Rebel Dreams (15 page)

Alex shrugged. “There are a few local men on my payroll. I
don’t know the area well enough to make all inquiries on my own. They’ve been
helpful.” He bit into a roll.

She was inclined to think of him as an indolent nobleman
because he dressed and acted that part when they attended public functions
together. But she had to remember that only a shrewd businessman could operate
a firm as large as Cranville Enterprises. That he had hired ruffians on his
payroll was credible.

“Why didn’t you go with the
Minerva?
” she finally asked.

Finishing the last of the food on his plate, Alex wiped his
mouth with the napkin, and leaned back against the pillows. “That was what I
was asking myself when you came in.”

So much for any romantic theories she might have secretly
harbored. Alex wasn’t a man prone to the subtleties of seduction. She began to
believe he would not lie to her. She wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t have preferred
just a little lie in this instance.

Evelyn stood and picked up the tray. “Surely there will be
another ship arriving soon. This way you will have time to turn your
information over to the Admiralty Court. Have you found out the names of the smugglers
yet?”

“No, they’re more clever than I expected. The companies
appear to be registered in England. I’ll need the information I requested from
my partners before I can confirm my suspicions.”

He sounded tired, and Evelyn regretted her earlier sarcasm. “I’m
sorry I ever suspected you of smuggling. We’ll do our best to make you
comfortable until a ship arrives.” She backed against the door, pushing it open
so she could leave with her hands full of tray and utensils. His hollow reply
stopped her in the doorway.

“It will have to be a Cranville vessel, my dear. The
Minerva
sailed with the last of my funds.”

Several mornings later, Evelyn started at finding Alex
leaning against her bedroom doorjamb. She hastily tucked the rest of her shirt
into her breeches “What are you doing in here?”

The doctor had examined his wound earlier and announced it
healing nicely, but he still wore a bandage above his eye. “I’m tired of
playing the part of invalid. Have all evening activities come to a crashing
halt since the riots, that you must occupy your time working at night?” He gave
her boy’s clothing a disparaging look.

“You would certainly look dashing with that bandage dancing
through a ballroom and fainting at the first reel,” she retorted, annoyed for
not having closed the door tightly. “You don’t have to worry about it, though.
Since the governor is still in hiding and Hutchinson’s house has been
demolished and my uncle has quit entertaining, there is little in the way of
society these days. The militia patrolling the streets might have something to
do with the lack of interest in frivolity.”

“I thought you said they caught Mcintosh. Surely they’re not
afraid of more riots with the ringleader behind bars.”

Evelyn reached for her jerkin while covertly studying Alex.
He hadn’t precisely been a model patient these past days, but he had been
rather more subdued than she had expected. She suspected his graciousness was
for her mother’s benefit. Besides, he couldn’t afford to be thrown out of free
room and board.

It occurred to her that she had the means to keep Alex
entertained until one of his ships arrived to rescue him. He obviously had a
penchant for trouble, and she knew the best troublemakers in town. The question
was, did she dare introduce him to the radical ideas they espoused?

She watched his expression as she reported, “Mcintosh was
released yesterday.”

Alex straightened and stared at her as if she were crazed. “You’re
joking. Jacob said he was the one who led the mob from the State House to the
judge’s and then to Hutchinson’s. There can’t be two men out there who look
like that.”

Evelyn shrugged. “Do you want to be the man responsible for
holding someone who can control a mob?”

“How can he control anything from behind bars?” Alex’s
astonishment turned to suspicion. “There’s something you’re not telling me.
There has been all along. Where are you going, dressed in that costume?”

He had helped her and her family when he didn’t have to. He
had endured her uncle’s insults, protected her with his name, and rescued Jacob
from thieves—all greatly against his will, she suspected. He was an Englishman
with no notion of what it was like to be a colonist. Maybe it was about time he
learned.

“To meet some friends. Would you like to come?”

Studying her jerkin and breeches, he replied with his usual insouciance.
“Do I need to wear a costume?”

