The Forbidden Lady (15 page)

“I know where she is. She and Quin are hiding on his schooner.”

“What? Why?”

“The redcoats were after them.”

“My stars!” She paled and covered her mouth.

“Josiah told me about it. I’m sure they’re perfectly safe, but I wanted to relieve your concerns as soon as possible. I’m going there now to check on the situation.”

“I see. What do you have there, some food for them?” She gestured to the sack in his arms.

“No, dry clothes for Quin. Josiah said he swam to safety in the harbor. He’ll be needing these if he’s not already frozen.”

“Good heavens.” Mary grabbed her cloak from the peg on the wall. “I’m coming with you.”

W
hen he first kissed her, Virginia feared he was merely trying to put a stop to her nervous babbling. She had been experiencing a confused jumble of emotion, from the chilling possibility of being caught by the redcoats to the heated excitement at being trapped in a dark hole with the man she loved. A man who wore no clothes.

At first, she shivered when he pressed her down onto the cold wooden planks, but his heat soon seeped into her. His mouth moved over hers, demanding and hungry. No, he wasn’t hushing her up.

He wanted her.

She tried to think, but too many sensations bombarded her. His tongue invaded her mouth, his hands explored, his bare legs rubbed against hers. And something hard and thick strained against her.

She jerked away from his kiss with a gasp.

“Ginny, please.”

“I . . .” How could she say she had just now realized what the impediment was? She moaned with embarrassment. He must think her a fool. She was so nervous, so naïve. Her only experience in seeing a male prepared to mate had been with animals in daylight.

He laid his head on her chest. “I cannot bear it.”

She ran her fingers through his thick hair, wanting to comfort him but afraid where it might lead.

He exhaled, and his warm breath tingled her skin. “There’s no help for it. We will have to marry.”

Her hands halted their caress. “Marry?”

“Aye. I have too much respect for you to misuse you, and I will not bring a bastard into the world.”

She frowned into the darkness. So much for the proposal of her dreams—misuse and bastardy were so romantic. Was respect all he felt for her? No, obviously, he also experienced a goodly amount of lust. And a small amount of trust. He was beginning to confide in her. He had admitted to being a spy.

He raised his head from her bosom, and she knew he was waiting for an answer. She slipped her hands down his neck and across the smooth, bare skin of his shoulders. To be honest, she felt a goodly amount of lust, herself, and she loved him with all her heart.

She loved him enough not to entrap him. “Quin, if you’re feeling honor-bound by tonight’s events, ’tis not necessary.”

His grip on her shoulders tightened. “It
is
necessary. I want to marry. I want you in my bed.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Seems like a damned good one to me. Ginny, there are many good reasons we should marry. I . . . I need you.”

Her heart melted. That was, she suspected, as close as he could get to a confession of love at the moment. Without the benefit of growing up with loving parents, he had difficulty recognizing what he was feeling. In time, with the help of a loving wife, he would tell her what she wanted to hear. But for now, she had to be honest with him.

“Quin, because of my fear, I never learned how to do the chores that require a fire. I’m only now learning how to cook.” She felt his shoulders shrug underneath her hands.

“Eating is highly overrated. I’ve lived for days at a time on hardtack and grog.”

“But at home, they say I’m unfit for marriage.”

“They’re idiots. Will you marry me?”

She laughed, relishing his easy dismissal of her secret failing. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

“Good.” He tugged her bodice down to her waist.

She gasped. When had he untied her laces? “What are you doing?”

He untied her chemise and cupped her bare breast with his hand. “Celebrating.”

C
HAPTER
F
OURTEEN

E
dward helped Mary cross the makeshift gangplank onto the schooner he had secretly named for her. He wished he could divulge that secret, but the forbidden lady had become the angry, indebted lady, still impossible to pursue. Damn her father for using her that way.

Carrying a lantern to light their path, he escorted her along the deck. The cold night air smelled of burnt ashes and tar. In the distance, the charred remains of
The Sentinel
floated on the water like a blackened skeleton. Good riddance.

“What if there are redcoats still aboard?” Mary tucked the sack of dry clothing under her arm.

