Rebel Dreams (17 page)

Alex’s lips tightened. “You misunderstand me, Captain. The
lady will be released now or
you
will
come before the judge in the morning. Is my meaning clear now?”

Confusion warred with fear on the soldier’s face. Alex
understood and acted on the man’s uncertainties. Soldiers took orders from
superior officers, and an heir to an earldom was more superior than any
officer.

“Perhaps bond can be arranged,” the captain equivocated. “Let
me send a messenger to my commanding officer to set an amount. The lady will
still have to come before the judge in the morning.”

Alex’s only wish at the moment was to get Evelyn out of that
cell. If anyone hanged her, it would be him. Reaching for the quill and ink on
the man’s desk, he gestured impatiently. “Give me some paper, Captain. I’ll
give you my note for a thousand pounds. That should be sufficient to cover all
charges the lady could possibly be held on.”

To reject a nobleman’s signature would be an insult
requiring satisfaction. The officer hastily provided the paper requested.

Five minutes later a subdued Evelyn was led into the office.
She had worn one of her drab gowns to the warehouse that day, and her hair was
simply tied in a loop at her nape. She lacked her usual fire and passion as she
stepped into the military office. Even when she saw Alex in all his finery, her
eyes remained blank and full of pain.

This was no smuggler but a beaten woman. He had let her down
by not finding the smugglers before they endangered her. Alex gritted his teeth
to keep from saying something rash to the damned puppy awaiting praise for his
quick action.

Nodding curtly at the officer, Alex held out his arm for
Evelyn to take. “I will see that you are not mentioned unfavorably in my
report, Captain. Your superior officer will bear the consequences of this
outrage.”

He caught Evelyn’s hand against his arm and stiffly led her
out, fighting his fury. He had her back. Now what could he do?

Outside, Jacob let out a whoop of joy and ran to embrace his
sister. She gave him a faint smile, touched his hair, but offered no answers to
his eager questions.

Worried, Alex set the lad to a task to occupy his high
spirits. “Send for your uncle’s carriage, Jacob. Evelyn and I will wait for you
over on those benches.” He indicated a place near a closed shop where the
building’s shade cast the street in shadow.

The boy ran to do as told, and Alex settled them out of
sight of passersby. Evelyn offered no argument to the use of a closed carriage
to transport her back across town.

“Jacob said they found other contraband besides the brandy.
Did you know it was there?” That was a fool question even in his own ears, but
he had to bring up the topic somehow.

“And if I did?” She gave him a bitter smile, the first sign
of spirit she had shown since her release.

Relieved, he pushed for what he really needed to know. “Dammit,
Evelyn, you scared hell out of me! Don’t look at me as if I’m judge and jury.
Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“Just my pride.” Sighing, she stared down at her hands.

“That makes two of us, then. I didn’t think your uncle would
let your precious reputation be touched” he railed. “I thought you would be
safe. So much for my understanding of the criminal mind.”

Evelyn sent him a curious look. “Are you saying my uncle was
involved in my arrest or that he did not involve himself when he should have?”

“I am saying nothing,” he said wearily. “I have no proof. I
do not trust or like the man, and we argued this morning. I fear my threat
triggered this reaction. I told him you intended to auction off your unpaid
consignments. I had hoped if he were involved that would serve as warning that
the game was up. It looks to me as if he chose to call my bluff.”

“Oh, lud.” Evelyn grimaced and stared out at the empty
street. “If he is truly involved, Aunt Matilda will die of the shame. And
Frances will never make the respectable match she has her heart set on. They
have no funds of their own, only Uncle George’s. My mother’s family is puffed
with pride but has little wealth. It would break my mother’s heart to think she
encouraged her sister to come here, only to sink her beyond reproach.”

“I’d rather see him behind bars than you.” Alex scornfully
dismissed this conception of family pride. His family had been splintered for
generations. He saw little reason for Evelyn’s to stick together over such an
issue.

“I’d rather see neither of us there. You cannot imagine the
humiliation, Alex. I’m not sure I can ever hold my head up again. What happens
if the judge finds me guilty tomorrow?”

