“Being resentful is one thing,” he remarked. “Being violent is quite another. The Luddites are no respecters of persons. If they feel their livelihoods are threatened they are not above breaking into the homes of mill owners and holding them at gunpoint.”
“You are thinking of James Balderstone,” said Rebecca. The assault on James Balderstone had been in all the newspapers at the time. His house had been broken into by a mob, and he had been held at gunpoint by a number of Luddites whilst their fellows had smashed up one of his frames.
“Among others. And in some cases the situation has been even worse. In Stockport, a mob broke into one of the mills and destroyed the looms before turning their attention to the owner's house and setting it on fire.”
“Nevertheless, I intend to take an interest in my inheritance,” said Rebecca firmly. “Grandfather left me half the mill for a purpose and I don't want to let him down. Besides, he is right. I can't be content with sitting by the fire and knitting! I long for a challenge. I am too much like him to be content with idling my life away.”
To her surprise, she saw a look of respect and understanding cross Joshua's face. But then it disappeared, and she could tell that, no matter how much he might understand her feelings, he was not about to give in. He did not want a woman as a partner, and it would take more than a flash of respect to change his mind.
There was no time for anything further, however. The dance was drawing to its close. The last chords sounded and she turned to Joshua and dropped him a curtsey.
He made her a bow and then, offering her his arm, he escorted her to the side of the room. Hetty was waiting for them. The three of them enjoyed a little light conversation before Joshua made his excuses and left their side.
“My, you made a handsome couple,” said Hetty, unfolding her fan and wafting it in front of her face to create a cooling breeze. “It's such a pity that Joshua is too young to marry.” She gave a sigh. “He has too much drive and ambition to settle down. Perhaps, when he is older, and needs to set up his nursery... But never mind, there are plenty of eligible bachelors here tonight. Oh, look, here is Lord Henderton.” She caught sight of Rebecca's humorous expression and said ruefully, “I know you don't like me to play the part of the matchmaker, Rebecca, but I would so like to see you settled.”
“I promise you that if I ever fall in love I will be happy to marry,” she said. “But not until.”
“Well, I can ask for no more than that,” said Hetty. She turned towards the young nobleman. “Ah! Lord Henderton! How lovely to see you. I don't believe you know my niece.”
Lord Henderton professed himself eager to rectify that sad state of affairs, and before long Rebecca found him leading her out onto the floor. Lord Henderton turned out to be a good dancer and an agreeable companion, and she enjoyed the cotillion they danced together.
Hetty nobly refrained from asking her how she had found Lord Henderton when the dance came to an end, but Rebecca took pity on her, telling her that she had found him most agreeable.
“And there are a number of other young gentlemen here tonight who are equally agreeable,” said Hetty, eager to promote Rebecca's happiness. “You must let me introduce you to Mr Porter.” She wafted her fan in the direction of the gentleman in question. “He comes from a very good family, and his mother and I are old friends.”
Rebecca allowed Hetty to make the introduction, and then accepted Mr Porter's hand for the next dance. Like Lord Henderton, he was a pleasant and agreeable companion. But his closeness did not make her skin tingle...
After Mr Porter, Rebecca danced with a succession of pleasant and agreeable young men.
It was whilst she was dancing with Mr Yunge, however, that she became aware of another gentleman watching her with a puzzled expression. As soon as the dance ended he accosted her, saying, “Haven't we met somewhere before?”
Rebecca took in his bland, slack-featured face and shook her head. “I don't believe so.” Then, remembering that Joshua had been reminded of her grandfather on first meeting her, she said, “Perhaps you knew my grandfather, Jebadiah Marsden. There is a family resemblance, I believe.”
He shook his head. “No, I never knew Jebadiah Marsden.” He regarded her closely. It was somewhere recently that I saw you, I am certain. You have been in London for the winter?”
“No. I have only just arrived.”
“And you are sure we have never met?” he asked curiously.
“Positive.” Rebecca was firm.
He gave a sigh. “I could have sworn... oh, well I dare say it will come back to me.”
Rebecca murmured a polite nothing and returned to Hetty's side.
“I am glad you are getting to know some of the gentlemen here,” said Hetty, rather anxiously, “but if I can just give you a word of warning, Rebecca. The gentleman you were talking to just now — the slack-featured gentleman, George Lacy — he is not quite the thing.”
“Don't worry aunt,” teased Rebecca. “I promise not to form a tendre for him!”
To Rebecca's surprise, Hetty did not smile at her sally.
“That isn't what I mean,” said Hetty, shaking her head. “He has a malicious nature, and he delights in inflicting harm. He loves nothing better than to gossip — I declare he is worse than a woman in that way — and if he ever discovers something any decent person would keep quiet about, he noises it abroad. Oh! Not openly. That would be too dangerous for him. There are still gentlemen who are prepared to fight a duel if they feel their own of their wife's honour has been called into question. But nevertheless he finds a way of making it known.”
“Never fear,” said Rebecca. “He cannot hurt me. I have nothing to hide.”
“Even so, I would rather you kept away from him,” said Hetty worriedly.
“I shall do as you suggest,” said Rebecca. She had detected something underhand about Mr Lacy herself, and was happy to assure Hetty she had no intention of cultivating his acquaintance.
“Good.” Hetty was satisfied.
“Oh, look,” she said. “Here is Joshua. I believe he means to ask you for another dance.”
Rebecca felt her heart skip a beat. Dancing with Joshua had been difficult enough the first time. She did not trust herself to accept his hand for a second time. She must think of some excuse.
“May I have the honour of your hand for the next dance?” asked Joshua as he joined them at the side of the ballroom.
“I must beg to be excused,” Rebecca said. “I am feeling rather hot.”
“Indeed.” His eyes fixed on hers and held them for a long moment.
If she had not been hot before, she certainly was now!
As if convinced that she was indeed feeling heated by the delicate flush that sprang to her cheek, Joshua released her from his gaze, saying, “Then you must let me fetch you an ice.”
Rebecca accepted his offer and he strode off, to return a few minutes later with a refreshing confection.
By this time Hetty was deep in conversation with one of the other matrons, leaving Rebecca feeling vulnerable. As she took the ice she decided it was best to retreat once more into general conversation. She was just about to launch into a discussion of the war against France, asking Joshua whether he felt that Napoleon was indeed close to ultimate defeat, as the newspapers suggested, when she became aware of George Lacy's eyes on them.
“What is it?” asked Joshua, seeing her frown.
“That gentleman,” said Rebecca, her hand poised halfway to her mouth. “George Lacy. He is watching me.”
“That's hardly surprising,” said Joshua. His eyes warmed as they roved over her face, taking in her bright eyes and her naturally red lips, before dropping to her delicious curves, which were encased in her satin gown.