“How else was I going to catch him?” she demanded. At least now we have something to go on. As soon as we’ve questioned him —”

“There'll be no "we" about it.”

“You seem to forget that I'm involved in this just as much as you are,” she returned.

“No. I don't forget. But if you think I'm going to let you anywhere near a man like that you're mistaken,” he said savagely.

“It isn't up to you to tell me what to do,” she returned.

He glared at her. Then said, apparently reasonably, “You're right. It isn't.” His reasonableness suddenly vanished. “But I'm going to do it anyway.”

*  *  *

Rebecca gave a sigh. It was no use arguing with him. He could be extremely stubborn when he chose, and she could see by his face that he chose to be stubborn now. But she had to admit, if only to herself, that she was actually relieved. Although she had spoken bravely she had done so without really thinking. She did not relish the idea of seeing any more of Dunn than she had to.

“Very well.”

He smiled. It lit his face, softening his mouth and warming his eyes. “Thank you,” he said.

His voice was gentle.

“For what?” She was surprised.

“For letting me have my own way.”

She smiled, too. “As long as you don't have it too often, I can't see that it will do you any harm!” she teased him.

He laughed. “And now that we have sorted that out, let me offer you some refreshments,” he said. “You're right, I should have done so straight away. You must be cold and tired.”

“I am,” she admitted. But then she said reluctantly, “However, I can't stay. I have already been longer than I intended to be, and I don't want Louisa to worry. I only went out to buy her a fan,” she explained. “I should have been back by now.” She looked suddenly concerned as she realized that her carriage, once the road had been unblocked, would have had to go on without her. “Oh, dear,” she sighed. “I've no way of knowing where my carriage is.”

“Don't worry. I sent Odgers to find it.”

“But —”

“Dunn is being safely held in the kitchen by a couple of Odgers's colleagues — men who, incidentally, will not let Odgers forget that he lost his charge,” laughed Joshua.

“It wasn't his fault —” began Rebecca.

“Yes, it was. He was employed to look after you and he failed. But if you want to make his life easier in future, don't go jumping out of any more carriages,” he said with a wry smile.

“He try not to,” she returned with a lift at the corner of her mouth. Then she became more serious. “You will let me know, Joshua? What you find out?”

“Of course. You're going to the ball tonight?”

“Yes. Louisa and I will both be there.”

“Meet me in the library at twelve o'clock. The ball should be in full swing by then and no one will notice if we absent ourselves for a while. Then I can tell you what I have discovered.”

“What do you think? Now?”

Joshua ran his hand through his mane of hair. “I think Dunn will be able to tell us very little. He was probably paid to paint a Luddite slogan on the wall of the mill, but I will be surprised if he can tell us who paid him. He was most probably approached in a tavern and offered money to do it, no questions asked.”

Rebecca nodded. It seemed only too likely.

“But I’ll have him followed — when I let him go,” said Joshua.

“You're not going to hand him over to the authorities, then?” asked Rebecca in surprise.

“No. If we press charges against him for attacking you then you will be dragged into it, and that isn't something I'm prepared to allow. And if we charge him with defacing property, again you are the witness, and again you would be dragged in — and again, that isn't something I'm going to allow. Besides, he may be much more use to us if we turn him loose. There's just a chance that whoever has been paying him may decide to use him again.”

“So that if we have him watched, we can see where he goes and what he does?” asked Rebecca.

Joshua nodded. “Exactly.”

It makes sense. A part of her did not want the man to get away with his crimes, but another part of her realized that what Joshua said was true: Dunn was probably more use to them if they set him free.

A carriage rattled to a halt outside. Glancing out of the window Rebecca saw that it was hers.

“Until this evening, then,” she said, taking her leave of Joshua.

“Until this evening. Once I join you at the ball I will tell you everything I learn.”

*  *  *

“Oh! There you are! I was just beginning to worry,” said Louisa, as Rebecca returned to the house.

“I'm sorry I was so long,” said Rebecca.

“Never mind, my dear. You are here now.”

Rebecca smiled at the look of suppressed anticipation on Louisa's face. Too sweet to ask if Rebecca had managed to find her a fan in case she should seem demanding, Louisa was clearly wondering if Rebecca's shopping trip had been a success.

