that night and was nervous of meeting him again, so when Lady Leaconham informed her that her sister had invited them to the opera she was reluctant to accept.
‘But, my dear, we must go!’ cried Lady Leaconham. ‘It is so near the end of the Season this may well be our last opportunity to visit the theatre. And Lord Harworth has hired a box for us all.’
‘But I thought you were not a lover of opera, Godmama,’ said Kitty, clutching at one last straw.
‘Well, in general I am not, but this is a new working of Dido, and the review in the Herald says that there is to be a procession with an ostrich and an elephant! There, that will be something to see, will it not, my love?’
‘Yes, it will indeed. Do you know who is to be in Lady Harworth’s party, ma’am?’ Kitty asked, trying to keep her voice casual.
‘Well, Ann will be there, naturally.’ Lady Leaconham gave a little chuckle. ‘I have no doubt the two of you will have your heads together as soon as you meet.’
‘And … and will any gentlemen be present?’
Kitty flushed as Lady Leaconham reacted to her question with a knowing smile.
‘My sister does not say but I have no doubt that Lord Harworth will be escorting us. So we must make sure you are looking your best!’
Kitty did not reply. To ask more questions might make her godmother suspicious. She could only hope that Daniel Blackwood was not musical, and would stay away.
Alas for her hopes, when they arrived at the King’s Theatre, Kitty immediately spotted Daniel amongst the crowd. Catching her eye, he smiled at her but she immediately looked away, pretending she had not seen him. Lord Harworth was in good spirits and genially escorted them to the box, where he insisted upon directing his guests to their seats. His sister, however, immediately objected.
‘I will not allow you to monopolise Kitty,’ she cried. ‘We shall sit together, at the front of the box where we may see everything.’
‘And where you may be seen by all your beaux,’ replied her brother, in high good humour. ‘Very well, if that is what you want! Mama, you and my aunt should sit here, where you will have an excellent view of the stage. Blackwood and I will sit behind you. We can stand if we wish to see more.’
With everything arranged, the ladies made themselves comfortable. Kitty knew Daniel was watching her but she avoided his gaze as she disposed her skirts carefully around her. Unfortunately her nervousness made her drop her fan and it was Daniel who immediately stooped to retrieve it. As he leaned over to return it he said quietly, ‘I think you are avoiding me, Miss Wythenshawe.’
She tried to look at him to make her denial, but her eyes stopped at his mouth. She could not help admiring the beautiful, curving lines of his lips, remembering the feel of them pressed against her own. She found herself growing hot at the memory. A sudden fanfare heralded the start of the performance and gave her the excuse to turn her attention to the stage, but she was all too aware of Daniel’s warm breath on her cheek as he murmured, ‘I hope you will oblige me by taking a stroll with me in the interval.’
The idea set Kitty’s pulse racing, and she sat through the first part of the opera hardly taking in anything she was witnessing on the stage. She was conscious of Daniel sitting behind her and she resisted the temptation to turn and look at him. She longed to know if he was enjoying the performance or if he, too, was distracted. The thought that he might be studying her made Kitty feel a little light-headed. Despite her resolution to avoid him, she decided if he repeated his invitation to stroll out in the interval she would accept. After all, what danger could there be in walking together in a crowded foyer?
As soon as the front curtain was lowered a general buzz of conversation and movement ran through the audience. Kitty collected her fan and her reticule, anticipating Daniel’s invitation.
‘Miss Wythenshawe, will you walk outside with me?’
‘Oh, that is very kind of you, sir,’ said Lady Leaconham quickly, ‘but I think Lord Harworth is before you.’
Kitty was dismayed at her godmother’s interruption, but at that moment a number of visitors arrived in their box and it was clear that Lord Harworth would have to remain to talk to them. There was an added distraction as Lord Leaconham appeared, saying, ‘I saw you from the pit, you know, and thought I should look in.’
‘Garston, how delightful!’ Ann waved an imperious hand towards him. ‘Come and sit by me and tell me what you thought of the singing. Was it not dreadful?’
The small box was suddenly full of people, all talking at once.
‘Shall we go, Miss Wythenshawe?’ Daniel murmured in Kitty’s ear.
She looked around. No one raised any objection when Daniel held out his arm to her and they slipped out to join the noisy crowd parading through the vestibule. It was so busy that Kitty was obliged to cling tightly to Daniel’s arm, thankful for the strong, protective presence of her escort.
‘I thought I might not get you away,’ remarked Daniel. ‘I haven’t seen you since Barnet.’
She raised her hand in a small, defensive gesture.
‘Please. We agreed not to mention it again.’
‘Can you forget it so easily then?’
‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘I have quite put it from my mind. It is an incident that could ruin my reputation.’
‘Because you intend to marry a lord.’
‘It would make any gentleman think twice about marrying me,’ she responded frankly.
‘Not if he really cared about you.’
‘But I must not deter a suitor before he has a chance to care for me,’ she reasoned.
‘And must you have a title?’
‘Yes, if I can.’
There. It was out, she was acknowledging her ambition. She wondered why she should feel so ashamed of it: after all, it was commonly expected that every young lady would make the best marriage she could.
Papa would not have liked such worldly ambition. The thought popped into her head unbidden, but almost immediately she imagined her mother’s response: “Yes, and look where your father’s lack of worldliness has landed us—in poverty!”
After a slight pause she said, ‘Please, Mr Blackwood, do not think too badly of me: a good marriage is my mother’s dearest wish and I must not disappoint her.’
She held her breath. There was no explosion, no angry retort.
After a moment he said coolly, ‘If that is what you want then I wish you every success. There is the interval bell—shall we return to the box?’
Kitty awoke the next day to find the early morning sunshine flooding into her room, but she was conscious only of a dull depression. She sipped thoughtfully at her hot chocolate, trying to work out why there should be such a cloud over her spirits.
The visit to the opera had been a success: nothing had occurred to mar the good humour of the
