This was no smuggler but a beaten woman. He had let her down by not finding the smugglers before they endangered her. Alex gritted his teeth to keep from saying something rash to the damned puppy awaiting praise for his quick action.
Nodding curtly at the officer, Alex held out his arm for Evelyn to take. “I will see that you are not mentioned unfavorably in my report, Captain. Your superior officer will bear the consequences of this outrage.”
He caught Evelyn’s hand against his arm and stiffly led her out, fighting his fury. He had her back. Now what could he do?
Outside, Jacob let out a whoop of joy and ran to embrace his sister. She gave him a faint smile, touched his hair, but offered no answers to his eager questions.
Worried, Alex set the lad to a task to occupy his high spirits. “Send for your uncle’s carriage, Jacob. Evelyn and I will wait for you over on those benches.” He indicated a place near a closed shop where the building’s shade cast the street in shadow.
The boy ran to do as told, and Alex settled them out of sight of passersby. Evelyn offered no argument to the use of a closed carriage to transport her back across town.
“Jacob said they found other contraband besides the brandy. Did you know it was there?” That was a fool question even in his own ears, but he had to bring up the topic somehow.
“And if I did?” She gave him a bitter smile, the first sign of spirit she had shown since her release.
Relieved, he pushed for what he really needed to know. “Dammit, Evelyn, you scared hell out of me! Don’t look at me as if I’m judge and jury. Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”
“Just my pride.” Sighing, she stared down at her hands.
“That makes two of us, then. I didn’t think your uncle would let your precious reputation be touched” he railed. “I thought you would be safe. So much for my understanding of the criminal mind.”
Evelyn sent him a curious look. “Are you saying my uncle was involved in my arrest or that he did not involve himself when he should have?”
“I am saying nothing,” he said wearily. “I have no proof. I do not trust or like the man, and we argued this morning. I fear my threat triggered this reaction. I told him you intended to auction off your unpaid consignments. I had hoped if he were involved that would serve as warning that the game was up. It looks to me as if he chose to call my bluff.”
“Oh, lud.” Evelyn grimaced and stared out at the empty street. “If he is truly involved, Aunt Matilda will die of the shame. And Frances will never make the respectable match she has her heart set on. They have no funds of their own, only Uncle George’s. My mother’s family is puffed with pride but has little wealth. It would break my mother’s heart to think she encouraged her sister to come here, only to sink her beyond reproach.”
“I’d rather see him behind bars than you.” Alex scornfully dismissed this conception of family pride. His family had been splintered for generations. He saw little reason for Evelyn’s to stick together over such an issue.
“I’d rather see neither of us there. You cannot imagine the humiliation, Alex. I’m not sure I can ever hold my head up again. What happens if the judge finds me guilty tomorrow?”
That was a point he didn’t want to consider yet. If he had a ship in port, he would just put her on it and sail away. Cut off from family and funds as he was, his only power was his name.
The carriage with Jacob beside the driver arrived before Alex had time to answer. He handed Evelyn in, gave Jacob a nod of approval, and climbed in to join her.
“I’ll talk to your lawyer this afternoon. Then perhaps I can track this judge down. I’ll find out what I can. Don’t worry about it until you have to. There has to be some kind of trial before they can sentence you. We have time.” Alex took her hand, feeling safe to do so in the privacy of the coach.
“You shouldn’t have to do this. It really is not your concern, Alex. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but perhaps I ought to be the one to look after myself. You don’t have to keep up appearances for my sake.”
Alex angrily withdrew his hand and looked as if he would slap her. Evelyn sat back in surprise at his reaction. He had the perfect excuse to end their mock betrothal now. She had not expected him to find his freedom so offensive.
“You really do believe me a cad, don’t you, Miss Wellington?”
They were back to formal titles again. Evelyn hid her dismay. “No. I only believe you have been caught up in something that you would not normally be involved in because of me. I knew the boxes were there and didn’t dispose of them. You only came because of my complaints. I don’t wish to be the cause of more trouble for you.”
“I am perfectly capable of finding my own trouble,” he grumbled. “You need not protect me. I thought we had a better understanding than that. If I am wrong, I will remove myself from your acquaintance at once.”
He spoke curtly and with every appearance of arrogance, but Evelyn heard the hurt and wondered at it. A man like Alexander Hampton should have an enormous circle of friends and family. Why, then, did he sound so lonely?
“I did not want to cause you any scandal that would put you in trouble with your cousin,” she replied quietly. “I would do the same for any friend.”
He favored her with a grimace that would have to pass for a smile. “Then allow me to do as I see fit. Go in, comfort your mother, take a bath and do whatever ladies do to relax, and let me play the part of anxious fiancé. I have a little more experience in avoiding jails than you do.”
When the carriage rolled to a halt, Alex assisted her out and into the arms of her tearful mother. No further mention was made of his moving out as he took his leave.
That night, Alex returned to dine and inform them of the progress of his activities. As he departed later on still another errand, Evelyn watched from her bedroom window. He had discarded his walking stick and elegant silk coat in favor of broadcloth, and he walked away from the house with purposeful strides.
