my duty.’
Lady Leaconham gave a very audible sigh. She smiled and patted Kitty’s cheek.
‘There. I knew you were a good girl! Oh, and I almost forgot to tell you that your new walking dress has arrived.’
‘Another dress? Oh, ma’am, you are spoiling me!’
‘Nonsense. We were agreed that you should have a new one, were we not? After all, you walk out every morning when you take Titan for his exercise.’
Kitty laughed.
‘No one sees me at that time in the morning, Godmama!’
‘Nevertheless you cannot have too many walking dresses. And when I was with Madame Sophie last week I saw the most beautiful sprigged muslin that I knew would look lovely on you. It is for our picnic tomorrow. I want you to look your best for Lord Harworth.’
‘But I am sure Lord Harworth has no interest in me, except as his sister’s friend.’
‘Perhaps not, but there is no harm in your looking your best for the picnic,’ responded Lady Leaconham. ‘And since you will be together for most of the day tomorrow, it would do no harm to make yourself agreeable to him, now would it? After all, he is by far the most eligible bachelor we know, and even if he is only a baron think how happy your mama would be if you were to become Lady Harworth!’
With her godmother’s words ringing in her ears, Kitty rose the next day and made her preparations for the picnic. She dressed carefully in the new gown of pale primrose, its bodice embroidered with tiny flowers in a deeper lemon, and she allowed Meakin to style her hair so that her glossy dark curls would peep out beneath the shady brim of her villager straw hat. When a servant scratched upon the door to tell her Lord Leaconham had arrived and that Lady Leaconham was waiting for her in the morning room, she took a final look in the mirror, picked up her parasol and hurried downstairs.
‘My dear, you look charmingly,’ smiled Lady Leaconham as she entered the morning room. ‘Well, Garston, what do you think of my protégé now?’
‘By
