And yet all these feelings, whilst explaining some of what she felt for him, did not explain it all, for she felt something she had never felt for any man before: that she wanted to join herself to him - in every way.
She felt a warm tingling sensation spread through her as the realization hit her with full force.
How strange. She had never thought, when she had first met him at The Queen’s Head, that she would fall in love with him, but despite the fact he was stubborn and determined – or perhaps because of it - she had done so.
And yet, did Joshua love her? Or was he still resolute in his determination never to offer her his hand again?
‘Rebecca,’ he said, stroking his fingers over her palms in the most delicious way, ‘I asked you once before,’ he said, his eyes glowing in the mixed fire-and-candlelight —
A low groan interrupted him.
He cursed under his breath.
Dropping her hand he turned in the direction of the noise.
Rebecca, too, turned her head, and saw that Mr Willingham was starting to stir. He had been knocked out when she had crashed the jug down on his head but that was all. And now he was coming round.
Rising from his knees, Joshua crossed the room to Mr Willingham. Untying his cravat he quickly bound Willingham’s hands and feet, roping them together with the voluminous material so that Mr Willingham was held fast.
‘Odgers is in the ballroom,’ he said to Rebecca.
‘Odgers?’ she asked in surprise.
Joshua gave a wide smile. ‘He is dressed in some of my old clothes, and though he’s undoubtedly an ugly customer he is just about able to pass for a guest!’
Rebecca felt her own mouth twitch. The sight of Odgers as a guest at the ball must be a sight indeed.
‘Bring him here, whilst I keep an eye on Willingham,’ said Joshua. ‘He can help me take him out to the carriage.’
‘It will cause a stir,’ said Rebecca with a frown. ‘Can you not think of another way of getting him out of the house, without embarrassing Mrs Renwick in her own home?’
‘There won’t be any embarrassment,’ Joshua reassured her. ‘Once Odgers joins me I’ll unbind Willingham and together we can help him out to the carriage - he’s still groggy and is not likely to offer any resistance. If anyone sees us they will simply assume we are helping our friend, who has taken too much to drink.’
Rebecca nodded. He was right. Young men being carried out to their carriages befuddled with wine was such a normal sight that no one would worry about it. ‘I’ll fetch Odgers at once.’
She slipped out of the room and into the ballroom. There was no sign of Odgers. But a glance into the supper room showed him helping himself to a large plate of oyster patties and a couple of veal and ham pies.
Going unobtrusively over to his side, Rebecca said, ‘You are wanted in the library.’
Without turning a hair Odgers put down his plate and made a discreet exit.
Rebecca was just about to follow him when she was joined by Louisa.
‘There you are, my dear. I thought I had lost you! It is such a crush I thought I would never find you again. And I did so want to see you. I have some wonderful news!’
Rebecca’s sprits sank. Fond as she was of her cousin she did not want to be distracted, particularly not now. But she had no choice. She could not ignore Louisa, and so instead she made an effort to concentrate on what her cousin was saying.
‘Would you believe it?’ said Louisa, hands clasped and eyes shining. ‘Edward has just asked me to marry him.’
‘Oh, Louisa, that’s wonderful!’ said Rebecca. She was genuinely happy for her cousin, and her enthusiasm was real.
‘I can hardly believe it,’ said Louisa. ‘It has all been so sudden. But it is wonderful nonetheless.’
‘Have you told Emily yet?’
‘No. I am leaving it to Edward to break the news - although he says she already suspects. Oh! It has all been so exciting! But do you know, my dear, I feel ever so tired, and I believe I have a headache coming on. Would you mind if I called for the carriage? I think I am in need of a long lie down.’
Rebecca’s spirits sank. She wanted to find out whether Willingham had been put safely in a carriage, and even more than that she wanted to know what Joshua had been about to say to her when Willingham had groaned.
I asked you once . . . he had begun, but what had he been about to say?
She hardly dared hope he had been about to renew his proposal. Surely a man as ruthless as Joshua would not, after declaring he would never offer her his hand again, change his mind? But even so, she could not help hoping . . .
There was nothing for it, however. If Louisa was feeling ill, they must leave.
Besides, she comforted herself, Joshua would be attending their card party on the following evening. It would not be long before she saw him again.
But despite her reasonable comforting, she found that the following evening seemed a lifetime away.
Nevertheless, it could not be helped.
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ she said, with more tact than truthfulness. ‘We will call for the carriage to be brought round right away.’
