Rebel Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  Not even glancing her way, Mr. Hampton led her into the ballroom. Keeping his voice low, he steered her toward the refreshment table. “People will not think all is well between us if you continue glowering at me like that, Miss Wellington. We are making too much progress for me to spend the next months cooling my heels in your estimable jail.”

  “I am beginning to think that is where you belong. When do you start borrowing money from these wealthy fools for a ‘worthy investment’ or just to ‘tide you over’ until your quarterly allowance? They’re eating out of your hand right now. Do they need to lick your boots first before you allow them to hand over their money?”

  Alex lifted one dark eyebrow and regarded her with amusement. “My, my, have we a little cynic here? I am impressed with your astuteness, my dear. At one time I would have done exactly that. Perhaps I’m just keeping in practice to guard against recurrences. Would you begrudge me my fun?”

  “Yes, I would. Why should you be having fun when I am not? The last of those illegal crates were shipped to their owners today, and I can’t see that you have done anything at all to trace them.”

  “You weren’t meant to see anything at all. That is the whole point of the exercise. Have a little more trust, my dear. I really didn’t have to stay to carry out this charade, you know.”

  That was what made Evelyn grind her teeth and endure this torment. If she knew nothing else about him, she knew he was quite capable of rowing out to the Minerva one night without looking back. That he did not leave forced her to believe he really was trying to find the men who had threatened his ship with their illegal goods. That was a good selfish motive, and one she could believe of him.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord,” she replied sarcastically. “I shall take my humble self to some corner while you parade around the room looking for smugglers. My feet hurt.”

  Alex handed her a lemonade and steered her toward a silver damask settee. “We only just arrived. How could your feet hurt? And I am not a lord, just cousin to one. You need to learn the proper etiquette.”

  Wearily Evelyn sank down upon the cushion. The ice-blue silk of her favorite gown billowed out around her, but she failed to appreciate its elegance any longer. “I have been on my feet all day trying to find places to store that latest shipload. The warehouse is full to bulging. No one has the money to come claim his stock. And I don’t want to know the proper etiquette. I have no earthly use for it.”

  Mr. Hampton sipped his punch and eyed her with disfavor. “A refusal to learn is a sure sign of a closed mind. And why must you personally oversee the damned warehouse? It is not very becoming in a lady. You have hired help.”

  “So do you. Why don’t you send them to find your smugglers? There’s no more narrow mind than a prejudiced one, Mr. Hampton. If idleness characterizes a lady, I shall never be one.”

  Usually their arguments stirred a fire in her, but tonight she was over-weary and depressed. What she needed was a glass of warm milk and her bed, not this overbearing man and his ill-mannered arguments.

  In these last weeks, he had treated her circumspectly, seeing her only in the company of others. If they whispered together, none could complain. They were treated with the condescension awarded new lovers and idiots. Evelyn had easily avoided the temptation of his destructive kisses. Unfortunately, the more she avoided them, the more she thought about them. And the more she thought about Alex’s kisses, the further her thoughts strayed, wondering where those kisses would lead. Despite her exhaustion, her sleep was not restful.

  Hampton, too, seemed to be under some strain, but she could not imagine what it might be. He idled the day away in taverns and in the company of his new Tory friends, then spent the evenings escorting her from drawing room to drawing room. They had even attended a rout at the governor’s mansion and a musicale at the lieutenant governor’s. Such a life could scarcely be considered a strain, but there were taut lines at the sides of his mouth, and the mocking gleam of his dark eyes had lost some of its glitter. At times it was almost thoughtful.

  He was staring at her that way now, not taking her up in badinage as usual, but apparently considering her description of a lady.

  “That’s only fitting, I suppose. I never felt called upon to be named a gentleman. Why should I expect you to behave as a lady? I have never been fond of the company of idle twits, but there is something to be said about occasional idleness. I will take you home early, and you will sleep in late in the morning. That’s an order.”

  Evelyn wondered if he had taken leave of his senses, but in the way of all good parties, another couple arrived and interrupted their tête-à-tête. Before long Mr. Hampton was caught up in an irate discussion over the use of a generalized writ of assistance to search the house of one of the merchants the night before, and she was left discussing the latest coiffures from England with her aunt.

  Thomas Henderson arrived to politely exchange greetings, and finding Evelyn without male company, offered to escort her to the dance floor.

  Too tired even to feel animosity toward the handsome lawyer, Evelyn declined. “It has been much too long a day to play the butterfly all night, Mr. Henderson. Perhaps you could just escort me over to my cousin Frances. I haven’t said a word to her all evening.”

  Bowing, he took her hand as she rose, and placed it on his arm. They made their way around the perimeter of the room to the corner where Frances was holding court. She had come into favor with some of the Harvard men when they learned of her impending connections, and she was wielding her charm as briskly as her fan.

  “Your cousin is an enchanting child, Miss Wellington,” Mr. Henderson said. “I daresay she will soon be following you into matrimony.”