Evelyn grinned. “I think the pirate look will suffice.” She
sobered when she asked, “Are you certain you are well enough? I don’t want you stumbling
down the stairs and breaking your leg. I don’t think I could bear your temper
for as long as it takes a leg to heal.”

“If I break my leg, I will arrange for it to be elsewhere so
I needn’t endure the temptation of your charming insults.” Alex hooked his arm
over Evelyn’s shoulder and made a great display of limping along beside her as
they turned toward the stairs.

“You’re an insufferable cad,” she admonished as he caught
the banister but continued to rest his arm on her shoulders.

“I’ll pay you back in kisses later,” he whispered wickedly
as they descended.

Evelyn swung her fist at their injured guest’s stomach. He
dodged and howled with laughter.

Alex quit treating their escapade as a joke the instant
Evelyn led him to a dockside tavern. He caught her arm and held her back. “Have
you taken leave of your senses? You can’t go in there. Even in that garb, no
one will mistake you for a man.”

Evelyn smirked. “Oh? Am I not tall enough? I haven’t got
your shoulders, I admit, but I think I make a passable boy.”

“Even a blind man could see you are no boy. You curve in all
the wrong places and smell of violets. And if this is your way of seeking
flattery, I’m too out of patience to offer more.”

From Alex, that was exceptional flattery, and Evelyn grinned
a little more. “I curve in all the wrong places! Lud, but you’ll spin my head
with such sweet phrases! I can assure you, sir, that I will be perfectly safe.
Skirts are a little obvious, and men being the poor creatures that they are,
are rather nervous having females about. So I sit quietly in the corner and
blend into the woodwork. You’ll see.”

“Dammit all, Evelyn, I didn’t bring my sword or a pistol to
protect your virtue. The jest is over. Let’s go back.”

She sidestepped his grasping hand, opened the tavern door,
and walked in. He could stay behind if he liked, but this was the first time
the committee had agreed she could sit in on their meeting. She had ripped Sam
Adams up one side and down the other for the result of Mcintosh’s personal
vendetta. He owed her this.

Of course, this was only an informal gathering. She wouldn’t
have dared to bring Alex to one of their closed meetings. Here, he could just
see her as meeting with friends, as she had said. He could make what he would
of the discussion.

Pilgrim greeted her with a jovial grin and a few of the
other, younger men lifted their mugs in recognition. Evelyn took a bench by the
fireplace near their table. Their grins disappeared at sight of Alex. In the
dim light of smoking oil lamps and candles, the table of patriots watched the
heir to an earldom with suspicion.

“Miss Wellington, you did not tell us you were bringing a
visitor.” Sam Adams sat back in his chair and pulled on his pipe, his hand
trembling with the palsy that sometimes afflicted him.

“Is this not an open discussion, Mr. Adams? Don’t you think
it’s time that some of your complaints be heard by someone who might be in a
position to do something about them?”

***

Alex glared from Evelyn to the gray-haired, ill-dressed
man. He had known the termagant was leading him into trouble. He still wasn’t
certain of the cause, but he could smell the source a mile away. He closed his
hands over the back of a vacant chair and waited for the older man to speak.

“Not a blamed Tory, Miss Wellington!” the man addressed as
Adams replied. “That’s the trouble with females, they don’t think with their
heads. You don’t understand politics.” He turned his gaze to Alex. “Mr.
Hampton, I apologize for the lady’s mistake. You will not find our company very
congenial.”

The old man knew his name. That was interesting. Judging by
the tense faces around the table, the others allowed this man to sit in
judgment. Alex wasn’t fond of dictators, and he suspected Evelyn had her
reasons for bringing him where he was clearly unwanted. He swung the chair
around and sat down.

“On the contrary, I am eager to meet friends of my fiancée,
particularly if they can tell me why her establishment was attacked the other
night.” That was a wild guess, but the guilt registering on several faces told
him he’d struck a point. He waved his hand to the barmaid for a mug.

“It won’t happen again, I assure you, Mr. Hampton. The
Wellingtons are a respected family in this community. An error was made, as
occasionally happens due to the human element.”

