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

‘Out of the question, sir,’ she said crisply, leaving her chair and walking away from him. ‘Why, we hardly know each other. And I am sure your family has no idea of your marrying a penniless bride.’

Daniel rose to his feet, not knowing if he was more relieved or disappointed at her response. Did she think so little of him that he was not even to be considered as a husband?

‘No, of course not, but neither would they have me compromise a young lady.’

She was standing with her back to him but at this she turned. The lighted candles behind her framed her dark head with a golden halo, but the shadows concealed her expression.

‘Then we must hope word does not get abroad,’ she said quietly. ‘Perhaps you would be good enough to—what is the term?—grease a few palms to ensure it does not. I shall retire now, and in the morning we may behave as if this evening never occurred.’

‘If that is what you want.’

‘It is.’ She added lightly, ‘Have I not told you that I intend to marry a lord?’

She gave him a little curtsy and went out, leaving Daniel staring at the empty space.

Chapter Six (#ulink_bf1a5e28-1562-5a77-85ae-ef42afc253e2)

Kitty entered the bedchamber quietly to find Lady Leaconham still sleeping soundly. She undressed quietly and slipped between the sheets, careful not to disturb her godmother.

The noise from the street had died away almost completely but despite this and the lateness of the hour, it was some time before Kitty fell asleep. Her body was still tingling with the excitement of being crushed in Daniel’s arms, her lips still bruised from his kiss. It had been shocking, yes, but she had not been frightened. She had found it fiercely exhilarating. Even now she felt more alive than ever before. She did not want to sleep, she wanted to stay awake and relive that startling, earth-shaking embrace over and over again. The mere thought of it sent an aching excitement shooting through her. She turned on her side and curled up, hugging the feeling to her. She wanted to remember for ever those few short hours spent with Daniel, because they could never be repeated. It was not allowed for respectable young ladies to kiss gentlemen they were not going to marry, and Daniel had no intention of marrying her. He had suggested it, but only because he thought he had compromised her—had he not agreed that his family would not want him to take a penniless bride? And her own family, her mother, Aunt Jane, Godmama—they all expected her to make a very good match. She had been sent to London with the express intention of finding a husband, and she knew that in her mother’s eyes at least, a mill-owner’s son was not an eligible suitor. Kitty sighed and closed her eyes. Images of Daniel Blackwood filled her mind and another delicious tingle ran through her.

Stop this, she told herself fiercely. His actions were not those of a gentleman. No man of honour would have pounced on her in such a savage way. A man of honour, she decided, would have treated her with respect and even if he had been violently in love with her—which Daniel most definitely was not—he would have suppressed his feelings and done nothing more than plant a fervent kiss upon her fingers.

Kitty put her hand to her lips. There had been nothing suppressed about Daniel’s embrace. He was clearly not an honourable gentleman. She had the daunting feeling that no honourable gentleman would ever be so exciting.

Despite the clatter of traffic from the street below their window, Lady Leaconham enjoyed a good night’s sleep, waking refreshed and eager for news of her son. In contrast, Kitty’s spirits were heavy and lethargic but she tried to conceal this as she helped her godmother to dress and then followed her down to the private parlour, where they had been informed that Lord Leaconham was waiting for them.

They found Garston and Daniel seated at the table, which had been laid for breakfast. Although Garston replied breezily to his mother’s anxious enquiries, Kitty thought he looked decidedly pale and drawn. By comparison, Daniel appeared full of vigour and vitality and it was with some trepidation that Kitty took her seat beside him. In the bright light of a summer’s morning the parlour seemed a different world from the cosy, candlelit room she and Daniel has shared, but she was painfully aware of him beside her, his long fingers wrapped around a coffee cup where last night they had been warm on her shoulders. His very presence was like a magnet, tugging at her body. She wanted to lean towards him, to be touching him …

‘Kitty, my love, you are shivering,’ observed Lady Leaconham. ‘Perhaps you should run upstairs and fetch your shawl.’

‘I am quite warm enough, ma’am,’ said Kitty hastily, aware of Daniel’s keen eyes turned towards her. ‘I am a little tired, that is all.’

‘That is no wonder,’ remarked Lady Leaconham, helping herself to a slice of bread and butter. ‘I woke some time before midnight and you were not in your bed.’

Beneath the table Daniel’s knee touched hers and Kitty jumped. Her whole body was a tingling, jangling mass of nerves. She stole a glance at Daniel. He had not looked up but his studied indifference made her wonder if the contact had been accidental. She struggled to concentrate upon her reply to Lady Leaconham.

‘I came downstairs for a little supper, ma’am.’

‘Oh? And what did you eat? After Garston’s experience yesterday I am reluctant to break my fast here, but I cannot think there is any danger in taking a little bread and butter.’ She cast a doubtful glance at her son’s plate, piled with thick slices of ham and cold beef. ‘You certainly seem to have regained your appetite, my love.’

