The Forbidden Lady

by Kerrelyn Sparks

She wondered why he spent so much time with the man who had announced his illegitimacy to all of Boston. “Do you get along well with your brother?”

  “ ’Tis better to keep the enemy under close watch.”

  “You call your brother an enemy? Is that because of the rumor he spread about you?”

  “ ’Tis no rumor. I am a bastard.”

  She winced at his sharp tone.

  Frowning, he studied his shoes. “I should go. Thank you for your help with Josiah.”

  “You’re welcome.” No wonder he refuses to confide in me. Trust had to be difficult for a man when he was rejected by his father and his brother was his enemy. “Will you be at the Ashfords’ ball next week?”

  “Aye. ’Tis a ball for Tories.”

  “Or those of us pretending to be Tories.”

  He placed a foot on the bottom step, leaned forward, and took her hand. “No more spying, Ginny, please.”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.” He pressed his mouth to her hand and strode away.

  She closed the front door and rested against it, deep in thought. Quincy Stanton had been a puzzle from the day he had tried to purchase her, but she felt she was beginning to understand him. He was a mixture of pride and doubt, of strength and pain. He needed love, but was afraid to trust in it. He was a challenge, but definitely a worthy one. And she was falling in love with him.

  Monday, November 6, 1769

  “I feel it would be best for me to quarter here in your home,” Captain Breakwell announced.

  Virginia gulped. She had been surprised when the captain arrived uninvited at her door close to midnight, but this latest statement astounded her. “I cannot believe we’re in that much danger.”

  “Did you go out this evening?”

  “No, Aunt Mary said we should stay inside because of the celebration.”

  “Aye, Pope’s Day, they call it.” William sat across from her on the settee. “I have been there, and I can tell you ’tis nothing more than two unruly mobs trying to kill each other.”

  “Surely, ’tis not that bad—”

  “Your aunt can tell you I’m not exaggerating. A few years ago, the mobs killed a young boy. Ran him down with a cart or some such nonsense. These Colonials are barbaric! You should not live here amongst these savages.”

  As shocked as she was by the death of the boy, Virginia felt increasingly vexed by the captain’s opinion of her countrymen. “I would not call them savages, William.”

  “Do you know what they did? First, the groups from the north and south sides of town swarmed each other, trying to get each other’s effigy of the Pope. Then, they dragged the effigies to the gallows at the Neck to burn them.”

  She shrugged. “ ’Tis a simple demonstration against Catholicism.”

  “There were thousands of them, as wild as animals. At least they were fighting each other, but if they gang up against us—I’m telling you, Virginia, if they turn against the mother country, this will not be a fit place for a dog to live.”

  She rose to her feet. “This is a fine country, and there are many well-educated, intelligent Colonials.”

  “I doubt their intelligence when they purposely incite these mobs to violence.”

  “They have legitimate complaints. No one should have to live under tyranny.”

  William rose to his feet. “Tyranny? Surely it is better to live safely under one tyrant who is three thousand miles away than to live under the threat of three thousand tyrants here. These people cannot possibly manage to rule themselves.”

  “I will take my chances here.” She took a deep breath and sat down. “I am sorry, William. We simply do not agree.”

  “I had not realized you had such feelings for this country.” He sighed and wandered about the room. “I can hardly blame you. ’Tis the only country you know.” He stopped to stare out the window. “My father plans to marry me off to an heiress back in England. I had hoped to thwart his plans.”

  “You do not wish to marry the heiress?”

  “No. We’re not suited, but my father thinks we need the money.”

  “I certainly don’t have much in the way of a dowry, but there are other young ladies in Boston who do.”

  He shrugged, still gazing out the window. “I have other plans for acquiring the money I need. Still, I would like to return already married so my father cannot force me to his will.”

  “I have no doubt you can be successful. I’ve been told you are a good catch.”

  He peered back at her. “But you do not believe it?”

  “I do, truly. ’Tis merely that I am . . .”

  “In love with someone else?”

