“You have a partner, I understand? He will no doubt see to the mill's security and take care of any difficulties that may arise.”

By this time they had reached the library and Rebecca's conversation with Mr Willingham was brought to an end.

The gentlemen stood back to allow the ladies to enter first and Rebecca was able to free herself from Mr Willingham's company, falling in beside Mrs Renwick instead.

Conversation then became more general. The ladies exclaimed on the wonderful things they had seen in the shops, whilst the gentlemen fetched them ices. Though the weather was cold, the shopping had heated the ladies and they were glad of the cool refreshment. Whilst they ate, they showed each other their purchases, and the gentlemen contented themselves with talking about the war. An hour later, feeling much refreshed, Rebecca and Louisa took their leave.

“For we must get ready for the evening's entertainment,” Louisa said, before she and Rebecca departed.

*  *  *

Rebecca found herself looking forward to the soirée as she stepped out of the carriage later that evening and made her way, beside Louisa, into Mrs Camberwell's house. She was dressed in a becoming gown of white satin with an underskirt of deepest crimson. Deep reds were still fashionable, according to the Ladies' Monthly Museum, and Rebecca was glad of it. Strong colours had always suited her snow-white complexion and her rich, dark hair.

Mrs Camberwell lived with her brother in one of the fashionable new houses that were going up in Manchester all the time. It was similar to the house Rebecca and Louisa had rented, but its furniture and decorations were much more elegant and reflected Mrs Camberwell's fine taste. Gilded mirrors hung on the walls, Buhl furniture graced the living rooms, and Aubusson carpets softened the floors.

“My dears, I am so glad you could come,” said Mrs Camberwell, taking them by the arm and leading them in. “There are so many people I am longing to introduce you to. My sister, Camilla, you already know,” she said, indicating Mrs Renwick, “and... .”

Rebecca heard no more. Standing at the far side of the room, which had been arranged ready for the evening's music with rows of chairs facing an ornate music stand, was Joshua.

Now that matters had been resolved between them, Rebecca had hoped they could look forward to a normal working relationship. But all such reasonable thoughts flew out of the window when she saw him at the other side of the room.

He was looking more devastatingly attractive than she had ever seen him. His clothes were immaculate, clinging to his body as though they had been formed around him, revealing the hard contours of his broad shoulders and the firm lines of his powerful chest. His hair, by contrast, was rumpled, as though he had run his hands though it. But instead of making him look untidy it made him look vigorous and vital. His face, catching the shadows created by the candles, was sharply contoured, and where his cheekbones caught the light they glowed.

He turned as she walked into the room, but there was nothing burning in his gaze. Instead it was cool.

His apparent indifference hurt her. Despite the fact she had refused his hand she found she could not be indifferent to him. It was not simply because she was attracted to him, it was because of the way she felt in his company — truly alive.

But she must quell such unruly feelings. Because having given her a cold nod he had turned his attention back to the young lady he was talking to, and to make things ten times worse, that young lady was Miss Serena Quentin.

Rebecca had met Miss Quentin on a number of the recent dinner parties and she did not like the coquettish blonde, who had a hard, ruthless streak — but then, Rebecca reminded herself, so did Joshua.

Rebecca averted her gaze, but not before she had noticed that Joshua was apparently enjoying Miss Quentin's bold sallies.

Rebecca forced herself to give her attention back to Mrs Camberwell.

“... Mr Willingham,” finished Mrs Camberwell.

Rebecca managed a polite smile as Mr Willingham bent over her hand.

“We meet again,” he said.

“Yes, indeed,” said Rebecca.

“You have already met?” asked Mrs Camberwell in surprise.

“Ihad the pleasure of meeting Miss Fossington this afternoon, outside the Exchange Hall,” said Mr Willingham. “I was with Mr and Mrs Renwick,” he explained. “We repaired to the library and partook of some ices.” He gave his attention back to Rebecca. “I may be allowed to sit next to you, I hope, when the music begins?”

Rebecca said that he might.

As the musicians set up their music stands he began to tell her all about the excellent concerts that were held in Manchester.

“I wouldn't want you to think the mills are the sum total of the city,” he said. “We are as cultured as our fellows in London, I hope. Concerts in the Cornmarket are a regular feature of life in Manchester.”

