Rebellious Heart (12 page)

Her mind spun but came up with nothing. She certainly couldn’t tell the lieutenant she was delivering a letter about a runaway indentured servant.

At the heavy slap of boots on the front step of the tavern, Ben lifted her hat, flung it on the table, and dug his fingers into her loose hair. “I hope you’re a good actress, Miss Smith.” His warm breath fanned her cheek, and his eyes turned stormy.

The seriousness in each of his clipped words sent a tremor through her. “Of course I am.” Had she brought them both to danger with her foolish trip?

“Then put your arms around me and act like you’re enjoying my attention.”

Hesitantly she lifted her hands to his shoulders.

The door scraped open.

And even though Ben had warned her, she was unprepared for the swiftness with which he brought his mouth against hers and the force of his lips as they crushed hers.

One of his hands pressed against the small of her back, giving her little choice but to arch against him. The other hand was intertwined in her hair, capturing her head and maneuvering her against the pressure of his lips.

The force of the kiss sent a torrent of flutters to her belly. Even though they were only acting, there was something about his fervor and the intensity of his hold that made her want to respond and almost made her forget she was only pretending.

She leaned against him, wrapped her arms around him, and let his lips guide hers with a passion that seemed almost more dangerous than facing Lieutenant Wolfe.

He broke away from her only to make a trail of kisses across her chin to the hollow of her neck. She closed her eyes and wanted to gasp.

The door slammed.

His mouth hovered in her ear, and his voice was strained and hoarse. “You have to hop up and act embarrassed.” He nudged her.

She broke away from him and jumped to her feet. With true mortification cascading over her, she took a rapid step away from Ben.

In their crimson coats, Lieutenant Wolfe and his assistant stood at the entrance of the tavern. The young redheaded soldier had the grace to divert his attention to his shiny black boots. But Wolfe stared with frightening boldness.

“Lieutenant Wolfe,” she said breathlessly, trying to infuse her words with surprise. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

“We decided we should make sure you delivered your
supplies
safely.” His gaze loitered overlong upon her lips, which tasted of Ben and were swollen from his kiss. “But you weren’t really delivering supplies, were you, Miss Smith?”

How could she answer the lieutenant without giving away the truth of the situation?

“What do you expect, Lieutenant?” Ben grabbed the tankard of cider and took a slurp. “She wanted to see me. You don’t blame her, do you?”

“And she must sneak around to do this?”

“What would you have us do when her parents oppose a poor country lawyer like myself?”

“You told me you were leaving town.”

“If I came here to see her, why would I leave before I’ve had the chance to do so?”

“You would have me believe the sole reason you came to Weymouth today was to meet with this woman?”

“I told you earlier when you rudely dispersed Mr. Arnold’s customers that I came to deliver the riding boots my father fashioned. For Miss Smith.”

Susanna trembled, whether from her contact with Ben or her fear of the lieutenant, she couldn’t tell.

The look in Ben’s eyes beseeched her to help him in the charade they were playing.

Her normally quick tongue felt stuck, and she fought to loosen it. “Lieutenant Wolfe, I don’t understand this line of questioning. We’ve done nothing to provoke you, and yet you’ve treated us without any respect.”

The lieutenant fingered the hilt of his saber sheathed at his side.

She lifted her chin and hoped he couldn’t see the alarm running through her limbs.

His lips twitched with a semblance of a stiff smile. “The king has given me the mission of eradicating illegal activity and weeding out dissidents. I’m sure one as loyal as yourself can understand just how difficult and unpleasant that task can be at times.”

“I’m sure it can be very difficult—”

“And it will go much easier for you, Miss Smith, if you have nothing to do with those who are involved in treason.”

“If I learn that anyone is involved in treason”—her gaze slid to Ben before she could stop it—“then I shall indeed heed your warning.”

Ben took another gulp of his cider.

The clatter of a kettle in the kitchen echoed in the emptiness of the taproom.

Mr. Arnold was obviously listening to them. She tried not
to think about how much fodder she was giving him to share with his guests, including her father, next time he came to smoke his pipe. She would be utterly mortified if he learned she’d been sitting on Ben’s lap, kissing him.

