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Authors: Sarah Mallory

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She swallowed, her eyes fixed on Ann as she galloped up to the hedge and flew over it, skirts billowing around her.

‘A few small jumps with Dapple, nothing at all with this horse…’

‘This is Miss Harworth’s mare, is it not? I cannot imagine her keeping a horse that could not clear a barn.’ Daniel let go of the rein and rested his hand briefly over hers. ‘You can do it, Kitty. Follow me, hold on tight and leave everything to the mare.’ Kitty nodded and Daniel squeezed her fingers. His eyes crinkled as he gave her a quick smile. ‘Good girl!’

Another shout told them the mêlée was closing in on them again. Daniel kicked his horse into a trot and Kitty followed. Soon they were cantering across the grass. They were obliged to swerve to avoid a running man, but Kitty kept her eyes fixed on Daniel riding ahead of her, trying not to think of the hedge looming like a solid green wall in the distance. It was not high; she could see the others gathered on the far side, waiting for them. She forced herself not to pull on the reins and instead tried to push down on to the saddle, tightening her leg firmly around the pommel and struggling to remember everything Selby had taught her.

Daniel’s horse took the hedge with barely a break in its stride, then it was Kitty’s turn. She felt Bianca check slightly and gave her a little flick with her whip, urging her forwards. Suddenly the mare pushed off from her haunches and they were flying through the air, clearing the hedge easily and landing gracefully on the far side. The jolt as
they hit the ground almost unseated Kitty, but she clung on, aware of her friends’ cheers as they applauded her. She realised she had been holding her breath and let out a huge sigh as she straightened in the saddle and pulled on the reins to bring Bianca to a walk.

Nothing happened.

Bianca continued to canter across the field with Kitty pulling ineffectually on the reins. She heard Lizzie Camber scream, her brother shouted in alarm, but Bianca’s pace only quickened. They were galloping away from Harper’s Field and Kitty could do nothing to stop the mare’s headlong flight.

Kitty tried to relax her tense hands on the reins and commanded herself not to panic. She needed to concentrate upon keeping her balance and staying in the saddle. Bianca showed no inclination to swerve or buck but she had the bit between her teeth and was in no mood to slow down. Kitty managed a quick look behind and was relieved to see Daniel pursuing her. She settled into the saddle: his horse was so much bigger and faster, he could not fail to catch her very soon, she knew it.

By a cruel twist of fate the short turf was giving way to bracken and rough heathland with a narrow track through it, wide enough for a single horse. Kitty’s heart sank a little: Daniel would only be able to follow her. She tried tugging on the reins again, but Bianca’s neck was rigid, her ears flattened and she had no intention of stopping. There was nothing for it but to hang on.

‘Very well,’ muttered Kitty. ‘Run if you must, you will tire eventually.’

On and on they went, the mare negotiating the twists and turns of the path with sure-footed ease. The others would follow her, she was sure, even though she dared not look around: she needed to keep her eyes on the path
if she was not to be thrown off balance with any slight change of direction. The shouts and screams of the crowd had long ago disappeared and now the only sound was the thud of hooves and the creak of leather. The wind tugged at her bonnet, the ribbons came loose and she was unable to take a hand from the reins to prevent it being whipped away. As they rode further on to the moors she felt its chill seeping through her riding jacket. The path took a sudden upward turn and the mare’s headlong pace began to slow. Kitty seized her chance. She pulled hard on the reins and felt the mare respond, slowing to a walk just as the track widened.

Almost immediately Daniel was beside her. He reached over and caught the mare’s bridle, bringing both horses to a stand. Kitty realised she was shaking.

‘I c-couldn’t stop her.’

‘You did very well not to fall off.’

She managed a small smile.

‘Yes, I think so, too. Where are the others?’

‘I sent them home. If none of you arrives in time for dinner there will be panic at Kirkleigh.’

She nodded, then frowned at him.

‘But what were you doing in Harper’s Field?’

‘I know several members of the Anti-Slavery Society in this area. I had heard there was to be an open-air meeting at Chapeltown but it was only this morning that I realised how close you would be if you rode to Titchwell.’

‘So you came to join us?’

