Rebel Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  Evelyn caught her hands in the thickness of Alex’s hair and arched against him. She parted her lips and drew him in. Alex groaned, and the rigid anger drained out of him as he accepted the solace she offered.

  When Alex drove into her, Evelyn cried out and clung to the strong arms on either side of her. He possessed her with urgency, with a driving need that returned her own passion. Understanding now where this led, she surrendered to his experience, let him take them to the brink and over.

  She gasped for breath as the final aftershocks rolled over her. Alex didn’t leave her, but remained in the position of triumphant conqueror. She could feel his shuddering breaths and knew she would never be able to share this with anyone less than this magnificent man. A tear crawled down her cheek.

  Alex finally took her in his arms, pulling her half on top of him. Evelyn kissed the salty perspiration beading on his chest and knew her love was hopeless.

  As he silently stroked her hair, Evelyn whispered, “Do you know for certain the child is yours? Have you ever seen him?”

  Alex flinched but didn’t hesitate in his answer. “The child was a girl. She’s a little older than Jacob now. She had no brothers or sisters. And no, I have never seen her.”

  She understood his anguish. If he saw the child, the visible proof that she was his, he would never be able to leave her. It was better not to know. Sighing, Evelyn brushed kisses across his muscular shoulder. His physical strength was no protection against emotional wounds.

  Since words only caused disagreement, they drifted silently into sleep.

  Evelyn woke at dawn to the cry of a jay. She was trapped against the warm nakedness of Alex’s chest, with his heavy legs entwined around hers. He’d thrown his arm over her as if to prevent escape. They lay face-to-face, or more like face-to-shoulder.

  Hesitantly, she shifted her legs away. She hurt where they had joined but even the hurt stirred longings she must get used to ignoring.

  She touched the welcome warmth of his chest and hated to pull away. His breathing changed, and she looked up into beautifully lashed dark eyes.

  “Good morning,” she said, fighting a flood of embarrassment.

  He pressed a kiss to her brow and drew her against him. Evelyn went willingly, loving the sensation of being held. The gray dawn gradually brightened. If they were married, they could have this every day. Why couldn’t everything be simple?

  “We have to go home. Mama will be terrified,” she summoned the courage to say.

  “I was just thinking it might be simpler if we never went back, but I suppose running away doesn’t solve problems.” Alex released her, gently pushing her back against the pillows to study her one more time.

  He cupped and stroked her tender breasts, then drew his hand down her side, to the juncture of her thighs. “Are you very sore?”

  His tenderness caught Evelyn by surprise. She had thought he was building up to another argument. “I think I’ll live. I won’t promise I’ll be able to walk twenty miles, though.”

  “We have a better chance of finding someone to give us a ride during the day, but I suppose we had best get started.” Alex withdrew and reached for his breeches. “You had better dress quickly. I can’t promise how long I can remain noble.”

  She was reluctant to leave the warm covers and man for the chilly room, but she had to learn to do without him. Bracing herself, she slid to the floor to begin searching for her scattered clothing.

  Wearing only his tight breeches, Alex joined her search. Evelyn avoided looking at the bulge behind his placket that warned she had better dress quickly.

  She pulled on her chemise and tied the ribbons high to avoid Alex’s lascivious gaze. She refused his offer to help with her stockings. “You would do better to don your own,” she said tartly, pushing away his encroaching hand.

  Alex chuckled and kissed her. “I knew I liked women with spirit, but you are very much in danger of becoming a shrew, little tyrant. Somehow we’ll have to learn to soften each other’s edges.”

  “I don’t think there’s been a grindstone made that could soften yours, sir. I’m neither shrew nor tyrant, just practical.” In a huff, she jerked on her shirt and grabbed for her skirt before he could make further invasions upon her person. The wool was sadly crumpled.

  Alex caught the length of her hair and lifted it from her shirt collar. “One of us must needs be practical, I suppose. Still, I can think of a thousand things I’d rather do than leave this room right now.”

