by Becky Lower
He breathed in the polluted air of London as he trod over the cobblestones to the man's brownstone. He knocked on the shiny black door and waited. A bit of fog was descending over the city and he wished to return to his ship before London was blanketed completely.
The door popped open, and a servant blocked the entry. “May I help you?”
Daniel took the letter from his pocket. “I have a letter for Lord Worthington from Major Longfellow in the colonies. The major insisted I deliver it directly to him.”
“Lord Worthington is preparing to leave for the evening, but come into the foyer and I'll inform him of your mission.” The butler waved Daniel inside.
He glanced at the overwrought furnishings in the foyer, and at the marble floor. The entire room bordered on garish, with gilt being the predominant color. Even though the gold accents were overpowering, when Daniel pictured Pippa in this room, the gilt faded into nothingness. Her sparkling personality would outshine even the finest gold.
Lord Worthington appeared, rousing Daniel from his musings. The lord’s cravat hung loosely around his neck. His jowls wiggled as he shook his head. He'd obviously had his toilette interrupted. He clasped Daniel’s outstretched hand. “Good evening, sir.”
Daniel took a whiff of the man’s rosemary-scented after-shave. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but Major Longfellow gave me explicit instructions to hand-deliver a letter to you.” He handed over the missive to Pippa’s father.
The lord barely glanced at the letter before handing it off to his manservant. “If Walter’s asking for money, he’s barking up the wrong branch of the family tree. Thank you, my good man. Is that all? I’m rather in a hurry to get to the club.”
“Yes, sir. Again, I apologize for the interruption. Enjoy your evening.” Daniel bowed and followed the butler to the front door. When he once again hit the cobblestones, his gait was lively as he headed back to his ship. He had not revealed the contents of the letter and, from all appearances it appeared the letter would remain unopened, at least for tonight. So Pippa’s secret would be safe for a while longer, at least.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Pippa stared at the ceiling. So far, her Boston experience had given her only a colossal headache, except for those few snippets of time when she was with Daniel. If she had to attend one more afternoon tea with Aunt Bernice, or to fend off the attentions of Colin one more evening, she’d go mad. Her jaw ached. She jumped up from bed, grabbed the final cheroot from the stash she’d methodically pilfered from Uncle Walter, and cracked open the window, letting in the September night air.
She needed to address the issue that was Colin. An issue of her own creation, true, but nonetheless, annoying as bloody hell. His kisses were getting better, but they caused no special sensation in her body. No sparks, no uncontrollable urge to unclothe the man. She hoped when Colin finally met a woman who did have the uncontrollable urge to unclothe him, she would appreciate the kissing lessons Pippa had given him. But she now needed to put some distance between them. Last night, he'd presented her with a necklace and insisted she wear it to the dinner party they were attending. He fastened it around her neck and whirled her around, holding onto her arms. His gaze lingered on the bauble nestled in her cleavage.
“Beautiful. But it needs a bit of adjusting.”
She smirked. “Are you referring to the necklace or to me?”
Before she registered what he was doing, his fingers glided over the top of her breasts and latched onto the pendant. She stepped out of his embrace and swatted him with her fan. “I love the necklace, Colin, but you’re overstepping.”
He tried once more to embrace her. “I cannot help myself around you, Philippa. You’ve bewitched me.”
She waltzed away from him and held him at bay all evening. When the newest man at the dinner table, Jeremy Small, asked her to join him on the terrace after dinner, she accepted his arm without a backward glance at Colin.
“What part of England do you hale from, Private Small?” She sincerely hoped he wasn’t small.
“I’m just a country boy from Yorkshire, my lady.” He removed her hand from his arm but held onto it for a minute longer than necessary while he gazed into her eyes. Never once did he glance at her necklace or her bosom. A good sign. Then, he winked at her. “Has the lieutenant been giving you a hard time?”
Pippa inhaled. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off you all during the meal. In fact, several times, his fork even missed his mouth.” The private’s face crinkled with laughter. “I thought you might need a rescue. Even though it might put my career in jeopardy to enrage a superior officer.”
