Was it the contrast between his hard surface and his inner warmth that attracted her? she wondered. For she could no longer hide from herself the fact that she was attracted to him. Whenever he was near her she found her thoughts wandering down new and unsettling paths, and try as she might she could not stop them.

She sighed, and wandered over to the window. She would give herself a few minutes in the morning-room to cool down and then return to the ballroom. Looking round she tried to find something to distract her thoughts. Ah! A collection of miniatures. They hung next to the window, on the gold-painted wall. She moved closer to study them. They were exquisitely executed, and she was just marvelling over the detail in them when the door opened. She turned round... and saw George Lacy enter the room.

“Mr Lacy!” she exclaimed. She was not pleased to see him. Of all the guests at the ball, he was the one she least wanted to see. Especially now, when she had been hoping for a few minutes peace.

“Miss Fossington,” he replied.

He did not seem surprised to see her and his attitude, as though he had expected to find her there, made her feel on edge. She examined him warily. Of middle height, he appeared to be about forty years of age. He was well dressed, his striped yellow waistcoat contrasting with his blue tailcoat and his white linen, but even so, there was a sharp look in his eye.

“I was just about to return to the ballroom,” she said. Her aunt's warnings were clear in her mind, and she was determined to leave the room at once. But as she passed him on the way to the door he suddenly lunged at her. His arms wrapped themselves round her like steel wires and she smelt the rancidness of his breath as he tried to fasten his mouth on hers. His action was as shocking as it was unexpected, and in horror Rebecca pushed him away.

“Come now, no need to play the innocent,” he said insinuatingly. He approached her again. “Just a little kiss, that's all I ask.”

To her annoyance, Rebecca found that she was shaking. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” she demanded, rapidly regaining control of herself. She drew herself up and said, with as much authority as she could muster, “Let me pass.”

“Quite the little actress, aren't we?” he sneered. “But I know what you really are. That virtuous pose won't wash with me.”

He lunged at her again, and this time he managed to clamp his lips to her own. She shut her mouth firmly and stamped down hard on his foot.

He let out a cry of rage. It had the fortunate effect of making his mouth leave hers, but then he lunged for her again. She backed away. She fumbled behind her in an effort to grasp one of the candlesticks that stood on the mantelpiece. It would make an effective weapon. But just as her fingers closed around it the door opened and Joshua was revealed in the doorway.

It took Joshua only a second to take in what was happening and then he was across the room and lifting Lacy bodily away from Rebecca, before turning and depositing him none too gently on the ground again. Joshua's bulk was now between Lacy and Rebecca, protecting her from any further attack.

“You're a damned cur, Lacy,” he snarled. “I suggest you apologize to the lady at once.”

He stepped aside so that Lacy could do so, watching him all the time to make sure that he did not try to attack Rebecca again. But instead of complying, Lacy only flicked the lace at his wrists and straightened his cravat. Then he jeered, “Lady? Oh, no, Kelling, I don't think so.”

He looked from Joshua to Rebecca and back again. He was beginning to regain his confidence now that Joshua had let him go, and he continued more boldly. “I knew I'd seen her somewhere before but I couldn't think where. And then it came back to me. When I saw her dancing with you, I realized I'd seen the two of you together, and then I remembered where it was. It was at The Nag's Head.”

Rebecca felt her spirits sink.

“Looking a bit smarter than the last time I saw you, aren't you?” sneered Lacy, warming to his theme. “You were wearing nothing but breeches then, if I remember correctly. Not the sort of sight for a "lady", eh? Kelling? And Rebecca... She was more chastely dressed, I admit, but I don't suppose that state of affairs existed for very long, did it? Not after I heard you asking her to share your bed. A pity I didn't get to see the finale; that would have been something! I only got to see the opening act. Still, it was enough.” He rubbed his bruised arm. “You wanted to conduct your little affair in secret, didn't you? You thought you could go out to The Nag's Head and have the "lady" in your room with no one being the wiser. But you were wrong. Because I was there, Kelling, and I saw the two of you together. And what's more, before this evening's over, everyone else will know it too.”

