that might give him an advantage with the ladies, but a man without a taste for gambling, or cock-fighting, well—’
He broke off as he negotiated the busy road leading out of the park and Kitty was pleased to let the subject drop. She had come perilously close to defending Daniel Blackwood, and that would never do!
There was little time for conversation when she returned to Portman Square. By the time she had changed her gown and tidied her hair, Lord Harworth’s carriage was at the door. She had told her godmother that Ann had invited her to dine since her mother and brother were to be out that evening. This was perfectly true, but what she did not explain was that they would be having a very hurried dinner before setting out for Lombard Street.
During her short time in London Kitty had never been further east than St Paul’s, but now they were venturing deep into the City and she felt a little apprehensive as their hired cab trundled over the cobbles in the narrow streets.
‘Is this not exciting?’ exclaimed Ann, her eyes shining. ‘I have never been to a public meeting before!’
‘I am not sure that your mama or your brother would approve,’ murmured Kitty, regarding the garishly painted inn where the carriage had drawn up.
‘No, that is why I suggested we should be veiled,’ Ann replied, unabashed. ‘And why I did not want to use one of our own carriages with the crest upon the door.’ She laughed. ‘Do not look so anxious, dear Kitty. We shall be perfectly safe for we have Norris with us, do we not?’
Kitty nodded, trying to look more cheerful, but a quick glance at Ann’s maid sitting silent and tight-lipped in the corner was far from reassuring. However, when they had pulled their veils down over their faces and descended from the cab Kitty was heartened to see that the people making their way up the stairs to the meeting room looked most respectable. It was, after all, early evening, she told herself. They would be safely back in Cavendish Square before the long summer’s day had drawn to a close.
***
Kitty would have preferred to slip on to one of the benches at the back of the room but Ann had spotted empty chairs much nearer to the dais where the speaker would be standing and was already making her way towards them, so Kitty had no alternative but to follow. At the front of the room a tall gentleman with a shock of red hair was opening up a large trunk in the centre of the dais and she heard someone address him as Mr Clarkson. Kitty regarded him with interest, for she had read a great deal about the fiery speaker who travelled all over the country promoting the abolition movement with evangelical zeal. He was very pale and there were dark circles beneath his eyes: she suspected he was worn down by the arduous task he had set himself.
‘Oh, goodness,’ hissed Ann suddenly. ‘Look who has walked in! You see how wise we were to disguise ourselves.’
Kitty turned to see Daniel Blackwood striding towards the front of the room. As he approached, Mr Clarkson looked up and greeted him with every appearance of delight.
‘Well, of all people I did not expect to see Mr Blackwood here,’ Ann whispered. ‘Bertram told me he is connected to one of the foremost shipping families in Liverpool, and they derive a great part of their fortune from slaves, you know. However, he does seem to be on the best of terms with our speaker.’
There was no opportunity for Kitty to reply because at that moment a large bewhiskered gentleman banged on the table to bring the meeting to order. From behind the safety of her veil Kitty allowed her eyes to follow Daniel as he retreated to a chair at one side of the room. The audience hushed as Mr Clarkson began to address the crowd.
Kitty had not known what to expect from the meeting: she had read in the newspapers about the Abolition meetings held in Manchester and Leeds, but when Mr Clarkson began to explain about the horrific conditions endured by the slaves during their long sea voyage from Africa to the West Indies she found her indignation growing, and when he reached into the trunk and took out the thumbscrews, shackles and branding irons that he had collected during his investigations into the cruelty of the trade, she felt physically sick. Kitty was not alone in her sentiments: murmurs of outrage ran around the room during the meeting and she heard cries of anguish from some of the other ladies present. She was so incensed that when the meeting ended she ignored Ann’s whispered protests and joined the queue of people waiting to sign their name to a petition that would be presented to Parliament.
‘What is the point in our coming here so secretly if you are going to declare yourself?’ demanded Ann, standing beside her.
‘I do not think my name will stand out amongst the hundreds already written on the paper,’ she replied as she took up the pen. ‘Besides, I want to show that I am opposed to such cruel practices. My father certainly would have approved of my actions. There … it is done.’
Ann grasped her arm. ‘Very well, now let us get out of here before we are discovered.’
They were forced to walk in line between the rows of empty chairs that stood between them and the door. Ann led the way and Kitty followed, head bowed, lost in her own thoughts. Suddenly she realised that her friend had stopped and she looked up to find Daniel Blackwood blocking their way. He towered over them, unsmiling, as he inclined his head.
‘Miss Harworth, Miss Wythenshawe.’
‘M-Mr Blackwood, what a pleasant surprise!’ replied Ann, quick to recover her composure. ‘If we had known you were coming here—’
He interrupted her, saying drily, ‘You would not ask me to believe that Lord Harworth knows you are here unattended.’
‘Well, no,’ confessed Ann, while Kitty stood silently behind her. ‘However, we were determined to come, and it is such a worthy cause!’
‘It is, of course,’ he responded gravely. ‘But you will notice that all the other ladies here are accompanied by a gentleman. If you will give me a moment, I shall escort you home.’
His tone brooked no argument and he went off to take his leave of Thomas Clarkson. Ann turned to Kitty.
‘Well, it was unfortunate that he recognised us, but I think we may yet persuade him not to give us away.’ She added philosophically, ‘And if Mama does learn of our coming here, at least she will be comforted to know that we had Mr Blackwood’s escort.’
By the time they left the meeting room the crowd had disappeared and it was a matter of moments to find a cab to take them back to Cavendish Square. They were still settling themselves into the worn leather seats when Ann threw back her veil and demanded to be told how Mr Blackwood had recognised them.
‘I made sure with our cloaks and veils no one would know us,’ she added.
‘As a guest in your house you should expect me to recognise your maid, Miss Harworth,’ he replied with the glimmer of a smile. ‘And since I was in the room when you asked your brother to send the carriage for Miss Wythenshawe, I deduced that she was your companion.’
Kitty put up her veil: there seemed little point now in disguise.
‘And did Lord Harworth know that you were attending the meeting this evening, Mr Blackwood?’ she asked him.
Daniel’s dark brows went up.
‘I had made no firm plans before Lord Harworth went out this evening so no, he did not. But even if I had told him it would make no odds; Lord Harworth is not my guardian, after all.’
‘No,
