Lord Harworth dismissed his apology with a wave of his hand.
‘You know this was not intended as a social visit, Blackwood, but the ladies would insist upon coming!’
‘I hope they have found it of interest.’
Daniel’s eyes were upon Kitty. She felt obliged to respond.
‘Yes, very much, sir, thank you. It was very informative.’
She accepted a glass of water and retired to a seat by the window, glad to have a few moments to think over all she had seen.
‘But why worsted, Blackwood?’ enquired Lord Harworth. ‘Surely cotton is the thing now.’
‘Our cotton mills are in Lancashire,’ replied Daniel, handing him a glass of wine. ‘We have been producing worsted here for generations—it makes sense when we are surrounded by sheep and we have the wool on our doorstep. Besides, I do not like to have all my eggs in one basket.’
‘And your people here work only ten hours a day? They could do more, surely.’
Daniel shrugged.
‘They could, but tired people do not work so well. And tiredness brings carelessness. That is when accidents happen.’ He looked up as a stocky man in a brown coat entered. ‘Ah, Stoodley, come in. This is James Stoodley, my mill manager.’
Once the introductions were complete Daniel moved away, leaving Lord Harworth deep in conversation with his manager.
‘What were the buildings we passed on the way here?’ asked Kitty. ‘I thought I glimpsed a house and a garden, too—is that your own house, perhaps?’
‘No, Miss Wythenshawe, I live a mile away on the edge of Hestonroyd village. The building you saw today houses the nursery and school. Perhaps, when you have rested a little you might like to see it?’
Kitty hesitated.
‘I—I am sure you have other business to attend to, Mr Blackwood.’
‘No, I was going to show Lord Harworth the ledgers and explain something of the costs involved in running a mill this size, but Stoodley can do that much better than I, if you ladies would like to walk to the nursery building?’
‘I do not think I could walk another yard!’ cried Ann, selecting a second macaroon from the plate on the desk. ‘You go, Kitty, then you can tell me all about it later. I will wait here with Bertram.’
‘Yes, off you go, my dear,’ nodded Lord Harworth, sitting down at the desk and pushing the tray aside to make room for a large ledger. ‘Stoodley can tell me anything I want to know here.’
Kitty was still undecided. Daniel held out his arm to her.
‘Then shall we go, Miss Wythenshawe?’
After the briefest hesitation she placed her fingers on his sleeve and he led her out into the yard again.
‘Do you wish me to summon the carriage to take us up the road?’
‘No, no, it is not that far to walk, I think?’
She glanced up at him, looking quite enchanting with her dark curls peeping from under the straw bonnet that framed her face. He was struck again by her eyes; their colour reminded him of the vivid green of the moors after a summer rainstorm. It took a moment for him to realise she expected an answer.
‘No—um—it will only take us ten minutes.’
He escorted her out of the yard and along the road. He had walked this way many times but rarely had the sun shone so brilliantly, nor had he noticed so many birds singing in the woods, or the merry babble of the stream. Kitty made some remark about the mill and he responded mechanically, but her interest was genuine, the questions she posed were thoughtful and soon he found himself telling her of his plans to expand, to develop and improve the spinning machines and add a loom shop—he even mentioned the idea of installing a steam engine, something he had not even discussed with his father.
‘It all sounds very exciting,’ she remarked. ‘But some believe innovation is dangerous. Are there not risks involved in all these changes?’
‘Of course. But there is even more danger in standing still. I hope that by the time the children in the nursery here are grown, not only will we be spinning but we will also have weaving sheds here at Hestonroyd.’
They had reached the path leading down to the square, whitewashed building that housed the nursery and school. Daniel opened the gate for her to enter the neat gardens that surrounded it.
‘This is much bigger than I thought,’ she told him. ‘I had imagined perhaps a small schoolroom…’
‘I do not allow very young children in my mills,’ Daniel explained. ‘The parents leave their children here when they come to work. They are taught to read and write, and help in the garden, where they grow vegetables for their meals.’