She patted his arm. “Thank you for taking such a gamble with your future. You are correct in your assessment. The lieutenant has become far too familiar with me.” She locked her gaze on him. “I hope you can provide a distraction.” She really hoped he wasn’t small. Then the realization struck. She didn’t care one way or another.
“It would be my honor, my lady.”
So, Colin was a problem in need of a solution, which may or may not be Private Small. Pippa stood at the window, gazing out on the Boston night. Toying with members of the British Army had not been part of her plan when she jumped aboard Daniel’s ship, but it appeared to be all she was good at. Her big plan to spy on the Americans and report her findings to her uncle had set sail with Daniel. And he wasn’t due back for weeks yet.
• ♥ •
Shortly after dousing her cheroot, she’d hatched her plan. If adventure wouldn't come to her, she'd go to it. Pippa’s skin prickled, more from excitement than from the coarseness of the fabric as she tugged out her boy’s clothing once again. She could pile her hair up under her tweed cap, put on her trousers, and become the young man she’d pretended to be for months aboard ship. Everyone but Daniel and Ben had bought her disguise, so wandering into a tavern and asking for a drink shouldn’t arouse suspicion. Perhaps she could pick up some nugget of information from the Americans who were imbibing, which would help her uncle hasten this conflict to an end. But, even if she overheard nothing of interest, she’d be doing something exciting, something other than the boring events Aunt Bernice planned for her. Or staring at the ceiling. A tankard of grog was almost as appealing as a good cigar. Almost.
Certain everyone in the house had settled for the night, Pippa tiptoed down the stairs, careful to place her foot on the right side on the third step from the top, otherwise it squeaked, and opened the back door. It squeaked ever so slightly when she opened it and she winced at the sound. She paused in the doorway to make certain no one had been alerted before closing the door. Her heart beat faster against her ribs as she strode toward the nearest tavern. Aunt Bernice had pointed it out to her on one of their rides through town as a den of inequity. Just what Pippa was looking for.
She slid inside the establishment, which smelled of men, sweat, beer and tobacco. No one noticed her. So far, so good. She sauntered up to the counter and lowered her voice. “A mug of ale, please.”
The bartender slid a foaming mug down the bar to her. She nabbed it before it slid by her and threw some coins on the counter. She had no idea how much the ale cost, but she figured the man wouldn’t say no to real British coin. He threw her a glance and quickly scooped up the money with only a slight rise of his eyebrows.
She nodded toward the man and then pivoted away from the bar, mug in hand. Her legs were wobbly, and she needed to sit. Someplace inconspicuous, in the shadows, where she could melt into the background and overhear bits of treasonous gossip without drawing attention to herself. She selected a small, empty table near the door and sank into the crude wooden chair, surveying the customers as she brought the frothy cool liquid to her lips. The center table drew her attention, as did the man who held court there. He sat straight in his chair, unlike the other men at the table who slouched in all directions. His hands sliced through the air as he spoke. Pippa leaned forward, hoping to hear the conversation b
ut the noises from the other patrons drowned him out. She needed to get closer.
Leaving her ale at the table, she stood and approached the group. The dark-haired leader glanced up at her, his eyes narrowing.
“What do you need, boy?”
“I, uh, hoped one of you gentlemen would be willing to share a cheroot with me. I have money.” Pippa dug into her trouser pocket and presented some coins.
The dark-haired man took a coin from her palm, peered at it, then at her. “You have no American money? Only English?” He handed the coin back to her and curled his lip.
“Aww, Sam, don’t be such a hardnose.” The man sitting next to him took the coins from her palm. “I’ll be taking yer money, laddie, and be happy to give you a cigar, even though you don’t look old enough to smoke or drink.” He tugged a cheroot out of his pocket and handed it to her.
