One Snowy Night (20 page)

‘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 with a smile.

‘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. ‘There are things we need to discuss, 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 if it comes to it, they’ll be able to protect you.’

‘I?’ asked
Rebecca in surprise. ‘But I am not in any danger.’

He did not
reply, and she said, a little less certainly, ‘Am I?’

Joshua’s face
was unreadable. ‘Let’s just say, I’d rather not take any chances.’

Rebecca was
thoughtful. She did not believe that she was in danger, but she believed that
Joshua might be. She decided to share her fears with him.

‘I don’t think
I am the one the attack was aimed at,’ she said cautiously. ‘After all, I am
not the one who has been the victim of a number of suspicious accidents. You
were almost run down by a horseman in
London
, and you were almost struck a forceful blow by a stone
coming through the window at Hetty and Charles’s house. And now you have been
locked in a room that was on fire.’ She hesitated. ‘I think the fire may have
been started in order to try and kill you.’ She tried to keep her voice even,
but her hands shook and the music came out with an unexpected
tremolo
.

He looked at
her thoughtfully, as if wondering whether agreeing with her would make her worry
more. Then, as if deciding that she was too intelligent to be fobbed off with
easy reassurances he said, ‘It’s possible.’

‘But why?’ she
asked. ‘There must be some reason for it. And as you don’t have any enemies, it
must be someone who has something to gain.’ Realization dawned on her. ‘Your
share. Your share of the mill.’ She turned towards him. ‘Who inherits it,
Joshua? Who does it go to in the event of . . . ’ She could not bring herself
to finish the sentence, and say,
in the event of your death
.

‘No. That is
not the answer,’ said Joshua, shaking his head.

‘I think you
are wrong,’ said Rebecca resolutely. ‘Whoever it is would stand to gain a great
deal by your death.’

‘I don’t think
I have anything to fear in that direction,’ he said with a wry smile.

The smile took
her by surprise. She could see nothing amusing about the situation, and she was
determined to make him take the matter seriously.

‘Who is it,
Josh? Who inherits your share of the mill? Only tell me that and I will tell
you the name of the person who is trying to kill you.’

‘I don’t think
so,’ said Joshua. ‘You see, Rebecca, it is you.’

‘Me?’ Her eyes
flew wide in astonishment.

‘Yes.’

‘You have left
me your half of the mill?’

‘I didn’t need
to. Your grandfather had already taken care of the matter. If I die without an
heir, my share reverts to you. It is true, you could make yourself a wealthy
woman by murdering me. And you
were
on the scene very quickly when the
office caught fire.’ He spoke thoughtfully, as though seriously considering the
idea, but there was an unmistakable twitch of humour at the corner of his
mouth.

‘And I could
have invented the story of the dropped reticule,’ Rebecca teased him back,
joining in with the spirit of his banter.

‘But somehow,
I don’t believe it.’ He took her hands, as she had finished playing her country
air, and pulled her to her feet so that she stood facing him.

Rebecca’s
heart missed a beat. She so longed for him to kiss her, but she could tell by
his face that he did not mean to do so. And how could he, even if he wanted to,
when Louisa and Edward were so close at hand?

And why should
she even want him to?

It had felt
wonderful when he had kissed her at the mill, that much was true, but she could
not allow him to do so again. It was clear he had no feelings for her beyond a
certain physical attraction, and under those circumstances she should not want
him to touch her again. But to her consternation she realized that she did.

She had
wondered, after he had kissed her at the mill and then been interrupted by
Hill, the manager, whether he would offer her his hand again. But although he
had undoubtedly compromised her, he had not done so. A part of her was
relieved, and yet a part of her felt hollow. Because she realized that never,
under any circumstances, would he ask her to marry him again.

With
difficulty she drew her thoughts back to their conversation. ‘Then if I am the
person who inherits your share if you die, that is not the answer to the
problem,’ she said.

They crossed
the room and sat down by an elegant console table, on which a book of
engravings lay open.

‘But who else
is there?’ she went on. ‘Mr Hill, the manager, seems the most likely candidate,
and yet he seems like such a nice young man. Still, if he has been falsifying
the books . . . ’

‘Yes,’ nodded Joshua.
‘If he has been falsifying the books, he would certainly have a motive. He
would want to remove me before the discrepancies are discovered.’

‘And he was
there, at the mill,’ said Rebecca.

‘He was,’
Joshua agreed. ‘He is also one of the few people who have a key to the office.’

‘A key?’

‘Yes. The door
to my office was locked from the outside. That means whoever did it must either
have taken the key out of the desk in the main office, or used their own key.
And the only person with a key of their own is Hill.’

‘But anyone
could have taken it from the main office?’ asked Rebecca.

‘Anyone who
knew it was there, yes.’

‘And how many
people know that?’

‘Anyone who
has worked in the office, and perhaps, anyone who has visited it, but beyond
that, no one.’