That was a point he didn’t want to consider yet. If he had a
ship in port, he would just put her on it and sail away. Cut off from family
and funds as he was, his only power was his name.

The carriage with Jacob beside the driver arrived before
Alex had time to answer. He handed Evelyn in, gave Jacob a nod of approval, and
climbed in to join her.

“I’ll talk to your lawyer this afternoon. Then perhaps I can
track this judge down. I’ll find out what I can. Don’t worry about it until you
have to. There has to be some kind of trial before they can sentence you. We
have time.” Alex took her hand, feeling safe to do so in the privacy of the
coach.

“You shouldn’t have to do this. It really is not your
concern, Alex. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but perhaps I ought to be the
one to look after myself. You don’t have to keep up appearances for my sake.”

Alex angrily withdrew his hand and looked as if he would
slap her. Evelyn sat back in surprise at his reaction. He had the perfect
excuse to end their mock betrothal now. She had not expected him to find his
freedom so offensive.

“You really do believe me a cad, don’t you, Miss Wellington?”

They were back to formal titles again. Evelyn hid her
dismay. “No. I only believe you have been caught up in something that you would
not normally be involved in because of me. I knew the boxes were there and
didn’t dispose of them. You only came because of my complaints. I don’t wish to
be the cause of more trouble for you.”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own trouble,” he
grumbled. “You need not protect me. I thought we had a better understanding than
that. If I am wrong, I will remove myself from your acquaintance at once.”

He spoke curtly and with every appearance of arrogance, but
Evelyn heard the hurt and wondered at it. A man like Alexander Hampton should
have an enormous circle of friends and family. Why, then, did he sound so
lonely?

“I did not want to cause you any scandal that would put you
in trouble with your cousin,” she replied quietly. “I would do the same for any
friend.”

He favored her with a grimace that would have to pass for a
smile. “Then allow me to do as I see fit. Go in, comfort your mother, take a
bath and do whatever ladies do to relax, and let me play the part of anxious
fiancé. I have a little more experience in avoiding jails than you do.”

When the carriage rolled to a halt, Alex assisted her out
and into the arms of her tearful mother. No further mention was made of his
moving out as he took his leave.

That night, Alex returned to dine and inform them of the
progress of his activities. As he departed later on still another errand, Evelyn
watched from her bedroom window. He had discarded his walking stick and elegant
silk coat in favor of broadcloth, and he walked away from the house with
purposeful strides.

Why had he made inquiries into the activities at Faneuil Hall?

Mid-September 1765

Alex entered the tiny warehouse office. Glancing up from
her ledgers, Evelyn grimaced. She’d worn an indigo gown of light wool this
morning, and now it was creased and dusty. Her hair had tumbled down over one
ear. She rubbed at a smudge of dirt she felt on her forehead. When he cracked a
grin, she shot him a look of irritation. He was a picture of immaculate finery,
as usual.

“If you just came to laugh at those of us who must work for
a living, you may leave right now. I’m in no humor to endure your jests.” In
truth, his lopsided smile made her heart lurch with longing. He so seldom
smiled that her fingers ached to trace the wonder of it.

In the past few weeks Alex had been all that was proper, a reform
that she greeted with mixed emotions. The strain of preparing for the trial had
left her nerves ragged. She longed for the comfort of his arms but had no right
to ask it of him. She would only harm herself, and him, to indulge in the needs
of the flesh. Still, she reveled in these small moments when he looked upon her
with what almost appeared to be fondness.

“I only came to admire your loveliness, little tyrant. Would
you deny me that pleasure?” Alex came around the counter and smoothed the
straying strands of her hair. Then, licking his finger, he scrubbed the smudge
from her cheek. “It’s rather like discovering the beauty of a Greek ruin after
the dirt is scrubbed off.”

Evelyn laughed at his nonsense. “Greek ruin? Thank you, my
beloved. Your flattery always leaves me speechless.”