Alex glanced to Evelyn to see if she caught that revelation.
The old man was insinuating the riots could be controlled. She didn’t seem
surprised.

He took a sip of his ale while he formulated a reply. “Dealing
with mobs involves more human element than is safe around women and children.
Mrs. Upton and her daughter were set upon by thieves. Isn’t there a more
orderly manner of accomplishing your objectives?”

Adams sat back and let one of the younger men plunge into
the much-debated subject.

“We have tried proper channels, Mr. Hampton,” the eager
young man protested. “Has Evelyn told you nothing? The representatives of all
the colonies have sent formal letters of protest over recent taxation policies.
Our own royally appointed governor and lieutenant governor have objected to the
excessive tariffs. No one listens. If polite argument won’t work, what else is
there? Parliament must be made to see that the entire populace objects to these
chains around our necks. We will not accept tyranny!”

The argument grew heated after that, and the combatants all
but forgot Alex’s presence.

By the time they left the tavern, he was furious, but it was
a fury gained of fomenting ideas. When they reached the street, he gripped Evelyn’s
upper arm.

“What are you doing involved with men like that?”

The termagant simply kept walking, forcing him to keep up
with her or rip her arm off. “What do you mean, ‘men like that’? They’re
friends of my father’s, friends of mine. They are respectable, intelligent
people. Have you friends who are any better?”

Since he had cut himself off from his drinking, gambling,
whoring acquaintances some years ago when he went into trade, Alex could not
respond adequately. He still found it hard to deal with the idea of a lady in
breeches. To think of her in terms of friend to radical Whigs was almost beyond
his capacity.

“They might have been your father’s drinking buddies, but
they are no friends to you if they entangle you in their seditious activities.
You would do well to stay away from them.”

Evelyn turned on him in fury. “Then perhaps you would do
well to stay away from
me
. I am not a
child or a fool. I am as capable of reasoning as you are. More so, obviously.
You have no right to dictate to me.”

Angry women, Alex understood. Generally, it was just simpler
to walk out on them, but he had no desire to leave this one alone. Knowing what
he had in mind would make her even more furious, he couldn’t resist the
temptation of flashing eyes.

He wrapped his arm around Evelyn’s waist and lifted her into
the darkness of a nearby alley, where he bent to silence their argument with
his lips, the best manner known to him.

She pounded his chest with both fists, but she didn’t turn
her head away. He used one hand to capture her weapons, holding them against
his heart while his lips closed over hers. When she refused to succumb to his
pressure, he teased light kisses along her mouth until she was leaning into
him, seeking more. This time when he asked for entrance, she gave it.

The touch of her tongue shook him more than he expected. He
hugged her closer, fitting her against him as their kisses deepened and
strained for closer joining. With wonder, Alex discovered tears coursing down
Evelyn’s cheeks. He kissed away their saltiness, releasing her mouth while still
holding her close.

“Don’t cry, little tyrant. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Evelyn rested her head on his shoulder. Alex held her,
rubbing his hand up and down her spine. She wrapped her arms around his waist,
and he discovered a terrible need to seek this tenderness more often.

He had never held a woman in innocence. He had time to
absorb the tiny sensations, the sweetness of her breath, the silkiness of her
cheek and hair. The lust was still there, but muted by the discovery of her
tears. She fitted so perfectly into his arms, curving into him in all the right
places despite his height, that he was reluctant to end his hold. He pressed a
kiss above her ear and allowed his hand to slide to the tempting curve of her
rounded bottom.

“We have a problem here, my darling.” The drawl in his voice
was mocking, but the mockery was for himself. When she tried to push away, he
gentled her with soft strokes. “Don’t be angry again. I’m trying to learn. It
just takes some getting used to.”

Evelyn spread her palms flat against the linen on his chest
and tilted her head back to observe him better. “I’m angry with myself,” she
whispered. “We had better go home now.”

She didn’t push from his arms, and Alex didn’t know whether
to be relieved or annoyed. She made it impossible for him to think. His only
impulse was to hold her and never let go. “That’s an excellent idea. Do you
remember how to get there?”