The Forbidden Lady (19 page)

The judge frowned. “And which son would that be?”

Clarence laughed, glancing back at Quin. “The legitimate one, of course. Me.”

Judge Jeffries pursed his lips, looking Clarence over. “I see. I wasn’t quite sure which one of you is the bastard.”

Quin smiled at the affronted look on his brother’s face.

Edward rose to his feet. “Your Honor, we have prepared an inventory of all items that belong to Stanton Shipping.”

With a nod, the judge motioned to Edward to come forward. “That was very gracious of you. May I see it?”

Edward passed the paper to the judge and returned to his seat.

Quincy held his breath, waiting for the judge’s reaction. The plan could fall apart now if Judge Jeffries disagreed. The judge scanned the paper, blinked, and put on his spectacles for a closer look.

He looked over the top of his eyeglasses at Quincy and Edward with a glint in his eyes and twitch of his lips. “I see.” He removed his spectacles and folded them neatly. “The court gladly gives Clarence Stanton the right to do with Stanton Shipping as he pleases.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” Clarence bowed with a flourish. “Such a relief to know that justice can be served, even in this savage wilderness.”

The judge cocked an eyebrow at Clarence. “Aye, so it can. Though it seems a great deal of trouble to come all this way for a rowboat.”

Clarence straightened with a jerk. “A what?”

“A rowboat.” Jeffries offered the paper to Clarence. “Stanton Shipping consists of one rowboat.”

“The hell it does!” Clarence ripped the paper from the judge’s hand and quickly looked it over. “Your Honor, this is an outrage. Everyone knows Stanton Shipping is an entire fleet of ships with warehouses in several ports.”

Clarence’s solicitor jumped to his feet. “Let me see that.”

Clarence threw the paper at his solicitor and whirled back to the judge. “What has happened to the business?”

Jeffries shrugged. “It has obviously been sold.”

“But the money, the money is
mine!
” Clarence banged his fist on the judge’s desk.

“No one hits my desk but me.” The judge glared at Clarence. “The court in London gave you Stanton Shipping. You have it, sir.”

Clarence stamped his foot. “I have nothing! I’ve been robbed.”

“An odd complaint, considering what you were doing.” As Jeffries rose to his feet, everyone in the courtroom stood. “Now, I suggest you leave this savage wilderness to those who appreciate it. If you row real hard, you could be home by spring. Court is adjourned.” The judge turned on his heel and left the room.

Grinning, Quincy glanced over his shoulder to where Virginia stood with her sister and aunt. The business was safe. He could take care of his wife in the manner she deserved.

Edward chuckled. “Jeffries will have a good laugh with us at the next Freemasons’ meeting.”

Obadiah Winkle gathered his papers. “Congratulations, for now, but I have a feeling this is not over.”

“What have you done with it?” Clarence stormed over to Quin and his uncle. “The business is
mine
.”

Gritting his teeth, Quin stepped toward his brother. “It is gone, Clarence. You lost.”

“Never. Not to a bastard.”

Quin grabbed Clarence by the cravat and yanked him forward.

“Stop it!” Edward pushed between them. “You two are brothers. Dammit, I’ve had enough.”

For Edward’s sake, Quin dropped his hand and stepped back.

“You listen to me, Clarence.” Edward’s voice shook. “We have all lost. Quincy and I worked all our lives to build a business, and it is gone. Now go home and leave us in peace.”

Clarence stepped back, glowering at the floor. Edward and Obadiah Winkle passed by, headed to the exit.

Quin had turned to leave when he heard his brother’s voice.

“This is not over.”

He paused. “Give it up, Clarence.”

“How can I? Do you think I can go back to my father empty-handed? I
have
to deliver.”

Quin almost felt sorry for his brother, knowing the improbability of anyone ever pleasing his father. “He’s using you.”

Clarence’s face reddened. “No, he’s not. It will all be mine someday. No one will take it from me. Not even you.”

“It is yours now. Enjoy your rowboat.”

“Damn you, you’ve hidden the business somewhere. You wouldn’t sell it all.” Clarence moved closer. “I’ll find it, Quincy. And when I do, everything you own will be mine. Every ship, every sail”—his eyes shimmered as he glanced to the back of the room, where Virginia stood waiting—“every lovely bit will be mine.”

Quin’s blood ran cold. “Touch her and I’ll kill you.”

Clarence glared back with steely gray eyes. “We’ll see who dies, brother.”

Quin nodded once to accept the challenge. He strode toward his wife.
Damn that Clarence.
He wanted everything. Even Virginia.

He screeched to a halt with a staggering realization.

She was in double jeopardy. She possessed the body Clarence craved and the business.

“Are you all right?” Virginia asked him.

