Rebel Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  “I’m trying to do the honorable thing by waiting for our wedding night, but you are making this damnably difficult for me.”

  Evelyn threaded her hands through the hair at Alex’s nape. “They will be looking for us. We have to go in. It’s only one more night.”

  One more night! Alex couldn’t help a shudder of hunger imagining having her in his bed for an entire night. To be able to wake with her at his side was all the future he craved right now. He cursed the glare of light from the house and contemplated drawing her to the garden bench, where he could teach her a third method of making love. Riding his hands up the sides of her breasts, he resisted temptation. For one night and for Evelyn’s sake, he would try it.

  “I shall imagine you sleeping in our bed tonight and not be able to sleep a wink.” He pressed a kiss to Evelyn’s temple.

  She blushed, and he hoped she was thinking of the big double bed he’d had delivered to her room. Her mother and Jacob had accepted the invitations to stay with friends while the household was prepared for closing for an extended period. The earl was staying at her uncle’s home. They would have the house to themselves on the morrow.

  “It will seem very strange sleeping in such a bed. You shouldn’t have gone to such expense for so short a time. Other arrangements could have been made.”

  Alex had seen the pleased look on Evelyn’s face when the bed had been delivered. He ignored her polite protests now. “It will not be wasted. The bed goes with us. Our marriage bed will be the same one our children are delivered in. You need only decide whether you wish that to be Cornwall or London. Both places are filled with ancient furniture that has been used by my ancestors for centuries. I mean no disrespect, but I wish to have something of my own in those halls. A Yankee bed is perfect.”

  Evelyn laughed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I trust a Yankee bed and a Yankee wife will be sufficient. I do not want you seeking out Cornwall beds and London beds and women for them.”

  “I make you no promises,” Alex warned. “I would like to start anew with you. I want us to be able to trust one another. I would be less than honest if I made promises I’m not certain I can keep.” He tasted tears on Evelyn’s cheeks as she buried her face against his shoulder. He held her tightly, wishing he could offer more.

  “I don’t take vows lightly, Alex,” she murmured, choosing not to argue. “But we can live one day at a time. I’ll have you to myself all the way to England. Mayhap by then you will be prepared to admit defeat.”

  Alex smiled and crushed her close in relief. “If anyone can make an honorable man of me, it is you, my dear.” He broke the solemnity with a leer. “Do you have any idea what I can do with you while you’re trapped for six weeks in a cabin with me?”

  Evelyn blushed and shoved away at calls from inside the house. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

  “Ummm, but like me, that’s all you can think about, isn’t it?” Alex laughed as she lifted her skirts and flew toward the door. He would have to cool off before he could follow her.

  The earl found him some minutes later, leaning against a tree and staring at an upstairs window.

  “The Hampton name might be carried on yet, for what it’s worth,” Cranville said with a grin, following his heir’s gaze.

  “You could have married sooner, if that’s your concern,” Alex said shortly, brought back to the mundane. “What brings you in search of me?”

  “Upton’s been questioning me about your plans for the warehouse. It seems your bride has complete control over a very expensive and important property. The community will be harmed if it is left to stand idle. As a concerned citizen, he would like to know your intentions.”

  Alex shrugged. “As his friend the lawyer will tell him, her father left that investment very neatly tied up in trust. I cannot touch it and would not if my life depended on it. I have suggested leaving a man I know in charge, however. Upton won’t like that answer, so I suggest you delay giving it to him.”

  The earl eyed him shrewdly. “Will you tell Evelyn that her uncle is responsible for the smuggling?”

  Alex grimaced and returned to staring at the upper-story windows. “Do you have any idea what her reaction would be if I told her?”

  “She would deny it?” Cranville suggested.

  “She would be forced to make a decision. To protect her family and Upton’s family from ruin, she could tell me to keep my knowledge quiet. Or she could get furiously angry, take the charges and her uncle to court, rip open the town with the scandal, call the crown down upon her head, and clear her name. Which do you think she will do?”

  The earl grunted. “I see what you mean. Better keep it quiet for now. We’ll get her out of here and safe, then decide how to handle it. I’ll see about having the charges against her dropped when we reach London.”

  Alex offered a crooked grin. “I always knew you were an intelligent man.”