Rebecca answered him politely, but couldn't help her eyes once again drifting to Joshua. Was he really finding Miss Quentin so diverting? she wondered, as he smiled again at something the young lady said.

As Rebecca talked to Mr Willingham about her impressions of Manchester, Mrs Camberwell drew Edward, her brother, aside.

“I want you to pay particular attention to Rebecca this evening, Edward,” she said to him in an undertone.

Edward looked mildly surprised.

“She seems to be getting on very well with Willingham,” he said. “He's a very wealthy gentleman, and a man of some influence in Manchester. I thought you would be keen to promote the match.”

“Willingham? Nonsense! Rebecca was made for Joshua.”

Edward glanced at Joshua. “I hate to contradict you, Emily, but his interests lie in another direction. He seems to be very taken with Miss Quentin.”

“Serena Quentin is a scheming hussy who wants to add him to her list of conquests. But Joshua has too much sense to be taken in by her. He is simply passing the time.”

“He seems to find it a very pleasant way of doing so.”

“Nonsense,” declared Mrs Camberwell. “Didn't you see the look on his face when Willingham kissed Rebecca's hand? He looked as if he'd like to strangle the man with his bare hands.”

“Really, Emily,” said Edward, but without any real hope of changing his sister, or of encouraging her to use less dramatic turns of phrase.

“Which is why I want you to pay attention to her,” said Emily.

“Why?” he asked her innocently. “So that Joshua can strangle me with his bare hands?”

“Nonsense!” said Emily in exasperation. “Of course not! So that he'll be jealous, of course.”

“I cannot see the point of making him jealous, when Rebecca, too, is clearly interested elsewhere. She is looking avidly at Mr Willingham,” he protested mildly.

“Only because she has impeccable manners and therefore looks at him when he is talking to her. But the second he looks away from her, her eyes go straight to Joshua. There is evidently some bad blood between them but they are finding it difficult to keep their eyes off each other. See!” she declared triumphantly, as Mr Willingham helped himself to a drink from a tray carried round by a waiter and Rebecca's glance went at once to Joshua. “What did I tell you!”

Unaware of Mrs Camberwell's well-meaning interference, Rebecca continued to talk politely to Mr Willingham, whilst wishing he would betake himself off to one of the other young ladies who glided round the room. However, he seemed to want nothing better than to stay by her side — as Miss Quentin seemed to want nothing better than to stay by Joshua's side.

Serena was teasing him about something, that much was obvious, and the harder Rebecca tried not to take any notice of it the more the conversation seemed to reach her ears.

“Do let me!” Miss Quentin was saying laughingly, tugging at Joshua's hand. “It is such a pretty ring, and would look so lovely on my finger.”

Rebecca realized with a sinking feeling that Miss Quentin wanted to try on Joshua's signet ring, the one that had been left to him by her grandfather.

Joshua evidently shared her feelings on the subject, however, for his voice, deep and masculine, carried towards her across the room. “No.”

Rebecca glanced in his direction and saw him put his hand down firmly by his side. Miss Quentin pouted, but he remained unmoved. “I will allow no one else to wear that particular ring,” he said.

“Not even your future bride?” asked Miss Quentin, looking up at him with a sideways glance.

Joshua laughed. “For my future bride I will make an exception,” he said. A moment later dashing her hopes by adding with a sardonic smile, “But not for you.”

Miss Quentin pouted, but Joshua was impervious to her coquettish ways and making her a mocking bow he left her side.

Rebecca hastily turned her attention back to Mr Willingham, who was exhorting her to choose a seat for the concert.

As the music began, Rebecca thought that the one bright spot of the evening was that Louisa appeared to be having an enjoyable time. The gentle spinster's face glowed and she looked much younger than her five-and-forty years. Edward Sidders had noticed it, too, if the animation of his conversation was anything to go by, and Rebecca was glad. It was time Cousin Louisa had some fun.

Then she gave her attention to the music. The lady harpist's fingers flew over the strings, and the time passed most agreeably until supper.

“Ah! Here is Joshua,” said Louisa, as she and Edward joined Rebecca. “He has come to take you into supper.”