Good Lord, by signing his business to her, he had endangered her. How could he have been such a fool not to realize it?

“Quin?”

“Aye.” Was it his greed, his desire to keep what was his, that had blinded him to reality? He had made his wife a target.

“What’s wrong? I thought it went very well.”

He looked at his wife. How could he tell her? She would hate him for this. “Aye, it went well enough.”

“That look on your brother’s face was priceless. Caroline had a terrible time not giggling out loud.”

“Aye.”

“Aunt Mary is actually speaking to Edward today. She invited us to her house to celebrate. She and Caroline have already left with your uncle.”

Quin swallowed hard. Celebrate? If Clarence learned the truth, the easiest way to obtain the business would be to marry Virginia. Then, he could lock her in a hole somewhere and forget about her. No, he wouldn’t do that. He would keep her in his bed, servicing him.

“Shall we go? ’Tis a lovely day. Not too cold. I thought we could walk.”

“Aye.” Quin offered his arm and escorted her down the street. He should warn her of the danger, but how could he? From what he could tell, she was already unhappy with the marriage. She didn’t speak of it, but it seemed obvious to him.

Whenever he wasn’t home, she ran back to her aunt’s house and spent the day there. He was too cowardly to ask her about it, fearing she would bring up the notion of an annulment again. All he could do was show her how much he needed her each night. She responded sweetly to him in bed, but he could sense a sadness in her.

No, he couldn’t admit what he had done. He would watch over her carefully to ensure her safety. And he would watch his own back, for the only way Clarence could marry her would be if she were a widow.

Clarence would have to kill him.

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN

Tuesday, January 2, 1770

“J
osiah, take this to the Blockhouse Tavern.” Quin handed the boy a few coins. “And here is some extra if you’d like to buy a few suckets on the way home.”

“Oh, thank you, sir.” Josiah pocketed the coins with a grin. “What would ye like from the tavern?”

“Nothing. You’re to give the money to the Marine Society. They’re meeting tonight.”

Virginia looked up from her knitting. “You’re not going to the meeting?”

Quin shook his head. “No, I thought I’d keep you company.”

She frowned. “But you have to pay a fine if you don’t go. I’ll be all right if Josiah stays with me.”

“Aye, master.” Josiah stuck his chin in the air. “I’ll take good care of me mistress.”

“Take care of your errand first.” Quin watched the boy leave. He didn’t dare leave Virginia alone in the house with Clarence, and Josiah was not strong enough to protect her.

She put her knitting in a basket. “I could go to Aunt Mary’s and sup with them.”

Quin winced inwardly. Ginny spent so much time at her aunt’s, he was beginning to think she hated being in his house. He paced across the study. “I don’t mind paying the fine. It goes in the Box.”

“The Box?”

“Aye. The money is used to help families of captains who lose their lives at sea.”
That’s it.
Quin halted in midstride.

They would go to sea, sail away for a few weeks. Edward had said the house was rented ’til the fifteenth of the month. After that, the servants would be released, and Clarence would be without a home. Hopefully, his brother would return to England. Then Boston would be safe once more for Virginia and himself. Or relatively safe. There was still the rumor circulating amongst the Sons of Liberty that he had piloted the submersible. If that information reached the wrong ears, he might never be safe in Boston again.

He would check on their warehouses in different ports while Edward took care of business at home. Johnson would understand his need to leave for a few weeks. For that matter, he would tell Johnson he was ready to retire from espionage. Too many people knew about him. And while he was gone with Virginia, he would have time to convince her she had not made a mistake in marrying him.

The Forbidden Lady
was en route to the Caribbean at the moment, but the new sister ship was close to completion.

Saturday, January 6, 1770

V
irginia woke early and slipped out of bed to the icy dressing room, where she had hidden the packages in her trunk. Noiseless in her woolen stockings, she returned to bed and arranged the packages around her husband.

She slid between the warm sheets and inched closer to Quincy. His tanned arms lay on top of the covers, exposed to the room’s chilly air. How did he stay so warm when he slept in the nude? She brushed back a lock of dark hair from his brow. With only one wig left, he had decided to let his hair grow out. She ran her fingertips along his jaw, marveling at the prickly whiskers.

A dimple appeared amongst the whiskers. “And I thought
I
was insatiable.” He looped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

“Wait. We’re crushing your presents.”

He blinked and looked about him. “What’s all this?”

“Presents for you. ’Tis Twelfth Night.”

He yawned. “ ’Tis morning.”

“Aye, but I couldn’t wait. Open your presents.”

Frowning, he sat up in bed. “You didn’t have to buy me anything.” He opened the first one and pulled out two pairs of woolen stockings. He ran his fingers over the insteps, where she had knitted his initials into the pattern. “You made these for me.”

