Rebel Dreams (31 page)

“Oh, no! They would not!” Evelyn said in horror. She had
feared they might be at her door by morning, but despite her nightmares, she
did not expect them a day early.

“I’m taking no chances. There are mobs forming in the
streets. Sailors and farmers are pouring into town, waiting to see what happens
tomorrow. Right now they’re satisfying themselves with heckling your uncle and
others of his ilk, preventing them from carrying out their duties, but
reinforcements have been called in. There will be British troops on the street within
the hour. Do you still have your boy’s clothes?”

“In the armoire. I did not think I would be needing them.”
She started running up the stairs, with Alex in close pursuit. “What are we
going to do?”

“Get you on that ship without anyone knowing. Let me see
what you have. It’s freezing out there.”

Evelyn produced the breeches, shirt, and jerkin that she
kept in the drawer, then pulled the faded broadcloth coat and fringed hat from
the armoire. “I don’t have any man’s gloves, but I will be fine. It’s broad
daylight, though. Are you sure this will work?”

Looking at her curving hips, Alex groaned and stripped off
his gloves. “It’s a damn good thing that’s a long coat,” he answered. “Take
these. Have you got a wheelbarrow or cart?”

Evelyn took the soft leather gloves, still warm from his
hands, and clenched them. “A wheelbarrow? I suppose, in the shed out back. What
will you do with it?”

“Haul trunks.” He left before she could inquire further.

She hastily divested herself of her gown and petticoats. It
seemed strange to be donning breeches again. These last two days playing at man
and wife with Alex had created some subtle change in her attitude. She liked
wearing feminine gowns and having men look at her as if she were attractive.
With Alex around, it had been easy to rely on him to take care of the business
world while she indulged in homemaking, or unmaking, as the case might be. She
shook her head at her stupidity. Once the marriage was annulled, she would
again be in the position of supporting the family. She had better not grow too
accustomed to relying on anyone else.

Buttoning her coat and pulling the loose-fitting hat down
over her ears, Evelyn clattered down the stairs to find out what Alex planned.

He came in the kitchen door rubbing dirt and cobwebs from
his frozen hands. Giving her attire a cursory inspection, he grimaced. “I can’t
imagine how in hell you ever thought you would pass for a boy. But with any
luck, no one will be paying close attention.”

Evelyn glanced down at her loose cotton shirt, brown
buttoned coat and breeches, and thought she had done very well. Her woolen
stockings sagged, disguising her legs, and her hat hid her hair. What more
could he want?

Alex drew his bare finger over the collarbone revealed by her
open shirt, his finger hesitating near the crucial fastening over her breasts. He
raised mocking eyes to hers. “Next time, we’ll have to find you a neckcloth.”

He said nothing more, but strode past her toward the stairs.
Evelyn remained where she was, feeling the path of Alex’s touch burning against
her skin, and acknowledging the heated sensation of her breast brushing against
the soft cotton. He could see beyond her crude disguise to the woman beneath,
and she felt naked at the thought. Even though they would not remain man and
wife, he knew her as a husband would, and she could never erase the memories of
those nights.

Her heated blush carried out into the cold as Alex threw the
larger trunk into the wheelbarrow and balanced a small one on his shoulder. She
had not finished packing the big trunk, so it weighed less than the little one.
She eyed her husband with skepticism as she drew on his gloves and watched his
ease of handling the heavy boxes. “Would it not be wiser to put both in the
barrow?”

Alex grinned and nodded toward the wooden handle of the
heavy cart. “I have my doubts that you can push that much, but we’ll have to
give it a try. No one in his right mind would expect to see Mrs. Evelyn Hampton
pushing a grubby wheelbarrow.”

As his audacious plan finally sank in, Evelyn glared at him
in frustration. Push a wheelbarrow! Of course no one would expect a lady to
push that heavy monstrosity through the street. Only a villain of the first
degree would think of it! Refusing to buckle under his mocking stare, she
wrapped her gloved fingers around the splintery wood and lifted.