‘Still, it
leaves quite a wide field.’ Rebecca was thoughtful and then said, ‘How did the
fire start?’

‘I’m not sure.’
Joshua shook his head. ‘I smelled smoke and went to investigate. When I did so,
someone shut and locked the door behind me.’

Rebecca shivered
as she thought about what would have happened if she had not, by chance,
returned to the mill. ‘I don’t like it, Josh. I think you need to hire some
Runners yourself.’

She turned
over a page of engravings, although she was not paying them any attention.

‘I intend to,’
he said. ‘The scrawlings on the mill wall will give me the perfect excuse to
hire some watchmen at the mill.’

‘And when you
are elsewhere?’

‘I will hire a
few new "footmen", and a "coachman" who are used to
dangerous situations. It will not be difficult to take some precautions, with
no one else being any the wiser.’

Rebecca
nodded. She was still worried, but knew that little more could be done.

Feeling that
Louisa and Edward would soon begin to notice if she and Joshua did not join
them at their side of the room, she closed the book of engravings.

‘Edward and I
have just been discussing the arrangement of the card tables,’ said Louisa,
whose mind was full of the proposed card party, and who had therefore not
noticed that Rebecca and Joshua had been deep in conversation.

Rebecca sat
down beside her on the sofa and gave her her attention.

‘We will have
them in here, I think,’ said Louisa. ‘These houses are not so spacious that we
have much choice.’

‘Yes, I think
they would go well in here,’ said Rebecca, gauging the size of the room. ‘We
could easily fit eight tables in if we arranged the other furniture a little
differently.’

‘Just what I
was thinking. Eight tables,’ agreed Louisa. ‘That should be plenty.’

‘Emily can let
you have the card tables, I’m sure,’ said Edward. ‘She keeps hers in the attics
and only brings them down when they are needed.’

‘That would
make things a lot easier,’ said Louisa, thanking him.

The rest of
the evening passed pleasantly in conversation, and it was a comfort to Rebecca
to know that, however concerned she herself may be about Joshua, Louisa, at
least, had been spared any worry.

‘What will you wear to the
ball?’ Louisa asked Rebecca the following morning.

‘I haven’t
decided yet,’ said Rebecca, as the two ladies sat at their embroidery.

‘I am thinking
of having a new ball gown made,’ said Louisa diffidently.

Rebecca put
down her embroidery. ‘What a splendid idea.’

‘Do you think
so?’ Louisa asked, going slightly pink.

‘I do. I can’t
remember the last time you had a new ball gown.’

‘Do you know,
my dear, neither can I.’

A new thought
entered Rebecca’s head at the sight of Louisa’s pink cheeks. Could it be that
Louisa, having renewed her friendship with Edward, was hoping their friendship
would develop into something more? Rebecca smiled. She hoped so. She would like
nothing better than to see Louisa married to a kindly and intelligent
gentleman, and Edward seemed perfect in every way.

‘I think you should
arrange your hair in a new style, too,’ Rebecca said. ‘I saw many attractive
new ways of dressing hair in London, and any one of them would add a touch of
distinction to your new outfit.’

‘Well, I don’t
know, dear,’ said Louisa, sounding worried. ‘Do you think I should? I have worn
my hair like this for so long that I don’t know if I would be comfortable
having a change.’

‘Nothing too
drastic,’ said Rebecca. ‘But if your chignon was a little higher at the back of
your head, and if you would let me tease out a few curls around your face, I
believe the result would be most becoming.’

‘Well, my
dear, if you think so, ‘said Louisa, going pink again. ‘Perhaps it is time I
had a change.’

Rebecca went
over to her cousin and gently unpinned her hair, then scooped the thick tresses
up into a soft chignon, set higher than Louisa was accustomed to wear it. The
new height drew attention away from Louisa’s rather slack jaw line and focused
it on her cheekbones, which were remarkably fine. Deftly, Rebecca pinned the
new chignon and then teased out a few curls. The overall effect was softer,
more feminine, and undeniably attractive.

‘Oh, my!’
exclaimed Louisa, as she looked at herself in a gilded looking glass.

‘Do you know,
I think you should consult a
friseur
,’ said Rebecca, pinning Louisa’s
hair to hold it in place. ‘Your hair is a little long at the front to tease out
into satisfactory curls, and
—’

‘Oh, no, I don’t
think I could do that,’ said Louisa, who found the idea of too much change at
once alarming.
‘

‘A pity,’ said
Rebecca coaxingly. ‘I confess I would like to consult one myself, but it seems
too extravagant a thing to do just for me.’

‘Oh, but you
must!’ exclaimed Louisa.

‘Then it is
settled,’ said Rebecca, well satisfied with her ruse. ‘We will discover the
name of the most fashionable
friseur
in
Manchester
and go and see him together.’