  “A thousand? In this room?” She raised a skeptical brow as she buttoned her shirt.

  His grin was the devilish one she had expected the night before. “At least a thousand. Do you think there is only one way of making love? Remind me sometime to teach you more.”

  Flushing, Evelyn turned away. She must not let him think in those terms again or she really would end up carrying his child. She nervously brushed the place between her hips where a babe would grow. Surely he had not already planted his child in her. She tried to think of how long it had taken friends to get pregnant after marriage, but the memories weren’t reassuring. Susan had had her babe only six months after she was wedded, and Mary’s had come nine months to the day. How long had they been indulging in these sinful pleasures before they were actually married?

  Refusing to contemplate the possibility that one night of pleasure could lead to a lifetime of misery, Evelyn finished dressing and tried to tie her hair into respectability.

  Alex prevented her from doing more than tying it back from her face. He wrapped the length about his hand and kissed her, doing no more than teasing her lips. “I like seeing your hair down. That first day I saw you, I wanted to jerk the ribbon from your hair and see how it would look spread upon a pillow. Now that I know what it looks like, I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of it.”

  Evelyn shivered at his seductive words. She had to remind herself that he was well-practiced in seduction. She returned his kiss, but already, she was shielding her heart with cynicism.

  Downstairs, the old woman waited to tell them their horses had miraculously returned. Instead of being delighted at this news, Alex looked grim. Evelyn sent him an anxious glance, wondering if he still blamed her, but he gave no hint of his thoughts as he ordered breakfast.

  Afterward they rode in silence. It was the beginning of October and the maple leaves had reached the height of their brilliant color. With every jolting stride of the livery nag Evelyn was reminded of what she had done. Her gaze strayed to Alex’s masculine frame riding straight and tall. In this new light he appeared quite revoltingly handsome and very much the noble lord. Had she really lain naked beneath him not more than a few hours ago?

  She couldn’t believe she had refused his offer of marriage in favor of prison, but she loved him too much and knew herself too well to make them both miserable. After a few years in prison, she would go on with her life. Jacob and her mother would have the warehouse, and she could visit New York or Philadelphia and start over. It would work. It would have to.

  Alex climbed down outside her mother’s house and caught Evelyn’s waist to help her. He flicked a finger over her pale cheek.

  “Courage, little tyrant. I’m used to taking the full force of the blow. Just having you beside me will make it easier.”

  He took her arm and turned toward the house before he could see her astonishment. She had thought he was still angry and blaming her for what had happened. What had brought about this sudden change to tenderness? Tenderness! From Alex! She sent him a surreptitious look to see if he was the same man who had stood in his tavern room with his doxy hurling insults at her.

  At Alex’s call of greeting, the front room burst into life. Amanda Wellington flew in with reddened eyes and sodden handkerchief. Jacob raced down the stairs with suspiciously moist lashes. And even George Upton appeared from the study where he had apparently made his vigil.

  “You’re safe! Oh, thank God, you’re safe! You have no idea . . .” Amanda’s voice trai
led off as she hugged her daughter.

  Upton’s words, in contrast, were less than cheerful. “At least you had the sense not to elope, but you could have left some lie to placate Amanda until you returned. You both ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Hampton, I trusted you to act with a little more circumspection than this.”

  Evelyn disentangled herself from her mother and squeezed Alex’s hand, but he spoke before she could silence her uncle’s obnoxious tirade.

  “My apologies to all of you. There was a slight accident that forced us to stay longer than we planned, and we couldn’t make it back before dark.” He made a gallant bow in the direction of Mrs. Wellington. “You are already aware of my feelings toward your daughter. Under the circumstances, I think it is time to cry the banns.”

  Amanda burst into more tears and George looked placated. Only Evelyn appeared shocked, then grim.

  “I told you, Alex, I will not marry you or anyone else. Now, if you will excuse me . . .” She made an abrupt curtsy and started up the stairs.

  Below her, she could hear Alex reassuring her family.