The man called Sam remained silent while Pippa leaned over the table and lit her cigar from the candle. “Thank you kindly, gentlemen.” She backed away and returned to her table and her drink with a smile on her face. None of the men had pierced her disguise. Her stomach fluttered as she leaned back in her seat and blew splendidly round smoke rings into the air. The tavern had started to clear out as the night grew longer. She glanced around the remaining patrons and her heart skipped a beat. Colin and Jeremy had just strolled in. With so few remaining in the place, they’d notice her. Would they be able to see through her disguise?
She doused her cigar butt in her remaining ale and rose on shaky legs. If she’d be able to slink out of here before they caught a glimpse of her, she’d breathe a lot easier. She averted her gaze as she skirted past Jeremy and Colin. A hand grabbed her wrist.
“What’s your hurry, boy?”
Pippa glanced into the gleaming, hungry eyes of Jeremy Small. She took a breath and tried to shake her arm free of his grasp. Whether he’d recognized her or whether he just preferred young boys, she couldn’t guess. But either way, she needed to get away. “Let me go, sir.” She shook her arm again and readied herself to deliver a kick to his groin.
“Let the lad go.” The man called Sam had risen from the center table and now stood between Jeremy and Pippa. He tugged her arm free of Jeremy and faced Pippa, who peered up at him. “Run along now, boy. You’re safe from this lecher. At least for tonight.”
Jeremy punched Sam in the shoulder. “I’m just having some fun with him, Adams. No need for you and your Sons of Liberty to get on your high horse.”
Sam punched back. The other men who had remained at his table rose as one, their chairs squealing across the wood floor, and formed a circle around Sam, Jeremy and Colin. Pippa backed her way out of the tavern.
She stopped outside the tavern to draw a breath, and placed her head up against the wall. From the sounds emanating from within, a free-for-all had broken out between the men. She scurried down the vacant streets toward her aunt’s house, her mind replaying her narrow escape. She hadn’t picked up any gossip, which had been her sole reason for taking such a risk. All she’d done was figure out Jeremy’s true leanings, be saved by an American named Sam Adams and his band of men, and caused a ruckus in the tavern.
All in all, not a bad night’s work.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Daniel’s heart rate sped up, as it always did, when the lookout in the crow's nest called out, “Land, ho!” His beloved America was within sight. He sniffed the air, discerning the difference between the open sea and the scent of land. The journey across the Atlantic had been pretty rough. They fought through one particularly vicious storm, losing a mast in the process, and the extremely rough waters had made the best seaman lose his breakfast. There would be no more crossings until Spring.
He squinted into the weak morning sun, hoping to see a spit of land for himself. His grip tightened as he held onto the wheel. Early October was usually his most favorite time of year. He could enjoy the turning of the leaves while he and his men repaired the broken mast and got the Gladys Maria in shape for next season. He could spend some quality time with Emma. He would have to leave her Christmas presents on board, since she would quickly find them if he took them to the small home where his in-laws lived. He’d pick one small item to take home to her now. Whatever he’d give her wouldn't begin to make up for the time they’d spent apart. He could swear she grew inches every time he came back to her. Of course, he had no comparison, since the measure they’d always used was in the closet of her room. At the home now being occupied by Major Longfellow. In the bedroom now inhabited by Lady Philippa Worthington. He wondered if she'd even noticed the crude markings in the doorjamb. If it would even dawn on her that the house belonged to someone other than the British government.
But before he could lay eyes on his daughter, he had to deliver the missives from his secret compartment to the major. Which meant possibly seeing Pippa. He tempted danger each time he cracked open one of those sealed set of instructions and read them before resealing them with his hand-carved copied seal and wax. So far, no one had raised an eyebrow at the tampered documents. His heart, which had settled back into its normal rhythm once he’d spied land, now beat erratically anew at the thought of seeing his temptress. It had been over two months since he’d last seen her. Had she solidified a relationship with the lieutenant who had been following her around with his tongue hanging out? Daniel shook his head. If what she yearned for was a sensible, balding, British fellow, why didn’t she just stay home? She could have cajoled her father into giving her yet another season in which to ensnare a proper husband. Surely, there had been another way around his arranged marriage. Her father had appeared prosperous enough to care for his daughter properly. But Daniel was well aware looks could be very deceiving.
