One Snowy Night by Amanda Grange Page A

out of the gossips’ sails was for them
to wed.
    If you
think I am going to marry for the ridiculous reasons you propose . . . she had said to
him.
    Ridiculous? To
marry for the sake of her reputation?
    It was a
down-to-earth reason to wed.
    And yet even
as a part of him railed at her for refusing him, a part of him admired her. She
had not been prepared to compromise her principles, not even for the sake of
her reputation.
    What strength
she had! What determination!
    "If only
she had been a man!" Jeb’s words came back to him.
    At the time he
had not known what Jeb meant. He knew now. But he could not agree. Because he
was grateful, with every fibre of his being, that she was a woman.
    A smouldering
light glowed in his eyes as he remembered the feelings that had coursed through
him earlier in the evening. When she had declared that she would not marry him
- when, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed, she had thrown back her head, her
every word, her every gesture speaking defiance - then he had felt a surge of
admiration flood through him at the sight of her. He had been filled with the
wild desire to sweep her off her feet and carry her to the sofa where he had
longed to make passionate love to her . . . .
    Oh, yes, he
thought, as the image danced before his eyes, he was extremely glad she was a
woman. Every inch a woman.
    If only she
was not such a stubborn one.
    He went over
to the washstand and threw water over his face and chest.
    But one thing
was now certain. He must see as little as possible of her. He was powerfully
attracted to her, and now that she had refused his hand he must never let
himself be carried away again. There could be no repeat of the incident at Lady
Cranston’s ball. His dealings with Rebecca must be circumspect. He would not
compromise Jebadiah’s granddaughter in any way.
    But it was
going to be almost impossible to restrain himself.

Chapter Six
     
    Rebecca felt out of sorts.
She should have been pleased that she had irrevocably refused Joshua’s hand but
instead, unaccountably, she felt low in spirits. A week had passed since she
had refused him and she had not seen him since. Which was a good thing, she
told herself. Because it meant that he had accepted her refusal and did not
mean to offer her his hand again.
    But for some
reason she could not comprehend her spirits were still low.
    She picked up
her book and wandered over to the window, looking out at the snow. She, Hetty
and Charles had spent the last few days enjoying the delights of the winter
weather. They had taken a sled into the park and had tobogganed down the slopes
- ‘I am too old for this,’ Hetty had declared, but she had enjoyed it as much
as any of them. They had watched a collection of urchins building a snowman,
and they had indulged in a game of snowballs. But today it was snowing too
heavily to make them want to venture outside.
    She was just
about to settle down with her book when she saw a familiar figure arriving at
the house.
    It was Miss
Biddulph!
    Delighted that
her companion had recovered sufficiently to complete the journey to London , Rebecca went out into
the hall to welcome her.
    She could see
at once that Biddy was still weak, and rang for tea whilst settling Biddy by
the fire.
    ‘You look
tired,’ she said sympathetically as she sat down beside Biddy. ‘I hope you
haven’t overtaxed your strength by completing the journey.’
    ‘I am rather
tired,’ Biddy admitted. ‘But I felt well enough to travel, and besides, I did
not want to remain another night in an inn.’
    ‘I can
understand that,’ said Rebecca, thinking of the last night she herself had
spent at an inn - although she doubted that Biddy had had a similar experience!
    Tea was
brought and Rebecca and Hetty, who bustled in as soon as she heard that Miss
Biddulph had arrived, set about seeing to Miss Biddulph’s comfort; for although
Miss Biddulph was acting as Rebecca’s companion on this trip, she had been
Rebecca’s governess in