Amanda Grange - Rebecca’s Refusal

She nodded.

He drew in a sharp breath. “Then it would seem the Luddites are still active.”

Despite his words, Rebecca detected a note of uncertainty in his voice.

“But you are not sure?” she asked.

“The Luddites are well organized and don't attack without reason. They target mills where the wages have been lowered, for example, and not mills like ours. It is possible they have been frustrated by their recent defeats and have changed their ways, but let us just say I am not convinced.”

They went down the next flight of stairs.

As they reached the bottom Rebecca caught sight of something glittering on the floor — a red spark. Could it be another fire? she wondered with a shock; before realizing it was the beading on her missing reticule. She breathed a sigh of relief. In all the excitement she had almost forgotten about it, but here it was, waiting patiently for her to find it. She bent to retrieve it.

“Your reticule,” said Joshua.

“Yes.” She closed her hand round it gratefully.

“The braiding on the handle has frayed,” she remarked as she examined it. “It must have fallen off when the braid wore through.”

She put it away in the pocket of her pelisse and together she and Joshua left the mill.

Joshua stopped briefly in the yard to examined the words, LONG LIVE NED LUDD scrawled on the wall. His eyes narrowed as he took in the large red letters, which were still wet and glistening in the moonlight. Then they continued on their way to the carriage.

“Did you get a good look at the man who did it?” asked Joshua as the gatekeeper greeted them, expressing delight that Rebecca had found her reticule.

“Unfortunately, no,” said Rebecca as they passed through the gate. “I couldn't see him clearly. He was just a figure in the moonlight.”

“Then you would not recognize him if you saw him again.”

Rebecca considered. “I think, actually, I would. Although I did not get a good look at him, he had a curious way of moving. He walked with a loping gait. I wouldn't recognize his features, but I'd recognize the way he walks.”

“Good. That will be useful for identifying him if we ever manage to catch him.”

They approached the carriage, and Rebecca's thoughts turned to Betsy, who had been left outside all this time. Although she had not been in the mill for very long — everything had happened so quickly that it had taken far less time than it had seemed — she was still worried about the elderly maid. But she need not have been. As Collins let down the step and Joshua handed her in she saw that Betsy was still tucked up in the travelling rug. With two stone hot-water bottles at her feet she was snug and warm and still fast asleep.

As Rebecca took her seat, Betsy stirred.

“Why, Miss Rebecca,” she said. “Are we here already?”

“We are. And ready to go home. I have found my reticule,” said Rebecca.

“That was lucky,” Betsy said, “finding it so quick and all. I'm glad you didn't have to go into that nasty mill again.”

Rebecca did not enlighten her, or tell her how long she had slept. If Betsy had realized she had been asleep for half an hour, and that Rebecca had gone into the mill without her, she would have been mortified.

“Mr Joshua is returning with us” said Rebecca as Joshua followed her into the carriage.

“A good idea” said Betsy comfortably as Joshua shut the carriage door. And then they were away, before long arriving at the house, to find Louisa waiting for them.

“I was beginning to get anxious” she said. She greeted them with relief as they went inside.

“No need” said Rebecca, smiling reassuringly. “We are here safe and sound.”

“Did you find your reticule?” asked Louisa.

“I did.” Rebecca held it up to show her. “It must have slipped from my wrist. Look, the braid has worn through.”

“I thought that must have been what had happened. But never mind, all's well that ends well. And you have brought Joshua with you. I was so hoping he would be able to come. Oh!”

This last exclamation was wrung out of her by the sight of Joshua, dusty and grimy, who was bearing all the signs of having been trapped in the recent fire.

Catching sight of himself in one of the gilded glasses that hung on the wall, Joshua realized that his appearance would need some explaining.

“Unfortunately, I did not have time to wash before I came,” he said. “Mills can be very dirty places.”

It was not the truth, but Louisa accepted his explanation, and Rebecca was glad that Joshua had spared Louisa any worry, not telling her about the real events of the evening.

“I can quite imagine,” Louisa said. “You will want water and soap. And towels,” she added, going into hostess mode. “Betsy, will you see to it that Mr Joshua has everything he needs? Use the guest room,' she said, turning back to Joshua. “I am so glad you are here. Dirty or not, we are always pleased to see you.”