Ben appeared alongside and took over the wheel duty from Daniel. “We’ll be outside the harbor this afternoon. Looking forward to getting my feet back on solid ground, especially after this trip.”
Daniel tore his gaze from the land and grinned at Ben. “I agree. Losing that mast really slowed us down. We should have been home two weeks ago. I’m eager to see Emma.”
“Not to mention seeing Pip again, too.” Ben chuckled.
Daniel’s grin widened. “I’m curious how she’s adjusted to life in Boston. If she’s begun to see what all the fuss is about yet.”
Ben rolled his massive shoulders. “Well I, for one, would be glad if the Brits can't figure out what all the fuss is about, and head back to England. I’ll gladly make another voyage if it means taking more of them home.”
“Right now, Ben, they’re keeping us employed.”
“Right-o, Cap’n. And if some of their bullets or gunpowder don’t survive the trip, so much the better for the colonists.” Ben cackled.
Daniel's grin faded as he compressed his lips together. “I don’t want you to be involved in this, Ben.”
The man stared at Daniel. “I’m an American, same as you, so I can’t help being involved.”
Daniel shook his head. “No, Ben. It’s too risky. I’m doing this for Emma, so she can grow up in a free nation. You have no children.”
Ben puffed his chest up. “Doesn’t mean it will always be that way, Cap’n. Your little Emma has wrapped my heart around her tiny finger. I want a little girl of my own someday.” His fuzzy gaze became a leer. “And a proper wench to have those babes with.”
Despite his grave thoughts, Daniel laughed. “Well, then. Happy hunting for that wench. We won’t sail again until March.”
Daniel took over the wheel again and guided the Gladys Maria into the waters outside the crowded harbor where he dropped anchor. He’d wait for the slack tide tonight to bring the ship into the harbor and dock her. The unloading could wait until morning. He’d take his most important items and row in from here now before he returned to guide the ship into the docks. He had to deliver his missives to the major first. Along with his requested two boxes of cigars. Pippa must be helping herself to one of his prized cheroots every night. He grinned as he headed out
to his old home, his heart pinging and his mouth watering. Pippa awaited. Hopefully, anyway. She’d been right about giving him the image of herself to take on the voyage with him. Every time he lay in his hammock in the cabin, he’d glanced at the floor where she’d slept and wonder if she’d still be a free woman by the time he returned.
• ♥ •
Daniel’s muscles tensed every time he had to knock at the entrance to his home and wait for a British soldier to open it and allow him access. Especially when the British soldier was the balding lap dog, Lieutenant Benson.
He swallowed the bile that had risen to his throat and gave a quick salute. “Good afternoon, Lieutenant. Is the major in? I have some letters for him.”
“He's been expecting you for weeks, man. What took you so long?” The lieutenant tugged on Daniel’s arm and led him into the parlor.
Daniel shrugged off the man’s grasp and held the cigar boxes tighter. “We lost a mast during a particularly violent storm, so our return trip took longer than expected. Is something amiss?”
“There’s always something amiss, especially now that Lady Worthington is here.” The lieutenant placed a hand on his chest.
“Is the lady causing trouble?”
The lieutenant got control of himself and took a step away. “No, Lady Worthington can’t help the reaction she causes among men. She is a rare English beauty.”
Daniel quickly put things together. “Ah, has she charmed her way into more than one heart then?”
The lieutenant nodded slightly and backed out of the room. “I’ll tell the major you’ve arrived.”
“My, my, Pippa. You have been a busy young lady,” he whispered as his hand drifted over the walnut window casing and he inhaled the lemon oil polish. At least the home was being taken care of. The major hurried into the room.
“Ah, there you are, Captain.” He motioned for Daniel to follow him into the library. “So, you had a spot of trouble on the return trip, I hear?”