Joshua had not come to do any such thing, of that Rebecca was sure. But Louisa's spontaneous words left him with no alternative and he murmured, “Delighted.”

Mr Willingham, robbed of his chance to escort Rebecca, made his excuses and then left them, for which Rebecca would have been grateful if it had not meant that she had to go in to supper with Joshua.

She had found his heat and passion difficult to cope with. She was finding his coldness far worse.

“I told Rebecca we would see you here,” said Louisa happily. “I had hoped to see you sooner, but I dare say you have been busy with the mill.”

Joshua responded warmly, and Rebecca was pleased to see that, although his attitude to her was distinctly cool, his manner with Louisa was friendly and unrestrained.

And yet it made her realize that this was yet another feature of his personality which drew her to Joshua — his kindness to those so much weaker than himself.

Her feelings were becoming confused again, she realized. Given that he had offered her his hand for the sake of her reputation she was not sorry she had refused it. But yet the thought of his never offering it to her again made her feel very low.

It was all too difficult. She was not used to such conflicting emotions, and she found them most uncomfortable. But then, wasn't that what love was all about?

Love! What nonsense. In love with Joshua? What an idea! She was perplexed by him. Angered. Confused. Provoked. But in love with him?

Never.

“But come!” said Louisa, rescuing Rebecca from her thoughts. “We must go into supper, and you can tell us all about it.”

Joshua made Rebecca a stiff bow and offered her his arm. She placed her hand on it, letting her fingertips barely graze it, and they went into supper.

“You must be delighted to be running the mill at last,” said Louisa. “I know how interested you were in it, and how you spent a great deal of time with Jebadiah whilst he taught you all about it. What a long time ago that seems.”

“I am delighted,” Joshua agreed, scarcely looking at Rebecca as he took his place at the table.

“Fancy Jebadiah leaving half of the mill to Rebecca! Stocks and bonds, these are what most people would have left, but not Jebadiah! He was an eccentric old man, to be sure. But Rebecca has always been so clever, and Jebadiah liked clever women. Our grandmother had a keen mind. So I suppose it is no wonder, after all.” She beamed at them both. “And when are you going to show her round the mill?” she asked.

Rebecca glanced at Joshua. He glanced at her at the same moment and their eyes met. He looked away.

Rebecca had a momentary wish that she had never expressed an interest in the mill; that she had said from the outset that she wanted nothing to do with it; because becoming involved in the mill would mean spending time with Joshua, and despite the fact that she did not love him — as she firmly told herself — she felt a strange connection to him which was making it difficult for her to be in his company.

A moment later she chided herself for cowardice.

Of course she must take an interest in the mill. She owed it to her grandfather. And besides, she was interested, and felt she had a part to play. If she found it difficult to be in Joshua's company, that was simply a misfortune she would have to bear.

“Perhaps we can set a date for my visit to the mill tonight,” she said, as they sat down to a varied selection of appetizing food. “Now that I am in Manchester I would like to see round it as soon as possible.”

He replied politely but coolly. “Of course.”

“I thought perhaps Friday,” went on Rebecca. “If you do not have time to show me round yourself, perhaps the manager can do so,” she said, her courage suddenly faltering.

“Of course Joshua will have time to show you round!” exclaimed Louisa.

“I would be delighted to be of service to you,” he said formally. Though whether he would have said it if not for Louisa's exclamation Rebecca had no way of knowing. “Shall we say, two o'clock?”

“Two o'clock,” Rebecca agreed.

She took a sip of wine.

“And I suppose I must go with you as your chaperon,” said Louisa doubtfully.

“You must do no such thing,” said Rebecca. She knew how timid Louisa was, and knew she would not like to visit the mill. “Betsy will come with me.”

“Well, dear, if you're sure,” said Louisa. She tried to appear unconcerned, but there was a note of relief in her voice.

“Perfectly sure,” said Rebecca reassuringly.

Feeling Joshua's eyes on her she turned just in time to see a hint of warmth in his eyes before he turned away again: he, too, had known how little Louisa would like a visit to the mill, and was pleased Rebecca had spared her the ordeal.

