“Ah! Here is Joshua,” said Hetty in a pleased voice, catching sight of him as he threaded his way through the other guests.

Rebecca, by now in control of herself, greeted him politely, and Hetty and Charles did the same.

“You haven't forgotten your promise?” he said teasingly to Rebecca as he stopped in front of her.

She was forced to look up at him. “No indeed.”

“Good. The first dance is about to begin.”

He gave her his arm and led her out onto the floor.

To her relief, the first dance was a country dance. She had been half afraid it might be a waltz. The risque dance was becoming permissible in polite society, but although she knew the steps she had never yet danced it at a ball. To have danced it for the first time with Joshua would have been alarming. To have felt his hand on her waist... would it burn, as his kiss had burned her hand?

“... not too crowded.”

With a start she realized that Joshua was speaking.

By the look in his eye she could tell he guessed she had been day-dreaming. She was just pleased that he did not know what about!

“No, indeed,” she said, accurately guessing that he had said the ballroom was not too crowded. “At least not yet. We should have plenty of room for our steps.”

The orchestra played the opening chords and she curtseyed demurely to Joshua. In return he made her a bow.

He took her hand for the first part of the dance. To her relief, his touch did not burn her. But instead she felt a strange shiver spread up her arm.

I have definitely been too long unwed! she thought, annoyed with her reaction to him. Of all people, to find herself attracted to Joshua! A man who was completely impossible!

She cast about in her mind for some topic of conversation that would keep her mind from wandering down such disturbing channels. The sight of a militiaman in uniform made her recall Joshua's warning the previous day that mills were dangerous places. She wondered whether he could have been referring to the problems caused by the Luddites, for they had been active in recent years.

Yes, the Luddites were a suitable choice of conversation. Talking about them would most certainly prevent her thoughts from wandering down hopelessly inappropriate paths!

The steps of the dance parted them for a minute, but when they met again Rebecca said, “You were speaking of the dangers concerned with running the mill yesterday. Were you thinking of the Luddites?” she asked.

Joshua gave a wry smile, as though guessing the reason for her unusual choice of conversation. But no. Of course he could not have done. She was letting her imagination run away with her — again.

Whatever his thoughts, he fell in with her choice of conversation. “Yes. I was.”

“Have there been any problems with them at Marsden mill?”

“No. Marsden mill was never attacked. But that doesn't mean that we can relax in our vigilance. These are turbulent times, and we need to remember it.” The steps of the dance parted them again, but when they came together, Joshua asked, “Your grandfather spoke to you about the Luddite problem, I take it?”

“No,” said Rebecca.

“Then you don't know the kind of havoc they can cause,” he frowned.

“On the contrary,” she informed him. “I know only too well. Cousin Louisa and I live in Cheshire, as you know. That is very close to the source of many of the problems. The Luddites have caused a lot of difficulties in the north of England recently, and in the Midlands as well.” Her mouth quirked humorously. “Despite being a mere woman, I have been known to read a newspaper from time to time,” she said with a sideways glance.

He laughed. But then his expression became more serious. “Reading a newspaper is one thing; running a mill is another. I wasn't exaggerating when I said that mills are dangerous places. If you read the newspapers, you know that what I am saying is true.”

“I know it was true,” said Rebecca. “There has been a lot of unrest, but it is over now. The ringleaders have been dealt with and that has put a stop to it.”

“Unfortunately it may not be as simple as that. Although a lot of the Luddite ringleaders have been dealt with, the underlying problems haven't gone away, and trouble could break out again at any time. We will not know if the Luddite movement has really been broken until we have had at least two or three peaceful years. There is still a lot of resentment against the using of machines because the machines take away men's jobs, and without jobs they can't feed their families.”

“In that I have a great deal of sympathy for them,” said Rebecca. She looked at him challengingly as she walked down the room beside him, her hand raised and joined to his. “I warn you, if you mean to put men out of work then I will do everything in my power to thwart you.”

“It would not surprise me,” he returned, with a flash in his copper-coloured eyes.

And why did they have to send shivers through her, those eyes? she wondered, as she turned away from him, in accordance with the dance. Why could they not have been green, or blue, or grey, or anything but copper?

The dance brought them together again.

“I can understand why the men hate machines,” continued Rebecca. She was determined not to succumb to the magnetism of the man before her: if she did that, he would surely relegate her, as a mere woman, to a subordinate role, and forbid her any real influence over her inheritance. But she was determined to play her part. Although she knew very little about running a mill she meant to use her part-ownership to make sure that the men and women who worked there did not suffer the draconian working conditions that were prevalent in some mills. This, she suspected, was the part her grandfather had meant her to play: bringing a softening influence to Joshua's hard and predatory nature. “The machines take away their jobs. I am not surprised they're resentful.”

“Being resentful is one thing,” he remarked. “Being violent is quite another. The Luddites are no respecters of persons. If they feel their livelihoods are threatened they are not above breaking into the homes of mill owners and holding them at gunpoint.”

“You are thinking of James Balderstone,” said Rebecca. The assault on James Balderstone had been in all the newspapers at the time. His house had been broken into by a mob, and he had been held at gunpoint by a number of Luddites whilst their fellows had smashed up one of his frames.

