Joshua was continuing. “I should have realized when it happened that we might have been seen together at The Nag's Head, and as soon as I met you again I should have taken the necessary steps to protect your reputation and keep you free of the interference of people like George Lacy. However, what's done is done. What matters now is not the past but the present. We must salvage the situation, and marry without delay.”

“We must. . . ?” gasped Rebecca. She had not known where Joshua's conversation was leading, but she had never expected this. In her astonishment she dug her toes instinctively into the ice and came to a swift halt, leaving Joshua to come to a sharp stop beside her.

“Marry,” said Joshua, turning to face her, his eyes boring into her own. “Without delay.”

“Have you run mad?” asked Rebecca. “We scarcely know each other, and yet —”

“I can assure you I have never been more sane.”

He spoke sharply, and she was surprised at the harshness of his tone. A moment's reflection, however, told her that he had expected her to fall in with his plans — although knowing her stubborn nature he should have been prepared for her to have her own opinion on the matter — and she realized that her reaction had shocked him.

“I have no more wish to be leg-shackled than you,” he went on, “but as I have compromised you we must marry as soon as the banns have been read.”

“You have run mad,” said Rebecca determinedly.

“You think we should have some pretence of a courtship?” he asked.

She gasped. How could he have so misunderstood her refusal to fall in with his plans, thinking she objected only to the speed at which they were to be carried out?

“Yes, you are right,” he said thoughtfully. “If we marry too quickly tongues will be sure to wag, and it's no use our marrying in order to scotch one kind of rumour if all we do is succeed in creating another. We will take our time, then, and have a three-month engagement period. That should be long enough to silence the gossips, and convince them you are not...”

“With child?” she demanded.

He gave a wicked smile. “I was going to say, enceinte,” he remarked.

“Which is simply society's word for the same condition,” she returned. “However, you misunderstand me entirely if you think I object to the length of the engagement. I object to the whole idea. I have no intention of marrying you, either with or without a pretence of courtship. I have seen you but three times before today, and yet you propose that I should spend the rest of my life with you. I would not —”

“Would not what?” he demanded, his eyes beginning to spark. “Save your reputation?”

“My reputation?” she demanded. “What, pray, makes you think it needs saving? No one saw us together that night save for George Lacy, and he will not say anything. I will certainly not tell anyone. Will you?” she challenged him.

“No, of course not,” he said angrily. “But the fact remains —”

“The fact remains that you must have taken leave of your senses. Marry you, indeed!”

“It seems a bad bargain to you?” he demanded, catching hold of her wrist.

Looking at him then, with his dark blond hair and burning eyes, his firm chin and square-cut jaw, his broad shoulders and muscular physique, she had the insane feeling that it might not be such a bad bargain after all.

But what was she thinking? Of course it would be a bad bargain. The whole idea was ridiculous! She barely knew him. And from her grandfather's tales about his exploits, she was sure he was not the husband for her, and it was something her own experiences had confirmed. Despite his powerful magnetism, he clearly did not see her as an equal, and she had no intention of marrying a man who saw her as his inferior.

“I see no point in continuing with this conversation,” she said, fighting down her anger and replying with as much coldness as she could muster. Then, turning away from him, she began to skate back towards Hetty and Charles. But he caught up with her with a powerful thrust of his firmly-muscled legs and took hold of her round the waist.

To the crowds who skated past them they looked to be skating along in perfect amity, but Rebecca was seething inside.

“Let go of me,” she said.

“No.”

“I demand —”

“We will return to Hetty and Charles together, as we left them,” he said between gritted teeth. “And we will inform them of our betrothal.”

“You cannot make me marry you,” she said, her voice just as determined as his. She dug in her toes, this time deliberately, until she had come to a stop. She had no intention of returning to Hetty and Charles until this ridiculous nonsense had been brought to an end. “If you choose to be so foolish as to tell Hetty and Charles that we are betrothed then I will be forced to tell them that we are not.”

Whereupon she skated off. And this time, though his face was thunderous, he let her go.