“Aye. They should fit. I made them the same size as your others.”

He opened another package. “You made this shirt?”

“Aye.” She smiled at the look of astonishment on his face. “Surely, you knew I could sew and knit.”

“I . . . I never thought about it. Edward and I always went to a tailor.”

“Oh, well, my work may not compare to a tailor’s.”

“No, these are very nice. Thank you. When did you make these?”

“I’ve been working on them at Aunt Mary’s house so it would be a surprise.” She laughed at the dumbfounded look on his face. “You do look surprised.”

He winced. “I am. I thought—never mind.”

“Here.” She handed him two more gifts. “These are from Aunt Mary and Caroline.”

He stared at them in his lap.

“Is something wrong?”

He touched them as if to verify they were real. “Why would they give me presents?”

Ginny’s heart ached for him. In spite of the whiskers on his chin and manly hair on his chest, he could still seem like a little lost boy. A boy who believed no one loved him. “Quin, you’re a member of our family now.”

She could see the movement of his throat as he swallowed hard. Aunt Mary had sewn an elegant cravat, and Caroline had embroidered two handkerchiefs with his initials.

He held them lightly as if they might take wing and fly away. “I don’t deserve this.”

“Quincy.” She touched his cheek. “You do.”

He pulled away. “No, I don’t. I’ve endangered your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“My brother, Clarence. He—”

“I know. He lusts after me, partly because I belong to you, but that’s hardly your fault. You musn’t blame yourself.”

“Has he said anything to you, touched you?”

“No, he just leers at me.” She shuddered. “I’ve been careful not be alone with him.”

Quin slipped out of bed to build up the fire. “Is that another reason why you go to your aunt’s so much?”

She hesitated. “Yes.” Clarence was not the only reason she felt uncomfortable in this house. She had an odd feeling that Mrs. Millstead and Samuel were watching her. “ ’Tis easier to sew at Aunt Mary’s. She has a full supply of needles and thread.”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “I left most of my supplies at home in North Carolina. I didn’t realize I wouldn’t be going back.”

Frowning, he came back to the bed. “You should have told me. When we arrive in New York, we’ll buy everything you need.”

“New York? Boston has everything I could need.”

“I have a surprise for you, too, Ginny. We’re leaving town today.”

“S
he looks just like
The Forbidden Lady
,” Virginia observed as Quin escorted her down the wharf. A biting wind blew the hood off her head and she shivered. Though she would miss her sister and aunt, she looked forward to sailing to warmer climes.

“Aye, she’s exactly the same, except for the name.” Quin stopped beside the schooner where the name was painted in dark letters. “I named her after you.”

“The Wedded Lady
?”

“Aye.” He shifted from one foot to another. “Do you like it?”

Virginia felt like telling him it was not her name, but he looked so hopeful, so worried. “Are you asking if I like being a wedded lady?”

His cheeks reddened. “I was wondering.”

She wrapped her hands around the woolen sleeve of his coat and nestled her head against his shoulder. “I love being with you, Quincy, and I love this ship.”

With a wide grin, he helped her cross the gangplank. “Let me show you the captain’s cabin.”

Below deck, he ushered her into their cabin and bolted the door.

“I don’t remember
The Forbidden Lady
having a bolt on the door.”

He shrugged. “It didn’t. I wasn’t married then.”

She wandered about the small room. Her trunk had arrived and rested next to Quincy’s at the foot of the bed. The smell of wood and varnish filled the air, mixed with the aroma of food in the basket on the table. The pinewood table, chairs, and trunk at the foot of the bed reminded her of the night aboard
The Forbidden Lady
, the night Quincy had proposed.

He removed his blue woolen coat and laid it over a chair. She started to remove her cloak, then changed her mind. The air in the cabin was very chilly.

She strode to the bed to make sure there were enough blankets. “Is there a smuggler’s hole underneath the bed?”

“Aye.” He approached from behind, slid his arms around her waist, and pulled her back against him. “Hopefully we won’t use it. The bed is much more comfortable.”

She could feel him swelling against her. “I have a feeling I’ll be trying the bed soon.”

He reached around her to remove her gloves.

“My hands will be cold,” she warned him.

He enveloped her hands in his own and nuzzled her neck. “I know a warm place for them.”

“Don’t they need you on deck so we can leave the harbor?”

“The first mate will take care of it.” He took off her cloak and tossed it onto a chair.

She watched the cloak slip onto the floor in a green woolen puddle. Her heart quickened, knowing the rest of her clothes would soon join it. His fingers tickled her back as he untied her laces.

“Where do you want to go,
chérie
? New York, Philadelphia, Norfolk, Charles Town?” He tugged her gown past her hips and went to work on her petticoats.

