“Not at all,” said Rebecca.
Louisa gave a sigh of relief. “I do so like the frills — they are so pretty — but I was worried they might not be quite the thing. But you have set my mind at rest.”
“I'm sure Edward will find them delightful.”
“Oh, my dear, I am so happy!” said Louisa. “I only hope I may soon see you as happy as I am.”
Rebecca flushed. Far from being happy, she was in an agony of suspense. Was it possible that her own love would have such a happy outcome? she wondered. Or had she read too much into Joshua's look, and made too much of his enigmatic words?
She did not know. And until she did, she could not be easy.
Her attention was fortunately soon taken up with receiving the guests for the card party, who slowly began to arrive. There was no Mr Willingham, despite the fact that he had been invited — by now, Rebecca hoped, he would be safely handed over to the local magistrate.
There was also no Joshua. As the time ticked by, Rebecca was seized by a feeling of uncertainty. Surely he meant to come?
But of course he meant to come, she reassured herself. He must simply have been delayed — by business, perhaps, or by affairs connected with Mr Willingham's arrest. She must give her attention to her other guests until he arrived.
Having seen everyone settled round their card tables, amply supplied with refreshments, she slipped out of the room, meaning to give an order for more wine to be brought up: the party had got under way very quickly, and she did not want the supply to run low. But she was stopped short by the sight of Miss Serena Quentin talking to Miss Lavinia Madely, for Miss Quentin was proudly displaying a ring.
Surely she had seen that ring before? thought Rebecca with a lurch beneath her breast. The gold flashed in the glow of the candles, and the letter "J" caught the light. Rebecca closed her eyes, before opening them again and steeling her nerve. For it was Joshua's ring that Miss Quentin was wearing.
At that moment, Miss Quentin turned round, and with an arch smile, said, “Miss Fossington! What a surprise you gave me! I did not see you there. But it is a good thing you are here, for you may be one of the first to congratulate me! I am not meant to say anything at present, but I cannot resist. Mr Kelling and I are to be married!”
Rebecca felt as though she had been stabbed with a knife. “Married?” she asked. Her voice came out as a whisper.
“Yes,” crowed Serena. “Is it not splendid news? I am so happy I could cry!”
“It doesn't look much like a betrothal ring,” put in Miss Lavinia Madely spitefully. Her mouth was pursed and she looked severely displeased.
“Of course not,” said Miss Quentin, her air of triumph unshaken. “That will come later. Diamonds, I think, or possibly emeralds, to match my "heavenly green eyes" — for that is what Mr Kelling calls them,” she said, not even flinching at the bare-faced lie. “But he wanted to give me something to be going on with, and what better than his beloved signet ring? I do declare, it seems like only yesterday he was forbidding me to take it from his finger, and saying that only his future wife would be permitted to do such a thing. And now I am his future wife, and I am wearing his ring!” She looked at Rebecca archly. “Well, Miss Fossington? Are you not going to congratulate me?”
“Of ... of course,” said Rebecca. She had to acknowledge the meaning of the ring, but her mind cried out against it. Joshua? Betrothed to Miss Quentin? It couldn't be.
And yet, why not? Miss Quentin was extremely handsome. Joshua had often been in her company. They were both ruthless. Why should he not have offered her his hand?
Because she had thought...
But she had been mistaken, she told herself harshly.
She had hoped he was in love with her — hoped he had been about to offer her his hand — but the hope had proved false.
There was a rushing sound in her ears, and she felt tears stinging the back of her eyes. “If you will excuse me,” she said, “I need to instruct the butler.”
And drawing herself up to her full height she continued on her way with her head held high.
Once out of sight of the two young ladies, however, her shoulders slumped as she took in the full enormity of the situation. Joshua was betrothed to Miss Quentin. She would not have believed it possible. And yet Miss Quentin had been wearing his ring.
Her head was throbbing; her heart aching; and she wanted nothing more than to retire to her room, to lay down on her bed, and to shut out the nightmare. But it could not be. She could not retire. She and Louisa had a house full of guests, and she must see to their needs, entertain them with light-hearted conversation, and appear to be cheerful and perfectly at ease.
Her heart shrivelled at the thought of it, but it could not be helped. Louisa had been looking forward to the card party since it had first been decided upon, and Rebecca did not want to spoil the evening for her, particularly as Louisa was so radiant. No. She must put on a bright smile and behave as though nothing was wrong.
The one comfort was that Joshua had not attended the party, and Rebecca fervently hoped that he would not now arrive. To congratulate him on his betrothal would be more than she could bear. If fortune favoured her his business would keep him away from the party, and it would not be long then before she returned to Cheshire. Once there she would have no call to see him — she could simply declare that she had seen all she needed to at the mill and that she had decided to conduct her future business with Joshua by post. And then she would be able to recover in the safety and seclusion of her country house.
Or at least, she would be able to try. For she could not conceal from herself that it would be impossible to recover from such a blow. On the outside, perhaps. But on the inside? Never.
She shook her head in an effort to drive away such hopeless thoughts. Allowing herself a few minutes in an ante-room to collect herself, she went on to instruct the butler before returning to the sitting-room, where the card tables were in full swing.
“Ah! There you are,” beamed Louisa. Then her smile faded and she said in concern, “My dear. What is it? Are you ill? You don't look quite the thing.”
“It's nothing,” said Rebecca. She tried to speak reassuringly, but her voice came out shakily.
“It is the excitement,” said Louisa in concern. “All these parties are delightful, but they are tiring nonetheless.”
Rebecca did not correct Louisa. That worthy lady would discover the reason for her unhappiness soon enough, but until that time she did not want to cause Louisa distress. Nor, she was forced to admit, did she want to cause herself distress. For if Louisa knew that Joshua was betrothed to Miss Quentin, she would undoubtedly offer sympathy, and that was something Rebecca could not bear.
“The one disappointment is that Joshua is not here,” went on Louisa. “Still, I expect — oh, but I was wrong. Here is Joshua now.”
Rebecca felt her heart give a lurch and felt a flush spreading over her cheeks. She turned away in confusion, knowing she was not equal to seeing him, to greeting him. So, making an excuse she crossed the card room with as much unconcern as she could muster and went out of the door at the far end.
Her escape, however, was short lived, for no sooner had she closed the door behind her than it opened again, and Joshua came through.
Why did he have to look so devastatingly attractive? thought Rebecca in an agony of feeling. And why did he have to look at her in that intimate way, with his eyes dancing and his mouth curving into a tantalizing smile? Why could he not have looked at her remotely? Why could he not have been austere? But that had never been Joshua's way. And it was not his way now, not even when he was betrothed to Miss Quentin.