  Let them go on with their plans. They could not force her to say the vows.

  ***

  The first banns were cried that Sunday. Eager well-wishers flocked Evelyn after church, most of them female and casting jealous glances in Alex’s direction. Evelyn walked away as soon as was possible. She had begged him to be reasonable, but Alex had remained adamant. There was no point in arguing with Uncle George. Already he was smugly accepting congratulations on his future nephew-in-law.

  Evelyn considered appealing to her mother, but Amanda was eagerly contemplating returning to England to visit her family. Her mother would be free to return home anytime she liked, but Evelyn would not. Marriage was for life. If Alex returned to his tomcat ways, she could do nothing but contemplate killing him. It wouldn’t serve. She knew that this marriage was wrong, but she could not tell her mother why.

  Alex was the only one who understood, but he wasn’t listening. She told him he would have to drag her tied and bound to the altar and hold a burning brand to her back before she would agree to the vows. He only replied that he would wait until she was in prison for a week and then ask her again.

  Evelyn still refused to sell the warehouse. Her uncle was apparently waiting until she was married, so he could appeal to Alex. If they married the day the final banns were cried, there would be a full week before the fine had to be paid. They didn’t know her very well if they thought that day would come.

  Alex once again offered to remove himself to an inn to avoid the appearance of any further impropriety, but Amanda refused to hear of it. Evelyn suspected her mother enjoyed having a man to cook for and flirt with again. Alex obviously soaked up the attention with great pleasure.

  From what she had heard of his mother, Evelyn couldn’t deny him this small pleasure. It just made things difficult for her to come down each morning to the sight of Alex eating breakfast with her family, sharing in the family discussions as if he were already one of them. His smile for her was always welcoming, but she still felt the wariness behind his dark eyes.

  Sometimes Alex ate dinner with them. Other times, he was off about the town with his new acquaintances. Evelyn found it fascinating that he could share dinner with the acting governor at his mansion one night and attend a meeting of patriots in a tavern the next.

  Frequently when he came home from these meetings, he would sprawl on the sofa in the front room and tell her all that had occurred, embellishing the tale with his opinions along the way. She loved those moments, because they could argue on equal, impersonal levels, exchanging ideas instead of violent emotions.

  Evelyn listened eagerly to the reports of what the patriots planned for the “Stamp Act Congress,” but she could see little hope. The hated law would go into effect in less than three weeks. The congress of colonial representatives was only beginning to gather. The distances involved would prevent any immediate action.

  The tension in town was unbearable, with militia marching in the streets, the governor hiding in the harbor, and British soldiers stationed at the batteries. The patriots might declare themselves free, but there was a long distance between talk and action.

  At night, she lay in bed wishing Alex would sneak into her room to drive away the frustrating needs that left her sleepless and miserable. But he kept a circumspect distance, only stealing an occasional chaste kiss when they were left alone.

  When Alex didn’t return at a reasonable hour on the night before the next banns were to be read, Evelyn retired in the fruitless hope of getting some sleep. She needed more time to make the memories of their lovemaking go away, she told herself. Once she was behind the cold, hard bars of prison, surely these feelings would dissipate.

  She was still awake when she heard unsteady feet outside. Her room overlooked the front door, and she leaned out the window to look.

  It didn’t surprise her to see Alex staggering up the walk, but his disheveled appearance frightened her. The fringed black cocked hat he had worn when he left was no longer in evidence and his expensive silk stockings were ripped. The sleeve of his good navy broadcloth coat had been pulled from its seams. His unruly dark hair spilled from a half-untied ribbon.

  Evelyn meant to turn away in disgust, when Alex moaned and bent over the frostbitten flower garden by the door. Without a second thought, she ran down the stairs. Whatever had occurred this night, Alex had been hurt by it.

  Garbed only in a flannel nightrail, she opened the front door to find Alex still bent over the ground, vomiting into the dirt. Evelyn knelt beside him, searching his coat pockets for the large handkerchief he kept there. Finding it, she helped him dry his mouth, then lent her shoulder to bring him to his feet.