Betsy, much refreshed after her short sleep, bid Joshua follow her and Rebecca excused herself, saying she, too, would like to wash and change before dinner.

“Of course, dear,” said Louisa approvingly. “And then, as soon as you are ready, we will eat.”

After the excitement of the afternoon Rebecca was glad to be able to relax and eat a superb dinner in the company of her favourite people. She had not forgotten what had happened in London, when a stone had been thrown through the window, but the dining-room in Manchester was at the back of the house and so she was able to unwind, safe in the knowledge there could be no repeat of that incident.

Putting all worries aside she gave herself up to an enjoyment of the tasty soup.

To begin with, Betsy had cooked for Rebecca and Louisa, but it had proved too much for her. At their own home in Cheshire she had everything familiar about her, but here in Manchester the kitchen was very different and Betsy was too old to take kindly to change. So, on Mrs Camberwell's advice, Louisa had employed the services of a cook.

“Do I detect Mrs Neville's hand in this?” asked Edward Sidders, as he tasted the soup.

Louisa nodded. “I'm indebted to Emily for recommending her to me. She really is an excellent cook.”

“She used to work for Emily at one time, but she was tempted away by a baronet,” said Edward with a smile. “It is only because he has gone overseas that she was once again looking for a place.”

“The baronet's loss is our gain,” said Louisa.

“I have been charged with giving you an invitation to my sister's ball,” said Edward as the next course was brought in.

“A ball. That will be delightful,” said Rebecca.

Mr Sidders turned to Joshua. “I hope, you, too will be able to attend. It is to be held next Thursday. A small affair — my sister's house has room enough for only ten couples — but even so the evening promises to be an enjoyable one.”

“I'd be delighted,” Joshua said.

Would Joshua ask her for one of the dances? Rebecca wondered. Not knowing whether she wanted him to or not. To dance with him again would be wonderful, but disturbing as well. She had not forgotten the feelings it had aroused in her when she had danced with him in London. But still, when the ball arrived it would be soon enough to worry about such things.

“And after that we must hold our card party,” said Louisa, as the turbot was served. She turned to Mr Sidders. “Rebecca and I would like to entertain, even though we are only in Manchester for a short time, and a card party seems to be a simple and yet enjoyable way of doing so.”

“Indeed,” said Edward smilingly.

“You and your sisters, of course, are invited.”

“I'm sure they'll be only too happy to accept.”

“And you will come, Joshua?” she asked him. “Do say you will. You must not work too hard, you know. You must have some entertainment as well.”

“I would not dream of missing it,” said Joshua with a wry smile.

“Good,” said Louisa, her face expressing her delight. She turned to Edward, “Now, tell me, where should we go to have our invitations printed?”

A satisfying conversation followed, with the merits of various stationers, caterers and other necessary tradesmen being discussed, so that by the time dinner was over much of the planning for the card party had already taken place.

“Come, Rebecca,” said Louisa, standing up. “It is time for us to retire to the drawing-room and leave the gentlemen to their port.”

Rebecca stood up and followed Louisa from the room.

The gentlemen were not long in following, and as Edward joined Louisa on the sofa, Joshua joined Rebecca at the pianoforte, where she was playing a country air.

“You play well,” he said.

“I'm lucky to have an instrument here,” she replied as her fingers ran over the keys. “It came with the house. It gives me a chance to practise.”

She finished the piece, but when she made a move to rise from the stool, Joshua said, “No. Don't stop. Here.”

He opened another piece of music and spread it out on the music stand. “We need to talk, Rebecca, and I would rather we weren't overheard. I don't want to worry Louisa, but you were right earlier when you said I don't think the fire at the mill was the work of Luddites. I don't. And until I know who was responsible I would rather you had some protection. It would be too easy for someone to force their way in here if they had evil intentions, and I want you to have some ex-Bow Street Runners in the house. I know just the men. They're not the best detectives the Runners ever had, but they're handy with their fists. If it comes to it, they'll know how to protect you.”