The wheel was loose and wobbled hither and yon as she tried
to balance the awkward load. If she tilted it up comfortably to stand, the
barrow nosedived toward the ground. If she bent over to level it, her back and
arms strained to keep it balanced and moving. Cursing whatever madmen had
invented this demented instrument of torture, Evelyn shoved her unwieldy cargo
toward the street. Alex’s chuckle behind her only spurred her on.

Easily balancing his own burden on one shoulder, Alex walked
beside her, whistling as if it were a sunny day in June. Bent over the barrow
as she was, watching her load lest it tilt and spill, Evelyn relied on him for
directions. Occasionally Alex juggled his burden to reach out and push her hat
down more firmly against the rising wind. Avoiding the main streets, he took
the narrower alleys whenever he could, but the rutted dirt was no easier for
Evelyn to manage than cobblestones. She bit back her curses as Alex’s whistling
halted.

“I see uniforms ahead, little tyrant. We’re almost there.
Are you willing to take a chance?”

She felt as if her arms would fall off, and her legs shook
so badly that she wasn’t certain they would traverse the distance to the wharf
without collapsing. But freedom lay at the end of that street. She had to do
it. “I’ll pay you back for this someday,” she said from between clenched teeth
as she once more heaved the heavy load forward.

“And here I thought I was being helpful. I had every
expectation of vast rewards for my kindness in rescuing you this day. If you do
not appreciate my thoughtfulness, you can leave the trunk here and saunter on
down to the loading dock alone.”

“Viper,” she muttered, trundling the cart out toward the
wharf. “Devil. Bastard. Villain.” Each new bump of the wheel brought forth
another curse.

Beside her, Alex hailed one of the soldiers with whom he was
apparently acquainted. While he stopped to converse, Evelyn kept on trundling.
She dared not stop her momentum for fear she would never pick up her burden
again. The wind off the water whipped painfully at her cheeks, and she prayed
the overlarge hat would remain in place.

She found a sailor in a dinghy waiting for her. The man offered
a startled glance at her call, then hopped up the steps to lift the trunk from
the barrow. Behind them, Alex’s voice could be heard approaching, to the
accompaniment of more than one pair of footsteps. Not daring to look, Evelyn clambered
into the dinghy in a pretense of aiding the sailor in loading the trunk.

On the dock above, Alex continued talking to the soldier. “I
daresay we’ll take the evening tide,” he was saying nonchalantly. “Don’t want
to risk carrying an illegal load, you know. Evelyn’s at her uncle’s saying her
farewells. She’s been a damned good sport about all of this.”

“I suppose the earl took care of the fines?” the soldier
asked. “It’s a shame to treat a lady like that. You know, she must have been
tricked by some bounder. I never did believe she was guilty.”

The stranger’s voice seemed falsely sympathetic to Evelyn,
and she kept her head down as they drew closer.

A new voice joined the conversation. “You had a fine way of
showing it, Captain.”

Evelyn gulped, recognizing the newcomer as Sam Adams. He
would know her clothes if nothing else. She prayed he would have the wisdom to
remain silent.

“It’s water under the bridge, gentlemen.” Alex spoke lightly
but with an undertone of tension that Evelyn recognized as he attempted to
dismiss his companions. “I wish I were able to stay and see how all this plays
out, but I must own I’m eager to be home again. In case I do not see you before
we sail, it’s been a pleasure knowing you.”

“Are you taking that lad with you?” the captain asked in
puzzlement as he noted the wheelbarrow left on the dock and the boy in the
boat.

Sam Adams spoke up. “Mr. Hampton kindly offered to give me a
few books he brought with him from London. The lad’s to fetch them back for me.
These bones grow too old to take the icy wind on the water. Hampton, I expect
you and your wife to keep in touch. You’ll be sorely missed.”

After glancing into the dinghy, Adams clapped Alex on the
back. As Evelyn held her breath, the old man grabbed the elbow of the red-coated
officer watching with suspicion and steered him in the direction of the nearest
tavern. “Let us get in out of the cold and leave the gentleman to his
preparations. I do not envy him a voyage at this time of year.”

His voice trailed off as they walked away, and Alex finally
climbed into the dinghy with the second trunk. His hand brushed her hunched
shoulders. “I’m going for your mother now. Toby will see you to your cabin.
Will you be all right?”