‘No! I came to get you away,’ he retorted. ‘These outdoor gatherings often end in rioting. I rode to the Star to tell you that you should avoid Chapeltown on your return journey, but I arrived too late. The landlord told me you had already set out for the meeting.’

‘I did not realise.’ Kitty shivered. ‘Everything started so well…’

‘Aye, that’s the devil of it. The innocent and the curious find themselves caught up in violence. Those opposed to the movement often pay gangs of men to break up open meetings such as this one. There’s more than one man in this area that would not be above such tricks.’

‘Do—do you mean they c-came with the sole purpose of fighting?’ Kitty shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘I thought it was merely the heat, and too much ale…’ She swayed in the saddle and Daniel quickly slipped from his horse.

‘Come,’ he said. ‘You should rest a little.’

She kicked her foot free of the stirrup and slid down into his waiting arms.

‘I d-do not think my legs will hold me.’

‘They will not need to.’ In one smooth movement he swept her up, just as everything went black.

 

When Kitty opened her eyes she could not at first remember what had happened. She was lying on a bed of soft bracken, the smell of peat and hum of insects filling her senses. She moved her head and saw Daniel standing beside the horses. He had removed his jacket and waistcoat and was wiping the sweat from Bianca with handfuls of dried grass, his arm sweeping over the mare’s flanks in a smooth, graceful arc. As if aware of her eyes upon him he turned, and after giving the mare a final pat he threw away the makeshift brush and strode towards her.

‘So you are awake.’ He dropped down beside her. ‘How do you feel now?’

She did not answer immediately and instead looked sleepily at the way the slight breeze rippled the fine linen of his shirt, outlining the muscled body beneath. She closed
her eyes again as the pleasant image was marred by returning memory. She struggled to sit up and immediately his arm was around her shoulders, supporting her.

‘Oh, dear,’ she muttered, ‘how…how
feeble
of me to faint off like that. I must get up…’

‘Do not try to stand just yet. There is no hurry.’

‘But there is! I must get back to Kirkleigh before dark.’

‘Impossible.’ Kitty stopped struggling. He said, ‘It is at least two hours’ ride and the sun is setting. We will ride as far as we can while it is still light, then we must take shelter until the moon rises. You are very pale,’ he added quietly. ‘I wish I had something for you to drink…’

She dragged up a smile.

‘I will be very well again in a moment. You have done more than enough for me already, coming to my rescue.’

He shrugged. ‘That was nothing; you had already regained control when I reached you.’

‘No, not for following after me, although I am very grateful to you for doing so! I meant back at the meeting, when that man was about to attack…’

She shivered and as his arm tightened around her it seemed quite natural to shrink towards him and rest her head against his chest.

‘I would not let anyone harm you.’

His words and the solid, steady thud of his heart beneath her cheek was very soothing. She closed her eyes, breathing in the familiar, reassuring scent of him, a mix of wool, soap and spices.

‘You are a good friend to me, Daniel.’

He did not reply, merely squeezed her fingers and for several minutes they sat together in silence, staring out across the heath. It was so peaceful that Kitty was almost disappointed when Daniel suddenly jumped to his feet.

‘We should move on, if you are able.’

He put on his waistcoat and shrugged himself into his jacket. His tone was brisk and Kitty felt a stab of guilt. No doubt he had made plans for this evening and they would now be ruined.

‘Yes, of course,’ she said quietly. ‘I feel much better now.’

Silently she took the hand he held out to her and allowed him to pull her up. He walked her over to the grey mare and without ceremony he put his hands about her waist and threw her up lightly into the saddle. She looked down at him, a slight frown creasing her brow as he adjusted her stirrup. His face was stern, almost forbidding, but as if aware of her gaze he glanced up.

‘Do not look so anxious,’ he said gently. ‘You will be back at Kirkleigh soon after midnight.’

‘Yes, of course. It is very good of you to give up your time for me like this.’

His brows rose.

‘Would you have preferred to find your way alone?’

‘No, of course not, but the others…’

‘They were all shaken by what they had witnessed. Miss Camber especially was very distressed. I thought it best they should return together. Besides, Marnie was by far the fastest horse, so it was logical for me to come after you.’