Why had he made inquiries into the activities at Faneuil Hall?
Chapter 13
Mid-September 1765
Alex entered the tiny warehouse office. Glancing up from her ledgers, Evelyn grimaced. She’d worn an indigo gown of light wool this morning, and now it was creased and dusty. Her hair had tumbled down over one ear. She rubbed at a smudge of dirt she felt on her forehead. When he cracked a grin, she shot him a look of irritation. He was a picture of immaculate finery, as usual.
“If you just came to laugh at those of us who must work for a living, you may leave right now. I’m in no humor to endure your jests.” In truth, his lopsided smile made her heart lurch with longing. He so seldom smiled that her fingers ached to trace the wonder of it.
In the past few weeks Alex had been all that was proper, a reform that she greeted with mixed emotions. The strain of preparing for the trial had left her nerves ragged. She longed for the comfort of his arms but had no right to ask it of him. She would only harm herself, and him, to indulge in the needs of the flesh. Still, she reveled in these small moments when he looked upon her with what almost appeared to be fondness.
“I only came to admire your loveliness, little tyrant. Would you deny me that pleasure?” Alex came around the counter and smoothed the straying strands of her hair. Then, licking his finger, he scrubbed the smudge from her cheek. “It’s rather like discovering the beauty of a Greek ruin after the dirt is scrubbed off.”
Evelyn laughed at his nonsense. “Greek ruin? Thank you, my beloved. Your flattery always leaves me speechless.”
Alex’s grin grew as he leaned back on one elbow against her high desk. “Obviously I don’t flatter you enough, then. I’ve come to walk you home. Those books will still be there in the morning.”
The laughter fled, and she turned on her high stool to stare at the neat lines of inked figures. “The auction is in the morning. To meet the most pressing debts, I need to know exactly how many blocks must be sold off out of the stock the soldiers d
id not confiscate. Some of our clients have begged that theirs not be sold. They are trying to raise the funds to pay me.”
“Then let them pay you by the morrow or do not worry about them,” Alex responded coldly, lifting her from the stool. “You must learn to be businesslike. You have enough problems of your own without taking on those of others.”
Evelyn pulled away from the temptation of his hands on her waist, but she took his arm and allowed herself to be led from the office. What he said was essentially true, except she had no real desire to be ruthless. On her own, she would never be any great success as a businesswoman. Still, she had Jacob to think of. For his sake, she must learn to be more practical.
“Thomas has not found any new way of presenting my case?” She knew Alex had been at the lawyer’s office. He always dressed more carefully when he had a problem to confront. She straightened a bit of lace at his throat.
Helping her lock the door, Alex wore a grim expression. “We simply don’t have enough evidence to make it convincing. I’ve had the court send men to search the warehouses the brandy was taken to, but they came back empty-handed. I still have no names to charge the crime to. I have ridden out with the men to help in the search and question the owners of those storage places, but they are uncommunicative and unhelpful. Without evidence against them, there is nothing further I can do. I will testify on your behalf. We will present the invoices ordering the goods that the contraband came in and show that it’s the same four companies who made all the orders, but none of that is sufficient to prove your innocence. I’ve done you no favor by playing the part of fiancé all these weeks. My testimony would be more effective were I impartial.”
Evelyn’s fingers tightened around his arm. “Nothing you could have done would have freed me from this coil. I’ve rather enjoyed being courted by a notorious rake, although you have not kept up your role lately.”
Humor curved his mouth. “My dangerous pursuits of late have been of a more subtle kind. Were I in London, I would be looked upon with horror.”
“What are they discussing now?” She did not need explanation of his pursuits. Alex’s attendance at the Sons of Liberty meetings had been something of a sore point between them. She had been forbidden to attend any but the open meetings, and Alex had frowned on those. He, on the other hand, was welcomed by some of the more enlightened members who sought the influence he might wield on return to England.
“They are continuing with their plans for a congress of all the colonies to band together against the Stamp Act, although it seems a trifle late to me. They should have done that when the act was first proposed.”
“Better late than never,” Evelyn intoned gloomily. She had lost concern for these political arenas in the face of her more personal loss. Any actions taken now would be too late for her, any way she looked at it.
***
Alex glanced down at Evelyn with concern. She had become more withdrawn these last weeks since the judge had declared there was sufficient evidence to support a trial. The bond he had offered kept her out of jail as much as her name and sex, but the moment of decision was close at hand. Her lawyer, Thomas Henderson, had told him the possible penalties if she were found guilty. None of them were pleasant.
He looked back at the harbor, where the only vessels in evidence were a navy frigate, a few fishing boats, and some American traders. He had wild thoughts of abducting her and carrying her off to safety, but Evelyn wouldn’t think much of his notions of safety. He didn’t think much of them either. They included insane fantasies of Evelyn alone with him in a ship’s cabin with only a narrow cot for furniture.
Alex turned his gaze back to the proud tilt of Evelyn’s head. She walked with the hauteur of a duchess, but he had seen her smile and greet a chimney sweep in the same manner as she would himself or the governor. She was an amazing contradiction. It had been much easier to think of her in the same terms as other women—as deceitful, manipulating liars. But he had not yet caught her in a lie.
