Hetty indicated their places, and they took their seats at the long mahogany table. A group of candles were lit in the centre, casting their sparkling light over the glass and silverware. It was a most attractive sight.
Hetty looked a little anxious as the soup was brought in, but the first mouthful showed it to be good and hot and Rebecca saw her relax.
Good! thought Rebecca. At least Hetty will be able to enjoy the evening!
“Do you know,” began Charles, once he had taken the edge off his appetite, “I think —”
But whatever Charles had been about to say was lost for ever as there was a sudden crash and something came hurtling through the window, narrowly missing Joshua's head. It passed over his left shoulder and landed with a splash in his soup.
“What. . . ?” asked Rebecca, aghast.
She looked at Joshua, relieved to see he had not been hurt. If the stone — for a stone she could now see it to be — had been an inch to the right it would have struck him forcibly on the back of the head.
Joshua, throwing down his napkin, was already striding over to the window and looking out onto the lamplit street.
“Do you see anything?” asked Rebecca, joining him.
But as she looked out of the window she could see as well as he could that the street was empty.
“No. Nothing.” Joshua's voice was grim.
“Oh! How dreadful!” said Hetty. “Lady Cranston was telling me only last night that her own house had been burgled just before Christmas, and now our house has been attacked. I don't know what is happening to the world these days. It was never like this when I was a girl.”
Behind her, Rebecca heard Charles calling for the footmen as he gathered a party together and went outside in order to search for the miscreants.
And then she felt Joshua put his arm round her shoulder and steer her away from the window. As he did so his arm grazed her skin where, above her long white evening gloves and beneath the short, puffed sleeves of her gown, it was bare. She felt a shiver run up her arm and spread throughout her body. Instinctively she turned to look at him, lips parted, and he, feeling her reaction to his touch, turned towards her, eyes smouldering. There was a look of desire on his face that set her pulses racing. A desire that, alarmingly, was matched by an equally fierce desire of her own.
How had it happened? How had she found herself desiring the most stubborn man she had ever met? The most ruthless and the most perverse? A man who would relegate her to the fireside if she gave him a chance? Who would deny her the right to take an interest in her inheritance? And who, as the final straw, expected her to enter into a loveless marriage for the sake of her reputation? It was of all things the most contrary.
“London grows more dangerous by the day,” sighed Hetty.
Rebecca heard the words through a haze. She could barely hear, let alone think, with Joshua so close by. His presence seemed to be robbing her of an awareness of everything but him; his strongly-moulded features, his mane of hair, his full lips and his penetrating eyes.
With an effort she brought her wandering thoughts back under control.
She could tell that Joshua was making a similar effort. Although his eyes remained locked on hers, he replied to Hetty's remark.
“These things happen,” he said.
He had obviously made an effort to speak lightly, but even so his voice came out huskily. The sound of it made Rebecca feel weak.
Making an effort to control her powerful reactions to Joshua, she wrenched her eyes away from his and fastened them once more on the street outside.
“Do...” She stopped. Her voice was weak and trembling. She tried once more. “Do you think it will happen again?”
This time, her voice came out almost normally, with only the slightest hint of a quaver.
“I hope not,” said Hetty anxiously.
Fortunately, although she had looked at Rebecca sympathetically when Rebecca's voice had trembled, she seemed to think it was nervousness on Rebecca's part because of the stone flying through the window and nothing more.
“But it might,” said Joshua, who was once more in control of himself. Taking care not to touch Rebecca, he guided her back to the table. “I suggest we stay away from the windows,” he said.
Rebecca nodded. It was a wise precaution, under the circumstances.
Joshua turned his attention to the table. Reaching out his hand he took the stone from his half-eaten bowl of soup. The bowl had been cracked by the force of the stone, and soup was seeping out onto the damask cloth.
“Oh, no!” exclaimed Hetty, suddenly noticing what a mess it was making.
She rang the bell, and a minute or two later she began directing the servants, instructing them to sweep up the broken china and glass, for the table was covered in fragments from the broken window.
“The table will have to be completely cleared,” she told the servants as she superintended their activities.
Joshua turned the stone in his hand, feeling the jagged edges.
Rebecca looked at the stone, then took it out of his hand. She shuddered. It was large and heavy, and the edges were extremely sharp.
Joshua reclaimed it. “Better not to dwell on it,” he said. “Come and sit by the fire. You've had a shock.”
“No,” said Rebecca, pulling her shawl more closely around her. “I must see if Hetty needs any help.”
“No, thank you, my dear, the servants have everything well in hand,” said Hetty. “Lay the table in the parlour, if you please,” she instructed the servants. “We will finish our meal in the back of the house. And serve the soup again, if you will. We have hardly had a chance to touch it.”
At that moment Charles walked back into the room.
“Anything?” asked Joshua.
“Nothing,” said Charles, shaking his head. “Whoever it was has long gone. There was no sign of them.”
“I have ordered the table laid in the parlour,” said Hetty, in an effort to restore an atmosphere of normality. She glanced anxiously at the window. “I don't feel comfortable eating here any longer.”
“I think that's a wise precaution,” said Charles. “I don't think well have any further problems tonight, though,” he went on. “Now they know the house is well defended, the miscreants will think twice before attacking it again.”
Rebecca felt her calm returning. It had been an anxious fifteen minutes, but it was over now and no harm done.
Of far greater concern to her was her reaction to Joshua. If he was going to continue to have such a strong effect on her, she hoped he would remove to Manchester as soon as possible. Although even there she would have to see him from time to time, she thought with a shiver, especially as she was determined to take an interest in the mill.
“Come, let's go through to the parlour,” said Hetty. “Fortunately there is a good fire burning there. We will soon be comfortable again.”
The table was soon re-set and before long they had all settled down to their meal once more. This time there were no unfortunate disturbances, and they could enjoy their mulligatawny soup in peace.
But Rebecca's calm was short-lived. Because once they had finished their main course of ham in Madeira sauce and were about to embark on dessert, Charles said jocularly, “You don't have any enemies, do you, Josh?”
“Enemies?” asked Joshua.
Superficially the word came out light-heartedly, but Rebecca detected a note of tension in Joshua's voice. A moment later she asked herself how it was that she was able to catch the subtle nuances in his voice. Usually it was something she could only do with people she knew well, but she seemed to be able to do it with Joshua, despite their short acquaintance.
“No, of course not,” Joshua finished.