“Where is Josh?” asked Hetty, as Rebecca skated up to her.

“I... wanted to practise a little skating unaided,” said Rebecca. She did not like lying to Hetty, but she did not feel equal to explaining the true situation. “He is following me. Ah, here he is now.”

Joshua skated up.

“Well, this has been a most enjoyable afternoon,” said Charles, as the four of them returned their skates to the stall. “I think, though, if you're ready, it's time for us to leave.” He looked up at the sky. “The light was already fading. The short winter day was closing in, and before long it would be dark. You'll come back with us to Sloane Street, I hope, Josh? There are some business matters on which I would value your advice.”

Rebecca looked down at the ice, willing him to refuse. But then she heard him say, “I'd be delighted.”

Somehow, although she may have won the battle, Rebecca had the feeling she had not won the war. She may have refused him once, but she feared he would not allow the matter to rest. He had a stubborn streak, as she had already discovered. Well, if it came to that, so did she.

They left the frozen Thames and Charles tried to hail a hansom to take them back to Sloane Street: their own carriage had long since returned home, as it was too cold to keep the horses waiting. But there were few hansoms out and about that day. The weather made the going treacherous, and not all the cab drivers wanted to risk their horses in such conditions. The hansoms which were driving round the streets were therefore in demand, and in the end the party experienced such difficulty in trying to hail a cab they decided to walk back to Sloane Street. Their only proviso was that they would hail a cab if they saw one on the way.

Rebecca endeavoured to walk with Hetty and Charles, but Hetty had already claimed Charles's arm, and it was not possible for all four of them to walk abreast. There was no escape. She was forced to walk behind her aunt and uncle with Joshua. However, she meant to behave with such icy civility that he had no opportunity to raise the subject of marriage again.

She was fortunate, however, as Joshua seemed to have no more inclination to talk than she had, doubtless because she kept such a brisk pace that they kept close behind Hetty and Charles and there was no opportunity for a truly private conversation.

At length Hetty and Charles crossed the road. A carriage rolled past behind them, and Rebecca, stopping at the edge of the pavement, glanced to both right and left after it had gone to make sure that all was clear. Some way up the road to their right a solitary rider was heading towards them, but his pace was so slow and his distance from them so great that it seemed safe to cross. Together she and Joshua stepped into the road.

And then, in a matter of seconds, everything changed. The horse was suddenly careering towards them, slipping and sliding on the snow and ice, and bearing down upon them in the most alarming way. Rebecca looked up, and to her horror she saw that, instead of trying to slow the animal down, the rider seemed to be urging it on.

Surely he knows it isn't safe to push the animal to such speed when the road is so slippery? she thought, shocked, as the horse careered towards them.

The rider raised his whip.

It is not the animal's fault, she thought angrily, seeing the man was about to control the horse with cruelty... when she had the sudden, alarming feeling, that the whip was not aimed at the horse, but at Joshua. She turned towards him, but he was more concerned for her safety than his own and he pushed her unceremoniously out of the horse's path.

Which left him directly in front of it.

The rider brought down his whip —

“No!” cried Rebecca.

She watched, horrified, as the man's whip hand began to descend, but Joshua, stepping out of the horse's path, reached up to the rider and caught his wrist. There was a brief struggle, and then Joshua wrested the whip from the man's hand.

“What the devil do you think you're doing —?” he began.

But the rider, deprived of his whip, wheeled his horse around. It slipped all over the road before finally managing to find its footing, and the horseman rode away.

“What the hell was that all about?” said Joshua under his breath, eyes narrowing; before joining Rebecca on the far side of the road. Turning to her in concern he said, “Are you all right?”

Rebecca was trying to gather her wits. She could still hardly believe what had happened. The rider had seemed to be deliberately riding towards them and then deliberately aiming the whip at Joshua. But of course that was not possible. He must have been trying to control his horse and, having to wrestle with the slipping animal, had misjudged his aim. Even so it had given her quite a fright.