To Catch a Husband... (18 page)

Lord Harworth blinked at him.

‘I do not see… Well, perhaps not, I shall have to consider carefully, of course.’ He bent another beaming smile at Kitty. ‘I admit the temptation is very great!’

‘We should of course be delighted to have you join us,’ said Ann, not quite truthfully. She gazed up more hopefully at Daniel. ‘Perhaps you, too, would like to ride over and join us, Mr Blackwood? It promises to be a very jolly party.’

Ann’s smile awoke no response in Daniel. He scarcely heard her, his mind working out an excuse to get away before he said something he would regret.

‘Alas, no,’ he said shortly. ‘I have engagements that day that cannot be put off. In fact, I have work tomorrow that requires an early start so I must take my leave of you now. If you will excuse me.’

Kitty’s feelings were mixed as he gave a stiff bow and walked off. His presence unsettled her, but with his departure the room seemed a little less bright. Ann gave an uncertain laugh.

‘Well, do you think I frightened him off, that he dashed away so suddenly? He looks so serious.’

‘No, no, sister, Blackwood
always
looks serious!’

‘He is a manufacturer,’ said Mr Hamilton, raising his quizzing glass to watch Daniel’s retreating figure. ‘Such men would have us believe there is no time for anything but work.’

‘I believe supervising the proper running of a mill does take a great deal of effort,’ observed Kitty.

Ann pouted.

‘Then I do not think you should build one, Bertram, if it leaves you no time for pleasure.’

‘Pho, that is why we have managers and overseers,’ declared her brother. ‘Have no fear, Ann my love. Once the mill is up and running I do not expect it to take up much of my time at all. In fact, I mean to ask Blackwood to find me a good man to run the mill for me.’

‘So you are serious about this mill business,’ remarked Mr Hamilton.

‘Yes, most certainly. The improvements I have made on my estates here mean that we no longer need so many people. Best to employ ’em to my benefit than to have them a burden to the parish. Blackwood’s invited me to see his own mill over at Hestonroyd tomorrow. Perhaps you should come with me, Hamilton, to see for yourself how these new manufactories are run.’

‘Not I, my lord!,’ laughed Hamilton, throwing up his hands. ‘I never had any head for business.’

Ann shook her head and laid a hand on her brother’s arm.

‘Oh, Bertram, surely you saw enough of mills and machinery at Cromford! How can you think anyone would be interested in such things?’

‘I am,’ said Kitty, greatly daring. Her spirit quailed as every eye turned in her direction. She swallowed. ‘I would very much like to see a spinning mill, my lord.’

‘Would you now, Miss Wythenshawe?’ After his initial shock, Lord Harworth beamed at her.

‘Yes, I would,’ she declared bravely. ‘Very much.’

‘But, Kitty, we are going to take our sketchpads and easels into the park tomorrow and paint views of the house,’ Ann reminded her.

‘You can easily do that another day,’ put in Lady Leaconham, coming up. ‘I am sure Bertram would be delighted to have company tomorrow.’

‘I would indeed,’ declared her nephew. ‘Perhaps we should make up a party…’

Kitty noted with wry amusement that this suggestion found little favour with the other guests, who all found reasons why they should remain in the luxurious surroundings of Kirkleigh Hall the following day.

‘Well, if Kitty is determined to go then I shall go too,’ declared Ann. ‘You will not object to that, will you, Brother? And that way Kitty and I can chaperon each other. There will be no need for Mama or my aunt to come with us.’

Thus by the time the tea tray was carried in, the visit was arranged to everyone’s satisfaction and the carriage was ordered for early the following morning.

‘Well, what a clever little puss you are,’ murmured Lady Leaconham, tucking her arm through Kitty’s and taking her off to sit with her on a sofa by the window. ‘I should never have thought of suggesting you go to the mill with Bertram, but it was very well done of you. He could not fail to be flattered by your interest.’

