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Authors: Amanda Grange

BOOK: One Snowy Night
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‘What will it
take to make you see sense?’ he demanded, his eyes burning now instead of
boiling. ‘If anyone else finds out we were alone together in my bedroom at
The
Queen’s Head
—’

‘But they will
not,’ she returned. ‘And even if they do, I will still not marry you. I could
never marry for those reasons.’ Her eyes blazed. ‘The idea is unthinkable.’

‘Think
carefully, Rebecca. This is the last time I will offer you the protection of my
name. If you do not accept my hand this time, I will not offer it to you again.’

‘Good. Then it
will spare me the trouble of refusing it,’ she returned. ‘Nothing on earth
would induce me to accept the hand of a man I do not love.’

‘And that is
your final word on the matter?’ he demanded.

‘It is.’

‘Then there is
no more to be said.’

They stood
glaring at each other, like two combatants in a duel instead of two guests at a
dinner party.

And then came
the sound of footsteps approaching the door on the other side.

They glared at
each other for one moment more before sanity reasserted itself and they turned
away from each other, both of them trying to regain their composure before
Hetty or Charles should enter the room.

Rebecca turned
to the pianoforte, where once again she busied herself with the sheets of
music. Joshua, striding across to the other side of the room, picked up a
decanter and poured himself a drink. So that by the time Hetty entered the room
they seemed to be engaging in commonplace activities.

‘Such a fuss!’
said Hetty, completely oblivious of the hostile encounter that had just taken
place in that very room. ‘The silly girl was convinced that the French had
invaded until I took her to the window and showed her that the streets are
empty of soldiers. Ah, well, she has calmed down now.’ She looked round, as if
noticing for the first time that Charles was missing. ‘Where is Charles? Don’t
tell me he’s still sitting over his port?’

‘Charles has
gone on a tour of the house, checking that all the doors and windows are
bolted,’ explained Joshua.

‘Oh, what a
good idea!’ said Hetty. ‘We don’t want any more disturbances tonight. The
sooner the war is over the better things will be for all concerned. It is no
wonder there is so much unrest, when so many of the people in the country today
cannot remember a time when we were not at war with France.’

Rebecca
privately though that Hetty was being unduly optimistic in thinking that the
end of the war would mean an end of all other disturbances, but she did not say
so.

She was glad
when, a few minutes later, Charles entered the room and a normal atmosphere was
restored. Fortunately, Charles was in a talkative mood, and she did not have to
contribute much to the discussion. After her heated conversation with Joshua
she felt it would have been beyond her.

 

Blast the woman!
thought Joshua angrily
as, back in his own home, he undressed for bed.

Why did she
have to be so stubborn? Why couldn’t she have accepted his hand? Why couldn’t
she have let him offer her the protection of his name? Why couldn’t she have
allowed him to guard her against the wagging tongues of the gossips? Why couldn’t
she have seen the sense in what he was suggesting?

It was all
very well for her to say that Lacy wouldn’t talk. That, he believed, was true.
But if Lacy had seen them together, then other people could have seen them,
too. And the only way to take the wind out of the gossips’ sails was for them
to wed.

If you
think I am going to marry for the ridiculous reasons you propose
. . . she had said to
him.

Ridiculous? To
marry for the sake of her reputation?

It was a
down-to-earth reason to wed.

And yet even
as a part of him railed at her for refusing him, a part of him admired her. She
had not been prepared to compromise her principles, not even for the sake of
her reputation.

What strength
she had! What determination!

"If only
she had been a man!" Jeb’s words came back to him.

At the time he
had not known what Jeb meant. He knew now. But he could not agree. Because he
was grateful, with every fibre of his being, that she was a woman.

A smouldering
light glowed in his eyes as he remembered the feelings that had coursed through
him earlier in the evening. When she had declared that she would not marry him
- when, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed, she had thrown back her head, her
every word, her every gesture speaking defiance - then he had felt a surge of
admiration flood through him at the sight of her. He had been filled with the
wild desire to sweep her off her feet and carry her to the sofa where he had
longed to make passionate love to her . . . .

Oh, yes, he
thought, as the image danced before his eyes, he was extremely glad she was a
woman. Every inch a woman.

If only she
was not such a stubborn one.

He went over
to the washstand and threw water over his face and chest.

But one thing
was now certain. He must see as little as possible of her. He was powerfully
attracted to her, and now that she had refused his hand he must never let
himself be carried away again. There could be no repeat of the incident at Lady
Cranston’s ball. His dealings with Rebecca must be circumspect. He would not
compromise Jebadiah’s granddaughter in any way.

But it was
going to be almost impossible to restrain himself.

Chapter Six

 

Rebecca felt out of sorts.
She should have been pleased that she had irrevocably refused Joshua’s hand but
instead, unaccountably, she felt low in spirits. A week had passed since she
had refused him and she had not seen him since. Which was a good thing, she
told herself. Because it meant that he had accepted her refusal and did not
mean to offer her his hand again.

But for some
reason she could not comprehend her spirits were still low.

She picked up
her book and wandered over to the window, looking out at the snow. She, Hetty
and Charles had spent the last few days enjoying the delights of the winter
weather. They had taken a sled into the park and had tobogganed down the slopes
- ‘I am too old for this,’ Hetty had declared, but she had enjoyed it as much
as any of them. They had watched a collection of urchins building a snowman,
and they had indulged in a game of snowballs. But today it was snowing too
heavily to make them want to venture outside.

She was just
about to settle down with her book when she saw a familiar figure arriving at
the house.