But the warmth was quickly quelled, and later that night, as she readied herself for bed, Rebecca found herself wondering whether it had really been there, or whether she had imagined it.

*  *  *

Miss Serena Quentin's beautiful face wore a scowl as she sat before her dressing table whilst her maid unpinned her hair. The evening had not been a success. Bored of the young men who habitually frequented Manchester's social gatherings she had turned her attention to the harshly attractive Joshua Kelling, only to have him dismiss her as casually as if she had been an elderly dowager, instead of worshiping her as the beautiful and alluring young woman she was. It was bad enough that he had walked away from her — Serena walked away from gentlemen; they never walked away from her — but the fact that he had been seen doing so by Miss Lavinia Madely had made it a hundred times worse.

Serena's scowl deepened as she thought of Lavinia Madely, her only serious challenger for the position of Manchester's greatest beauty. The two had been rivals ever since they had come out.

Lavinia's flaxen hair contrasted with the beauty of Serena's guinea-gold curls. Each had their own court of admirers, but Mr Kelling did not seem to want to belong to either set.

“You're losing your touch,” Lavinia had smirked when Joshua had walked away from her.

To which she had replied, seriously angry, “I can soon bring him to heel.”

Lavinia had lifted one beautifully arched eyebrow. “A wager?” she had asked. “To make it more interesting. Ten guineas declares you cannot bring him to propose.”

Fired up by Lavinia's taunting, Serena had accepted. And she had done it with style!

“Ten guineas?” she had asked disdainfully. “It's hardly worth my while. Let's make it twenty.”

On which sum they had agreed.

Twenty guineas if Mr Kelling proposed.

And humiliation if he did not.

It would have been a rash wager, even for Serena, if not for one thing.

Dismissing her maid she crossed to her escritoire and took out a folder in which she kept her correspondence. Her female correspondence, that was. Her letters from gentlemen were kept in quite a separate place. But her innocent letters, from relatives and the like, were kept in plain view. She took out a recent missive from her cousin and, climbing into bed, read it through again.

The letter had been sent from London, where her cousin Sarah was staying with an aunt. Serena, too, had been invited, but she did not like London out of Season, and so she had refused. But Sarah's letter had made interesting reading. Especially the bit about Lady Cranston's ball.

Serena found the right page and read it through.

“You'll never guess who I saw last night, at Lady Cranston's ball. Mr Kelling! Though what he is doing in London I don't know. I thought he was still in Manchester, running Marsden mill. He is looking more devilishly handsome than ever. But that is not what I want to tell you. Miss Fossington is here too! And what do you think? I just happened to be passing the door of the morning-room, quite by chance —”

Sneaked out of the ballroom after Mr Kelling, and put her ear to the keyhole more likely, thought Serena spitefully —

“—and what do you think I heard? A conversation, revealing Mr Kelling had compromised Miss Fossington! I didn't hear all the details, for some clumsy person knocked over a chair and the sound disturbed them —”

Really, Sarah, you must be more careful when you are eavesdropping, thought Serena with contempt, realizing at once what must have happened —

“but that is not the end of it, for I happened to see them together at Frost Fair the following day, and as I was skating past —”

Sarah is becoming an accomplished spy, thought Serena —

“I accidentally overheard Mr Kelling proposing to her in order to save her reputation. But what do you think? Miss Fossington refused him!”

Serena scanned the letter again and then folded it thoughtfully, putting it back in her satin folder.

It was this letter which had decided her not only to accept Lavinia's wager, but to double it, for it told her that Joshua Kelling, for all his wild appearance, was in fact a gentleman, and that he would, if he could be manoeuvred into compromising her, propose. That being so she would win her wager and give Lavinia Madely the biggest set-down of her life.

Whether she would actually marry Mr Kelling once she had trapped him into proposing to her Serena did not know. Something about his wildness alarmed her, and she had a feeling that, although she might be able to force him to offer her his hand, she would not be able to control him if they wed.

Still, she did not have to many him. All she had to do was get him to propose. After that her wager would be won and the betrothal could be broken off at any time.