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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, worried.
    ‘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 enlivening the first time,
but 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.’
    ‘Indeed.’ His
eyes fixed on hers and held them for a long moment.
    If she had not
been hot before, she certainly was now!
    As if
convinced that she was indeed feeling heated by the delicate flush that sprang
to her cheek, Joshua released her from his gaze, saying, ‘Then you must let me
fetch you an ice.’
    Rebecca
accepted his offer and he strode off, to return a few minutes later with a
refreshing confection.
    By this time
Hetty was deep in conversation with one of the other matrons, leaving Rebecca
feeling vulnerable. As she took the ice she decided it was best to retreat once
more into general conversation. She was just about to launch into a discussion
of the war against France ,
asking Joshua whether he felt that Napoleon was indeed close to ultimate
defeat, as the newspapers suggested, when she became aware of George Lacy’s
eyes on them.
    ‘What is it?’
asked Joshua, seeing her frown.
    ‘That
gentleman,’ said Rebecca, her hand poised halfway to her mouth. ‘George Lacy.
He is watching me.’
    ‘That’s hardly
surprising,’ said Joshua. His eyes warmed as they roved over her face, taking
in her bright eyes and her naturally red lips, before dropping to her delicious
curves, which were encased in her satin gown.
    Rebecca
blushed. ‘You must not say such things to me!’ she reprimanded him.
    He looked down
at her more intently, and the mocking smile left his lips. ‘Why not, when they
are true?’ he asked.
    Rebecca could
think of no answer to this. Even so, she wished he would not say such things,
or look at her in such a disturbing way. She was becoming prey to certain
unsettling images, images of him sweeping her into his arms and kissing her on
the lips.
    ‘Tell me,’ she
said, striving to turn the conversation into less disturbing channels, and
falling back on her earlier idea of discussing Napoleon. ‘What do you think of
Napoleon’s chances, now that so many countries have entered a coalition against
him?’
    ‘Determined to
talk of commonplaces?’ he asked with a quizzical look.
    She could
think of no suitable reply, and covered her silence by taking a spoonful of
ice.
    Then his
quizzical look vanished, and Rebecca realized he had seen the wisdom of this
himself.
    ‘Very well,’
he said. ‘I think that Napoleon was a fool to invade Russia last year. I think his defeat at the Battle of the Nations in October
spelt his doom, and I think the Coalition will eventually beat him. He’s a
great general, but not even he can stand out against Russia, Prussia, Sweden,
Austria and Bavaria when they are all united against him.’ He gave a wry