Garston’s mouth was too full to reply but Daniel said coolly, ‘I believe a good breakfast will aid Lord Leaconham’s recovery.’

Garston gave him a rather sheepish look and swallowed hard.

‘Aye, it will indeed,’ he agreed. ‘Just what I need. I shall be well enough to travel back to Town with you today, Mama, never fear.’

‘And I shall ride with you,’ said Daniel. He turned to Kitty. ‘May I pour you a little more coffee, Miss Wythenshawe? And perhaps you would like another bread roll?’

‘Coffee, thank you, but no more to eat.’

‘I hope your … supper did not prevent you from sleeping,’ he remarked as he filled her cup.

Kitty felt the blood rushing to her cheeks.

‘N-no.’ His countenance was impassive but she observed the glint in his dark eyes and added firmly, ‘I slept very well. I know of no reason why I should not do so.’

‘Do you not?’

The blush on Kitty’s cheeks deepened and she could only pray that the others were too intent upon their breakfast to notice her discomfiture. She shot Daniel an angry look.

‘No,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘Nothing worthy of comment at all.’

With a smile, Daniel returned his attention to his breakfast. Was it cruel of him to tease her? Perhaps, but she looked so delightful when she was flustered. The touch of her leg against his had not been deliberate, she was far too respectable for that, but it had taken all his will-power not to react. That brief contact had sent a warm thrill rushing through him, reminding him again of the excitement he had felt when he kissed her. But he must be careful. He picked up his cup. There would be the devil to pay if last night’s little encounter should be discovered. Doubtless he would be expected to marry the chit.

It was a sudden shock to realise that the idea rather appealed to him.

‘Mr Blackwood, you have spilled your coffee!’

Lady Leaconham’s voice recalled his wandering thoughts.

‘I beg your pardon.’ He looked down. The coffee had slopped on to his empty plate. ‘That was very careless of me.’ He shot a quick, apologetic glance at Kitty. ‘Thankfully there is no harm done. This time.’

She met his eyes fleetingly.

‘You must be careful to make sure it doesn’t happen again.’

Her tone was cool but he was certain she was not talking about the spilling of his drink but of that blazing, explosive kiss they had shared last night. They had agreed the matter was best forgotten but after a night’s reflection Daniel found he did not want to forget it. Kitty’s reaction when he had kissed her convinced him that she was not indifferent to him, but could he be wrong? Was it possible that she had put the matter from her mind? He did not think so. He wanted to talk to her but she gave him no opportunity to do so, staying close to her godmother for the remainder of the morning and ignoring him when he tried to hand her into the carriage, turning instead to Leaconham to perform that duty. After that he could only ride beside the carriage, knowing Kitty was only feet away from him.

‘I trust Lord Harworth will not be too put out with you for your absence last night, sir,’ said Lady Leaconham when they arrived at Portman Square and she took her leave of him. Kitty, he noticed, said nothing, merely standing on the doorstep with her eyes downcast.

‘I sent a messenger to him yesterday evening, to explain the situation.’

‘Ah, of course. And I hope you will escort my son to his rooms—’

‘Dash it all, Mama, I ain’t in need of a nursemaid!’ cried Garston, poking his head out of the carriage window. ‘I am perfectly capable of getting myself home. Drive on, Dawkins!’

He dragged his hat from his fair head and waved it towards the coachman. Daniel nodded to Lady Leaconham.

‘You need not worry, ma’am. I’ll see him home safely.’

Then with a nod of his head he turned his horse and rode off. There would be no tête-à-tête with Miss Kitty Wythenshawe today. Perhaps that was for the best, he thought as he rode out of Portman Square, for the very unsettling idea was taking hold of him that where Miss Wythenshawe was concerned, he was standing on the edge of a precipice.

‘Well, there is no doubt about it,’ declared Lady Leaconham, leading the way into the house, ‘Mr Blackwood is much more gentlemanly than I had at first thought. To be sure, he does not smile a great deal or go out of his way to make himself agreeable, but his stopping at the inn to look after Garston, and escorting us home was uncommon kind!’ Her brows drew together. ‘Do you think he has formed a tendre for you, my love?’

‘F-for me?’ said Kitty, forcing a laugh. ‘What an absurd idea! He never speaks to me but to pick a quarrel!’

‘Well, I am relieved to hear it,’ said her godmother. ‘Pleasant Mr Blackwood may be, but he is nothing compared to Lord Harworth. He is in trade and thus not to be considered at this stage. I think we had best concentrate on securing Bertram’s interest in you. Ah, Meakin, there you are.’ She turned to address her maid who was hurrying down the stairs and she continued in a much weaker voice, ‘I need you to help me to my room. What with the anxiety over my son, and being obliged to remain overnight in a common coaching inn, my poor nerves are in shreds.’