A Regency Baron's Bride: To Catch a Husband... / The Wicked Baron. Sarah Mallory

found herself smiling up at him.

      ‘Perfectly, Mr Blackwood.’

      Kitty would never forget that final country dance at Harworth House. It was hot and noisy and it seemed as if all the world was crushed into the ballroom, everyone bouncing and skipping, laughing and shouting and determined to expend every last ounce of energy before they went home. Garston and Lord Harworth were on the floor, each squiring a handsome young lady, and at one point she came close to Ann dancing with the fair-haired Adonis, but Kitty hardly noticed them. All her attention was on Daniel. She no longer thought him dark and menacing. She could see beyond the rather austere cast of his countenance to the warmth in his dark eyes, the faint curve of his lips that was not quite a smile yet told her he was happy to be at her side. He was not the tallest man in the room yet to Kitty he stood head and shoulders above every other gentleman. He held her hand and led her confidently about the room, skilfully manoeuvring to put himself in the way and prevent her from being buffeted by the jostling dancers. He bore no resemblance to the boorish brute who had treated her so abominably, but instead was more like a guardian angel, strong, gentle and protective. She stole another look at him as he danced her down the line. No, not an angel: the strong jaw and athletic frame were more those of a warrior. A hero. By the time the music ended Kitty was the victim of such conflicting emotions that she dare not even look at her partner. She wanted to appear calm and assured, but she suddenly felt extremely shy.

      Daniel was enjoying himself. It surprised him, for the stately minuets of the first part of the evening had been a lifetime away from the lively dances he had enjoyed at home and, although he had partnered one or two of the blushing young ladies Lady Harworth had brought up to him, he had found the evening a little dull. He had even considered how soon he would be able to make his excuses and retire. If Harworth had not persuaded him to stay in Cavendish Square he could have excused himself on the grounds of the long journey back to Greenwich. To leave the party and travel no further than the next floor would be the height of incivility.

      He had been aware of Miss Wythenshawe from the first moment he had looked up and seen her at the top of the stairs, such a delightful smile on her face that his heart had flipped over, until he came to his senses and realised that there was no possibility that she could have directed such a smile at him, and he looked around him, trying to discover just who was the lucky recipient of her favour. He had done his best to prevent his eyes dwelling on her as she glided about the room in her sparkling white gown, her dark curls glowing in the candlelight. She had made it very plain that she despised him and thus she was not worth his notice. When Harworth had insisted he lead her on to the floor Daniel had fully intended to leave her after that first dance together, to make some excuse to quit the ballroom, but she had been so light on his arm, had danced so beautifully that he had forgotten she was the proud disdainful woman who had scorned him. He saw only an entrancing, ethereal creature that bewitched his senses. So he persuaded himself that it was only polite to remain for the last set. Harworth would expect it of him.

      The final, energetic measure of the evening was much more like the assemblies he attended at Hestonroyd: too many dancers, too little space. He remembered standing up with his sister Bella, leading her through the movement of the dance and all the time trying to protect her from the other couples who were charging up and down the room. But this silver and white creature beside him was most definitely not his bouncing, boisterous sister! He was almost sorry when the music ended. He stood beside his partner as they joined in the spontaneous applause for themselves and the musicians, then he held out his arm, ready to escort her back to Lady Leaconham. Some of his good mood evaporated when he looked down at the still little figure beside him. Her lips were firmly closed and she laid only the tips of her fingers on his sleeve, as if she could not bring herself to touch him. He was disappointed at the change from his lively, sparkling dance partner. Silently he delivered her back to Lady Leaconham but in response to his parting bow her thanks to him were uttered in a cold, stilted manner and she turned away immediately. Daniel’s jaw tightened. So much for enchantment!

      ‘An excellent evening, eh, Blackwood?’ Lord Harworth came up to him, his mother leaning on his arm. ‘I hope you enjoyed yourself, sir. ‘Twas your first ball here in Town, was it not?’

      ‘It was, my lord.’

      ‘I doubt you have such glittering occasions in the north, Mr Blackwood,’ remarked Lady Harworth.

      ‘Certainly we cannot boast such elevated society as one finds in Town, ma’am,’ returned Daniel, ‘but we have our balls and assemblies.’

      ‘Indeed, Mama, they ain’t savages,’ chuckled Lord Harworth. ‘And we shall soon be adding to the society, ma’am, will we not?’ He turned to Daniel, smiling. ‘Mama has suggested that we should open Kirkleigh Hall and take a party to Yorkshire in July. You suggested we should travel north to look at the mills and Kirkleigh is perfectly placed between Hestonroyd and Arkwright’s mills at Cromford, less than a day’s ride from either place. No harm in mixing a little business with pleasure, eh, Blackwood?’

      ‘No indeed, my lord,’ said Daniel. ‘Although I had planned to show you more than just Cromford: if you are serious in building a mill of your own we shall not have a great deal of time for society—’

      ‘Nonsense, sir, there is always time for society!’ declared Lord Harworth. ‘We shall take a little longer over the business, that is all, and I have no doubt Mama will like to entertain while we are there—even a ball, eh, Mama, now you have seen Blackwood dance? I am sure we can find you a few pretty girls to stand up with, although none to surpass your last partner.’ He gave Daniel a playful dig in the ribs. ‘Exceptionally pretty little thing, ain’t she?’

      ‘Miss Wythenshawe?’ said Daniel coolly. ‘She is far above my touch.’

      ‘Indeed?’ said Lady Harworth, suddenly showing an interest. She turned to watch Kitty as she walked out of the room. ‘Letitia was not very forthcoming about her family. I believe she comes from the north, too—do you know her family, Mr Blackwood? Are they very wealthy?’

      Lord Harworth laughed.

      ‘Must be as rich as Croesus if they won’t look at Blackwood, Mama. His family owns half of the West Riding!’

      Daniel disclaimed, but Lady Harworth was not listening. She excused herself, saying, ‘I believe my dear sister is about to leave, and I must go and say goodbye to her.’

      ‘Well, that was a success and no mistake!’ Lady Leaconham settled herself back into the corner of her carriage and gave a satisfied sigh. ‘You danced every dance, and I cannot tell you how many compliments I received for you, my love! You were enchanting.’

      Kitty gave a little nod but said nothing. She knew that at least one person was less than delighted with her. She had been quite dismayed by her behaviour towards Daniel Blackwood at the end of the evening, when she had suddenly been overcome with nerves. She had intended to be charmingly grateful for his standing up with her, yet when she spoke she had been cool to the point of rudeness. Even now she was embarrassed to think of it.

      So she would not, she decided quickly. She would concentrate instead upon what her godmother was saying.

      ‘Yes, Kitty dear, I could see from the first that Lady Harworth was disposed to like you. I was afraid she might think you a little too pretty, but with your dark hair you are such a contrast to Ann’s fair beauty that you complement one another perfectly! And nothing could have exceeded Clara’s affability, when she came up to us just as we were leaving. She hinted at many more invitations this summer.’

      ‘How delightful for you, Godmama.’

      ‘For me? Kitty, you little goose, the invitations will be for you, too.’

      ‘But I have already been with you for a whole month, ma’am. I thought I should be thinking of returning home very soon …’

      ‘Nonsense,’ retorted her godmother briskly. ‘A month is nothing, and if my niece has taken to you then nothing could be better than for the two of you to be seen together—so much more attractive than to be always accompanied by a matron!’ Lady