One Snowy Night (8 page)

He owed
everything he was to Jebadiah. And he would not repay the old man by bringing
disgrace to Rebecca.

It was a
nuisance, he thought, running his hand through his mane of hair. He did not
want to marry, no matter how desirable he found Rebecca. And yet it must be
done. He knew where his duty lay.

What was that
Hetty had said earlier in the evening? That she intended to take Rebecca to
visit Frost Fair tomorrow? Very well. He would meet Rebecca there, and tell her
of his plan. He and Rebecca would become betrothed. And at the earliest
opportunity they would be married.

‘Frost Fair?’ asked
Rebecca.

It was the
following day, and she and Hetty were sitting in the drawing-room, looking
through the latest edition of the
Ladies’ Monthly Museum
. It was one of
Hetty’s favourite fashion journals, and the two ladies were perusing the latest
styles when Hetty mentioned the fair.

‘What is Frost
Fair?’ Rebecca looked up from the journal. She had never heard any mention of
it before, and was curious as to what it could be.

‘It really is
quite exciting,’ said Hetty. ‘I was talking to Mrs Minshull last night and she
told me all about it. She and her husband have been, it seems, and they found
it most exhilarating. Frost Fair is a fair set up on the
Thames
,’ she explained, ‘The
weather has been so cold this winter that the river has frozen over.’

Rebecca looked
at her in surprise.

‘It is quite
true, I assure you,’ said Hetty. ‘I haven’t taken leave of my senses! But it is
not to be wondered at that you are surprised. I was surprised myself. I do not
remember the
Thames
ever freezing before -
although I believe my mother told me about something similar happening in her
childhood,’ she said with a frown, as she struggled to recall the memory. ‘Yes,’
she said more definitely, ‘I believe she did. Not that I ever saw it then, of
course. But I would like to see it now. It is truly amazing, or so Mrs Minshull
says. And it is not only the river that is amazing, it is what has been done to
it. The shopkeepers and hawkers have lost no time in transforming it into a
street -
Freezewater
Street
,
they call it. They’ve set up stalls and booths, and are busy selling their
wares. But that is not all. There are jugglers and acrobats to entertain
people, and all manner of open-air coffee shops —’

‘Coffee shops?’
interrupted Rebecca, growing more and more surprised.

‘Yes. People
have to have something hot inside them to keep out the cold,’ Hetty explained.

‘But surely
the ice isn’t strong enough to hold tables and chairs, as well as stalls and
booths and people?’ asked Rebecca.

‘It appears to
be. Apparently, it is solid. And not only tables and chairs have been set out
on it, but braziers, too. There are all manner of meats and pastries for sale,
and roasted chestnuts. In fact, the chestnuts are particularly good, if Mrs
Minshull is to be believed.’

‘Mrs Minshull
is fond of chestnuts?’ asked Rebecca humorously, remembering that lady’s
impressive girth.

Hetty’s eyes
twinkled. ‘She is. But it is not just the stalls of food that sound so interesting,
it is the host of things to do. There are skates to hire, and all kinds of
other entertainments. I thought, if you liked, we could go.’

‘I wouldn’t
miss it for the world,’ said Rebecca, caught by Hetty’s enthusiasm.

‘Then it is
settled. We will go this afternoon.’

After luncheon, wrapped up
well against the cold, Rebecca, Hetty and Charles set out to visit Frost Fair.
A few soft white snowflakes drifted out of the sky as they stepped into the
carriage, but otherwise the day was fine. Once they were settled the carriage
set off at a sedate pace. The roads were very slippery, and Charles had given
his coachman instructions to take matters carefully, as he did not want to risk
any injury to the horses.

London
looked very different
under its thick coating of snow and Rebecca barely recognised the streets. They
looked strange compared to the last time she had seen them, in the summer. But
it was the river that was the most startling sight. It had been completely
transformed.

‘It’s
breathtaking,’ gasped Rebecca as she stepped out of the carriage once they
reached the
Thames
. She marvelled at the
change the bitterly cold weather had brought about. The river, which usually
flowed merrily past, was now frozen solid. Up and down its length, boats and
ships could be seen, caught fast like flies in amber, trapped until the thaw.

‘It is indeed,’
came a voice behind her.

Turning round
she saw Joshua.

She had not
been prepared for his presence, as she had not known he intended to visit the
fair. As he took her hand her heart missed a beat and her wayward imagination
returned to their encounter in the morning-room at Lady Cranston’s ball.

With
difficulty she schooled her thoughts, bringing them determinedly back to the
present.

‘Joshua,’ said
Hetty, greeting him warmly. ‘What a nice surprise to find you here. Isn’t it a
marvellous sight?’

‘It is,’ he
said. But instead of taking in his surroundings, his eyes lingered on Rebecca as
he said it.

‘I can’t
believe all these stalls and booths have been set up on the ice,’ said Hetty as
they began to walk across the frozen river, taking in the varied scene. ‘I know
Mrs Minshull told me all about it, but still, seeing it all is very different
to hearing about it. I have never seen anything quite like it.’

Rebecca was
relieved at the normality of Hetty’s conversation. It drew her thoughts back to
the present, and away from the disturbing aura generated by Joshua. It was an
aura of strength and ruthlessness, and something more. There seemed something
particular about it today, and she was pleased she was not alone with him. If she
had been, she would have been even less at ease. She had the unnerving feeling
there was something he wanted to say to her, and although she had no idea what
it could be she guessed, from the way he was looking at her, it was something
that could not be said in front of Hetty and Charles.