‘And when they are older?’
‘Most of them come to work in the mill.’ She did not reply but he knew she was thinking of the noisy, dusty spinning shops. He said, ‘It is a harsh world, Miss Wythenshawe. They are free to find work elsewhere if they can. Those who master their letters might find work in the towns, but somehow they must earn their keep. If their parents did not work in my mill then these children would most likely be toiling in the fields now or helping in the home, rather than being schooled. I like to think that this way I am giving them a chance to better themselves.’ He glanced down at her. ‘You and I were fortunate, Miss Wythenshawe, we have never known poverty.’
‘I am aware of that,’ she responded quietly. ‘And I am profoundly grateful.’
They had reached the house and the door to the schoolroom stood open. Inside the children were sitting at their benches, practising their letters. Daniel allowed the school-teacher to show Kitty around. They disappeared briefly into the nursery where a nursemaid looked after the very young children before coming back to spend some time in the schoolroom. Kitty removed her bonnet and sat down with the children, talking to them and using her own dainty finger to draw letters in the sandtray on the bench before her. The afternoon sun was streaming through the window and as Kitty moved about the room the sunlight caught her hair. Strange that he had never noticed the hint of red in it before, an occasional glint of fire. He folded his arms and leaned back against the wall. She was so at ease here, coaxing even the shyest child to talk to her. He imagined her running just such a school as this, or even with a child of her own in her arms. She would want several, he thought idly, and he would wander into the nursery of an evening to find her there…
Hell and damnation, this was madness!
Daniel snapped himself upright. She was as good as promised to Harworth. Her coming here with him today was undoubtedly a declaration of intent. Daniel had been surprised when he had seen the ladies arrive with Harworth, but pleasantly so and he had enjoyed showing them around the mill. Ann Harworth had evinced little interest but Kitty had been eager to learn. He had noticed how she had moved closer when he was talking to Harworth and the questions she had posed today had been intelligent and apposite. If Harworth did marry her she would take an interest in his mill and its workers, he was sure. Daniel stifled the tiny voice in his heart whispering that Harworth didn’t deserve her. He acknowledged his jealousy, but he would overcome it. He cleared his throat.
‘I think we should be getting back, Miss Wythenshawe.’
Kitty looked up as Daniel’s deep voice cut through the light chatter of the schoolroom. She had quite lost track of the time in talking with the teacher and the children. For the first time since coming to Kirkleigh she could see a purpose to her future life. Her concerns that as mistress of Kirkleigh she would have nothing to do were at an end. If Lord Harworth should offer for her then she would interest herself in his people. There were already his tenants and those who worked on his land to care for, but once his mill was working there would be even more families arriving, and many would have young children.
Kitty’s head was buzzing with ideas as she walked back to the mill beside Daniel and they had gone more than halfway before she realised that her companion had not said one word to her since leaving the nursery building.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she said earn
estly. ‘Is it very unusual to set up such a school as this one, Mr Blackwood?’
She was idly swinging her bonnet by its ribbons, too preoccupied to think of putting it on, or to consider the effect of the sun on her complexion.
‘It is becoming more common,’ he replied. ‘Mill owners recognise the benefits of looking after their workers. This was my mother’s idea. She visits frequently to assure herself the children are well cared for.’
‘Yes, I can see that such a role might fall to the mistress,’ murmured Kitty, frowning a little.
‘Do you think men are so lacking in kindness?’ he challenged her.
‘I think they are more motivated by profit, and can forget the more civilised aspects of life,’ she replied, thinking of Lord Harworth, poring over the ledgers in the office.
‘It is not impossible for profit and philanthropy to go together, Miss Wythenshawe!’
Kitty stopped.
‘I beg your pardon,’ she said, her colour heightened. ‘I did not mean to imply any slur upon you, Mr Blackwood.’
‘I am well aware of what you think of me,’ he muttered. ‘I am hardly a gentleman in your eyes!’