“I have every right to be here.” He led her down the stairs. “The ship belongs to Stanton Shipping.”

“How will you explain my presence?”

“Easy. You’re my guest for the evening. We’ve come to be alone.”

She narrowed her green eyes on him to let him know she was insulted. He turned away so she wouldn’t see his smile.

He set the lantern on the table in Quin’s cabin, noting the three pewter tankards and empty bottle of rum. “The redcoats were here.”

“Aye, they searched the place.” She dropped the sack of clothing onto a wooden chair. “But where are Quincy and Ginny?”

“Under here.” Edward grasped the trunk and gave it a yank. It moved slightly, then stuck fast.

He hunched down on the floor. “Quin, do you hear me?” There was a pause while he waited for a response.

Nothing.

He swallowed hard, not wanting to consider the possibility that the two had been captured. He yelled louder, “Quin, if you’re there, answer me!”

“Dammit, Edward, come back in the morning!”

Relief swept through him and he grinned. Quincy was all right. More than all right.

Mary stomped her foot on the wooden floor. “We will not go. Now you come out of there this instant and release my niece.”

“Aunt Mary?” A female voice sifted through the floor.

“Ginny?” Mary fell to her knees on the floor. “Are you all right, dear?”

“Yes. Uh, perhaps you
should
return in the morning.”

Edward snorted with laughter.

Mary swatted his shoulder. “This is not amusing. God knows what he’s doing to my innocent niece.”

Edward leaned close to her. “I could show you.”

She huffed. “ ’Twas merely an expression. I know quite well what he’s up to, and you should be ashamed of yourself for not teaching him better morals.” She raised her voice. “Ginny, you come out at once!”

“I’ve untied the ropes,” Quincy yelled. “You should be able to move the trunk now.”

Edward scooted the trunk away from the bed.

Mary rose to her feet. “Edward Stanton, are you a smuggler?”

“Not yet.” He hooked his fingers around the metal ring to lift the trapdoor. “But I’m glad these two had a place to hide.” With the door open, he spotted his naked nephew behind Virginia Munro, tying the laces of her gown. “Mary, hand me that sack of clothing we brought.”

She passed it to him with a suspicious glance at the smuggler’s hole. “ ’Tis black as pitch in there.”

Virginia stood up, her shoulders now level with the floor. She brushed her disheveled hair back from her face. “Good evening.”

Edward handed her the sack, carefully keeping his face blank. “I believe my nephew can use these.”

Virginia passed the sack to Quin, her cheeks bright pink.

Quin’s voice drifted up from the hole. “I’ll give her a boost. Then you can pull her out, all right?”

“Yes.” Edward grasped Virginia under the arms and with Quin’s help, he lifted her out.

Mary escorted her to the table. “You poor dear, trapped in that awful hole. Let me pour you a drink.” She bustled to the cupboard for clean glasses and a bottle of wine while Virginia rested in a wooden chair.

“I’ll have a drink.” Edward wandered over to the table. “Is it true, what Josiah says, that Quin is responsible for blowing up
The Sentinel
?”

Virginia nodded. “Yes, he attached the gunpowder using a submersible.”

“My stars.” Mary poured herself a drink and collapsed in a chair.

Smiling, Edward poured wine into the remaining glasses.

“I could use one of those.” Quin tossed blankets and a pile of damp clothing out of the hole. Dressed in blue woolen breeches and an unbuttoned white shirt, he heaved himself out of the hole. He padded to the table in his bare feet and grabbed a glass.

Edward patted him on the back. “You struck quite a blow for the cause. I’m relieved you two are all right.”

Mary snorted and crossed her arms. “That remains to be seen. Did he force you, Ginny?”

“No, of course not.”

“I’m not blind, young lady. Your laces are not properly tied. Your father will never forgive me if you’re ravished while in my care.”

“I was not ravished,” Virginia whispered. “I didn’t even experience one of those little deaths you told me about.”

Quin sputtered his wine. “Bloody hell! I’ll do better next time.”

Mary jumped to her feet. “There will not be a next time.”