Endeavouring
to shake off the feeling, she turned her thoughts away from Joshua and gave her
attention to the scene that met her eyes. Everywhere she looked, people seemed
to be enjoying themselves. Some, like her own party, were people of fashion,
out unusually early in order to savour the novel experience of the Fair. Others
were people from less exalted walks of life: apprentices with their
sweethearts, servants on their half-day holidays, and grubby urchins revelling
in the noise and confusion of the scene.

And then there
were those who were making their living from the Fair: the hawkers and the
piemen who walked confidently across the ice with trays of pies on their heads,
and a string of stray dogs following hopefully behind them! There were stilt
walkers and fire eaters who roused the admiration of the onlookers with their
amazing skills; and pedlars who sold ribbons and ballad sheets from trays hung
round their necks.

The scents
were no less varied. The food on offer filled the air with the smell of pies
and cakes, chestnuts and gingerbread, roast meat and apples.

It was a wonderful
occasion.

‘My dear?’
said Charles, offering Hetty his arm.

Hetty took his
proffered arm with alacrity, and Rebecca realized with a sinking feeling that
she was going to have to take Joshua’s arm.

Sure enough he
offered it to her, an unfathomable gleam in his eye.

Acrobats
tumbled past them as they walked across the ice. Jugglers threw multi-coloured
balls into the air and caught them again, displaying their skill.

Hetty and
Charles stopped to watch the printing presses turning out the latest satirical prints,
making fun of the coldness of the weather. At last they all sat down at an
open-air coffee house and had steaming hot drinks.

Fortified by
the coffee, they risked eating slices of "Lapland Mutton" from a
stall - ‘although it’s no more from
Lapland
than I am!’ laughed Charles - and followed it with steaming
hot rolls.

She would have
been enjoying it, Rebecca thought, if not for Joshua’s unsettling presence. Because,
despite the fact that his nearness should mean no more to her than the nearness
of any other gentleman, it was playing havoc with her insides. It kept throwing
up the memory of the previous evening, when he had taken her into his arms; and
the unsettling realization that, as his mouth had hovered mere inches from
hers, she had wanted to feel his kiss.

Having
refreshed themselves they set off again and soon came upon a stall renting out
skates.

‘Oh,
wonderful!’ exclaimed Hetty. ‘It’s ages since I’ve been skating. Do you skate,
Joshua?’ she asked him.

‘I do.’

‘Then you must
skate with Rebecca,’ said Hetty, ‘for I am not very good at it, and I will need
Charles’s arm to support me.’

‘It will be my
pleasure,’ said Joshua with a purposeful look in his eye.

Before long,
Rebecca had fastened on a pair of skates and was heading out to the centre of the
ice on Josh’s arm. He skated well, with long, powerful strokes. Once in a clear
space he drew her towards him in one smooth gesture and put his arm around her
waist. Then, taking her hand he set about guiding her across the ice.

The ice was as
smooth and as slippery as glass. The sweeping boys had done their jobs well,
plying their birch brooms to keep it free of slush and debris, and brushing it
clean of the churned-up ice the skates left in their wakes.

‘Rebecca,’ he
said, once they were away from Hetty and Charles, ‘there are things we must
discuss.’

She did not
know what he was going to say, but some instinct warned her not to let him say
it, so she began the conversation in her own way.

‘Tell me
Joshua, when will you be going to
Manchester
? Now that you have inherited half the mill, I am sure
you will want to be attending to business.’

‘Trying to get
rid of me, Becky?’ he asked, an amused twinkle in his eye.

‘Perhaps I am.’

‘You won’t
find it so easy!’ he said. But then he became serious. ‘Rebecca, I was wrong to
let you go last night. I shouldn’t have let you return to the ballroom after
our meeting in the morning-room until things had been settled between us.’

Rebecca felt
her curiosity rise. Until things had been settled between them? What did he mean?

Joshua was
continuing. ‘I should have realized when it happened that we might have been
seen together at
The Queen’s Head
. As soon as I met you again I should
have taken the necessary steps to protect your reputation and keep you free of
the interference of people like George Lacy. However, what’s done is done. What
matters now is not the past but the present. We must salvage the situation, and
marry without delay.’

‘We must . . .
what
?’ exclaimed Rebecca.

In her
astonishment she dug her toes instinctively into the ice and came to a swift
halt, leaving Joshua to come to a sharp stop beside her.

‘Marry,’ said
Joshua, turning to face her. ‘Without delay.’

‘Have you run
mad?’ asked Rebecca. ‘We scarcely know each other, and yet
—’

‘I can assure
you I have never been more sane.’

He spoke
sharply, and she was surprised at the harshness of his tone. A moment’s
reflection, however, told her that he had expected her to fall in with his
plans - although knowing her stubborn nature he should have been prepared for
her to have her own opinion on the matter - and she realized that her reaction
had shocked him.

‘I have no
more wish to be leg-shackled than you,’ he went on, ‘but as I have compromised
you we must marry as soon as the banns have been read.’

‘You
have
run mad!’ said Rebecca.

‘You think we
should have some pretence of a courtship?’ he asked, misunderstanding her. ‘Perhaps
you are right. If we marry too quickly tongues will be sure to wag, and it’s no
use our marrying in order to scotch one kind of rumour if all we do is succeed
in creating another. We will take our time, then, and have a three-month
engagement period. That should be long enough to silence the gossips, and
convince them you are not . . .
’

‘With child?’
she asked forthrightly.

He gave a provocative
smile. ‘I was going to say,
enceinte,
’ he remarked.

‘Which is
simply society’s word for the same condition,’ she returned. ‘However, you
misunderstand me entirely if you think I object to the length of the
engagement. I object to the whole idea. I have no intention of marrying you,
either with or without a pretence of courtship. I have seen you but three times
before today, and even on that short acquaintance I can say that you are the
most impossible man I ever met. You cannot seriously expect me to spend the
rest of my life with you. I would not
—’