“What is Frost Fair?” Rebecca looked up from the journal. She had never heard any mention of it before, and was curious as to what it could be.

“It really is quite exciting,” said Hetty. “I was talking to Mrs Minshull last night and she told me all about it. She and her husband have been, it seems, and they found it most exhilarating. Frost Fair is a fair set up on the Thames,” she explained, “The weather has been so cold this winter that the river has frozen over.”

Rebecca looked at her in surprise.

“It is quite true, I assure you,” said Hetty. “I haven't taken leave of my senses! But it is not to be wondered at that you are surprised. I was surprised myself. I do not remember the Thames ever freezing before — although I believe my mother told me about something similar happening in her childhood,” she said with a frown, as she struggled to recall the memory.

“Yes,” she said more definitely, “I believe she did. Not that I ever saw it then, of course. But I would like to see it now. It is truly amazing, or so Mrs Minshull says. And it is not only the river that is amazing, it is what has been done to it. The shopkeepers and hawkers have lost no time in transforming it into a street — Freezewater Street, they call it. They've set up stalls and booths, and are busy selling their wares. But that is not all. There are jugglers and acrobats to entertain people, and all manner of open-air coffee shops —”

“Coffee shops?” interrupted Rebecca, growing more and more surprised.

“Yes. People have to have something hot inside them to keep out the cold,” Hetty explained.

“But surely the ice isn't strong enough to hold tables and chairs, as well as stalls and booths and people?” asked Rebecca.

“It appears to be. Apparently, it is solid. And not only tables and chairs have been set out on it, but braziers, too. There are all manner of meats and pastries for sale, and roasted chestnuts. In fact, the chestnuts are particularly good, if Mrs Minshull is to be believed.”

“Mrs Minshull is fond of chestnuts?” asked Rebecca humorously, remembering that lady's impressive girth.

Hetty's eyes twinkled. “She is. But it is not just the stalls of food that sound so interesting, it is the host of things to do. There are skates to hire, and all kinds of other entertainments. I thought, if you liked, we could go.”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” said Rebecca, caught by Hetty's enthusiasm.

“Then it is settled. We will go this afternoon.”

*  *  *

After luncheon, wrapped up well against the cold, Rebecca, Hetty and Charles set out to visit Frost Fair. A few soft white snowflakes drifted out of the sky as they stepped into the carriage, but otherwise the day was fine. Once they were settled the carriage set off at a sedate pace. The roads were very slippery, and Charles had given his coachman instructions to take matters carefully, as he did not want to risk any injury to the horses.

London looked very different under its thick coating of snow and Rebecca barely recognised the streets. They looked strange compared to the last time she had seen them, in the summer. But it was the river that was the most startling sight. It had been completely transformed.

“It's breathtaking,” gasped Rebecca as she stepped out of the carriage once they reached the Thames. She marvelled at the change the bitterly cold weather had brought about. The river, which usually flowed merrily past, was now frozen solid. Up and down its length boats and ships could be seen, caught fast like flies in amber, trapped until the thaw.

“It is indeed,” came a voice behind her.

Turning round she saw Joshua.

She had not been prepared for his presence, as she had not known he intended to visit the fair. As he took her hand her heart missed a beat and her wayward imagination returned to their encounter in the morning-room at Lady Cranston's ball.

With difficulty she schooled her thoughts, bringing them determinedly back to the present.

“Joshua,” said Hetty, greeting him warmly. “What a nice surprise to find you here. Isn't it a marvellous sight?”

“It is,” he said. But instead of taking in his surroundings, his eyes lingered on Rebecca as he said it.

“I can't believe all these stalls and booths have been set up on the ice,” said Hetty as they began to walk across the frozen river, taking in the varied scene. “I know Mrs Minshull told me all about it, but still, seeing it all is very different to hearing about it. I have never seen anything quite like it.”