It was Miss
Biddulph!

Delighted that
her companion had recovered sufficiently to complete the journey to
London
, Rebecca went out into
the hall to welcome her.

She could see
at once that Biddy was still weak, and rang for tea whilst settling Biddy by
the fire.

‘You look
tired,’ she said sympathetically as she sat down beside Biddy. ‘I hope you
haven’t overtaxed your strength by completing the journey.’

‘I am rather
tired,’ Biddy admitted. ‘But I felt well enough to travel, and besides, I did
not want to remain another night in an inn.’

‘I can
understand that,’ said Rebecca, thinking of the last night she herself had
spent at an inn - although she doubted that Biddy had had a similar experience!

Tea was
brought and Rebecca and Hetty, who bustled in as soon as she heard that Miss
Biddulph had arrived, set about seeing to Miss Biddulph’s comfort; for although
Miss Biddulph was acting as Rebecca’s companion on this trip, she had been
Rebecca’s governess in earlier days, and a strong friendship existed between
the three of them.

Charles, too,
was pleased to discover that Biddy had arrived. Once she had rested he
questioned her closely on the condition of the roads, which were now open again
after a lessening in the severity of the weather.

‘If the mail
has got through, then a private coach should be able to get through as well,’
said Charles. ‘We won’t have Joshua with us here in
London
for much longer, I fear.’

His words
proved to be prophetic. That afternoon Joshua called to make his farewells.

‘You’re
leaving us tomorrow, then?’ asked Charles, when Joshua had told them of his
plans.

‘Yes.’

Although she
had been expecting it, Rebecca, for some reason, felt her heart sink.

Joshua went
on. ‘Now the roads are passable there is nothing else to keep me here.’

He glanced at
Rebecca as he said it and then looked away again.

The thought
crossed Rebecca’s mind that, had she accepted his hand, there would have been
something to keep him in
London
: preparations for their wedding.

But of course,
she had not.

‘It won’t be
an easy journey, even now,’ said Charles, pursing his lips. ‘The roads are
still very bad in places. Miss Biddulph has been telling us all about it.’

‘Even so, I
mean to leave first thing in the morning. My work here is done, and I’m eager
to take over the running of the mill.’

‘We shall miss
you,’ said Hetty, kissing him on the cheek.

‘It’s been
good of you to put up with me for so long,’ Joshua said with a smile.

‘Nonsense!’
declared Hetty. ‘It hasn’t been long enough! We have hardly seen anything of
you this last week. But you will be in
London
again before long, I hope?’

‘That depends,’
said Joshua. ‘I will have to see how things go.’

‘Well, you
know you are always welcome here,’ remarked Hetty warmly.

Joshua took
his leave of Hetty and then turned to Rebecca. ‘Rebecca,’ he said, formally
taking his leave of her.

‘Joshua,’ she
replied equally formally as he bowed over her hand.


Your
parting
will not be of such a long duration,’ Hetty remarked innocently, ‘for you will
be seeing each other again before long.’ She smiled artlessly up at Joshua. ‘Rebecca
will be returning to
Cheshire
next week, and that of course is very near the mill.’

Rebecca felt
Joshua’s eyes rove over her face, but there was nothing burning in his glance.
Instead, his manner was cool and distant. ‘Until we next meet, then,’ he said.

And with that
he was gone.

 

The rest of Rebecca’s
visit passed quickly. She was determined to enjoy herself, and to make the most
of her time with Hetty and Charles in the capital.

Miss Biddulph
had by now completely recovered from her illness, and Rebecca was glad that
Biddy would be able to accompany them on their outings. It was for this reason
that Rebecca had asked her old governess to act as her companion on the long
journey, knowing that Biddy would enjoy herself in
London
, visiting the elegant shops and
interesting museums, once they arrived.

With the
weather a little improved Rebecca, Biddy and Hetty embarked on a number of
shopping trips. Cousin Louisa, unable to travel to
London
herself because of her rheumatism,
had given Rebecca a list of commissions, and these commissions Rebecca now set
about fulfilling. She enjoyed purchasing the lengths of silk and muslin her
cousin had asked for, as well as slippers and bonnets and a host of smaller
items that bore the stamp of
London
instead of the less modish stamp of the provinces.

In this way
the final week of Rebecca’s visit passed, and before long it was time for her,
too, to leave.

‘You hardly
seem to have been here two minutes,’ said Hetty regretfully as she kissed
Rebecca goodbye. ‘Next time, you must come for longer.’

‘If Louisa is
fit to travel, I will,’ Rebecca promised, returning Hetty’s embrace. ‘I did not
like to leave her too long on her own this time.’

Charles gave
her his hand and wished her a safe journey. ‘And remember, you are welcome here
any time,’ he said.

Rebecca
thanked her.

Hetty and
Charles bade Miss Biddulph farewell, and hoped she would not take cold again
from the journey.

Then,
fastening the strings of her bonnet and smoothing her travelling cloak, Rebecca
pulled on her gloves and the two ladies made ready to depart.

‘I have had
the squabs warmed with warming pans,’ said Hetty, as she accompanied Rebecca
and Miss Biddulph out of the front door. ‘There are two stone hot water bottles
for your feet - one for each of you - and two silver flasks of hot water to
warm your hands. The travelling rug has been warmed. I do hope your journey won’t
be too uncomfortable.’

‘It will be
better than the journey down to
London
, I’m sure,’ said Rebecca, looking around her. The snow still
lingered, but the roads were relatively clear. The worst of the winter weather
was over.

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