‘I wonder that you will take so much time over these gardens, Mama, when you never stay here,’ said Ann, smothering a yawn.
‘One never knows what might happen,’ replied Lady Harworth, leading them back towards the house. ‘I am minded to live here, should Bertram take a wife.’
Lady Leaconham was looking about her anxiously. She waited for Ann to come up to her and said casually, ‘Ann, dear, is your brother not joining us today?’
‘Oh, Bertram is around somewhere … yes, here he is now.’
Kitty found herself smiling at her godmother’s look of relief when Lord Harworth emerged from the house, Mr Blackwood walking beside him.
‘My apologies that I was not here to greet you, ma’am,’ said Lord Harworth, bowing over his aunt’s hand. ‘Blackwood and I were looking at the new range we have installed in the kitchen—the latest thing, you know, enclosed firebox, bigger hot-water tank …’
‘Oh, Bertram, our guests are not interested in that,’ protested Ann.
‘Not yet, perhaps,’ put in Daniel. ‘It may not be so necessary on a warm day like today, but imagine yourself coming in after a day’s hunting, muddy and dirty and wanting a bath before going down to dinner. By keeping a small fire in the range there will always be hot water for you.’
He was smiling directly at Kitty, who found herself wanting to smile back until Lady Harworth’s voice cut across the moment.
‘Very interesting to you, I am sure, Mr Blackwood, since you understand these things and are always talking to my son about spinning jennies and water frames, but I do not think our guests wish to concern themselves with the domestic arrangements of the house, what do you say, Miss Wythenshawe?’
Everyone’s attention turned to Kitty. Her godmother was watching her and she read the appeal in her eyes—she must not appear provincial. She thought of her mother and her aunt in their cottage in Fallridge, cooking on the little hob-grate with only a maidservant to help them.
‘You must excuse me,’ she said quietly, ‘I know nothing of cooks and kitchens.’
‘That is not to say she is not an excellent housekeeper,’ Lady Leaconham rushed in, giving a nervous laugh. ‘But I doubt my goddaughter has ever had the need to venture into a kitchen. Am I correct, Kitty?’
‘No, I have not.’
‘Then Miss Wythenshawe is very fortunate,’ murmured Daniel.
His smile had disappeared and Kitty wanted to protest, to explain that it was not because she had an army of servants at her beck and call 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