  She studied her hands in her lap as heat invaded her cheeks. Was she that obvious? No, she couldn’t be. Quin didn’t seem to know. But would he recognize love if it grabbed him by the nose and shook him?

  “I hope he knows how fortunate he is.” With a curt nod of his head, Captain Breakwell paced toward the front door. “Good evening, Miss Munro.”

  Saturday, November 11, 1769

  “I’m so envious of you, Ginny.” Caroline sighed dramatically as they rode in a carriage. “You have two suitors vying for your hand. Perhaps, if you’re lucky, they’ll fight a duel for you.”

  Virginia winced. “I certainly hope not. Besides, I wouldn’t say I have two suitors.”

  “Of course you do. Now if I were you, I’d take Quincy Stanton. He’s absolutely perfect.”

  Virginia couldn’t help but wonder by what criteria her sister judged perfection. “Why do you think so?”

  “He sends presents. The oranges were nice and the book was wonderful. And the chocolate he sent us this week—well, any man who gives you books and chocolate must be perfect.”

  Aunt Mary laughed. “I believe you are correct.”

  Virginia’s heart beat faster as they approached the Ashford home. Perfect or not, Quincy Stanton would be there. This was the house where she had followed him upstairs and he had slipped his thumb into her neckline. Something even more exciting could happen tonight.

  She smoothed out her skirts, hoping the ride in the rented carriage would not cause wrinkles in her new gown. A white-and-gold brocade panel across the front of the bodice narrowed as it reached her waist. Her full overskirt of gold silk was slit up the front to reveal an underskirt of matching brocade. As much as she loved this golden gown, she felt a twinge of guilt about it. She had not told her aunt that their new clothing had been purchased out of Edward Stanton’s own pocket.

  “Now, about your other suitor,” Caroline continued. “I know Captain Breakwell would ask for your hand if you gave him the slightest encouragement. Of course, I don’t really want you to marry him, because he would take you to England and ’tis too far away. But it would be exciting to hear him propose.”

  Virginia narrowed her eyes on her younger sister. “Exciting for you, no doubt. You were listening at the door again, weren’t you?”

  Caroline blushed. “Well, I wouldn’t need to if anything exciting ever happened to me. ’Tis not fair. You have two men who want you. Even Aunt Mary has a suitor.”

  “I do?” Mary chuckled. “Now that’s news to me.”

  “You would have to be blind not to see it, Aunt Mary. Edward Stanton looks at you like you’re a goddess. And all that money he gave you—ow!” Caroline glared at her sister. “You kicked me!”

  Virginia scowled back. She had told her sister to refuse any more gifts from their aunt since the money came directly from Edward Stanton. She had also warned Caroline not to tell Aunt Mary the truth.

  “Edward paid me the money earned by Dover Mercantile on the last voyage,” Aunt Mary explained.

  “Oh, absolutely, of course, you’re right.” Caroline nodded her head, red curls bouncing. “That’s exactly what happened. Rig
ht, Ginny?”

  Virginia noted her aunt’s suspicious expression.

  “Is there something I should know?” Mary asked.

  Simultaneously, Virginia answered “no” as her sister answered “yes.”

  Mary frowned at her nieces. “I want the truth.”

  The carriage slowed to a stop in front of the Ashford home.

  Virginia caught her breath as the dance ended.

  Quincy escorted her to a chair. “Shall I fetch you some punch?”

  “Yes, thank you.” She admired his retreating figure, dressed in elegant gray silk.

  “Ginny!” Caroline startled her, then perched on the chair beside her. “Everyone is talking about you and Quincy Stanton. They say he’s besotted, that you’ve blinded him to the charms of other women.”

  Virginia smiled, recalling the moment when Quin had arrived at the ball with Josiah. He had exchanged words with the hostess while tossing his tricorne and walking stick to the young boy. When he spotted her seated by Aunt Mary, he headed directly for her. His usual flock of peahens swooped down upon him, surrounding him. He smiled, nodded his head, and slipped right by them, continuing on to Virginia. Then he asked her to dance three times in a row.

