A Regency Baron's Bride. Sarah Mallory

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that she had never entered the kitchen of a grand house, but Lord Harworth was turning towards her, offering her his arm.

      ‘I think we should be making our way to the lake. May I escort you, Miss Wythenshawe?’

      Kitty did not need the little nudge in the back from Lady Leaconham to remind her of her duty, but she did try to smile a little more warmly at Lord Harworth as she tucked her fingers into the crook of his arm and walked off. She would not think of Daniel and his black looks, nor the fact that when she had put her hand on Daniel’s arm at the recent ball she had felt a little buzz of excitement run through her body. She could remember even now the feel of the hard sinews beneath his sleeve, the coiled energy of the man in the solid muscle. Lord Harworth’s arm merely felt … solid.

      The party making its way around the lake to the picnic site was a very jolly one, with plenty of chatter and laughter and Kitty did her best to join in, responding in kind to her escort’s jovial remarks. She tried not to think of Daniel, who was following some way behind. When they reached the designated dining area Lord Harworth excused himself and rushed off to instruct the servants on the placing of the remaining tables and Kitty was left to wait for the others to come up. Daniel and Ann were the first to arrive and as they approached she was somewhat surprised to hear Ann alluding to the Abolition meeting.

      ‘Kitty has successfully persuaded my aunt to give up plantation sugar, but I have not been able to help at all,’ Ann was saying to Daniel. ‘Bertram has investments in the West Indies, you see, so it is impossible for us to purchase our sugar elsewhere. And as Bertram says, if we all stop buying sugar then the poor plantation workers will starve, and what good will that do?’

      ‘It might force change,’ Daniel replied, but Ann was not listening.

      ‘Besides, if you consider what we use in one household,’ she continued reflectively, ‘it is not so very much, after all, so what good would our little protest do?’ She smiled at Kitty. ‘We would be inconveniencing ourselves to very little effect, do you not agree?’

      Kitty hesitated; her godmother’s warning was still fresh in her mind.

      ‘I think, if there were enough little protests, they might have a profound effect,’ she replied carefully. She excused herself and moved away, determined not to be drawn into the argument, but not before she heard Daniel’s comment.

      ‘Miss Wythenshawe does not appear quite so eager to support the movement now. Perhaps her enthusiasm has waned since the meeting.’

      ‘We were all moved by Mr Clarkson’s talk that evening,’ replied Ann. ‘But when the heat of the moment is passed then rational thought returns. I tried to dissuade her from signing the petition, but she was adamant she would do it …’

      Kitty heard no more. She moved away quickly to join her godmother, who was being invited by Lord Harworth to sit at his table. It would do no good to assure Ann that she was as passionate as ever about the evils of slavery, and such a public declaration could only upset her godmother, so she tried to put the conversation out of her mind and concentrate upon the picnic.

      The sun continued to shine and the party was in excellent spirits as the footmen served them with a delicious assortment of dishes, most impressive of which were the sorbets and chilled lemonade brought down from the house in a wagon full of ice.

      ‘Oh, this is delightful,’ cried Ann. ‘I do hope the fine weather holds a little longer. Perhaps we could dine out of doors for my birthday, Mama.’

      ‘And where would you suggest we do that, miss?’ retorted her mother. ‘The terrace is not wide enough and Harworth will not allow you to trample all over his flowerbeds.’

      ‘No, indeed,’ chuckled Lord Harworth. He turned to Kitty. ‘You must know, Miss Wythenshawe—indeed, I am sure Ann has told you, such good friends as you have become!—that my sister has persuaded me to hold a little dance for her birthday before we go north for the summer. I hope you will be able to come?’

      ‘Oh, I—um—’

      ‘Of course we shall, Bertram dear.’ Lady Leaconham smiled. ‘And I am sure Leaconham will come, too.’

      ‘But why is my nephew not here today?’ demanded Lady Harworth. ‘I made sure my invitation included him.’

      ‘He is engaged to join a party of friends today, at Barnet,’ explained Lady Leaconham, helping herself to another dish of sorbet.

      ‘Barnet,’ cried Lord Harworth. ‘Ah, that will be at the Rising Sun, no doubt. They are famous for their dinners.’

      ‘That is correct,’ affirmed Lady Leaconham. ‘We shall drive back that way and collect him on our return to Town.’

      ‘I hope he has a good head then,’ laughed Mr Ashley, sitting at a nearby table. ‘I believe the wine and brandy flow pretty freely at those affairs!’

      ‘Not sure I’d want my m-mother to see me after such a meal!’ remarked Julian Grant.

      ‘Heaven forbid,’ muttered Mr Ashley. ‘It might give you inspiration for another of your dreadful odes!’

      Lady Leaconham was busy conversing with her sister and Kitty was thankful she did not hear this interchange.

      ‘Tell me, Miss Wythenshawe …’ Lord Harworth turned to address her’ … how does this compare with your life in the north?’

      ‘It is very … different, my lord,’ she replied.

      ‘A little warmer, I don’t doubt,’ he chuckled. ‘My mother always bemoans the fact that when we are at Kirkleigh the weather is rarely conducive to dining out of doors. So how do you amuse yourself at home? Balls, assemblies.’

      Kitty was at a loss to know how to reply and was thankful when her godmother came to her aid.

      ‘My dear Kitty has lived very retired, my lord. Her mother is a widow now, of course, but Mr Wythenshawe was a man of very strict principles. Not,’ she added hastily, ‘that he had any objection to parties, but only in select company.’

      ‘And are you well acquainted with Mr Blackwood’s family?’ enquired Ann.

      ‘Not at all,’ Kitty replied hastily.

      ‘Oh?’ Ann looked up, surprised. ‘But when we met him in Oxford Street you said—’

      ‘Yes, but we do not move in the same circles.’

      Kitty hoped in vain that her words had not carried across the table to Daniel. She saw his dark frown descend.

      ‘I told you, my lord,’ he said, ‘Miss Wythenshawe is far above my touch.’

      The icy words coincided with a small cloud crossing in front of the sun and a sudden, uneasy hush fell over the company. It lasted only a couple of seconds, but Kitty was mortified.

      ‘No, no, I never meant—’

      Her anguished protest was no more than a whisper and it was lost as Lady Harworth rose from the table, signalling the end of the meal. There was a sudden flurry of activity as everyone followed suit and Kitty looked towards Daniel, hoping she might be able to apologise and explain herself, but he was already moving away, giving his arm to

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