‘I had no idea of flattering Lord Harworth,’ Kitty protested. ‘I truly want to see the mill.’

‘Of course you do,’ replied her godmother with a maddening smile. ‘And nothing could make it plainer to my nephew that you are just the wife for him!’ She patted
Kitty’s hands. ‘Do not look so dismayed, my love. It was a little bold of you, to be sure, but it may be just the nudge Bertram needs to offer for you!’

A
fter an early breakfast the next morning Kitty set off for Hestonroyd with Ann and Lord Harworth in an open carriage. As the miles sped by it occurred to her that they would not have to travel much further to reach Fallridge and her home, but she kept these thoughts to herself, remembering her promise to her godmother not to talk of her family. She longed to see Mama and Aunt Jane, imagining their pleasure at all she would be able to tell them, but it was not only Lady Leaconham’s wish that she should not visit Fallridge while she was a guest at Kirkleigh. Mama too had expressly forbidden her to call.

Lord Harworth was addressing her and she looked up to respond. She was a little embarrassed in his company, conscious that by expressing her interest in visiting Hestonroyd everyone assumed she was determined to become Lady Harworth. Kitty thought of her mother’s letters, the constant reminders that she should strive to find a suitable husband, but even the thought that Mama would approve of her actions brought her little comfort. Kitty sighed.
Papa had always insisted that high rank and titles counted for very little, but it seemed that everyone else she knew, including Mama, thought they counted for a great deal. Her family would be very disappointed in her if she threw away her chance to marry a lord.

‘Ah. We are nearly there now.’

Lord Harworth’s words recalled her wandering thoughts. The carriage had slowed and now turned off the main highway to follow a well-made, winding road that led down into a thickly wooded valley. There was no opportunity to see very far ahead as the road twisted back and forth in its descent, but eventually they rounded the final bend and there before her was Hestonroyd Mill. She gasped, staring wide-eyed at the huge building that filled the narrow valley bottom. The stone walls were punctuated with dozens of windows on each of its four floors and the slate roof was surmounted by an elegant bell tower, not to call the faithful to worship, she knew, but to summon the workers to their posts.

The road descended to run alongside the mill, separated from it by a fast-flowing stream. They crossed the bridge and drove under the arch that led into a large courtyard, bustling with people and wagons. The clatter of hooves echoed against the stone walls, for the mill continued on three sides, while on the fourth was a series of smaller buildings. The carriage drew up outside the biggest of these, a square house that looked very much like a gentleman’s residence but which Lord Harworth declared would be the offices. A sound like distant thunder reverberated through the yard and Ann looked around nervously.

‘What is that noise?’

‘The machinery,’ said her brother. ‘Water frames that turn dozens, even hundreds of spindles at a time, produc
ing more yarn in a week than a woman could spin in a lifetime.’

As Kitty followed Ann down from the carriage, Daniel appeared. Lord Harworth hailed him, saying easily, ‘Hope you don’t object, Blackwood, but the ladies wanted to come with me. Miss Wythenshawe especially is eager to see inside your mill!’

Kitty’s cheeks grew warm as Daniel’s dark, unfathomable glance rested upon her.

‘No,’ he said at last. ‘I have no objection at all, but I would warn you that the noise and bustle of a mill can be overwhelming.’

‘You employ women here, do you not, Mr Blackwood?’ asked Kitty, brows raised. ‘I am sure if they can live with it day after day then we can put up with the…
noise and bustle,
as you put it, for an hour or so.’

Daniel looked surprised, but she read approval in his hard eyes and felt a faint glow of satisfaction.

He nodded.

‘Very well then. If you would like to come this way?’

They crossed the yard, keeping close to Daniel. Looking about her, Kitty saw that everyone was working busily, loading wagons or pushing handcarts across the cobbles, while all around them the mill rumbled and growled like some huge, sleeping monster. The noise of the machines grew louder as they stepped into the mill.