  From what Caroline reported, Boston society had received his message. Everyone knew Quincy Stanton had chosen her.

  Caroline leaned close to whisper. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you? You should see yourself, Ginny. Your skin is rosy and glowing, and with that golden gown of yours, I vow you’re as radiant as the sun. And in gray, he gleams like the moon. You’re perfect for each other.”

  Virginia blinked and stared at Caroline. So often, her exasperating sister blurted out things she shouldn’t say, but she always spoke from the heart. “I think that’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  “ ’Tis the truth. I’m so happy for you. You don’t know how much I’ve prayed that my foolish words back home would not ruin your chance for happiness.”

  Virginia squeezed her sister’s hand. Caroline, in her youthfulness, seemed to think all was simple and rosy, but the future was far from settled. She watched Quin approaching with two glasses of rum punch. He had not declared any intention of marrying her, nor had he claimed any special affection for her. True, he’d kissed her under the apple tree very sweetly at first, then with undeniable passion, but he had probably kissed many women before. He still kept his secrets from her, refusing to discuss himself.

  Quincy handed her a glass and turned to her sister. “Would you care for some punch?”

  “Not for me, but I’ll take it to Aunt Mary, if you don’t mind.” Caroline accepted the glass and strolled across the room to where Aunt Mary sat in a daze.

  Quin took the seat vacated by Caroline. “Is your aunt all right?”

  “I fear she’s suffering from shock.” Virginia sipped her punch. “She now knows her recent earnings were a gift from your uncle.”

  “She didn’t take it well?”

  “No. She insists she must pay him back, but she hasn’t the funds now. I wish there was something I could do.”

  Quin shrugged his broad shoulders. “Edward wouldn’t take her money. He’s in love with her, wants to marry her.”

  Virginia drank more punch. How easily Quin spoke of other people wanting love and marriage. Would he be able to admit it so freely of himself? She glanced up to see his younger brother, dressed in claret velvet, approaching them.

  “I say, old boy, are you going to introduce me to this lovely lady or keep her all to yourself?”

  Quin rose to his feet. “Virginia Munro, my brother, Clarence.”

  “Charmed.” Clarence raised her hand to his lips. “The other men in the room are too cowardly to ask you to dance, fearing the wrath of Quincy, but I shall do so.” He cast an amused glance at his brother. “What say you, old boy, can I dance with the most beautiful woman in the room without fearing your glove slapping me in the face?”

  Quincy’s smile did not reach his eyes. “Of course you may dance, but one wrong move and ’twill not be my glove but my fist you will feel.”

  Clarence chuckled. “Come, my dear. Let us show my oafish brother how the steps look when properly executed.”

  She passed her half-empty glass of punch to Quin and allowed Clarence to lead her to the floor for the next dance. Odd, she thought, that Quin would agree to this when he didn’t seem to trust his brother. She peered over her shoulder and spotted Quin slipping out the parlor door. Of course! Blast the man. He wanted her occupied while he sneaked about on his secret errands.

  The music started to “Balance a Straw.” She curtsied to Clarence. The entire time the man made a leg to her, his eyes inspected her bosom. Normally, such ogling would have embarrassed her, but she could only feel vexation with Quin. He had purposely left her with his leering brother so he could wander about the house doing his mysterious deeds.

  She moved through the steps, wondering where he could be. The last time they had been in this house, he had gone across the hall to the study and then upstairs. It occurred to her that the open window in the study had been where Josiah had exited.

  Her anger doubled. It was bad enough for Quin to risk his own neck, but to involve an innocent young boy? The courts would suffer no qualms at sentencing a boy to hang. How could Quincy use Josiah like this? She would certainly let him know how she felt. If she could find him.

  When the dance ended, she excused herself, presumably to find the necessary room. She crossed the hall into the study and closed the door behind her. A quick survey of the dimly lit room yielded nothing. Quin must have gone upstairs. She listened at the door, planning a quick exit and dash up the stairs. The sound of footsteps reached her ears as someone else crept up the stairs.