“There will.” Quin slammed his glass onto the table. “Ginny has agreed to marry me.”

Mary gasped and collapsed back into her chair.

Allowing his elation free reign, Edward laughed as he shook his nephew’s hand. “Congratulations, Quin! I’m very proud of you.”

“Proud?” Mary asked. “He blew up a ship and ravished my niece, all in one night.”

Virginia frowned. “He didn’t ravish me.”

Edward finished his glass of wine. “I say we clean up here and return to Mary’s house. Quin, you may need an alibi for this evening. You’ll say you were visiting Virginia at her home and proposed to her there.”

Quin nodded. “Agreed.”

I
n the wee hours of the morning, Quin crept into his house, exhausted and hoping to sleep through the rest of the day. Overall, the night had been a success.
The Sentinel
was gone, and Virginia had agreed to marry him.

“A late night, old boy?” Clarence sauntered from the study, a glass of brandy in his hand.

“Aye.” Quin passed by him to the stairs.

“ ’Twas an exciting night. Quite a show those Colonial hoodlums put on. After the explosion, I went to the harbor to see the rumpus for myself, but I didn’t see you there.”

Quin paused with a foot on the first step. “I was at Mary Dover’s house.”

“Indeed? What a pity. I would have thought you’d enjoy watching
The Sentinel
burn.”

“I was occupied with another matter. You may congratulate me. Virginia Munro has agreed to marry me.”

Clarence pasted a cold smile on his face. “How fortunate.”

“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to bed.” Quin started up the stairs.

“Very well, since you have no interest in what happened at the harbor. Though you might wonder why Colonel Farley thought it necessary to search
your
ship.”

Quin stopped and peered over his shoulder. Clarence stood at the base of the stairs, his gray eyes gleaming with challenge. He lifted the glass of brandy slowly to his mouth.

Quin turned to face him. “Why would they search my ship?”

“Why, indeed?”

“I have no idea.” Quin continued up the stairs.

“Such a lack of curiosity. ’Tis not like you, old boy.”

“I’m tired.”

“Of course. The proposal must have been exhausting. It certainly was timely. A shame you didn’t dress better for the occasion.”

“Good night, Clarence.” Quin reached the top of the stairs.

“Sleep well, old boy. I’m sure the two painted rebels the British captured will not be sleeping tonight.”

Quin gripped the balustrade, hesitating only an instant in his stride.
Damn it to hell.
The two men were probably his friends.

He glanced down at Clarence with a bland look. “I hope they hang.”

S
hortly before noon, Quin woke and remembered. Ginny would soon be his wife. And two of his friends would not be at the wedding. He jumped out of bed to pull on his clothes. There had to be something he and Johnson could do.

He strode to the kitchen in search of coffee. Mrs. Millstead poured him a mug, setting it down with a clunk on the table. She returned without a word to the large pot of boiling water where she was washing clothes. Quin decided she must be protesting his interference with her duties.

Josiah and Samuel sat at the table, polishing silver. Josiah grinned at him, squirming on the bench.

Quin picked up his mug. “Josiah, I need to speak to you in my study.”

“That’s not fair. I’ll be left with all the work,” Samuel whined. “Me mum said if we finished, we could go see the rebels’ submersible.”

Quin paused at the door. “Submersible?”

“Aye.” Josiah jumped to his feet. “The British pulled it out of the water this morning. ’Tis at the town dock by Fanueil Hall.”

“Indeed? Perhaps I’ll go with you boys and take a look. But first, I need some food. Josiah, bring me a tray to the study.”

Quin sat at his drop-leaf desk, sipping coffee. So, the British had the
Turtle
in their possession. They could take the vessel apart, but there would be nothing to connect him to it. Only a few men knew he was the pilot.

Ginny and Josiah knew.

The boy came in with a tray of bread, cheese, and cold ham and set it on the walnut table. “ ’Tis cold, Master. Mrs. Millstead fixes a nicer tray for yer fancy brother.”

“It doesn’t matter. Have a seat and help yourself if you’re hungry.” Quin crossed the study and peered out the door before closing it.