  The panniers of her skirt kept her escort at a distance, and Evelyn was untroubled by the familiarity of the gaze he bestowed upon her. She had known Henderson since she was a child and was well aware he looked at all women like that—one of the many reasons she detested him. He was taller than average, and his ascetically narrow face and pale good looks were attractive to most women. She supposed, like Alex, he just liked to keep in practice. She had never given him any reason for amorous displays.

  “One certainly hopes Frances will marry soon,” she replied with a cynicism that would make her escort proud. Her cousin was still sulking over Evelyn’s “capture” of the most eligible man in town.

  “Have your plans progressed any further in disposing of your father’s interests in the warehouse? I’m sure once you are in England with your husband, we will seem very far away here.”

  Evelyn sent him a wary gaze. “I have made no plans to dispose of anything, Mr. Henderson. The trust only provides that my share in the warehouse goes to Alex as dowry when we marry. You forget, I have a younger brother who will one day wish to claim his share.”

  “I drew up your father’s will, Miss Wellington. He leaves you sole executor of his estate. If it should become advisable to sell Jacob’s interest, you have the power to do so. It might be more beneficial to invest it elsewhere. As a friend of the family, I only wish to make you aware of that.”

  “I thank you for your concern, sir.” Curtly dismissing the topic of her only livelihood, Evelyn turned her attention to greeting the other young people around Frances.

  ***

  From across the room, Alex watched as the smarmy lawyer persuaded Evelyn onto the dance floor. Henderson was agreeable enough and had put himself forward a time or two to help in his inquiries, but Alex could not like the way the man looked at Evelyn as if she were a slab of meat to be gobbled up.

  Shouldering his way through the throng, Alex reached Evelyn’s side just as the music ended. She glanced up in surprise and, he almost imagined, relief.

  Taking her hand in his, he nodded affably at the lawyer. “Thank you for taking care of my fiancée while I neglected her. She is very patient with my foibles.”

  “It is always a pleasure to have Miss Wellington’s company. I’m willing to be of assistance anytime.
” Politely, Henderson bowed over Evelyn’s hand and departed.

  Evelyn stared after Henderson with surprise. “He has always found me too argumentative before.”

  Alex stifled a grin and started for the doors open to the terrace. “There are times when you would do better to keep your tongue still, but on the whole, I prefer your waspish tongue to simpering silence.”

  She shot him a suspicious glance. “Your praise overwhelms me, sir,” she answered dryly. “Why are we going out here? Are you finally taking me home?”

  “I have said farewell to our hostess for you. I thought you might enjoy a little fresh air before we find the carriage.”

  Her uncle’s grandiose carriage was another sore point between them, but Evelyn didn’t disagree this time. “Sometimes you are almost considerate, Mr. Hampton. It is a terrifying thought.” Crushing the tender leaves of lavender from the garden, she tucked an aromatic bouquet into his buttonhole.

  Alex halted and swung her around. He circled her waist and studied her pale face. “Sometimes I even terrify myself, Miss Wellington. Like now, when I wish to scold you for working too hard. I know it’s none of my business, but there’s no need to worry yourself ill. I really can handle the matter of the smugglers without more than occasional information from you. You needn’t stay awake nights fretting over it.”

  Evelyn tried to step away from his hold. “You fail to understand the seriousness of the situation, Mr. Hampton. Please let me go.”

  “I understand a good deal more than you give me credit for, but as long as your uncle is the customs officer, you need not worry over being found out,” he told her. “Wellington Storage will be the last place to be searched.”

  “That’s what’s so unfair,” she whispered, looking away to the overhanging branches of an apple tree. “They’re using me, and I am losing my friends because of it.” Catching herself, she turned back to meet his puzzled look. “Let’s go. I am tired.”

  He was missing something here, but Alex wasn’t certain what. Her expression clouded his thinking: both wistful and slightly rebellious. He knew that feeling too well himself. He didn’t know why someone surrounded by loving family and friends would feel that way, but he could sympathize. He could do more than that.

  Cupping her hollowed cheek in the palm of his hand, Alex succumbed to the temptation of those lips he had mentally forbidden himself.

  Evelyn briefly struggled, but she succumbed without much protest. Telling himself he needed just a little reassurance to pay for his endurance, he slanted his lips against hers and braced his hand at her back.

  Her kiss was tentative at first, just feathery touches to the edge of his mouth as if unsure of the welcome she would find. His pulse raced faster when her palm rested above the thudding of his heart. His kiss became more daring. The magic hadn’t receded but had intensified over these last weeks. As he returned her passion, he caught her up in his arms, and the only thing preventing them from more pleasing proximity was the pressure of her hands upon his chest.

  Evelyn breathlessly turned her head away, though she made no attempt to leave his arms. She rested her cheek against his shoulder as Alex pressed kisses against her hair.

  “Do not do this to me, Alex, I beg of you. It is not seemly,” she begged.

  “Seemly. That’s a fine word.” Alex held her until both their pulses slowed to normal. “You are right. This is not seemly. We should be in the privacy of our chambers with only a bed to see us.” He felt her jolt of irritation and smiled grimly to himself. That should be sufficient to restore them to their usual footing and put an end to temptation.