Ben lifted his tankard toward the lieutenant, toasting him and giving him what was nothing less than a smirk. “And of course I shall heed your warning as well.”

Wolfe’s saber inched out of its sheath.

The young soldier cleared his throat. “Lieutenant, might I suggest that we be on our way before the storm hits?” He nodded his head to the window. “From the way the wind is blowing, I’m afraid we’re in for a dangerous squall.”

Through the hazy glass, Susanna could see that dark, billowing clouds had begun to amass over the bay. She knew she ought to return home at once, but since she’d already put herself at risk to deliver the letter about Dotty, she may as well see it safely into Ben’s hands before she left.

With a last threatening glare at Ben, the lieutenant spun on his heels and stomped out of the tavern. The redheaded soldier tipped his hat at them and then followed.

For several moments after they were gone, Susanna couldn’t move. She watched them mount their horses and start down the coastal road, the wind whipping at the tails of their coats as the beginning fat drops of rain splattered the road.

Ben didn’t budge from his spot either.

In their quiet, peaceful community of Weymouth, she’d never had much interaction with the king’s soldiers. And now after her encounters, she had to admit, being around them was much more intimidating than she’d imagined.

She supposed she wouldn’t have anything to fear if she hadn’t been breaking the law. After all, the lieutenant was only trying to ensure obedience to the king as he rightly should.

With trembling fingers she combed back her wild tangled hair.

Was God trying to tell her she’d gone too far in her efforts? Perhaps she needed to issue more caution as Tom had suggested. On the other hand, Phoebe had admonished her that the only thing to be done was to help the young runaway.

Mr. Arnold stepped out of the kitchen and once again wiped his dry hands on his apron. “That was a close one, I’d say.”

Ben’s shoulders slumped. “Very close.”

“Do ye think he believed ye was here to visit Miss Smith?”

Only then did Ben turn to look at her, staring directly at her mouth.

She focused on the floor to prevent him from seeing her embarrassment over their moment of shared passion and the strange reaction it had produced within her.

“Lieutenant Wolfe is a very smart man,” Ben finally said. “We won’t be able to fool him. At least not for long.”

“Should I tell the others to go?” Mr. Arnold asked while peering out the front window.

The rain was falling harder now, and a flash of lightning lit up the darkening sky.

Ben nodded. “We’ll cancel our meeting for today. The storm will give them the coverage they need to disperse without drawing the lieutenant’s attention.”

Mr. Arnold returned to the kitchen.

“What
others
?” Susanna asked.

“I told you not to ask me any questions,” Ben said. “The less you know, the better. Remember, you’ve made it your duty to cooperate as fully as possible with Lieutenant Wolfe.” He shoved away from the table and stood.

“You don’t need to be so rude.” She didn’t know what she’d
done to anger him, but his attitude bordered on hurtful. “I only want to do my best to obey the king.”

He snorted.

She shouldn’t have come. Benjamin Ross was impossible.

“I’m sorry I thought you’d be willing to help me.” She grabbed her hat off the table and started toward the door, trying to push down the lump of disappointment that lodged in her throat. “I’ll be on my way.”

“You can’t go now. You won’t be able to outride this storm.”

“I’d thank you not to interfere.” She slapped her hat on. Without bothering to tie the ribbon, she reached for the door handle.

In two long strides Ben crossed the room and stuck his foot against the door, wedging it shut with the tip of his boot. “You’ll have to wait out the storm here.”

She spun to face him. “Excuse me, Mr. Ross, but you have no right to advise me. Not after telling me I shouldn’t have come and that I shouldn’t seek you out again.”

A booming crack of thunder shook the frame of the building. And a gust of wind beat against the windows, rattling the panes. She ought to stay, but she was too angry to admit it.

He examined her face, and the tight lines in his face softened a bit. “It’s not that I don’t want to see you, Susanna, because, God help me, I do.”

At the gentle confession she leaned against the door, suddenly conscious of the fact that they were less than an arm’s length apart.

“I like seeing you,” he whispered. The blue of his eyes darkened with something she didn’t understand but that set her heart tapping erratically. “I like being with you more than is good for either of us.”

When his gaze dropped to her lips, she could feel the warm pressure of his kiss all over again.