  She hesitated, wondering what to do. The light of the moon shone through the windows, illuminating the desk and the stack of papers on top. Papers, so easily within her reach. She had agreed to stop spying, but what harm could come from a quick peek? No one would know.

  She scurried over to the desk and rummaged through the papers. Most were simple letters or bills, but one caught her eye. Written by the chief customs official, it was addressed to Colonel Farley, who quartered in the Ashford home. It supplied the names of merchants and ship owners, all described as major Colonial sympathizers, along with a list of their ships which the customs official clearly stated he planned to seize.

  Virginia skimmed down the list and found Edward Stanton’s name. Quincy needed to see this. For that matter, all of Boston needed to see this. The British were singling out the more rebellious of the Colonials for financial ruin. She folded up the paper and jammed it down the bodice of her gown.

  She peeked out the door. The coast was clear. She sauntered into the parlor, displaying a calm demeanor to mask the pounding excitement that coursed through her veins. Quincy was not there. She sat down beside her aunt.

  “Where have you been?” Mary whispered. “You shouldn’t wander off with Quincy Stanton. ’Tis not proper to be alone with him.”

  “I wasn’t with him. Aunt Mary, I have discovered the most incredible information. I have it tucked inside my gown.”

  “Oh, my! This is wonderful.”

  “You must show it to Edward Stanton tomorrow.”

  “Oh, no! This is dreadful. I canna see the man.”

  “Aunt Mary, you must. It involves him.”

  Her face paled. “Is he in danger?”

  “Not physically, but it is bad.”

  Mary pressed her hand against her chest. “Puir Edward.”

  Virginia realized her aunt’s speech had reverted to a Scottish brogue. “You do care for him, don’t you?”

  Mary closed her eyes, not answering.

  Scanning the room, Virginia spotted Quincy slipping into the parlor. He ambled to the refreshment table. Another dance began, this
one to “Money in Both Pockets.” She wondered what Quin had hidden in his pockets. Clarence sauntered into the parlor, breaking into the line at the refreshment table to stand beside his brother. Caroline was dancing with a young lieutenant; Captain Breakwell partnered Priscilla Higgenbottom.

  The elderly Mrs. Ashford burst into the parlor with a high-pitched screech. The music ground to a stop as she continued to scream. “Thieves! Robbers! My emerald ring was missing from my hand. I went to see if it was in my bedchamber and discovered my emerald necklace was gone!”

  Captain Breakwell and the lieutenant who had partnered Caroline darted out the room and up the stairs to search for the burglar. Women squealed and checked their jewels. Men examined their pockets and rings.

  Over the noise, Clarence Stanton’s voice boomed out. “Calm yourselves! We can unmask this hideous Boston Burglar tonight.”

  A hush fell over the room as the crowd listened to Clarence.

  “I suggest we all submit ourselves to a search. Colonel Farley can search the men. Mrs. Ashford and Mrs. Higgenbottom can search the women in another room.”

  Mrs. Ashford gasped. “You believe a woman could be the burglar?”

  Clarence smiled. “My dear Mrs. Ashford, I have known women to be capable of most anything.”

  Mrs. Higgenbottom planted her hands on her wide hips. “His lordship is correct. We will catch the fiend tonight. If all the women will step into the study, we will commence with the search.” She barreled out of the room, like a cannon rolling to the front line.

  “Oh, God.” Virginia pressed a trembling hand against the bodice of her gown. “Oh, no.”

  “Ginny,” Aunt Mary whispered. “Is that paper on you?”

  “Yes.” Virginia gripped her aunt’s hand. She gasped for air, finding it difficult to breathe. If they found the paper on her, they would know she was a spy. “What shall I do?”

  Tears filled Mary’s eyes. “Give it to me.”

  Ginny released her aunt’s hand, jumping back in her seat. “No!”

  Suddenly, Quincy Stanton appeared before her, his eyes flashing like a storm cloud, his granite jaw clenched. “We’re getting out of here now.”