‘We have spinning shops on all four floors,’ said Daniel, leading them towards a heavy wooden door. ‘No need to see them all, but I’ll take you through a couple of them. Please be sure to stand clear of the mules—’

‘Mules?’ Ann repeated.

‘The spinning mules—machines,’ explained Daniel. ‘They travel out over the floor and have moving parts that can snatch at your gown if you stand too close.’

He opened the door. As Kitty stepped into the spinning shop the deafening noise was like a physical assault. She glanced at Ann, who was clinging to her brother’s arm, looking about her wide-eyed. The floor shook beneath their feet and the whole room seemed to be one seething, boiling mass of movement. It was very bright from the many windows on all sides. Banks of machines—the mules—ran the width of the building, each one carrying large spools of creamy-grey yarn.

Daniel was explaining the process to Lord Harworth and Kitty had to draw closer to hear anything at all. She heard him mention creels and bobbins, tops and roving and headstock, but it was difficult to concentrate with the incessant clatter of the machinery. She watched, fascinated, as the lower part of the mule moved out slowly. The thick yarns were paid out and twisted, then as the mule stopped and returned, the twisted thread was gathered up on the spindles.

She jumped when strong hands gripped her arms.

‘You are too close.’ Daniel’s mouth was close to her ear. He was pulling her back away from the machines. ‘Please, stand over here with the others, out of the way.’

Mortified, Kitty stood in one corner with Ann and Lord Harworth, watching the slow process of the spinning being repeated over and over again. She had not intended to draw attention to herself, but now she feared Daniel would think her troublesome. Another black mark against her. She allowed her eyes to shift to Daniel. He was walking between the machines, surveying the room, his keen eyes taking in everything. He stopped occasionally, exchanging a word here, issuing an instruction there. He stood tall, his black-coated figure conspicuous against the lighter, dust-covered clothes of the spinners. He was master here and it showed in the proud line of his bearing. She glanced at
Lord Harworth, who was trying to hide a yawn behind his hand. She doubted he could ever be as at home in this noisy, busy place.

They moved on, taking the stairs to another spinning shop then on to the packing rooms. Daniel pointed out the joiners’ and mechanics’ workshops, and then took them off to see the huge water wheel that provided the power for the machines. His pride in the mill was evident. He was familiar with every process, every machine within his mill. He knew every man’s name and it was apparent to Kitty that they esteemed him. There was no servile bowing and scraping when he was near, they were all too busy for that, but they responded with alacrity when he spoke to them, regarding him with respect.

‘Well, I think we must have seen everything now,’ declared Lord Harworth, taking out his watch. ‘Do not forget we were going to discuss the returns I can expect on my investment, Blackwood. The wages you pay, working hours and the like.’

‘We will go back to the office for that,’ said Daniel. ‘James Stoodley is my mill manager and I think it would be useful for him to be present.’

‘Very well, then. Lead on, sir!’

‘I have instructed that refreshments should be brought to the office,’ said Daniel as he took them back across the yard, stopping to allow a string of pack-ponies to pass. He pointed to the large bundles wrapped in oil-cloth strapped to each pony. ‘That’s the tops, the rough wool that we spin into yarn. It has been sorted and combed by families in the outlying villages, then my agents collect it up and bring it here for spinning.’

‘It is my head that is spinning,’ replied Ann, throwing a humorous glance up at Daniel. ‘I vow I shall be glad to sit down for a little while.’

Kitty, too, was thankful when they reached the manager’s office. It was a large panelled room overlooking the yard and it was mercifully cool and quiet. The large desk had been cleared and it now held a tray laden with decanters and glasses and a small plate of macaroons.

‘I am afraid I only have wine, ratafia or water to offer you,’ said Daniel. ‘If I had known you were bringing ladies with you, my lord, I would have arranged for some lemonade to be prepared. I am sorry, too, that my father is not here to meet you. He has taken my mother and sister to Harrogate and will not be back until next week.’

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…