Rebecca felt her stomach churn. Lacy had seen them together at The Nag's Head, when she was arguing with Joshua over the room. The door, she remembered, had been open, because she had not wanted to close it, for to do so would have been to shut herself in with a stranger. It was the worst thing that could possibly have happened. Although the encounter had been innocent, no one would believe it. Indeed, Lacy himself did not believe it. Having seen her talking to Joshua whilst Joshua had been in a state of partial undress, and having heard Joshua invite her to share his bed, he had drawn his own conclusions. And now he meant to noise them abroad.

Her spirits sank still further as she realized that her reputation was ruined.

But she had reckoned without Joshua's strength of character.

“I don't think so.” His voice was like steel.

“Oh, don't you?” jeered Lacy. “Well, perhaps if your mistress had been more accommodating, and perhaps if you hadn't manhandled me, then I might have been persuaded to keep what I know to myself. But as it is...”

His voice tailed away. He had started his speech full of confidence, but at the word "mistress" the atmosphere had changed, and a deadly silence now filled the room.

Lacy glanced nervously at Joshua and backed away.

There was a moment of tense silence. “Then, tell me, Lacy,” said Joshua. “How are you with a pistol?” He spoke conversationally, but the air suddenly felt as tight as a drum, as though one wrong word or gesture would rupture it.

Lacy felt it. He fingered his collar nervously, as though he was finding it difficult to breath. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that if you blacken Miss Fossington's name in any way, you will find yourself needing one,” said Joshua levelly.

Lacy gave a bark of laughter, but it was forced. “You wouldn't fight a duel over her,” he said with bravado. “She's not your wife. She's nothing but your strumpet. Besides, duels aren't for your kind.” He sneered again. “You're in trade, Kelling. You're not even a gentleman.”

“I count four,” said Joshua calmly.

Lacy looked at him suspiciously.

“Four reasons for calling you out,” Joshua elaborated. “One, your attack on Miss Fossington; two, your threat to spread gossip about the lady and myself; three, your slur on the lady's character; and four, your slur on my right to call myself a gentleman.”

Lacy licked his lips.

“You are the only person to know of the incident at The Nag's Head,” went on Joshua, his eyes hard. “If I discover that anyone else knows about it, I will know who has been spreading the rumour. And I, Lacy, am a very good shot.”

Lacy looked from one to the other of them, as if trying to decide whether it would be worth his while to resort to some kind of blackmail. But one look at Joshua's implacable features decided him. “Very well,” he said through clenched teeth. “I will keep quiet.”

“A wise choice,” said Joshua evenly. He strode over to the door and held it open.

Lacy, with a last furtive look, slipped out of the room.

With his departure, some of the tension that had filled the room began to dissipate. Rebecca let out sigh of relief. Without realizing it, she had been holding her breath.

Joshua, whose eyes had followed Lacy out of the room, turned to look at her.

As she felt his eyes on her, Rebecca felt suddenly awkward. He was taking in every detail of her: the flush on her cheeks; her rapid breathing; and the rise and fall of her breast.

“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his eyes returning to her own.

“No.” She remembered Lacy's attack on her, and was thankful that Joshua had arrived when he did — although she had given a good account of herself before he had entered the room. In an attempt to lighten the atmosphere, which was still tense, though now in a subtly different way, she gave a weak smile and said, “Though I believe I hurt him. I stamped on his foot when he tried to kiss me.”

He smiled, too. Then his eyes mellowed, and the hard line of his mouth softened. “I hope you would not stamp on my foot if—” he began; before cutting himself off.

There was a heart-stopping moment and everything was suddenly very still. Rebecca could hear the coals shifting in the hearth. As if some unseen force was compelling her to do so, she turned her eyes up to his. “If—?” she whispered. Her voice trembled, but the rest of her was rigid. It was as though she was waiting for something. But what?

“If...” said Josh, his voice suddenly husky.

He was looking incredibly desirable. Standing there before her in the candlelight, with the flames painting gold highlights into his dark blond hair and with copper sparks flashing from his eyes, he was the most devastatingly attractive man Rebecca had ever seen. But it was not just his mane of dark blond hair and his copper eyes that made him so attractive, it was the force of his character; a force which echoed her own. He crossed the space between them and took her hands between his, whilst all the time his eyes never left hers. He stroked his strong fingers over the backs of her hand then turned them over and stroked the palms.