  They returned to the house in mutual agreement. Trouble had its own way of appearing; there was no sense in seeking it.

  ***

  Evelyn nervously smoothed the deep blue silk of her robe à la française. The pagoda sleeves held back with bows revealed yards of creamy lace to match the ivory satin of her underskirt. Panniers held the skirt and robe in drapes at her side, revealing tiny blue slippers when she walked. For this formal ceremony, her mother had insisted she powder her hair, and it was now dressed neatly against her head and adorned with only small gold pins. Catching a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror, she wasn’t at all certain that she was the same person she had thought she was.

  Within a week she would be a married woman on her way to England with a man who had just walked into her life a few short months ago. Everything that was familiar to her would be lost. It was an unnerving thought even if Alex were the kind and considerate gentleman she had vaguely imagined one day marrying. The fact that he was moody and intemperate and didn’t love her made her question her sanity.

  Of course, the alternative was being marched ignominiously to some filthy prison for years. Alex had promised she wouldn’t have to sell the warehouse, but every time she saw a soldier she feared he had come for her. There was still nearly a week left before she need pay the fine. Surely the Neptune would be ready to sail before then.

  The only reason she didn’t run fleeing into the night was the knowledge that Alex needed her as much as she needed him. She didn’t think his kisses lied.

  The Upton carriage arrived to carry them to the church. With tears in her eyes, Evelyn embraced her mother; then, erasing all trace of weakness with a handkerchief, she maneuvered her full skirt into the narrow coach and waited for Amanda to join her.

  The afternoon was fading fast as the carriage arrived at the church. Rain clouds hung on the horizon. The few people remaining outside helped them from the carriage and hurried them into the church.

  The minutes flew even faster once inside. The music started. Her uncle appeared to escort her. Her mother hurried down the aisle. And then it was Evelyn’s turn.

  Her fingers shook as she took her uncle’s arm and took the first few steps toward her future. When she reached the center aisle, she located Alex standing tall at the far end beside his cousin, the earl. She focused on Alex. For the sake of convention, he wore his powdered wig with the black satin bow in back, but it only served to emphasize his dark features. His black silk coat was cut away at the front to reveal an elegant silver-gray vest and breeches. The severity of the cut was accentuated by the lace at throat and wrist. Never had he looked more handsome, and Evelyn clung to the intensity of his gaze as he followed her progress.

  She yearned for the strength of his hand in hers when she reached the altar and had to wait for the minister to intone the words that released her from her uncle’s possession into Alex’s. When Alex finally stood by her side, replacing her uncle, she felt comforted. His fingers were strong and sure as they wrapped around hers.

  The ceremony spun past, unheard, until
she realized Alex was studying her with a look she knew well. As the minister asked her to “love, honor, and obey,” Alex’s dark eyes gleamed appreciatively, and Evelyn fought an urge to ask if she might not reword that vow. Her groom looked as if he half expected it, but she surprised herself by answering, “I will.”

  Alex’s response showed no hint of hesitancy. The ring slid smoothly on Evelyn’s finger after she removed her glove. Ignoring the minister, Alex lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss where this symbol of his possession gleamed. The heat of his hand and his bold gaze prevented hearing his vows as he took her as his wife.

  This was all it took to seal them into eternity? A few words seemed a paltry exchange for a lifetime of servitude.

  The music told Evelyn when the ceremony ended, but her new husband’s arms as he claimed his kiss finalized the moment. It was no modest peck, but a full measure of his desire, leaving Evelyn oblivious of gasps and titters. She was his, and he let the whole world know it.

  Once Alex released her to face the crowd, she was flushed, but her smile felt as if it might light the room. Her groom proudly took her on his arm, and the ladies all dabbed their eyes.

  Only Evelyn heard Alex whisper as they neared the vestibule, “Is it time for bed yet?”

  Biting back a laugh, she trod on his foot as hard as she could. He had to hide his wince as the first of their guests greeted them.

  The church bell rang as the earl claimed the bride’s kiss, and Amanda happily bussed her son-in-law’s cheek. Hesitant to step into the chilly wind, the crowd lingered, exchanging greetings and laughter and tears.

  Oddly, bells were still ringing as they left the church. Alex handed Evelyn into the carriage and like royalty, the crowd escorted them through the streets.