He sat at the table next to the boy. “You did very well last night.”

Josiah grinned. “Not as good as you. That was splendid, the way ye blew up—”

“Josiah, I didn’t do anything. In fact, I wasn’t at the harbor. I was at Miss Munro’s house with her. Do you understand?”

“Oh. Aye, I do.”

“Now, even though you’ve done excellent work, I will no longer require your services in the evening. You’ll remain home from now on.”

Josiah bit his lip. “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing. I have simply realized I can no longer endanger you.” The boy looked so miserable Quin tried to cheer him up. “I have good news. Miss Munro and I will be married.”

Josiah’s eyes opened wide. “Oh, Master, that is fine news! Then she’ll be living here with me?”

Quin sat back in his chair. “No, you rascal. You’re too young for her. She’ll be living with me.”

The boy laughed and threw his arms around Quin’s neck.

Surprised, Quin patted the boy on the back. “Josiah, you must never tell anyone what you saw last night. Not only would they arrest me, but they could possibly arrest Miss Munro for aiding in my escape.”

“I won’t never do that, Master. I couldn’t stand to lose you or Miss Munro.”

Quin felt a strange twinge in his chest. He had purchased the boy to help him spy, without any qualms that he was risking Josiah’s life. Now he only wanted to protect the boy. He had an odd feeling he had experienced this before. A young boy who no one wanted and a man who cared for him.

He swallowed hard when he realized what had happened. He had become Uncle Edward, and Josiah was himself.

He surged to his feet and paced to his desk. He grasped his mug and gulped down some coffee. “Fine. Then you know nothing of the submersible, and you never saw Miss Munro or me at the harbor. We were at her house, making wedding plans late into the night.”

Josiah frowned at his shoes.

“What’s wrong?”

The boy grimaced. “I didn’t say nuthin’ about the submersible, but last night when I came in so late, Mrs. Millstead fussed at me and I said I was at the harbor with you.”

Saturday, December 16, 1769

T
he banns had been read thrice; the day had arrived. Virginia rode to her wedding in a rented coach, accompanied by her sister and aunt. George, dressed in the late Charles Dover’s best clothes, sat next to the driver.

Virginia smoothed out the skirts of her golden silk gown, mentally reviewing her list of preparations. Right now, Bostonians would be cramming into the Old North Church—Aunt Mary’s Loyalist friends and Edward Stanton’s rebellious friends and business associates. A group of musicians would be arriving at Concert Hall for the party while servants from two taverns and a bakery delivered food. Aunt Mary had worried over the cost of renting Concert Hall, but every other place was currently occupied with troops. Edward Stanton insisted on paying as a wedding gift.

“Now I feel even more indebted to that man. How will I ever pay him back?” Aunt Mary adjusted the hood of her blue woolen cloak as a gust of cold air blew through the coach.

Virginia pressed her hand to her chest, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe in spite of the crisp air that pinched her cheeks. It had snowed last night, but thank goodness, the gray skies had cleared by morning. The sun now shone bright on her wedding day. Certainly that was a good sign.

Mary fiddled with the tasseled cords that fastened her cloak under her chin. “And he will be at the wedding and festivities to follow. I canna bear this.”

“Please.” Virginia could feel her heart racing beneath her hand. “You’re not the one getting married today. I don’t know if
I
can bear this.” With all the preparations, the last three weeks had flown by so fast she had not realized the frightening truth.

Today, she attached herself to a man for the rest of her life.

Aunt Mary clutched her gloved hands together. “I knew it. This is happening too fast. You should have waited for Twelfth Night.”

Virginia winced. “ ’Tis a wee late to postpone it now. And Quincy was very adamant about doing it today.”

“Don’t worry, Ginny.” Caroline squeezed her hand. “Everything will be fine.”

“I wish Mother and Father were here. Dear Lord, they won’t even know. With all the rush, I forgot to write a letter.”

Caroline smiled. “I took care of it for you. I sent off a letter two weeks ago.”

Virginia let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you.”

“Papa will be so surprised. I told him you were marrying the man who wanted to buy you.”