Alex’s grin grew as he leaned back on one elbow against her
high desk. “Obviously I don’t flatter you enough, then. I’ve come to walk you
home. Those books will still be there in the morning.”

The laughter fled, and she turned on her high stool to stare
at the neat lines of inked figures. “The auction is in the morning. To meet the
most pressing debts, I need to know exactly how many blocks must be sold off out
of the stock the soldiers did not confiscate. Some of our clients have begged
that theirs not be sold. They are trying to raise the funds to pay me.”

“Then let them pay you by the morrow or do not worry about
them,” Alex responded coldly, lifting her from the stool. “You must learn to be
businesslike. You have enough problems of your own without taking on those of
others.”

Evelyn pulled away from the temptation of his hands on her
waist, but she took his arm and allowed herself to be led from the office. What
he said was essentially true, except she had no real desire to be ruthless. On
her own, she would never be any great success as a businesswoman. Still, she
had Jacob to think of. For his sake, she must learn to be more practical.

“Thomas has not found any new way of presenting my case?”
She knew Alex had been at the lawyer’s office. He always dressed more carefully
when he had a problem to confront. She straightened a bit of lace at his
throat.

Helping her lock the door, Alex wore a grim expression. “We
simply don’t have enough evidence to make it convincing. I’ve had the court
send men to search the warehouses the brandy was taken to, but they came back
empty-handed. I still have no names to charge the crime to. I have ridden out
with the men to help in the search and question the owners of those storage
places, but they are uncommunicative and unhelpful. Without evidence against
them, there is nothing further I can do. I will testify on your behalf. We will
present the invoices ordering the goods that the contraband came in and show
that it’s the same four companies who made all the orders, but none of that is
sufficient to prove your innocence. I’ve done you no favor by playing the part
of fiancé all these weeks. My testimony would be more effective were I
impartial.”

Evelyn’s fingers tightened around his arm. “Nothing you
could have done would have freed me from this coil. I’ve rather enjoyed being
courted by a notorious rake, although you have not kept up your role lately.”

Humor curved his mouth. “My dangerous pursuits of late have
been of a more subtle kind. Were I in London, I would be looked upon with
horror.”

“What are they discussing now?” She did not need explanation
of his pursuits. Alex’s attendance at the Sons of Liberty meetings had been
something of a sore point between them. She had been forbidden to attend any
but the open meetings, and Alex had frowned on those. He, on the other hand,
was welcomed by some of the more enlightened members who sought the influence
he might wield on return to England.

“They are continuing with their plans for a congress of all
the colonies to band together against the Stamp Act, although it seems a trifle
late to me. They should have done that when the act was first proposed.”

“Better late than never,” Evelyn intoned gloomily. She had
lost concern for these political arenas in the face of her more personal loss.
Any actions taken now would be too late for her, any way she looked at it.

***

Alex glanced down at Evelyn with concern. She had become
more withdrawn these last weeks since the judge had declared there was
sufficient evidence to support a trial. The bond he had offered kept her out of
jail as much as her name and sex, but the moment of decision was close at hand.
Her lawyer, Thomas Henderson, had told him the possible penalties if she were
found guilty. None of them were pleasant.

He looked back at the harbor, where the only vessels in
evidence were a navy frigate, a few fishing boats, and some American traders.
He had wild thoughts of abducting her and carrying her off to safety, but
Evelyn wouldn’t think much of his notions of safety. He didn’t think much of
them either. They included insane fantasies of Evelyn alone with him in a ship’s
cabin with only a narrow cot for furniture.

Alex turned his gaze back to the proud tilt of Evelyn’s
head. She walked with the hauteur of a duchess, but he had seen her smile and
greet a chimney sweep in the same manner as she would himself or the governor.
She was an amazing contradiction. It had been much easier to think of her in
the same terms as other women—as deceitful, manipulating liars. But he had not
yet caught her in a lie.

“Evelyn, have you considered what you will do if the judge
finds you guilty?” They had avoided the topic long enough. The trial was two
days away. He could not wait any longer.