“But this place, this time, and all that I’m involved in—it’s dangerous for you.” He took a step back. “
I
am dangerous for you.”

She started to shake her head.

“I shouldn’t have made Lieutenant Wolfe believe we were lovers. Now he’s going to be even more suspicious of you.”

“I can only imagine the damage to my reputation henceforth when word regarding our indecent behavior spreads throughout the countryside.”

“We certainly wouldn’t want
your
precious reputation being damaged on account of me.”

“Not on account of
you
,” she said quickly. “Rather because of our . . . well, when I sat on your lap, when you—”

“When we kissed?” He quirked a brow. “I suppose you don’t want anyone to know you kissed a poor nobody of a lawyer like me?”

“Oh, stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She squirmed at the boldness of his words but tried to hide her discomfort. “You’re
not
a nobody. You know I don’t think that anymore now that I’ve grown up. Maybe it’s time you grow up as well.”

His lips curved into the beginning of a smile. “You’re a sauce bucket.”

“And you’re a wet handkerchief.”

The wind blew with a fury, whining down the chimney into the fireplace. A flash of lightning lit up the room, which had grown increasingly dark with the approach of the storm.

“So you’re not offended that I kissed you?” His voice was low and his smile widened.

“I hardly think that’s an appropriate question to ask a lady.” She fought against her own smile.

“I think you liked my kiss.”

“It was fair enough—”

“Fair?” He leaned a hand against the door next to her head. “Admit it, Susanna. My kiss was swoon-worthy.”

He was right, and he was altogether too close. She glanced at the unhooked buttons of his waistcoat, unwilling to let him see the truth in her eyes. “As hard as it will be to contain your kisses around me, I must ask that you do your best.”

He chuckled.

The sudden crash of breaking glass split the air around them.

She startled.

But Ben pushed his body against hers, shielding her from the shattering of the front window. Glass and debris flew into the room, followed by a roaring wind and driving rain.

“I think ye better take Miss Smith to the cellar,” Mr. Arnold shouted from the door of the kitchen. “Sounds like this storm wants to take me tavern apart board by board.”

The wailing wind thrashed at them as Ben led her around the shards of glass. He hustled her into the kitchen to a trapdoor in the floor that led to the cellar. She climbed down a ladder, and when her feet were planted firmly on the dirt floor, he lowered a candle to her.

“Stay underground until I come for you.”

“Aren’t you coming down with me?”

“I must help Mr. Arnold salvage his supplies before the wind blows them out into the sea.”

“But it’s unsafe. You could get hurt.”

“Why, Miss Smith, I think I detect concern. I’m touched.”

She was glad for the darkness that concealed the flush spreading over her cheeks. “Of course I’m concerned. For both you
and
Mr. Arnold. The
two
of you shouldn’t be taking any chances.”

“My dear girl, you can confess you had aspirations to get me alone in the dark and claim more of my kisses.”

“I will confess to no such thing.” Although the thought of such an encounter sent strange flutters through her middle. “Since you’re the one mentioning it, I have to believe those are your aspirations.”

He grinned and said nothing to deny her accusation.

Her stomach flipped.

Another crash echoed through the kitchen above. His brow furrowed and he backed away from the door. “Don’t come up, Susanna. Please.”

With that, he disappeared.

The cold dampness of the cellar wrapped around Susanna. Crude wooden shelves full of jars and casks lined the walls. Barrelsful of the rum and cider Mr. Arnold sold to his customers crowded the floor. Crates overflowed with apples, onions, and potatoes. The earthy scent of them mingled with the mustiness of the damp boards and stones that littered the floor.

She lifted the candle, sending its glow to the corners of the cramped space. To her surprise, one of the dusty shelves leaned away from the wall, exposing a large hole.

Winding her way through the maze of supplies, she investigated behind the shelf. Indeed there was a hole. In fact, it was more of a tunnel, certainly big enough for a grown man or woman to crawl into.

She held out the candle to peer into the chasm. As she leaned forward, she grabbed on to the shelf to keep her balance and was startled when the entire structure slid away from the wall farther, almost as if it were on wheels of some kind.

