“It will be my pleasure,” said Joshua with a purposeful look in his eye.
Before long, Rebecca had fastened on a pair of skates and was heading out to the centre of the ice on Josh's arm. He skated well, with long, powerful strokes. Once in a clear space he drew her towards him in one smooth gesture and put his arm around her waist. Then, taking her hand he set about guiding her across the ice.
The ice was as smooth and as slippery as glass. The sweeping boys had done their jobs well, plying their birch brooms to keep it free of slush and debris, and brushing it clean of the churned- up ice the skates left in their wakes.
Joshua glanced towards Hetty and Charles. He and Rebecca were still in sight of them, but they were now so far away that their conversation could not be overheard.
“Rebecca,” he said, breaking the silence that lay between them, “we have to talk.”
“Of course we do,” said Rebecca hastily. She did not know what he was going to say, but some instinct warned her not to let him say it, so pretending she thought he'd meant, “We can't skate round in silence,” she said conversationally, “Tell me Joshua, when will you be going to Manchester? Now that you have inherited half the mill, I am sure you will want to be attending to business.”
“Trying to get rid of me, Becky?” he asked, an amused twinkle in his eye.
“No, of course not,” she said uncomfortably.
“That's good,” he said. But then he became serious. “Rebecca, I was wrong to let you go last night. I shouldn't have let you return to the ballroom after our meeting in the morning-room until things had been settled between us.”
Rebecca felt her pulse begin to quicken. Until things had been settled between them? What did he mean?
Joshua was continuing. “I should have realized when it happened that we might have been seen together at The Nag's Head, and as soon as I met you again I should have taken the necessary steps to protect your reputation and keep you free of the interference of people like George Lacy. However, what's done is done. What matters now is not the past but the present. We must salvage the situation, and marry without delay.”
“We must. . . ?” gasped Rebecca. She had not known where Joshua's conversation was leading, but she had never expected this. In her astonishment she dug her toes instinctively into the ice and came to a swift halt, leaving Joshua to come to a sharp stop beside her.
“Marry,” said Joshua, turning to face her, his eyes boring into her own. “Without delay.”
“Have you run mad?” asked Rebecca. “We scarcely know each other, and yet —”
“I can assure you I have never been more sane.”
He spoke sharply, and she was surprised at the harshness of his tone. A moment's reflection, however, told her that he had expected her to fall in with his plans — although knowing her stubborn nature he should have been prepared for her to have her own opinion on the matter — and she realized that her reaction had shocked him.
“I have no more wish to be leg-shackled than you,” he went on, “but as I have compromised you we must marry as soon as the banns have been read.”
“You have run mad,” said Rebecca determinedly.
“You think we should have some pretence of a courtship?” he asked.
She gasped. How could he have so misunderstood her refusal to fall in with his plans, thinking she objected only to the speed at which they were to be carried out?
“Yes, you are right,” he said thoughtfully. “If we marry too quickly tongues will be sure to wag, and it's no use our marrying in order to scotch one kind of rumour if all we do is succeed in creating another. We will take our time, then, and have a three-month engagement period. That should be long enough to silence the gossips, and convince them you are not...”
“With child?” she demanded.
He gave a wicked smile. “I was going to say, enceinte,” he remarked.
“Which is simply society's word for the same condition,” she returned. “However, you misunderstand me entirely if you think I object to the length of the engagement. I object to the whole idea. I have no intention of marrying you, either with or without a pretence of courtship. I have seen you but three times before today, and yet you propose that I should spend the rest of my life with you. I would not —”
“Would not what?” he demanded, his eyes beginning to spark. “Save your reputation?”
“My reputation?” she demanded. “What, pray, makes you think it needs saving? No one saw us together that night save for George Lacy, and he will not say anything. I will certainly not tell anyone. Will you?” she challenged him.
“No, of course not,” he said angrily. “But the fact remains —”
“The fact remains that you must have taken leave of your senses. Marry you, indeed!”
“It seems a bad bargain to you?” he demanded, catching hold of her wrist.
Looking at him then, with his dark blond hair and burning eyes, his firm chin and square-cut jaw, his broad shoulders and muscular physique, she had the insane feeling that it might not be such a bad bargain after all.
But what was she thinking? Of course it would be a bad bargain. The whole idea was ridiculous! She barely knew him. And from her grandfather's tales about his exploits, she was sure he was not the husband for her, and it was something her own experiences had confirmed. Despite his powerful magnetism, he clearly did not see her as an equal, and she had no intention of marrying a man who saw her as his inferior.
“I see no point in continuing with this conversation,” she said, fighting down her anger and replying with as much coldness as she could muster. Then, turning away from him, she began to skate back towards Hetty and Charles. But he caught up with her with a powerful thrust of his firmly-muscled legs and took hold of her round the waist.
To the crowds who skated past them they looked to be skating along in perfect amity, but Rebecca was seething inside.
“Let go of me,” she said.
“No.”
“I demand —”
“We will return to Hetty and Charles together, as we left them,” he said between gritted teeth. “And we will inform them of our betrothal.”
“You cannot make me marry you,” she said, her voice just as determined as his. She dug in her toes, this time deliberately, until she had come to a stop. She had no intention of returning to Hetty and Charles until this ridiculous nonsense had been brought to an end. “If you choose to be so foolish as to tell Hetty and Charles that we are betrothed then I will be forced to tell them that we are not.”
Whereupon she skated off. And this time, though his face was thunderous, he let her go.
“Where is Josh?” asked Hetty, as Rebecca skated up to her.
“I... wanted to practise a little skating unaided,” said Rebecca. She did not like lying to Hetty, but she did not feel equal to explaining the true situation. “He is following me. Ah, here he is now.”
Joshua skated up.
“Well, this has been a most enjoyable afternoon,” said Charles, as the four of them returned their skates to the stall. “I think, though, if you're ready, it's time for us to leave.” He looked up at the sky. “The light was already fading. The short winter day was closing in, and before long it would be dark. You'll come back with us to Sloane Street, I hope, Josh? There are some business matters on which I would value your advice.”
Rebecca looked down at the ice, willing him to refuse. But then she heard him say, “I'd be delighted.”
Somehow, although she may have won the battle, Rebecca had the feeling she had not won the war. She may have refused him once, but she feared he would not allow the matter to rest. He had a stubborn streak, as she had already discovered. Well, if it came to that, so did she.
They left the frozen Thames and Charles tried to hail a hansom to take them back to Sloane Street: their own carriage had long since returned home, as it was too cold to keep the horses waiting. But there were few hansoms out and about that day. The weather made the going treacherous, and not all the cab drivers wanted to risk their horses in such conditions. The hansoms which were driving round the streets were therefore in demand, and in the end the party experienced such difficulty in trying to hail a cab they decided to walk back to Sloane Street. Their only proviso was that they would hail a cab if they saw one on the way.