One Snowy Night (25 page)

‘Who will
believe a story like that?’ asked Joshua in disgust.

‘Everyone. I’m
a well-respected member of the community. If I see a rough-looking man with a
curious loping gait leaving through the window, and if it comes to light - as
it will - that your mill has recently been targeted by Luddites, then the
authorities will know who to blame. They will mount a search, and unless I’m
very much mistaken they will not find it difficult to discover the man, and to
find that he is in possession of a tin of red paint.’

‘You’ve
thought it all out!’

‘Of course I
have. You don’t think I’d leave anything to chance in a matter as important as
this? The man will duly be arrested. I will testify that he is the person I saw
leaving through the window - and the lovely Miss Foster will of course testify
to the fact that he was the man who attacked her on the streets.’

Rebecca felt
her anger rise as she realized the part she was expected to play in all this,
the part of unwitting dupe.

Joshua’s face
darkened at the mention of her name. ‘I suggest you leave Miss Foster out of
this,’ he said.

‘You’re not in
a position to suggest anything,’ said Mr Willingham, but he took a step backwards
all the same. He raised the gun intimidatingly.

Rebecca’s
heart missed a beat. For all Joshua’s high-handed ways, she could not bear to
see him in danger. But even as she thought it she noted the fact that Mr
Willingham’s step backwards had brought him closer to the curtains. Her mind worked
quickly and she realized that if Mr Willingham would only take one more step
backwards he would be within her reach.

But what could
she do against him, even if she could reach him? And without putting Joshua at risk?

‘Why,
Willingham?’ demanded Joshua. ‘It doesn’t make sense. Why did you hire someone
to paint a Luddite slogan on the mill wall? Why did you pay someone to start a
fire, and to attack Miss Foster? What can you possibly hope to gain?’

That’s
right, Joshua, keep him talking
, thought Rebecca, casting round for some way of
helping him that would not get him killed. If she tried something and failed
then the gun would go off and Joshua would be finished.

She thought of
hitting him over the head with her book, but it was too slim to do him any
harm.

‘If you shoot
me, it won’t benefit you in any way,’ Joshua was saying. ‘It won’t get you
cheaper cotton to use in your weaving mill. So what is the point?’

‘Cheaper
cotton?’ mocked Mr Willingham. ‘Are you really so short-sighted? Do you still
not see? I don’t want cheaper cotton, I want your mill. With your cotton mill
and my weaving and dyeing mill, I will have control of the whole production
process. That means a drop in costs, and a huge rise in profits.’

‘But killing
me won’t get you that,’ said Joshua. ‘My share of the mill doesn’t go to you if
I die.’

Mr Willingham
smirked. ‘I know. It goes to the lovely Rebecca.’

Rebecca had to
bite back an angry exclamation.

‘How in Hades
do you know that?’ asked Joshua, taking a step forward.

‘I know which
firm of
London
lawyers Jebadiah Marsden
used. It wasn’t difficult to bribe one of the clerks to tell me the terms of
his will,’ said Mr Willingham, taking a step back.

Rebecca
recalled the unctuous clerk who had let them into Mr Wesley’s office. She had
thought there was something shifty about him, and she was in no doubt that he
was the clerk who had been bribed.

‘And he, I
suppose, was responsible for the attacks on me in
London
.’

Mr Willingham
shook his head. ‘He would not have been capable of it - sneaking is his forte,
not daring action - but it was another low-life in my pay.’

‘Another
mystery explained,’ said Joshua. ‘Even so . . . even though my share goes to
Rebecca, I don’t see how . . .
’
And then his face changed. ‘You mean to marry her. Once you kill me, my
share will go to her, and once you marry her it will pass to you, as part of
her dowry. Giving you control of the mill. But you’re mad if you think she’ll
do it. Rebecca will never marry you.’

Rebecca’s
heart soared as she heard the words. There was something in Joshua’s expression
that suggested he felt much more than the scorn he might have been expected to
feel at Mr Willingham’s belief she would marry him. There was a look of
contempt that told her he respected her, as well as a flash of jealousy that
made her wonder, against her better judgement, if his feelings for her had
changed over the last few weeks, becoming deeper and more complex; in fact, if
they matched her feelings for him.

Mr Willingham
spoke dryly. ‘Rebecca won’t get a choice. You can’t seriously believe I intend
to let her decide for herself? I shall propose, of course, next week, after she
has dinner with my mother and myself
—’

‘She won’t
accept you.’

‘No. I don’t
suppose she will. Which is why I intend to have a special licence in my pocket
and a clergyman standing by. She will marry me before she leaves the house, or
she will not leave it at all.’

Rebecca, seeing
at last how she could help, seized one of the jugs that decorated the embrasure
and leapt to her feet. Standing on the window seat she pulled back the curtain.
The noise distracted Mr Willingham, who looked round, and Joshua, seeing his
chance, lost only a fraction of a second in surprise before hurling himself at
Mr Willingham. Mr Willingham, turning his attention back to Joshua, lifted the
gun - and Rebecca brought the jug crashing down on his head. He stood for one
moment, and Rebecca thought her efforts had been wasted - but then he swayed
and fell, crumpling up in a heap on the floor.

Joshua caught
the gun as it dropped out of his hand and checked that Mr Willingham, now lying
prone, was really out cold, and then turned to Rebecca, who was still standing
on the window-seat.

The strain of
the last ten minutes, coupled with her cramped conditions - which had left her
with pins and needles in her legs, so that they could barely hold her - made
her begin to sway. Joshua held out his arms, and as she lost her balance he
caught her in his strong embrace.

‘Becky,’ he
said, with such a look in his eyes that she felt herself melting.