  Evelyn shoved from his embrace, and lifting her skirts, started down the path to the street. Alex caught up with her, taking her arm through his.

  “You’re an unmitigated bastard,” she hissed, trying to jerk her hand away.

  “I wouldn’t be the earl’s heir if I were that, now, would I?” The carriage was waiting, and he helped her in, signaling to the coachman to pull out.

  “I doubt that you are any such thing. While the House of Lords may be filled with dunderheads, I doubt that they are all degenerates like you.”

  Alex sat back against the cushion across from her and chuckled. “Then let me not introduce you to the vices of the lords in the Hellfire Club and their peculiar associates, my dear, if you think my natural suggestion is degeneracy. The shock would be too great for your feeble heart.”

  “Feeble! I can assure you there is nothing feeble about me. I’m just being sensible, and I suggest you be the same, Your ‘natural suggestion’ can only lead to one conclusion, and I have no desire whatsoever to be shackled to a rake or an earl’s heir or whatever you are. You’d be wise to remember we are a trifle more moral here than in London.”

  “Is that so? Then the custom of bundling over here is only a rumor? And I suppose when betrothed couples like your friends Sally and Henry tell their parents they are spending the night with friends, they really and truly are with friends and not with each other? And of course that buxom barmaid down at the Goose serves only drinks. Morality abounds, I can tell.”

  Staring out the window, Evelyn didn’t deign to give him a reply. All his charges were true, but she couldn’t make him see the difference. Bundling happened in the country only when the couples already had an understanding but little time together because of the miles between their houses. And if Sally and Henry spent the night together with the same friend, it was only a few weeks until their marriage and to be expected after waiting years to have the money to set up housekeeping. The barmaid—well, the barmaid might be immoral, but she did provide a service of sorts. It simply wasn’t the same as what Alex was suggesting.

  The carriage halted and they climbed out. To Evelyn’s surprise, Alex sent it on without him. She jerked her hand away and started for the door. He grabbed her waist and steered her toward the alley leading to the kitchen gardens.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  “It’s difficult to tell. When I’m around you, I become quite irrational. I had some notion of speaking with you in private.” The irritation in his voice was obvious.

  Evelyn hurried to keep up with his long strides. On a garden bench beneath another apple tree, she took a seat and refused to go farther. Her mother was within screaming distance of this spot. “So, talk.”

  Alex paced rather than sit. “I have traced two of the shipments of brandy to where they are stored, but storage and ownership are two different things. I have men working on discovering the owners, but we know where the goods are. Another of the companies should be revealed after today’s shipment is followed. Unfortunately, the fourth, the Stockton Company, had a driver who eluded my men. He disappeared in the woods near Sudbury. Unless we can find some other means of tracing them, they will escape our net.”

  ***

  In the window above the apple tree, hidden by its branches, Jacob Wellington leaned out to catch the murmur of voices below. He could see the giant shadow of Mr. Hampton and recognized the glints of blue from his sister’s gown. They always got quiet when he was near, so he knew they discussed something they thought unsuitable for childish ears.

  Somehow, he would like to make them see that he was old enough to help. Ever since the Sons of Liberty committees had started meeting in the tavern, he had been attending on his own. That meant the patriots trusted him. Why couldn’t Hampton and his sister?

  He frowned as he caught the words “smugglers” and “Stockton.” It took more phrases and a brief argument when they both raised their voices for Jacob to realize they were conspiring to catch smugglers. He knew smuggling was illegal and that the redcoats would come and tear a man’s house and shop apart looking for illegal goods, but he also knew that almost every man with a ship indulged in it.

  He was familiar with the Stockton Company too. His uncle had taken him there to help load some crates last autumn. Jacob knew his loyalties belonged with Evelyn, but he couldn’t help worrying that maybe she was m
ixed up in something she shouldn’t be. She’d been awfully unhappy these last few weeks since the Englishman had come into their lives.

  He watched as Evelyn ignored Hampton’s outstretched hand to climb the steps into the kitchen. He liked Mr. Hampton, even though the man strove to look bored whenever he taught him the tricks with strings or listened to his news about the fight he’d won with Billy. He listened, and that was more than most of Evelyn’s friends would do. And if Evelyn was going to marry him, he was practically family and had to be trusted, despite what was being whispered at the patriot meetings. Evelyn would never turn her back on friends and become a Tory.

  He’d have to go to Sudbury and prove it for himself.

  Chapter 6

  Evelyn’s frantic message reached Alex at the unmentionable hour of eight in the morning after a night of drowning his misery in a bottle of rum. As the boy at the door waited for a reply, Alex staggered to the dormer window of his tavern room, seeking light to read the letter.

  It took a moment before Evelyn’s frantic phrases penetrated Alex’s foggy mind. When they finally did, he crumpled the letter and sagged against the low ceiling, his head upon his arm as he tried to concentrate. Why would the boy go riding off at midnight to Sudbury? Where in hell was Sudbury?

  Realizing the messenger was waiting, Alex reached in his pocket and flung him a coin. “Tell Miss Wellington I’ll be right there. And tell the stable to saddle my horse.”