Rebecca was relieved at the normality of Hetty's conversation. It drew her thoughts back to the present, and away from the disturbing aura generated by Joshua. It was an aura of strength and ruthlessness, and something more. There seemed something particular about it today, and she was pleased she was not alone with him. If she had been, she would have been even less at ease. She had the unnerving feeling there was something he wanted to say to her, and although she had no idea what it could be she guessed, from the way he was looking at her, it was something that could not be said in front of Hetty and Charles.

Endeavouring to shake off the feeling she turned her thoughts away from Joshua and gave her attention to the scene that met her eyes. Everywhere she looked people seemed to be enjoying themselves. Some, like her own party, were people of fashion, out unusually early in order to savour the novel experience of the Fair. Others were people from less exalted walks of life: apprentices with their sweethearts, servants on their half-day holidays, and grubby urchins revelling in the noise and confusion of the scene.

And then there were those who were making their living from the Fair: the hawkers and the piemen who walked confidently across the ice with trays of pies on their heads, and a string of stray dogs following hopefully behind them! There were stilt walkers and fire eaters who roused the admiration of the onlookers with their amazing skills; and pedlars who sold ribbons and ballad sheets from trays hung round their necks.

The scents were no less varied. The food on offer filled the air with the smell of pies and cakes, chestnuts and gingerbread, roast meat and apples.

It was a wonderful occasion.

“My dear?” said Charles, offering Hetty his arm.

Hetty took his proffered arm with alacrity, and Rebecca realized with a sinking feeling that she was going to have to take Joshua's arm.

Sure enough he offered it to her, an unfathomable gleam in his eye.

Acrobats tumbled past them as they walked across the ice. Jugglers threw multi-coloured balls into the air and caught them again, displaying their skill.

Hetty and Charles stopped to watch the printing presses turning out the latest satirical prints, making fun of the coldness of the weather, and at last they all sat down at an open-air coffee house and had steaming hot drinks.

Fortified by the coffee, they risked eating slices of "Lapland Mutton" from a stall — “although it's no more from Lapland than I am!” laughed Charles — and followed it with steaming hot rolls.

She would have been enjoying it, Rebecca thought, if not for Joshua's unsettling presence. Because, despite the fact that his nearness should mean no more to her than the nearness of any other gentleman, it was playing havoc with her insides. It kept throwing up the memory of the previous evening, when he had taken her into his arms; and the unsettling realization that, as his mouth had hovered mere inches from hers, she had wanted to feel his kiss.

Having refreshed themselves they set off again and soon came upon a stall renting out skates.

“Oh, wonderful!” exclaimed Hetty. “It's ages since I've been skating. Do you skate, Joshua?” she asked him.

“I do.”

“Then you must skate with Rebecca,” said Hetty, “for I am not very good at it, and I will need Charles's arm to support me.”

“It will be my pleasure,” said Joshua with a purposeful look in his eye.

Before long, Rebecca had fastened on a pair of skates and was heading out to the centre of the ice on Josh's arm. He skated well, with long, powerful strokes. Once in a clear space he drew her towards him in one smooth gesture and put his arm around her waist. Then, taking her hand he set about guiding her across the ice.

The ice was as smooth and as slippery as glass. The sweeping boys had done their jobs well, plying their birch brooms to keep it free of slush and debris, and brushing it clean of the churned- up ice the skates left in their wakes.

Joshua glanced towards Hetty and Charles. He and Rebecca were still in sight of them, but they were now so far away that their conversation could not be overheard.

“Rebecca,” he said, breaking the silence that lay between them, “we have to talk.”

“Of course we do,” said Rebecca hastily. She did not know what he was going to say, but some instinct warned her not to let him say it, so pretending she thought he'd meant, “We can't skate round in silence,” she said conversationally, “Tell me Joshua, when will you be going to Manchester? Now that you have inherited half the mill, I am sure you will want to be attending to business.”

“Trying to get rid of me, Becky?” he asked, an amused twinkle in his eye.

“No, of course not,” she said uncomfortably.

“That's good,” he said. But then he became serious. “Rebecca, I was wrong to let you go last night. I shouldn't have let you return to the ballroom after our meeting in the morning-room until things had been settled between us.”

Rebecca felt her pulse begin to quicken. Until things had been settled between them? What did he mean?