‘Josh,’ she
said breathlessly, feeling the heat of his body against her own.

He looked into
her eyes for a long moment. Then, as if remembering she had been through
something of an ordeal, he carried her over to one of the chairs and set her
down gently in it before kneeling in front of her.

‘Your hands
are cold,’ he said. He began to chafe them.

‘It was cold
in the window embrasure,’ she said. ‘And I forgot my shawl. It’s still in the
ballroom.’

He moved her chair
closer to the fire.

‘But what were
you doing behind the curtains in the first place?’ he asked as he continued to
chafe her hands.

Briefly, she
explained why she had taken refuge there.

‘It’s a good
thing you did. Otherwise I may well be
—’

‘Don’t, Josh,’
she said with a shudder, putting a finger to his lips. ‘Don’t even say it.’

He took her
hand and kissed her fingers, then, turning it over, he kissed the palm and the
inside of her wrist.

Could his
feelings have changed? she wondered again as the most intoxicating shiver
washed over her. Could they have developed into something as deep and sincere as
her own? For she was no longer in any doubt as to the nature of her own
feelings for Joshua. She was in love with him.

Oh, yes, she
was in love with him, and no matter how hard she had tried to deny it, she knew
that she had been so for a long time.

To begin with,
she had felt no more for him than physical attraction, but her feelings had
soon begun to undergo a transformation. When she had been caught in the path of
the charging horse in
London
and he had pushed her to safety she had been filled with a
sense of security that had warmed her through. His tenderness towards her
following the incident had surprised her, revealing that there was a gentler
side to his nature than the one he generally showed the world. His concern for
her reputation had earned her esteem, and his obvious devotion to her beloved
grandfather had earned her affection and her gratitude. His drive and ambition
had struck a chord in her own nature - she was not Jebadiah’s granddaughter for
nothing! - and his ruthlessness, once she had realized it did not spill over
into cruelty, had roused her respect; for she knew it would be impossible to
succeed in his chosen sphere of business without it.

And yet all
these feelings, whilst explaining some of what she felt for him, did not
explain it all, for she felt something she had never felt for any man before:
that she wanted to join herself to him - in every way.

She felt a
warm tingling sensation spread through her as the realization hit her with full
force.

How strange.
She had never thought, when she had first met him at
The Queen’s Head
,
that she would fall in love with him, but despite the fact he was stubborn and
determined – or perhaps because of it - she had done so.

And yet, did
Joshua love her? Or was he still resolute in his determination never to offer
her his hand again?

‘Rebecca,’ he
said, stroking his fingers over her palms in the most delicious way, ‘I asked
you once before,’ he said, his eyes glowing in the mixed fire-and-candlelight —

A low groan
interrupted him.

He cursed
under his breath.

Dropping her
hand he turned in the direction of the noise.

Rebecca, too,
turned her head, and saw that Mr Willingham was starting to stir. He had been
knocked out when she had crashed the jug down on his head but that was all. And
now he was coming round.

Rising from
his knees, Joshua crossed the room to Mr Willingham. Untying his cravat he
quickly bound Willingham’s hands and feet, roping them together with the
voluminous material so that Mr Willingham was held fast.

‘Odgers is in
the ballroom,’ he said to Rebecca.

‘Odgers?’ she
asked in surprise.

Joshua gave a
wide smile. ‘He is dressed in some of my old clothes, and though he’s
undoubtedly an ugly customer he is just about able to pass for a guest!’

Rebecca felt
her own mouth twitch. The sight of Odgers as a guest at the ball must be a
sight indeed.

‘Bring him
here, whilst I keep an eye on Willingham,’ said Joshua. ‘He can help me take
him out to the carriage.’

‘It will cause
a stir,’ said Rebecca with a frown. ‘Can you not think of another way of
getting him out of the house, without embarrassing Mrs Renwick in her own home?’

‘There won’t
be any embarrassment,’ Joshua reassured her. ‘Once Odgers joins me I’ll unbind
Willingham and together we can help him out to the carriage - he’s still groggy
and is not likely to offer any resistance. If anyone sees us they will simply
assume we are helping our friend, who has taken too much to drink.’

Rebecca nodded.
He was right. Young men being carried out to their carriages befuddled with
wine was such a normal sight that no one would worry about it. ‘I’ll fetch
Odgers at once.’

She slipped
out of the room and into the ballroom. There was no sign of Odgers. But a
glance into the supper room showed him helping himself to a large plate of
oyster patties and a couple of veal and ham pies.

Going
unobtrusively over to his side, Rebecca said, ‘You are wanted in the library.’

Without
turning a hair Odgers put down his plate and made a discreet exit.

Rebecca was
just about to follow him when she was joined by Louisa.

‘There you
are, my dear. I thought I had lost you! It is such a crush I thought I would
never find you again. And I did so want to see you. I have some wonderful news!’

Rebecca’s
sprits sank. Fond as she was of her cousin she did not want to be distracted,
particularly not now. But she had no choice. She could not ignore Louisa, and
so instead she made an effort to concentrate on what her cousin was saying.

‘Would you
believe it?’ said Louisa, hands clasped and eyes shining. ‘Edward has just
asked me to marry him.’

‘Oh, Louisa,
that’s wonderful!’ said Rebecca. She was genuinely happy for her cousin, and
her enthusiasm was real.

‘I can hardly
believe it,’ said Louisa. ‘It has all been so sudden. But it is wonderful
nonetheless.’

‘Have you told
Emily yet?’

‘No. I am
leaving it to Edward to break the news - although he says she already suspects.
Oh! It has all been so exciting! But do you know, my dear, I feel ever so
tired, and I believe I have a headache coming on. Would you mind if I called
for the carriage? I think I am in need of a long lie down.’