Her gown continued to slide down her legs. The skin on her arms tingled. “I want to go everywhere.”

“I’ll take you. We have our entire lives to explore the world.” He dropped her petticoats to the floor on top of her gown. “And explore each other.” He unlaced her corset.

She breathed deeply when her corset fell off. He hunched down beside her. His fingers crept up her calves, lifting her shift in search of her garters. She felt the pressure of his fingertips against her bare thighs and her garters loosen.

She looked down.

He was pulling her garters undone with his teeth.

She laughed. “Quincy. You look like a pirate.”

“I am.” He grinned as he rolled her stockings down her legs. “I’m planning my attack at this moment.”

“Oh? Is it going to be different this time?”

He snorted. “Saucy wench.” He yanked her shift over her head, leaving her naked in front of him. “I plan to lay siege to your defenses.”

“You’re going to starve me?”

Smiling, he motioned to the bed. “Lie down.”

She slid between the sheet and blankets. Lying flat on her back, she drew the blankets up to her chin. “Don’t you plan to undress?”

“In due time. This will not do.” He seized the blankets and ripped them off the bed.

“Oh, dear. I’m all aquiver with fear.”

He chuckled as he sat beside her. “I’ll have you quivering soon enough, madam.” He touched her lips with one finger, then outlined them. He ran the finger down her throat, between her breasts and across her belly.

Her skin
did
quiver. She winced as he buried his fingers in her curls. With small circles, he rubbed against her. She closed her eyes as all sensation centered on his fingers.

“Have you ever seen a castle,
chérie
?”

She opened her eyes. “A what?”

“A castle. ’Tis built for defense. Much like you.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Then follow the path of my fingers. Can you feel me?”

“Yes.” She tilted her hips toward him.

He slipped his hand between her legs and traced her with his fingers. “This is the outer wall. ’Tis the first line of defense, thick and well-padded.”

“Yes.” She opened her legs wider.

“I see you are surrendering the outer wall.”

“Good Lord, yes.”

“Now, this—this would be the outer bailey. Very warm and protected.”

She sighed and nestled her backside against the freshly washed sheets. His fingers glided easily as she responded with moisture.

“And now we approach the more sensitive areas of defense. This, madam, is where the battle will be decided.”

“Blast you, Quincy, you’ve already won.” She lifted her hips, pressing against his hand.

“Patience,
chérie
. This is the inner wall, so much more delicate than the outer one, is it not?”

“Oh, yes.”

“But I know how to break through this wall. You see, there’s a secret portal here. If I apply the right amount of pressure, all hope is lost, so sensitive it is to my touch.”

She groaned, clutching handfuls of the sheet in her fists.

“Is that a surrender,
chérie
?”

She glared at him. “Yes!”

“Then, madam, I shall invade your keep.” He inserted a finger inside her.

“Oh, please.” She reached for him, wanting him inside her.

“Patience. I’m not done.” He leaned down and tasted her.

She jerked to a sitting position. “Quincy, what are you doing?”

“You even taste like a mermaid.”

“What?”

He pushed her back down. “You have surrendered, madam. I may do as I wish.”

She gasped for air through gritted teeth as he retraced the paths his fingers had made with his tongue. The spasms struck her suddenly with such force, she lay speechless and helpless, unable to breathe. When she finally took in air, she noticed him frantically unbuttoning his breeches. He plunged inside her.

“Quincy? You’re still dressed.”

He clenched his teeth. “I couldn’t wait.”

Smiling, she wrapped her arms around him. “Is that a surrender,
chéri
?”

T
he Boston Burglar spread his stash of jewels on the walnut table. He sipped his brandy as he admired the shimmer of emeralds, rubies, and diamonds in the flickering candlelight.

So Quincy had run away, the baseborn coward, and taken his delectable bride with him. The fool. With the bastard gone, it would be even easier to sneak into his room and plant one of the stolen jewels amongst the fancy clothes he had left behind.

It was strange, though, that Quincy went on a journey leaving his best clothes in Boston. Also strange that he sneaked out of the house on his wedding night, dressed like a poor man. Quincy seemed to completely lose his dandified behavior when in the company of Virginia or that boy, Josiah. What was the bastard up to?

The burglar enjoyed a pinch of snuff from his silver engraved snuffbox and brushed a few bits of the powdered tobacco from his claret velvet sleeve. Too bad he would have to cease his secret profession while Quincy was out of town. He selected an emerald ring from the table. An excellent piece. A shame he would have to part with it. But it would be worth it if it incriminated Quincy as the burglar. Not only would he, the real thief, be safe from capture, but Quincy would hang. And Virginia would be his.