Her silent nod had to be sufficient answer. Alex returned to
the dock as the tiny boat rowed out toward the great ship anchored in the
harbor.

With dread, Evelyn realized one of his majesty’s navy
frigates was in the harbor. It could give chase if necessary. And Alex still
had to get the rest of his passengers on board before the troops discovered she
was nowhere to be found.

Noon came and went before the
Neptune
was prepared
to sail. Alex boarded last. He waited at the rail as the canvas opened and the
anchor was weighed. The chilling north wind brought spitting snow, and
gradually, the soldiers slipped away from the wharf. The last of the idlers
transferred to the taverns and the mob to their homes.

The wind caught the canvas, the
Neptune
moved out, and
Alex heaved a sigh of relief. He felt like Gulliver escaping yet another
strange land. He was ready to return to the sanity of home.

The thought of home raised new problems. He had spent
foolish hours imagining having Evelyn to come home to, her laughing gaze and
no-nonsense manner sweeping the ghosts from the old hall and warming the rooms
with life. He could almost imagine enjoying his father’s isolated abode under
those conditions, but that fantasy had been dashed. An annulment would have to
be sought in London, not Cornwall. They would be in each other’s pocket in the
earl’s town house, but at least there were other amusements to distract them
until the deed was done.

He was getting too old to hunt new bed partners every night.
Wondering if the time had come to set up a mistress, Alex started for the
cabin. He would see his passengers settled, then find a suitable bunk and drink
himself under the table for the rest of the voyage.

Entering the passageway leading past the smaller cabins to
the captain’s dining hall, Alex encountered his first obstacle. Amanda
Wellington hurried toward him, a determined look upon her square face. Alex bit
back a prayer for mercy. Beneath her gentle, ladylike ways, Amanda Wellington
had nerves of steel and the flexibility of a fine-honed rapier. He had the
distinct feeling he was about to be skewered.

“There has been some mistake, Alex,” she began
inauspiciously enough.

Taking her elbow, he led her toward the larger space of the general
cabin. “I’ve been known to make a few in my time, Mrs. Wellington. Is there
anything I can do to correct it?”

To his chagrin, Alex found his noble cousin propped in one
of the chairs at the table, his feet up, and a bowl of shelled walnuts in his
lap as he eavesdropped with amusement.

“I certainly hope so. Your foolish captain has Evelyn
sharing a room with me. I know the accommodations are limited, but there must
be some way of managing this a little better. Perhaps he did not know you were
married?” she asked hopefully, not being able to state the matter any plainer.

Alex held his temper at the earl’s chuckle and tried his
best to placate this woman he admired and respected. “I told Captain Oliver to
give you and Evelyn the most comfortable cabin since you are the only ladies on
board, and the voyage is quite likely to be an unpleasantly cold one. I do not
wish to risk your health or Evelyn’s. That is my uppermost concern.”

Amanda smiled and touched her large son-in-law’s arm. “I
feared it was some such nonsense as that. I am happy to know that Evelyn has chosen
such a considerate husband, but you do not need to make such sacrifices for me.
I am healthy as a horse. If you will just have them move my things to your
room, you can move in with Evelyn, where you should be. A young couple needs to
have time alone together to cement the bonds that make a happy marriage.”

Alex contemplated telling her he bunked with the crew, but
he did not like lying to this woman. Besides, he greatly suspected she had
already surveyed the situation and knew precisely where his belongings were.
Before he could say anything, Cranville brought his feet to the floor and stood
up.

“I’ll go find someone to make the necessary transfer, Alex.
I believe your bride is looking a little peaked and may need some consoling. I
take it this is the first time she has been away from home.” This last was
meant to be an admonishment, and Alex accepted it with a bow.

Amanda patted his arm again. “I must find Jacob and try to
keep him out of trouble. Someday I hope I can thank you enough for what you have
done for us.”

She slipped away, leaving Alex standing there feeling like
the greatest cad in existence. He had done nothing but take what he wanted. Now
that he was trying to mend his errors, he tripped over lies and deceptions
everywhere he turned. To share a cabin for six weeks with a woman he wanted
more than life itself and not be able to touch her would be a living hell.
Surely his sins were not so great as to deserve such punishment.