When Mr. Arnold and Ben had referred to the “others” earlier, was this where they’d been? Down in the cellar? Perhaps having a secret meeting?

She knelt and poked her head into the hole. She had the suspicion Ben wouldn’t tell her anything more about what was going on than he already had. Hadn’t he said the less she knew the better?

She glanced to the opening that led to the kitchen.

He was busy, likely closing shutters and attempting to protect any more of the costly windows from breaking.

He wouldn’t need to know that she’d taken a peek.

Yes, that’s all she would do. Just take a peek.

She discarded her hat, sank to her knees and, holding the candle with one hand, began crawling forward.

The tunnel sloped downward. The dirt was cold and damp, and the dim light of the candle revealed the misshapen but smooth path that didn’t appear to run farther than the length of the tavern.

In only a moment she reached the end and found herself peering into what appeared to be another dug-out cellar.

As the flickering light illuminated the cavern, she gasped.

The room was much bigger than Mr. Arnold’s other cellar, and it was packed with more barrels than she’d ever seen in one place.

Slowly she stood and smoothed her skirt. With trembling legs and a heavy, sick load pressing upon her, she held out the candle to the nearest barrel.

The print painted across the stave was in French. She tried to read the words, but her grasp of the French language was still frustratingly minimal.

Yet even as she stared at the barrels upon barrels, the sick ache inside deepened. If the containers had been purchased from the French islands in the West Indies, then that could only mean one thing.

They were likely filled with molasses that had been smuggled into the colonies. Prohibited, French-made molasses.

Susanna shook her head, hoping she was mistaken, that the barrels were empty, that they weren’t full of the illegal goods Lieutenant Wolfe was trying to locate.

Of course she wasn’t naïve. Everyone knew there were those unsavory traders who blatantly disregarded the law and had done so for many years along the coast. There were too many greedy merchants who thought only of wealth and were unwilling to pay the tax the king had levied upon the British molasses.

And yes, she understood that the colonies depended upon the molasses for many things.

But the men of Weymouth were God-fearing, law-abiding, and loyal subjects of the king. Were they not?

They wouldn’t stoop to illegal smuggling.

But as she looked around the chamber, she located another steep tunnel sloping away from the chamber. She guessed it led to the rocky coastline somewhere below the tavern and that somehow under cover of darkness the barrels of molasses were brought ashore, unloaded, and stored in the bowels of the earth beneath Arnold Tavern.

The smuggling was going on right here in her peaceful seaside town. In her father’s parish. Among men she’d known and respected her entire life.

“How could they?” she whispered.

“Susanna?” Ben’s voice came faintly from the root cellar on the other side of the tunnel.

And apparently Ben was involved in the smuggling.

From all he’d said, as well as what he’d left unspoken, she’d known he held seditious thoughts. But he was obviously much more involved in the illegal activities than she’d imagined.

“Susanna?” he called again, this time louder, his voice echoing in the tunnel.

What would she say to him? She couldn’t deny that she had wanted his advice—perhaps even his friendship.

But now?

He poked his head out of the tunnel. “What are you doing?” His voice was tight, and his eyes flashed with restrained frustration. “You shouldn’t have come in here.”

“Why? Because you didn’t want me to see your criminal activities?”

He crawled out of the tunnel and rose to his feet. In the darkness of the cavern lit only by the flickers of her candle, his shadow was tall and broad like that of a Greek Minotaur come to devour a helpless maiden.

The dripping of groundwater somewhere in the damp hovel told her the storm was still raging above them. But the deeper, darker storm brewing down under the earth suddenly seemed far more dangerous.

“I’m astounded by all of this.” She waved her hand at the barrels. “Here in Weymouth? It’s unthinkable.”

“Perhaps to someone like you who’s always been sheltered and had everything you’ve ever needed or wanted handed to you at your whim.”

“Perhaps to someone who thinks we should obey the law instead of bending it whenever we wish to fulfill selfish gain.”

“This isn’t about selfish gain.”

“Why else would you avoid the British taxes if not to fill your pockets with more money?”

He gave an exasperated sigh. “You obviously don’t know the first thing about the whole conflict.”

“Why? Because I’m an ignorant woman? Because I’m not as educated as you?”