His answer was so matter of fact she felt quite daunted and did not venture to speak again. He scrambled into the saddle and led the way across the heath towards the road that could be seen snaking through the valley below them. As they rode Kitty watched a line of thick grey cloud bubbling up in the west. As soon as the path widened she brought Bianca alongside Daniel’s black mare.

‘When the sun drops behind that cloud it will very soon grow too dark to go on.’

He nodded. ‘We have a little time yet: we will head for the road. It will be easier to find shelter down there. I doubt you had anticipated such an adventurous day’s ride, Miss Wythenshawe.’

‘Certainly not!’ She tried to match his bantering tone. ‘I expected the most exciting part of the day would be a short gallop.’

‘Lord Harworth will take care not to let you go out alone in future.’

‘Will he be very angry, do you think?’

‘No, no. He will be anxious, of course, but you may have noticed that his sister can wind him around her finger.’ A smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. ‘My own sister is just such a minx!’ He paused. ‘Harworth is a good man at heart, and a responsible landlord. However, there is a lot he has to learn about running a mill.’

‘And can you teach him that?’ she asked, turning her head to look at him.

‘I shall try. It is something I have grown up with.’

‘Has your family always been involved in spinning?’

‘With cloth, certainly. My grandfather was a merchant. He was obliged to travel widely throughout the north, collecting pieces—woven sections of cloth—from the weavers who lived in the little villages throughout the area. He traded in all sorts of cloth, calimancoes, serges, camlets and so on. Grandfather encouraged his younger sons to build a mill, just over the Pennines in Lancashire. Using Arkwright’s new cotton machines they soon had a thriving business. My uncle still owns that mill, but my father wanted to return to Hestonroyd so he built his first mill there. I grew up with the business. I have worked beside my father in each new venture.’

‘It must be very rewarding.’

‘It is, but it is not to be undertaken lightly.’

Daniel began to explain to her about the responsibilities of a mill owner and she listened, fascinated as he told her how his father had built sturdy new cottages for the workers, schools for the children, about the doctor he employed to make regular visits to his mills. She put in questions occasionally, but they were hardly necessary: he was eager to talk.

‘Why are you telling me all this, Mr Blackwood?’ she asked him, when at last he fell silent. ‘Do you explain your business to everyone in such detail?’

He did not answer her immediately, but kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead of them.

‘Lord Harworth has excellent intentions,’ he said at last. ‘But I fear that he may not understand that a mill requires constant supervision. It is easy to be tempted into cutting costs and making short-term profits at the expense of the workers. I believe that you will be in a position to remind him of his duties, when other interests distract him.’

‘I—I fear I do not understand,’ she stammered.

‘You will be able to look after the welfare of your people, when you are Lady Harworth.’

The sudden disappearance of the sun made Kitty aware of the chill breeze cutting through her riding jacket.

‘I…I think you are mistaken,’ she muttered. ‘L-Lord Harworth has not made me an offer.’

‘Perhaps not, but it is his intention to do so.’ He glanced at her, his face shuttered. ‘It is what you want, is it not?’

‘I—’ Kitty swallowed. ‘Why…yes, I suppose…’

‘As Lady Harworth you will be in a position of influence,’ he said. ‘You will be able to ensure your mill-workers are treated well. Yours will be a very important role.’

Kitty was silent. So Daniel, too, thought Lord Harworth would offer for her. She bit her lip. Surely she should be happier than this at the prospect, but all she felt was
confusion. The darkness that was enveloping them seemed to enter her very being, weighing her down.

‘We will have to stop soon.’ He pointed to a rocky out-crop looming over them. It had been quarried away to form a large semi-circular space beside the road. ‘We could shelter there for an hour or so, or we could go on; there should be an inn somewhere along this road…’

‘Let us stop here,’ Kitty begged, exhausted as much by the tumult raging within as by her ordeal.

They moved into the shelter of the rocks and Daniel lifted Kitty from her horse. This time he released her almost before her feet touched the ground, increasing her feeling of desolation.

While Daniel saw to the horses she walked over to sit on a low ledge that formed a natural bench, the stone rising smooth and sheer at her back. Night fell rapidly. Bianca became a vague grey shape and she could not make out the black horse at all. When Daniel turned and walked towards her she could see only the pale blur of his face and his white neckcloth.

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