Rebecca opened her reticule and took out a small package, which she gave to Louisa.

Louisa took it and opened it to reveal the lace and ivory fan. Her face lit up. “Oh! Rebecca! It's beautiful! So delicate! And so stylish!” She opened the fan with a flick of her wrist and delightedly wafted it to and fro.

“It will look lovely against the orange tawney of your gown,” said Rebecca. “The lace is so delicate the tawny shade will shine through.”

“Yes, it will. Oh, thank you, my dear. It's perfect. Truly perfect.” Louisa fluttered her fan once more, until the chiming of the clock called her back to the present. “But I must not keep you. You will be wanting to go up and dress. Susan has filled the hip bath for you, and laid out your gown. I, too, must get changed.”

Louisa hurried upstairs.

More slowly, Rebecca followed. She was glad to be able to retire to her room after her exciting afternoon.

The bedroom was welcoming. The heavy damask drapes had been drawn across the windows. A warming fire was burning in the grate, and the candles were shedding pools of light into every corner of the room.

Rebecca glanced towards the mantelpiece where an ormolu clock stood. She wanted to see if she had enough time to read a little more of her book in the bath, before she had to get dressed.

Yes, she had.

She took her book into the small dressing-room that led off from her bedroom, where Susan had filled her hip bath, and undressing she slipped into the rose-scented water. She breathed a sigh of relief. It had been an eventful few hours, and she was looking forward to some peace and quiet before she dressed to go out again.

She sank back into the water and luxuriated in the soothing warmth. Then, feeling pleasantly relaxed, she dried her hands on the towel she had draped over the edge of the bath and picked up The Italian, which she had left within reach. She indulged in a portion of the entertaining novel before washing herself and then stepping out of the hip bath, where she dried herself in front of the fire. Then she began to dress.

She had bought some lovely underclothes in the fashionable shops in Manchester and, with Susan's help, she proceeded to put them on: a cotton chemise and new-fangled drawers; silk stockings, fashionably embroidered at the ankles and held up by lace garters; and a light pair of stays.

Susan fastened her stays to a comfortable tightness, then it was time to put on her gown.

“How is Miss Louisa getting on?” asked Rebecca.

“She's finished dressing,” said Susan, who had gone to help Betsy with Louisa whilst Rebecca took her bath. “She looks lovely,” said the young girl.

Rebecca was glad. She herself might be unlucky in love, but she hoped with all her heart that the same would not be true for her cousin.

She turned her attention to her new ball gown, which Susan was lifting off the bed. It was truly exquisite. Madame Dupont had excelled herself. And how kind it had been of her to make the gown, together with Louisa's gown, a priority, otherwise it would not have been ready in time. Although perhaps it had more to do with the fact that Madame Dupont had wanted to accommodate Mrs Camberwell, a good client, rather than kindness, Rebecca realized with a smile.

At that moment Betsy entered the room.

“Miss Louisa's compliments, and do you need any more help?” asked Betsy.

“No, thank you, Betsy,” said Rebecca.

Betsy eyed her dubiously. “I don't know about these short sleeves,” she said, with the freedom of an old retainer. “Pretty they may be, and fashionable as well, but a good pair of long sleeves would have been more sensible in the winter time, Miss Rebecca.”

“Perhaps,” remarked Rebecca. “But long sleeves are too hot for dancing in.”

“You just make sure you take your shawl,” said Betsy. “It won't do to go catching a cold. You'll miss all the coming parties and dinners, and you wouldn't want that.”

Rebecca's mouth quirked, but she dutifully promised to wear her shawl, and Betsy was mollified.

“There,” said Susan, standing back once the dress was fastened.

The gown was truly lovely. The gold silk glimmered in the candlelight and the short sleeves, trimmed with a row of the most delicate gold tassels, were exquisite. The high waist lent Rebecca height, and the demi-train added an air of elegance and style.

“I hope I can remember how the friseur said to do your hair,” said Susan somewhat nervously.

“I'm sure you will,” said Rebecca as Betsy departed.

She sat in front of her dressing-table and Susan proceeded to arrange her hair. Monsieur Toulouse had cut and shaped it, so that the maid had no difficulty in styling it.