Together she and Louisa went out into the hall.
She had thought they might see Joshua half-carrying, half-supporting Mr Willingham out to the carriage, but there was no sign of him in the hall. Either he and Odgers had already gone, or they had not yet had a chance to leave the library. Well, whichever it was, they would soon be on their way, putting Willingham where he could do no more harm.
The Marsden carriage was brought round, and before long she and Louisa were in the carriage as it rattled through the streets, back to their rented Manchester home.
I asked you once . . . she thought, looking out of the window at the darkened streets as she recalled Joshua’s words.
Yes. He had asked her once.
The question was, would he ask her again?
Serena Quentin’s handsome face was marred by a scowl. Despite her best endeavours she had been unable to force Mr Kelling into a compromising position. He had managed to avoid every trap she had laid for him during the course of the evening, and what was worse, he had done it with a mocking smile on his lips - as though he saw through all her subterfuges and meant to thwart her, she thought angrily.
What right did he have to resist her charms? And, more importantly, what right did he have to turn her into a laughing stock? For if she did not manage to bring him to heel she would be just that: a laughing stock. Lavinia Madely would see to that.
Catching sight of Lavinia at that moment, her anger was fuelled by the scorn in Lavinia’s eye. Throwing back her shoulders she decided bold action was necessary and, walking defiantly out of the room, she went in search of Joshua.
She did not have far to go. No sooner had she reached the hall than she heard a door opening and, to her surprise, she saw Joshua emerging from the library. But it was not that which surprised her, it was the fact that, instead of walking out of the room in a natural fashion, he was half-supporting, half-carrying someone else.
Mr Willingham! she thought with a sudden shock.
Mr Willingham, who scarcely ever drank, and certainly never drank enough to render him incapable.
Her curiosity rose.
What was the meaning of it? And who was the second gentleman - if such a rough looking creature could be given that description - supporting Mr Willingham at the other side?
She shrank back as Joshua half-supported, half-carried Mr Willingham through the hall and out of the house.
And then fate played into her hands, for Mr Willingham suddenly rallied and made an effort to break away from his captors. As he did so he slipped on the highly-polished floor. He clutched at Joshua, trying to regain his footing, but it was no use. He was seized again and carried bodily out of the front door. At the same moment there was a slight clinking sound, and a flash of gold caught Serena’s eye. Something had fallen from Joshua’s hand.
&nb
sp; His gold signet ring! Mr Willingham must have dislodged the precious item during his struggle. A plan already forming in her mind, she picked it up and examined it. It was the ring his godfather had given him. She remembered him telling her all about it when, on seeing the initial engraved on it, she had teasingly enquired who the lady might be. He had told her there was no lady in the case, and when she had playfully tried to take it from his finger he had resisted, saying the only lady he would ever permit to try on that ring was his future wife.
His future wife. He had said those very words. And what’s more, Lavinia Madely had heard him.
A triumphant smile crossed her face. What did it matter if she had not been able to force Joshua into a compromising situation? She had been able to do something far better: avail herself of his signet ring.
She slipped it onto her long white finger. It was rather large, but never mind. It could be made to serve her purpose, and that was all she cared about.
Exultantly she swept back into the ballroom - only to discover, after much fruitless searching, that Miss Lavinia Madely had already left.
But no matter. Lavinia was due to attend Rebecca Foster’s card party the following evening.
Serena, in triumphant mood, was prepared to wait.
Chapter Eleven
The following afternoon, Rebecca was sitting in the drawing-room, making plans for the mill. But it was no use. They could not hold her attention, and she put them aside before pacing restlessly across the room. Arriving at the fireplace she straightened the porcelain figurines on the mantelpiece before crossing the room again to straighten the cushions on the sofa. She moved restlessly from the sofa to the piano, where she straightened the music on the stand. And all the time her thoughts were filled with the events of the night before.
She remembered it all so clearly. Mr Willingham’s treachery, her own prompt actions, Joshua’s mastery of the situation, and then the aftermath: Joshua’s tender looks, the way he had taken her hands, his impassioned words. Could it be possible? Could his feelings towards her have changed? Could he love her as much as she loved him? She hardly dared to hope it. And yet why else would he have stroked her hands so tenderly? Why else spoken those impassioned words?