“Among others. And in some cases the situation has been even worse. In Stockport, a mob broke into one of the mills and destroyed the looms before turning their attention to the owner's house and setting it on fire.”

“Nevertheless, I intend to take an interest in my inheritance,” said Rebecca firmly. “Grandfather left me half the mill for a purpose and I don't want to let him down. Besides, he is right. I can't be content with sitting by the fire and knitting! I long for a challenge. I am too much like him to be content with idling my life away.”

To her surprise, she saw a look of respect and understanding cross Joshua's face. But then it disappeared, and she could tell that, no matter how much he might understand her feelings, he was not about to give in. He did not want a woman as a partner, and it would take more than a flash of respect to change his mind.

There was no time for anything further, however. The dance was drawing to its close. The last chords sounded and she turned to Joshua and dropped him a curtsey.

He made her a bow and then, offering her his arm, he escorted her to the side of the room. Hetty was waiting for them. The three of them enjoyed a little light conversation before Joshua made his excuses and left their side.

“My, you made a handsome couple,” said Hetty, unfolding her fan and wafting it in front of her face to create a cooling breeze. “It's such a pity that Joshua is too young to marry.” She gave a sigh. “He has too much drive and ambition to settle down. Perhaps, when he is older, and needs to set up his nursery... But never mind, there are plenty of eligible bachelors here tonight. Oh, look, here is Lord Henderton.” She caught sight of Rebecca's humorous expression and said ruefully, “I know you don't like me to play the part of the matchmaker, Rebecca, but I would so like to see you settled.”

“I promise you that if I ever fall in love I will be happy to marry,” she said. “But not until.”

“Well, I can ask for no more than that,” said Hetty. She turned towards the young nobleman. “Ah! Lord Henderton! How lovely to see you. I don't believe you know my niece.”

Lord Henderton professed himself eager to rectify that sad state of affairs, and before long Rebecca found him leading her out onto the floor. Lord Henderton turned out to be a good dancer and an agreeable companion, and she enjoyed the cotillion they danced together.

Hetty nobly refrained from asking her how she had found Lord Henderton when the dance came to an end, but Rebecca took pity on her, telling her that she had found him most agreeable.

“And there are a number of other young gentlemen here tonight who are equally agreeable,” said Hetty, eager to promote Rebecca's happiness. “You must let me introduce you to Mr Porter.” She wafted her fan in the direction of the gentleman in question. “He comes from a very good family, and his mother and I are old friends.”

Rebecca allowed Hetty to make the introduction, and then accepted Mr Porter's hand for the next dance. Like Lord Henderton, he was a pleasant and agreeable companion. But his closeness did not make her skin tingle...

After Mr Porter, Rebecca danced with a succession of pleasant and agreeable young men.

It was whilst she was dancing with Mr Yunge, however, that she became aware of another gentleman watching her with a puzzled expression. As soon as the dance ended he accosted her, saying, “Haven't we met somewhere before?”

Rebecca took in his bland, slack-featured face and shook her head. “I don't believe so.” Then, remembering that Joshua had been reminded of her grandfather on first meeting her, she said, “Perhaps you knew my grandfather, Jebadiah Marsden. There is a family resemblance, I believe.”

He shook his head. “No, I never knew Jebadiah Marsden.” He regarded her closely. It was somewhere recently that I saw you, I am certain. You have been in London for the winter?”

“No. I have only just arrived.”

“And you are sure we have never met?” he asked curiously.

“Positive.” Rebecca was firm.

He gave a sigh. “I could have sworn... oh, well I dare say it will come back to me.”

Rebecca murmured a polite nothing and returned to Hetty's side.

“I am glad you are getting to know some of the gentlemen here,” said Hetty, rather anxiously, “but if I can just give you a word of warning, Rebecca. The gentleman you were talking to just now — the slack-featured gentleman, George Lacy — he is not quite the thing.”

“Don't worry aunt,” teased Rebecca. “I promise not to form a tendre for him!”

To Rebecca's surprise, Hetty did not smile at her sally.

“That isn't what I mean,” said Hetty, shaking her head. “He has a malicious nature, and he delights in inflicting harm. He loves nothing better than to gossip — I declare he is worse than a woman in that way — and if he ever discovers something any decent person would keep quiet about, he noises it abroad. Oh! Not openly. That would be too dangerous for him. There are still gentlemen who are prepared to fight a duel if they feel their own of their wife's honour has been called into question. But nevertheless he finds a way of making it known.”

“Never fear,” said Rebecca. “He cannot hurt me. I have nothing to hide.”

“Even so, I would rather you kept away from him,” said Hetty worriedly.

“I shall do as you suggest,” said Rebecca. She had detected something underhand about Mr Lacy herself, and was happy to assure Hetty she had no intention of cultivating his acquaintance.

“Good.” Hetty was satisfied.

“Oh, look,” she said. “Here is Joshua. I believe he means to ask you for another dance.”

Rebecca felt her heart skip a beat. Dancing with Joshua had been difficult enough the first time. She did not trust herself to accept his hand for a second time. She must think of some excuse.

“May I have the honour of your hand for the next dance?” asked Joshua as he joined them at the side of the ballroom.

“I must beg to be excused,” Rebecca said. “I am feeling rather hot.”