Rebecca blushed. “You must not say such things to me.”
She had not meant to say it. She had meant to smile politely, as she would have smiled politely at the pleasantries of any other gentleman. But she had not been equal to it.
He looked down at her more intently, and the mocking smile left his lips. “Why not, when they are true?” he asked.
Rebecca could think of no answer to this. Even so, she wished he would not say such things, or look at her in such a disturbing way. She was becoming prey to certain unsettling images, images of him sweeping her into his arms and kissing her on the lips, and she knew she must drive them away.
“Tell me,” she said, striving to turn the conversation into less disturbing channels, and falling back on her earlier idea of discussing Napoleon. “What do you think of Napoleon's chances, now that so many countries have entered a coalition against him?”
“Determined to talk of commonplaces?” he asked with a quizzical look.
She could think of no suitable reply, and covered her silence by taking a spoonful of ice.
Then his quizzical look vanished, and Rebecca realized he had seen the wisdom of this himself.
“Very well,” he said. “I think that Napoleon was a fool to invade Russia last year. I think his defeat at the Battle of the Nations in October spelt his doom, and I think the Coalition will eventually beat him. He's a great general, but not even he can stand out against Russia, Prussia, Sweden, Austria and Bavaria when they are all united against him.” He gave a wry smile, then said unexpectedly, “I also think his defeat will be very bad for business.”
Rebecca was startled. “Bad for business?”
Joshua nodded. “Supplying the army with the material for their uniforms has been very lucrative for the mills.”
Rebecca laughed. “Do you ever stop thinking of business?” she asked.
“Not often.”
She smiled. “I suppose I should be pleased. It is a good trait to have in a partner.”
She finished her ice.
“You are still determined not to sell me your share of the mill?” he asked.
“I am.”
“Think it over carefully, Rebecca. Remember, the problems with the Luddites could flare up again at any time. I don't want you putting yourself in danger.”
There was a spark of something unfathomable in his eyes as he said it, and for a moment she had the wild idea that he was concerned about her.
But of course he was concerned, she reminded herself a moment later. He was concerned because she was Jebadiah's grand-daughter. And Joshua had been very fond of Jebadiah.
“I don't intend to put myself in danger,” she reassured him, putting her empty dish on a silver tray as a footman walked by. “But I intend to take an interest in my inheritance. You must reconcile yourself to my visiting the mill in order to acquaint myself with it.”
Joshua gave a wry smile. “Your grandfather often spoke about you, but he neglected to tell me about your stubborn streak. It is almost as strong as my own.”
At that moment Lady Cranston approached them and introduced a nervous young lady fresh from the schoolroom. Joshua, doing his duty, fell in with Lady Cranston's unspoken wishes and politely asked the young lady to dance.
Hetty was still busy chattering to one of her friends, and seeing that she was occupied Rebecca felt free to slip out of the room. Despite her ice she was still feeling overheated and wanted to retreat to somewhere cooler and quieter for a few minutes.
It was certainly cooler in the corridor than the ballroom, but with all the candles in the magnificent chandeliers, it was still hot.
She opened one of the doors that led off from the corridor, and found herself in a small anteroom, which on closer inspection turned out to be a pretty little morning-room. A fire was lit but it was banked down. The coals showed blackly against the white marble fireplace, and the atmosphere was pleasantly cool.
Rebecca closed the door behind her. She was pleased to have found somewhere to rest, and she was relieved to be alone.
She had found being with Joshua unsettling. He was like no other man she had ever met. He was ruthless and hard in many ways, and yet there was an unmistakeable warmth underneath.
Was it the contrast between his hard surface and his inner warmth that attracted her? she wondered. For she could no longer hide from herself the fact that she was attracted to him. Whenever he was near her she found her thoughts wandering down new and unsettling paths, and try as she might she could not stop them.
She sighed, and wandered over to the window. She would give herself a few minutes in the morning-room to cool down and then return to the ballroom. Looking round she tried to find something to distract her thoughts. Ah! A collection of miniatures. They hung next to the window, on the gold-painted wall. She moved closer to study them. They were exquisitely executed, and she was just marvelling over the detail in them when the door opened. She turned round... and saw George Lacy enter the room.
“Mr Lacy!” she exclaimed. She was not pleased to see him. Of all the guests at the ball, he was the one she least wanted to see. Especially now, when she had been hoping for a few minutes peace.
“Miss Fossington,” he replied.
He did not seem surprised to see her and his attitude, as though he had expected to find her there, made her feel on edge. She examined him warily. Of middle height, he appeared to be about forty years of age. He was well dressed, his striped yellow waistcoat contrasting with his blue tailcoat and his white linen, but even so, there was a sharp look in his eye.
“I was just about to return to the ballroom,” she said. Her aunt's warnings were clear in her mind, and she was determined to leave the room at once. But as she passed him on the way to the door he suddenly lunged at her. His arms wrapped themselves round her like steel wires and she smelt the rancidness of his breath as he tried to fasten his mouth on hers. His action was as shocking as it was unexpected, and in horror Rebecca pushed him away.
“Come now, no need to play the innocent,” he said insinuatingly. He approached her again. “Just a little kiss, that's all I ask.”
To her annoyance, Rebecca found that she was shaking. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” she demanded, rapidly regaining control of herself. She drew herself up and said, with as much authority as she could muster, “Let me pass.”
“Quite the little actress, aren't we?” he sneered. “But I know what you really are. That virtuous pose won't wash with me.”
He lunged at her again, and this time he managed to clamp his lips to her own. She shut her mouth firmly and stamped down hard on his foot.
He let out a cry of rage. It had the fortunate effect of making his mouth leave hers, but then he lunged for her again. She backed away. She fumbled behind her in an effort to grasp one of the candlesticks that stood on the mantelpiece. It would make an effective weapon. But just as her fingers closed around it the door opened and Joshua was revealed in the doorway.
It took Joshua only a second to take in what was happening and then he was across the room and lifting Lacy bodily away from Rebecca, before turning and depositing him none too gently on the ground again. Joshua's bulk was now between Lacy and Rebecca, protecting her from any further attack.
“You're a damned cur, Lacy,” he snarled. “I suggest you apologize to the lady at once.”
He stepped aside so that Lacy could do so, watching him all the time to make sure that he did not try to attack Rebecca again. But instead of complying, Lacy only flicked the lace at his wrists and straightened his cravat. Then he jeered, “Lady? Oh, no, Kelling, I don't think so.”
He looked from Joshua to Rebecca and back again. He was beginning to regain his confidence now that Joshua had let him go, and he continued more boldly. “I knew I'd seen her somewhere before but I couldn't think where. And then it came back to me. When I saw her dancing with you, I realized I'd seen the two of you together, and then I remembered where it was. It was at The Nag's Head.”