Oh, why had Louisa had to have a headache the night before? she asked herself. Chiding herself a moment later for the unkind thought. If it was as she suspected, then Joshua would speak to her that evening at the card party. And if not . . . No, she would not even think such a thing.
She went over to the mantelpiece and straightened the ormolu clock.
Fortunately - for there was nothing left to straighten! - Louisa bustled into the room at that moment, saying, ‘Oh, my dear, can you lend me your assistance? The servants are carrying the card tables into the sitting-room, but I cannot decide on the best arrangement.’
Rebecca was only too glad to offer her help, and before long the tables had been successfully organized. Then there was the greenery to be arranged - the two ladies would have liked to provide flowers, but the season unfortunately provided very little in this way - and the catering arrangements to be checked. There were the footmen to instruct, the wine to be seen to and the packs of cards to be placed on each table, so that all in all Rebecca was kept very busy.
By five o’clock everything was ready, and Rebecca and Louisa sat down to a light tea - a cup of the refreshing beverage, taken with a little seed cake - before retiring to their rooms to dress.
Joshua’s fingers fumbled as he made a second attempt at tying his cravat.
I should be looking forward to this evening, he told himself. I’m about to offer Becky my hand and to make her my betrothed.
If she will have me.
That was the thought that plagued him as he made a mess of yet another cravat. He gave it up in disgust and, wrenching it from his neck, threw it to the floor, where it landed on top of his first discarded effort.
He took up another freshly starched piece of linen and tried again.
It did not matter how many times he told himself that of course she would have him. That she loved him, as he loved her.
And when had he realized that? he asked himself. He did not know. It had crept up on him gradually, but it had begun the first time he had set eyes on her in the inn.
He gave a wry smile as he remembered how she had stood up to him. Oh, yes, she had impressed him even then. She had made him take notice of her, and not just as an intriguing face and a voluptuous set of curves, but as a person. Their following encounters had done nothing to diminish this fact, but had rather accentuated it. Over and over again she had refused to fall in with his wishes, and yet every time she had been right. How he had admired her for her courage in standing up to him. And he had admired her in a different way for taking an interest in the world around her, and for becoming involved in the mill. It may not have been convenient for him - nothing about Rebecca was ever convenient! - but she had taught him that men and women could be partners, something he had never realized before.
In her he had found his equal.
But when had these feelings turned to love? He did not know. That had been more subtle. But love it had become. He wanted her, needed her, in every way. He wanted to see her there beside him when he woke up in the morning; to take breakfast with her; to be tormented by her, delighted by her, and enraptured by her for the rest of his life. And all this would be his . . . if only she said yes.
Memories of her previous refusals returned to haunt him, but he resolutely put all such thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on his cravat.
Curse Brummell for making the wretched things fashionable! he thought unreasonably as his fingers, made clumsy with anticipation of the evening to come, refused to tie the required knot and a third cravat followed the first two onto the floor.
He almost gave into a temptation to ring the bell for his valet, but he fought it. He did not like being dressed by someone else, and although he kept a valet, the man was there to keep his clothes clean and boots polished, and nothing more. He took a deep breath, then began again. Abandoning all attempts to tie anything complicated, he settled for a simple barrel knot. Finally his fingers did what he wanted them to do, and the cravat was successfully tied.
Having succeeded with the most difficult part of his dress, he put on his waistcoat and shrugged on his tailcoat before inspecting himself in the cheval glass. He frowned. The one thing missing was his signet ring.
He could not think how he had come to lose it. No matter. He had set Odgers to looking for it. He had more important things to think of tonight.
Running his hands through his wild mane of hair, he picked up his greatcoat and went out to the waiting carriage.
‘Oh, my dear, you do look nice,’ said Louisa appreciatively as the two ladies waited for their guests to arrive. Rebecca was dressed in an exquisitely simple high-waisted gown. Its skirt was of white satin and its bodice was of dark red. Dark red sleeves, decorated with a white ribbon, set it off to perfection. As a finishing touch, a dark red ribbon was threaded through Rebecca’s ebony hair.
‘Thanks to Susan’s ministrations and Madame Dubois’s hard work,’ replied Rebecca with a smile. ‘And you are looking radiant.’
‘Do you think so?’ asked Louisa, eyes shining. Her dress, an amber satin, had a double row of flounces round the hem, matched by a frill round the discreet neckline. ‘You don’t think it too fussy?’
‘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, an
d 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 proved successful 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 Foster! 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.
‘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!’
One Snowy Night Page 18