“Now who’s feeling sorry for herself and in need of the handkerchief?”

“Well, if I’m not stupid, then I suppose you’ll tell me the truth about what’s going on here. Are you involved with the smuggling or not?”

He pursed his lips together and didn’t say anything.

“Your silence implicates you.”

He studied her for a long moment. “I’m not involved in the way you think.”

“I don’t know what to think.” She’d wanted to like Ben—had started to like him. And she’d wanted to respect him.

But how could she respect a criminal?

A rat scurried between two barrels, and she drew in a startled breath.

He nodded toward the tunnel. “Come on. We need to get out of here.”

She didn’t budge. “Why? So that Lieutenant Wolfe doesn’t discover what you’re doing?”

“We’re careful. He won’t discover anything.”

“He might now.”

Ben stiffened.

“I told him that I would report illegal activities to him.”

Ben started across the cavern toward her. In the flickering shadows, the hardness of his face and the blazing in his eyes had indeed turned him into a towering Minotaur.

She backed up a step and bumped into a barrel. “In fact, I distinctly remember telling Lieutenant Wolfe I would be the
first
to alert him should I become privy to criminal activity.”

He didn’t stop until he was mere inches from her. His presence threatened to overpower her.

She forced herself to stand her ground. “Would you have me lie to him?”

“I would have you stay silent, Susanna.”

“What you’re doing is wrong and I won’t stay silent about it.” She took a side step to maneuver around him, but he shifted and grabbed her arm, pinning her in place.

“You may not know or understand the oppression of the British,” he said hoarsely, “but there’s a heavy weight already upon our shoulders, and they would only increase the burden if they could to keep us as their inferior subjects.”

His breath was hot and his body tense, and she tried not to think about how close he was.

“You can try to justify your crime all you want,” she said, “but any knowledgeable statesman knows he cannot pick and choose which laws he’ll obey. If every person obeyed the law based upon his whims, we’d give birth to anarchy.”

“Sometimes in the course of history, man must look at whose laws he is obeying and determine whether they are just and right and merciful. If the laws are based on tyranny, for the good of only a few instead of for all, then it becomes the duty of man to institute fairer laws.”

He was indeed eloquent with his words, just as he’d been that day at the trial of Hermit Crab Joe. But that didn’t change the fact that smuggling was wrong. “You can speak all you want, Mr. Ross, yet you won’t convince me that breaking the law is justifiable.”

“Not under any circumstances?”

“Of course not—”

“Then you’ll have to reevaluate whether you really want to help that runaway indentured servant, won’t you? After all, aiding her is also an illegal act.”

His words stopped her rebuttal and unleashed the inner turmoil that had been growing since the day she’d discovered Dotty. She
did
want to help Dotty. Everything within her told
her she needed to comfort and shelter the young woman, that Dotty hadn’t deserved her cruel treatment.

On the other hand, the longer she hid Dotty and the more she assisted her, the more she was slipping down the slope of disobedience. And once started, where would it lead?

As if sensing the conflict raging through her, Ben’s tight grip on her arm relaxed. “I know everything I’m saying is difficult to digest, but all I ask is that you reflect on the issue before you take any action.”

She could only stare at him. She didn’t know what was right anymore. If she could find justification for breaking the law to help the poor girl, then why shouldn’t Ben do the same for something he felt was important?

He leaned closer. “Think about all the lives and families you’ll put at risk if you go to Lieutenant Wolfe and disclose our activities.”

Mr. Arnold’s voice echoed faintly from the root cellar.

Ben cocked his head. “Do you want to see Mr. Arnold and numerous other men hanging from the end of a noose?”

Of course she didn’t. She couldn’t imagine losing any more of the men of their community, not after the war, not after they’d already lost so many, not after seeing the way the poor widows had to struggle to clothe and feed their families.

“Very well, Mr. Ross,” she said. “I shall think very carefully before I take any action.”

Mr. Arnold’s voice called louder from the other side of the tunnel.

Ben took a step away from her.

And her heart pinched with an unexpected ache.

He’d been right. All that he was involved in, at this time, in this place—it was all too dangerous for her.

She had to stay away from him.