Rebecca felt her spirits sink.
“Looking a bit smarter than the last time I saw you, aren't you?” sneered Lacy, warming to his theme. “You were wearing nothing but breeches then, if I remember correctly. Not the sort of sight for a "lady", eh? Kelling? And Rebecca... She was more chastely dressed, I admit, but I don't suppose that state of affairs existed for very long, did it? Not after I heard you asking her to share your bed. A pity I didn't get to see the finale; that would have been something! I only got to see the opening act. Still, it was enough.” He rubbed his bruised arm. “You wanted to conduct your little affair in secret, didn't you? You thought you could go out to The Nag's Head and have the "lady" in your room with no one being the wiser. But you were wrong. Because I was there, Kelling, and I saw the two of you together. And what's more, before this evening's over, everyone else will know it too.”
Rebecca felt her stomach churn. Lacy had seen them together at The Nag's Head, when she was arguing with Joshua over the room. The door, she remembered, had been open, because she had not wanted to close it, for to do so would have been to shut herself in with a stranger. It was the worst thing that could possibly have happened. Although the encounter had been innocent, no one would believe it. Indeed, Lacy himself did not believe it. Having seen her talking to Joshua whilst Joshua had been in a state of partial undress, and having heard Joshua invite her to share his bed, he had drawn his own conclusions. And now he meant to noise them abroad.
Her spirits sank still further as she realized that her reputation was ruined.
But she had reckoned without Joshua's strength of character.
“I don't think so.” His voice was like steel.
“Oh, don't you?” jeered Lacy. “Well, perhaps if your mistress had been more accommodating, and perhaps if you hadn't manhandled me, then I might have been persuaded to keep what I know to myself. But as it is...”
His voice tailed away. He had started his speech full of confidence, but at the word "mistress" the atmosphere had changed, and a deadly silence now filled the room.
Lacy glanced nervously at Joshua and backed away.
There was a moment of tense silence. “Then, tell me, Lacy,” said Joshua. “How are you with a pistol?” He spoke conversationally, but the air suddenly felt as tight as a drum, as though one wrong word or gesture would rupture it.
Lacy felt it. He fingered his collar nervously, as though he was finding it difficult to breath. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, that if you blacken Miss Fossington's name in any way, you will find yourself needing one,” said Joshua levelly.
Lacy gave a bark of laughter, but it was forced. “You wouldn't fight a duel over her,” he said with bravado. “She's not your wife. She's nothing but your strumpet. Besides, duels aren't for your kind.” He sneered again. “You're in trade, Kelling. You're not even a gentleman.”
“I count four,” said Joshua calmly.
Lacy looked at him suspiciously.
“Four reasons for calling you out,” Joshua elaborated. “One, your attack on Miss Fossington; two, your threat to spread gossip about the lady and myself; three, your slur on the lady's character; and four, your slur on my right to call myself a gentleman.”
Lacy licked his lips.
“You are the only person to know of the incident at The Nag's Head,” went on Joshua, his eyes hard. “If I discover that anyone else knows about it, I will know who has been spreading the rumour. And I, Lacy, am a very good shot.”
Lacy looked from one to the other of them, as if trying to decide whether it would be worth his while to resort to some kind of blackmail. But one look at Joshua's implacable features decided him. “Very well,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will keep quiet.”
“A wise choice,” said Joshua evenly. He strode over to the door and held it open.
Lacy, with a last furtive look, slipped out of the room.
With his departure, some of the tension that had filled the room began to dissipate. Rebecca let out sigh of relief. Without realizing it, she had been holding her breath.
Joshua, whose eyes had followed Lacy out of the room, turned to look at her.
As she felt his eyes on her, Rebecca felt suddenly awkward. He was taking in every detail of her: the flush on her cheeks; her rapid breathing; and the rise and fall of her breast.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his eyes returning to her own.
“No.” She remembered Lacy's attack on her, and was thankful that Joshua had arrived when he did — although she had given a good account of herself before he had entered the room. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, which was still tense, though now in a subtly different way, she gave a weak smile and said, “Though I believe I hurt him. I stamped on his foot when he tried to kiss me.”
He smiled, too. Then his eyes mellowed, and the hard line of his mouth softened. “I hope you would not stamp on my foot if—” he began; before cutting himself off.
There was a heart-stopping moment and everything was suddenly very still. Rebecca could hear the coals shifting in the hearth. As if some unseen force was compelling her to do so, she turned her eyes up to his. “If—?” she whispered. Her voice trembled, but the rest of her was rigid. It was as though she was waiting for something. But what?
“If...” said Josh, his voice suddenly husky.
He was looking incredibly desirable. Standing there before her in the candlelight, with the flames painting gold highlights into his dark blond hair and with copper sparks flashing from his eyes, he was the most devastatingly attractive man Rebecca had ever seen. But it was not just his mane of dark blond hair and his copper eyes that made him so attractive, it was the force of his character; a force which echoed her own. He crossed the space between them and took her hands between his, whilst all the time his eyes never left hers. He stroked his strong fingers over the backs of her hand then turned them over and stroked the palms.
He dropped one of her hands, and she felt torn, both relieved that he had let it go, and yet devastated that he had done so.
But he kept hold of her other hand. He kissed the back of it, then stripping off her long white evening glove he kissed it again, turning it over and kissing her palm before trailing kisses up her arm. She gave a long, shuddering sigh, and as if it released something inside him he abandoned convention entirely and pulled her roughly into his embrace.
His eyes bored down into her own. It was as though he was looking through them into her very soul. His mouth came closer and her lips began to part. She could feel the heat of his breath, clean and sweet, and her eyelids, heavy, started to close. She felt his arms drawing her closer, crushing her against him in a virile embrace; she could almost taste his lips, and then —
A loud crash from just outside the room penetrated the spellbinding aura that surrounded her. She became gradually aware that there was a world beyond the one encircled by Joshua's arms, and knew that she must rejoin it.
He knew it, too. He was pulling away from her, dropping his arms, letting her go ... .
She swayed for a moment, not yet able to stand without his support, then made a great effort and managed to steady herself. As she did so she began to remember where she was, and to realize what had just happened.
Oh, no! she thought, overcome with mortification. Despite all her resolutions to the contrary she had almost succumbed to Joshua's powerful attraction.
“I... I must go,” she said, wondering what had come over her. How could she have become so lost to all sense that she would allow Joshua to pull her into his arms? She picked up her glove and pulled it on with shaking fingers. “Hetty will be wondering where I am.”