“Evelyn, have you considered what you will do if the judge finds you guilty?” They had avoided the topic long enough. The trial was two days away. He could not wait any longer.
“You mean when he finds me guilty?” Evelyn didn’t hide her bitterness. “Thomas says I will most likely be made to pay a fine. The proceeds from the auction might help, but I’d rather the money went to the men I owe and who need the funds as much as I. In any case, it is not likely to be sufficient. That is as far as I get in my thinking.”
The next step after not paying the fine was going to jail. He tightened his grip on her arm and offered the only solution she might accept. “Henderson says it is possible that they may give you time to collect the money to pay the penalty. I am expecting another ship in a few weeks. When the contents are sold, I should have sufficient funds to advance you a loan. Then, when I hear from my cousin with the names of the smugglers, I will be able to present that as evidence to have your case appealed. It will be time-consuming. I wish I could think of something that would end this nonsense now, but short of hanging the judge, I’ve failed to come to another solution.”
Evelyn strode beside him, contemplating his offer, increasing Alex’s anxiety with every step. This was worse than chasing his cousin across the Atlantic and back. At least then he had been able to take some action in the matter. In this, his hands were tied.
He’d seldom been inclined to bouts of guilt after gambling his allowance away or being caught with another man’s wife or meeting one mistress while walking with another. He had found such diversions momentarily amusing, but he’d been guilty as sin then. Now, when he had no responsibility whatsoever for this woman’s plight, he felt guilt. He definitely possessed a perverted conscience, Alex concluded.
“I thank you for the offer, Alex. I will consider it as one made by a friend and consult with my mother and Jacob about it. Unfortunately, my family is still under the impression that we are to wed and do not consider the matter very serious. I think it is time I enlighten them to the truth.”
That jarred Alex from complacency. “Don’t be too hasty in that, Evelyn. We still have your uncle to deal with, and he could make things very unpleasant for you if he chose.”
He didn’t understand his reaction to ending their mock betrothal, but he could think of all sorts of rationalizations. He had grown to enjoy the comfort and companionship of the Wellington home, for instance. He would have to move out and endure her mother’s scorn for his deception. He rather liked her mother.
Evelyn frowned. “I just wish I understood why Uncle George has not supported me in this. Surely he must know I wouldn’t willingly engage in smuggling.”
She was still denying her uncle’s involvement. With no evidence otherwise, Alex kept his silence on the matter.
***
It rained the day of the trial. Evelyn offered platitudes about being grateful that the downpour had waited until after the auction, but she was relieved when Alex arrived at the house in the carriage he had commandeered from her uncle.
She held her head up and refused to resort to tears as she climbed down from the carriage and entered the building where the trial was to be held. Her family stood at her side. Alex was behind her, but it wasn’t enough. She felt icily alone on the planks in front of the wooden podium.
The verdict was a foregone conclusion. Evelyn listened to Alex’s impassioned testimony on her behalf as if it were a speech made by an orator at Faneuil Hall, having no connection to her at all. She did not know whether the judge realized the men filling the benches of the courtroom and the upper gallery were in all probability the same ones responsible for breaking into his home during the riots, but it was too late to care. The judge didn’t seem intimidated by his audience when he found Evelyn guilty without benefit of jury as suited the charges on which she had been tried—under British law.
She sat still as stone as the court named a fine worth more than the value of her family’s warehouse and all its contents. Anger si
mmered through the courtroom and emerged in shouts of “Outrage!” and obscenities as to the origins of the judge’s antecedents. The mob had intimidated the governor into leaving town and the stamp collector into resigning his post, but the judge obviously considered himself safe. Evelyn scarcely heard as he entered into complex negotiations with Thomas and Alex over the time needed to gather the sum.
She couldn’t sell her family’s only source of income. She would have to go to jail.
Somehow she made it home that evening and retired to her room without speaking more than two syllables to anyone. She heard Alex go out. She heard her uncle arrive and begin shouting, most likely with frustration, when he found only her implacable mother available to bully. She heard Alex return at a late hour and hesitate outside her door. She wasn’t certain whether she wanted him to enter or not. She didn’t think it would be possible to ever sleep again. If she could just get some rest, she might think of some way out of this predicament. As it was, her brain had ceased functioning.
Like an automaton, Evelyn rose and went to the warehouse the next day. On the way, she heard the judge had been hanged in effigy last night and demonstrators had surrounded his home and harassed him with shouts and stones, but that didn’t improve her situation.
She felt the presence of British troops like an invasion of privacy as they passed her in the streets. In six weeks, the Stamp Act would go into effect, and she dreaded the conflict that was building. Her case was just a pebble in a riverbed.
When she returned home that night, she heard Alex and her uncle arguing furiously in the front room, but she saw no point in joining them. Somehow she must make her family understand that she and Alex had never meant to marry, but it seemed a minor concern in face of the much larger problem.
There really was nothing Alex could do. The judge had given her six weeks to pay the fine. Even if Alex’s ship should arrive, it might not be in time to save her.
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