  Without a word, they shuffled into the kitchen where the fire had been banked hours before. Alex dropped into a chair while Evelyn stirred the fire and pumped water for him to wash in. Unsympathetically she gave it to him cold, deciding he deserved the sting. He cleaned himself without protest while she brewed a pot of coffee. When he was done, Evelyn brought the lamp to the table to better examine the extent of his injuries.

  The wound he had sustained in August was nearly healed and undamaged by tonight’s altercation. One eye had turned puffy and a cut on his chin had stopped bleeding. He closed his eyes as she searched for other damage.

  “I’ll be fine, Evelyn,” Alex said unsteadily, clasping her fingers to stop her.

  She returned to the fire and the coffee, busying herself with cup and saucer, sugar and cream. “Is brawling in taverns one of your vices too?” she inquired, not accusingly.

  Alex took the cup she offered and warmed his hands around it. “I’ve done it before,” he agreed. “I try not to make a habit of it.”

  “Wise man.” Pouring a cup of the strong brew, Evelyn sat opposite him. She was shameless in her desire to be with him, even when he was drunk and battered and in a foul mood. “I suppose there was a good reason for this particular fracas.”

  Alex shrugged and sipped at the coffee. “At the time, I thought there was. Alcohol gives a man a different perspective.”

  “I can imagine.” When he did not share the topic for battle, Evelyn headed for the door. “If you think you will be all right, I’d better go to bed now. I don’t want to wake Mama.”

  “I’ll bank the fire in a minute. Go on up.” Alex purposely stared into his mug and not at her as she departed.

  A while later, Evelyn heard Alex’s tread on the stairs. Evidently he had removed his shoes so as not to disturb the household. She pulled the covers up and stared at the door as she followed his progress down the hall.

  It didn’t surprise her at all when the door opened to reveal Alex standing there.

  Chapter 17

  Alex removed his ruined coat and waistcoat and held them in his hand as he propped his shoulder against the door jamb.

  He had punched a lout at the tavern for saying the same things about Evelyn that he h
imself had thought a few months ago. He generally compromised ladies rather than defended their honors, but he had learned tonight how it felt to be on the other side of the fence. He didn’t even want men looking on Evelyn in lust if he could help it.

  There would be a couple of soldiers reporting in sick in the morning. Still, his stomach heaved at the image of what would happen should Evelyn insist on this farce of going to jail guarded by those same soldiers with brutish minds.

  He let his gaze sweep over the narrow bed and its occupant. Evelyn raised herself on one elbow and returned his gaze.

  “May I come in?” He had tried his damnedest to play the part of gentleman these last weeks, but worry and frustration had finally worn down what little restraint he possessed. Drinking to assuage his fears had not been an intelligent choice, Alex concluded as he watched the blanket slip from Evelyn’s shoulders. The gentleman was gone. In his place was a man who desperately needed what she had to offer and feared he could not have it.

  He was inside the room and closing the door before Evelyn answered. “You can’t come in here,” she whispered.

  “You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked.” Alex sat down on the narrow edge of the bed and stroked her hair. “I need you, Evelyn. Don’t make me go.” The whisper was more like a growl.

  He leaned in, cupping her head to keep her from retreating. He brushed his lips across her cheek before settling on her mouth. Her response was as intense and desperate as his.

  “Alex, we can’t, not here.” She caught her breath on a gasp as Alex caressed her breast.

  “Let me show you.” He captured her protesting lips again and lowered her to the bed, until they lay side by side on the narrow mattress.

  He lifted her hair and sensing her acceptance, breathed a sigh of pure joy. Someday she would be brave enough to come to him, but not just yet. Alex was relieved that she allowed this much liberty. He stroked the side of her breast, down to the valley of her waist, then pulled her hips toward his. “I just want a little, love, just enough to hold me until I can have you every night.”