He went to walk on but she caught his sleeve.
‘Now what nonsense is this? I thought we had done with that misunderstanding. You know how much I regret ever thinking ill of you.’
He shook off her hand.
‘That is not the point. Nothing can change the fact that I am a manufacturer.’
She was confused by his anger, and a little hurt, too.
‘You told me you were proud of what you are,’ she retorted. ‘Do you think we came here out of idle curiosity, to look at your mill as one might look at a freak show? Lord Harworth wants to build a mill and has consulted you because your family knows more about the subject than anyone. That is why he came to Hestonroyd today.’
‘And you insisted upon accompanying him,’ he threw at her. ‘Still toadying up to him, I don’t doubt, showing him you are the perfect helpmate, entering into all his concerns!’
‘No!’ cried Kitty. What could she say? He was only repeating what everyone else thought of her. She moved a step closer, forcing herself to meet his eyes. ‘That is not how it is. I wanted to come, I wished to see the mill. I wanted…I wanted to discover why it means so much to you, why you are so proud to be a manufacturer.’
The anger still smouldered in his eyes, his mouth fixed in a thin line.
‘And are you satisfied?’
Kitty’s anger melted. He looked so much like a sullen schoolboy that she wanted to reach out and brush the stray lock of hair from his forehead, to pull his face down to hers and kiss away his sulks. She dare not allow herself to do any of these things so she merely nodded.
‘I think you should be very proud of what you have achieved here, Mr Blackwood.’
He continued to stare at her but she would not look away. She needed him to know she was sincere.
‘You must think me a boorish fellow,’ he said at last.
She smiled. ‘I think you have a temper that is not always under control.’
His lips curved a little and the dangerous light faded from his eyes. The wind had whipped an errant curl across her face and he lifted one hand to catch it.
‘You are right,’ he said, tucking the curl carefully behind her ear. ‘My mother despairs of me.’ The touch of his fingers set Kitty’s heart knocking painfully against her ribs, but when he dropped his hand the lack of contact was even more agonising. She forced herself to stand still while every nerve screamed to reach out for him. The world no longer existed, she was no longer aware of the rumble of the mill, the sound of the stream or the singing of the birds, there was only Daniel, standing so close, holding her eyes.
His face softened, he lifted his hand again. ‘Miss Wythenshawe—Kitty—I…’
‘There you are!’
Lord Harworth’s jovial cry echoed over them. Daniel dropped his hand and Kitty was filled with an intense disappointment. As one they turned, schooling their features to smile as Lord Harworth approached with his sister hanging on his arm.
‘You were gone such a time that we decided to walk out and meet you,’ said Ann. ‘What kept you so long? ‘
‘I’m afraid I could not tear myself away from the children.’ Kitty responded calmly, hoping the turmoil within her did not show in her face. To her relief Ann merely released her brother’s arm and reached out her hand.
‘Bertram thinks it is time we were going back to Kirkleigh, so I think we should walk ahead and let the gentlemen talk business. I know Bertram has one or two final questions he wishes to put to Mr Blackwood.’
Kitty dare not look at Daniel to see if he was happy with this suggestion. She allowed Ann to take her arm and walk with her back towards the mill entrance but all the time she was aware of Daniel and Bertram behind her and although they spoke of nothing but business her ears strained to catch every syllable that Daniel uttered, revelling in the sound of his deep mellow voice and knowing that she would forever wonder what he would have said to her, if they had not been interrupted.
Chapter Ten
Kitty did not know whether to be glad or sorry that the visit to Hestonroyd Mill attracted so little interest from Lord Harworth’s guests. On the one hand she would have been glad to discuss all she had seen there, but she was aware that any such discussions must involve mention of Daniel Blackwood and she would much rather not talk about him. She did not even want to think about him, but the wretched man kept coming into her head and cutting up her peace quite dreadfully.
