“No?” His eyes were mocking.

Rebecca swallowed. “No.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

The atmosphere had suddenly grown thick, and she was uncomfortably aware of a tingling sensation running down her spine. He was a formidable man, and she was beginning to see why her grandfather had said he was such a strong player in business matters. It was not because he had a head for figures, as she had supposed — although he was undoubtedly intelligent — but because he had a ruthless streak that would serve him well in the cut and thrust of commerce. It was in his eyes, a ruthlessness that was akin to a jungle cat regarding its prey; because despite his civilised veneer there was definitely something ruthless about Joshua Kelling.

And he was to be her partner in the mill.

She felt a brief moment of panic, before her spirit rose to the challenge. Here was a man against whom she could test her mettle, and that was something she did not meet with every day.

“Wondering how strong I am, Rebecca?” he asked, as if reading her mind.

“I —” she said, startled. “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked accusingly.

He laughed. “Jebadiah used to wonder the same thing. We had many battles. Most of which I won. But not all.” He looked at her critically. “You are very like him. When we met in The Nag's Head I wondered who you reminded me of, and now I know. When you lift your chin — yes, like that!” he said, as she unconsciously lifted it, sensing a challenge, “then you are just like Jebadiah. Not physically, of course,” he said with a wicked smile, “but there is something about your manner, as if you are saying, Do your worst, it won't be enough, no man will ever get the better of me.” His smile broadened into sardonic laughter. “With his blood in your veins it's no wonder you were capable of standing up to me. What is a wonder is that you didn't turn me out of the room!”