dare you do that to a lady?’
He looked down at her, his eyes narrowing. Then, very deliberately, he let her go. She gave a shriek, her arms tightening around his neck as she tried to lift her feet from the mud. Calmly he reached up and pulled her hands away and she was obliged to stand, the cold muddy water oozing around her ankles and into her boots.
‘If that wants trettin’ like a lady,’ he growled, ‘then that mun act like one.’
And with that he turned and walked to the carriage.
Kitty lifted her sodden skirts and pulled one foot clear of the sticky, cloying mud. With slow, unsteady steps she made her way to the road, biting her lip in rage and mortification. She had been very rude, to be sure, but how dare he drop her in the water? She looked down at her feet. Her new boots were ruined and instead of a jaunty yellow decoration around the hem of her walking dress, the bottom six inches of her skirts glistened with slick brown mud.
When Kitty reached the road she was too upset to speak and after scraping the worst of the mud from her boots and stockings she climbed silently into the carriage, biting her lip while Mrs Midgley clucked and fidgeted around her like a mother hen.
Daniel looked down at his legs. His topboots were almost completely covered in mud and it had splashed up over his buckskins. He walked to the edge of the ford to wash the worst of the dirt away before climbing back into the carriage. Mr Midgley gave the word and they set off again. The atmosphere inside the carriage was distinctly uncomfortable. Daniel looked at the young woman huddled in the corner: she was staring out of the window, her jaw set hard. He saw her blink rapidly and guessed that she was trying not to cry.
‘I beg your pardon,’ he said quietly. ‘Miss Wythenshawe, I—’
‘Now, now, my boy, you did your best,’ put in Mr Midgley. ‘I did not see quite what happened, as I was helping my wife into the coach, but I am sure it could not be helped. We must be thankful that one of our ladies at least was carried safely across the mud. I have no doubt Miss Wythenshawe is most grateful for your efforts, isn’t that so, my dear?’
Daniel saw the little chin tremble. Miss Wythenshawe averted her face but he could not mistake the bitterness in her voice when she replied.
‘Mr Blackwood’s efforts will not be forgotten.’
‘There, now, all’s well, you see.’ Mr Midgley beamed around the carriage. ‘Once the mud has dried, we can clean it off and your boots and your gown will be as good as new!’
Daniel sat back, closing his lips against further comment. Mrs Midgley did not look convinced by her husband’s cheerful assurances and as for Miss Wythenshawe, she kept her gaze fixed firmly upon the passing landscape. He leaned forwards, his hand going out to her.
‘Perhaps you will allow me to—’
‘Pray do not touch me!’ she said icily. ‘I think you have done quite enough damage today!’
Daniel drew back immediately. He had been about to offer to pay for a new gown, but it was quite clear the young woman wanted nothing further to do with him. Stifling a sigh of exasperation, Daniel turned to stare out of the window beside him, praying that his nightmare journey would soon be over.
The carriage slowed to negotiate a winding village street and Daniel sat up, relieved to recognise the familiar buildings.
‘Hestonroyd.’ He turned to Mr Midgley. ‘This will do for me, sir, if you would direct your driver to stop.’
Mr Midgley pulled the check-string and Daniel jumped down. He bowed and offered his thanks to Mr and Mrs Midgley but when he touched his hat to Miss Wythenshawe she merely hunched her shoulder and looked away. With a shrug he waited until the carriage had moved off then walked briskly along the street until he arrived at the gates to the Holme, an imposing new house set back from the road. As he strode up the drive, the front door flew open and a young lady ran out.
‘Daniel, at last!’
He caught her up in his arms, swinging her around and laughing.
‘Have you been looking out for me, Bella?’
He set her back on her feet.
‘Since daybreak. But what have you been doing, brother dearest? You are covered in mud.’
He grinned.
‘That is a very long story. Let us go indoors. I need to clean myself up.’
‘You must be quick, then, for Mama is waiting in the drawing room for you. Papa is at the mill, but he said we were to send word as soon as you arrived.’ She twinkled up at him. ‘He would not say so, of course, but he has missed you, and was mightily disappointed when you did not come home last night.’
Daniel put his arm around her shoulders.
‘Well, you can send him a message now to tell him I am safe, and inform Mama that I will be with her as soon as I am presentable!’
The clock in the hall had chimed two more quarters before Daniel finally made his way downstairs to the drawing room. It was a large well-proportioned chamber, comfortably furnished, everything of the finest quality, and it had a quiet elegance that Daniel found very restful. His mother was seated at her new writing desk, her dark hair neatly confined beneath a lace cap.
‘Well, Mama, I am home at last.’
She looked up, a smile lighting her face.
‘Daniel, my love.’ She rose to greet him, hugging him tightly. She would never admit it but he suspected she had spent a restless night worrying over his safety. He held her away from him.
‘You are looking very well, Mama, and that is a very fetching coat. Is it new?’
‘It is a pet-en-l’air,’ she told him, smoothing her hands over the grey velvet of the loose jacket she wore over her morning gown. ‘They are not so fashionable now, I’m afraid, but just the thing for these chill spring days.’ She gestured to him to sit down with her. ‘Bella tells me you have had an eventful journey.’
‘Yes, Marnie is lame; we took a fall coming back from Barrowford. No, no, I suffered no injury,’ he added quickly when he saw the alarm in her face. ‘I was obliged to leave Marnie in Halifax but was fortunate to meet Mr Midgley and his lady on their way to London and they took me up. They send their regards, Mama, but would not stop.’
‘That was very kind of them, but are you sure you are not hurt? No doubt you were cutting across the moors again. I wish you had kept to the roads, my son.’
‘I wish I had done so, this time,’ Daniel responded with a rueful grin. ‘You will say I was well served, Mama, for I had to spend the night sleeping on the heather.’
‘He was covered in mud,’ added Bella, following him into the room. ‘Up to his knees!’
‘Not from my sojourn on the moor,’ Daniel was quick to reassure his mother. ‘The