He had not spoken a word to her once Lord Harworth and Ann had joined them on the road outside the mill and when he escorted them back to their carriage she heard him tell Lord Harworth that he would be too busy to call at Kirkleigh again for several weeks.
Kitty was determined to put him out of her mind. She knew the best thing to do was to stay busy so she made great efforts to keep herself occupied. The dry sunny weather continued and the guests at Kirkleigh whiled away their time with pleasant diversions. The younger members of the party played bowls and amused themselves in the gardens while the gentlemen rode, fished and shot and the older ladies spent most of their time reclining in easy chairs, fanning themselves and complaining of the heat.
Ann was determined that nothing should spoil their ride to Titchwell and resisted Lady Leaconham’s suggestions that they should postpone the visit until the weather was cooler.
‘Pho, Aunt, we are not such fragile creatures that we shall melt under a little sunshine. What say you, Kitty, are you not bored with sitting around the house? Do you not long to ride out in this glorious weather?
‘No, I am not bored,’ said Kitty, who was spending the long, lazy days at Kirkleigh practising upon the pianoforte, writing long letters to her mother or filling her sketchbook with scenes to show Mama and Aunt Jane when she returned home. ‘I am a little nervous of riding out with you,’ she confessed. ‘Selby is very encouraging about my ability, but I am still very much a beginner…’
‘You will be perfectly safe with us,’ Ann assured her. ‘We will enjoy the odd gallop but in the main we will keep to the lanes, so there will be no fences or ditches to cross.’ She dropped her voice so that only Kitty could hear her. ‘And think how wonderful not to have my aunt, or Mama or even Bertram telling us how to go on!’
Tuesday dawned fine and clear, and spirits were high when the young people gathered at the breakfast table. Lady Leaconham was still uneasy and pointed to the strong sunshine as a reason for deferring the ride.
‘To be out of doors in the height of summer, exposed to the elements for hours on end,’ she said. ‘Just think of the damage to your complexions.’
Ann was quick to disclaim.
‘We will have our bonnets, Aunt, and we can always stop under the trees if we need to rest.’
‘But you cannot dismount,’ objected Lady Leaconham. ‘Who will look after your horses if you do not take your groom?’
> ‘You may be easy, Mama,’ put in Garston. ‘Hamilton, Camber and I will be there to take care of the ladies.’
‘Let them be, Letitia,’ said Lady Harworth before her sister could speak again. ‘Young people must be allowed a little freedom. And what harm can they come to as long as they are on our land?’
‘But what if one of them should fall…?’
Kitty could see that her godmother was not reassured and she gave her a quick hug.
‘Do not worry, ma’am, we will be riding directly to Titchwell and back again. I am not proficient enough for anything more than the gentlest of rides, is that not so, Ann?’
‘We will proceed with great decorum, I promise,’ said Ann, twinkling. ‘You may expect to see us back here in very good time for dinner!’
In high good humour the riders gathered in the stable yard an hour later. There were several minutes of noisy confusion as the horses were brought out and everyone mounted up. Kitty looked askance at Selby as he walked up to her, leading a very pretty grey mare.
‘Dapple has cast a shoe,’ explained the groom. ‘The mistress ordered Bianca to be saddled for you.’
Kitty eyed the mare doubtfully. She had grown used to the little pony and although the grey mare looked beautiful, she doubted she would be quite as docile as Dapple. She was obliged to take an extra step up on the mounting block to reach the saddle and she tried not to feel too nervous as she gathered up the reins.
‘Just remember all I’ve taught you, miss,’ said Selby as he adjusted the stirrup and checked the girth. ‘She’s a sturdy little mare, and will carry you all day without flagging, never fear.’
‘I seem so much further from the ground,’ said Kitty, trying a little laugh.
‘You will be safe enough on Bianca,’ said Ann soothingly. ‘She has no vicious habits. And if we get separated,’ she added, as she turned to lead the way out of the yard, ‘just give Bianca her head: she knows her way home!’
To Catch a Husband... Page 18