  However briefly, they were alone, and Alex took her hand. “How do you feel?”

  “Nervous. Terrified. And you?”

  “Witless,” he agreed, stroking her palm. “But it’s done and I have no desire to turn back. I’ve never much cared for other people’s opinions, but I find myself striving for your approval. Do you think that might go away in a few months?”

  His question sounded almost hopeful, and Evelyn laughed. Alex never did what was expected. As much as it might infuriate her at times, she loved him for it. She would hate it if he doted on her all the time, but she wouldn’t feel appreciated if he did not occasionally tease her like this. He had found a happy medium that left her content in his company. Except when he was kissing her, which he evidently meant to do. He leaned over her with a dangerously laughing look.

  Fearing she would be truly tumbled before they reached her uncle’s, Evelyn forestalled him with a gloved hand to his chest. She tilted her head at the puzzling noise from outside. “The bells are still ringing.”

  Alex peered between the carriage curtains. The growing darkness prevented seeing far, but he cursed.

  He dropped the curtain, and Evelyn caught his hand. “What is it?”

  “That’s the signal that an English ship has arrived. This time, it could very likely hold the stamps.”

  Evelyn dug her fingers into her palms and prayed. Rumors had been flying for weeks. The governor remained protected on his island fort surrounded by British troops. Rumor had placed the tax stamps there days ago, but no one had the facts. Whoever held the hated things was in certain danger. Boston had been filling with angry farmers and unemployed laborers for days. Such a mob wouldn’t be satisfied until the stamps were destroyed, and this time violence looked likely.

  “It can’t come to weapons, Alex. Surely it cannot. We would only lose against armed forces. The stamps can’t matter as long as there is no one to distribute them.”

  Alex wished he could reassure her, but there were those who talked of war. The tax had become a symbol of tyranny. He foresaw no simple solution. “There will always be someone like your uncle willing to seek influence and wealth by pleasing the crown and taking the distribution position. If the stamps have arrived, they will be used. Your friends are well aware of that.”

  “My friends? Are they not yours too? You must persuade them from this folly, Alex. They will not heed me, but they will heed you. Can you not keep them from using violence?”

  Alex shoved his hand beneath the irritation of his wig. This was to be his wedding night. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was talk a hotheaded mob out of the violence they were bent on. He wanted champagne and his wife, not necessarily in that order. He turned his gaze back to Evelyn’s pleading, adoring look and cursed. It was easier being a villain than a hero.

  “Let me find out what is happening before deserting our guests.” Alex’s reward was a smile replacing his wife’s anxious expression. Being a hero might be hard, but he had developed an aversion to losing Evelyn’s misplaced confidence. He squeezed her fingers as if he knew precisely what to do and everything was in control.

  ***

  The Upton house had undergone extensive repair since the night of the riot, but the library remained closed. The guests circulated through the wide hall and spacious parlor and through the connecting doors that had been thrown open to the formal dining room.

  For a time Evelyn could see Alex towering over a circle of men in a far corner of the parlor. He occasionally lifted his champagne glass to her with a smile of promise, but it was no easy task to cross a roomful of well-wishers to stand at his side. The next time she looked, the circle of men had dispersed, and Alex was gone.

  Discreetly, Evelyn worked her way through the parlor, greeting old friends, exchanging laughter, until she reached the dining room. The earl had spared no expense in supplying the wedding feast. The table was piled high with delicacies from the sea, but it was also harvest time, and the number of vegetable dishes exceeded the imagination. Even the lowly pumpkin had been converted to spicy tarts, and the pastry table alone was enough to make one’s mouth water. The crowd around the table was so dense that Evelyn had to stand on her toes to scan through it, but unless Alex were seated, he was not here.

  The hall was less populated but contained no trace of Alex either. Disappointed that he had not thought to warn her of his departure, she started down the hall to the parlor again.

  Voices from the closed library brought her to a halt. Cautiously, she looked through the partially open door.

  The room was unlit, but the earl’s voice was clear. “I still think you ought to leave the contents of that packet here with someone in authority. Surely there must be someone you can trust with the information. It is like walking around with a cannon shell in your pocket. You’re a married man now, Alex, you cannot continue inviting trouble.”

  “There is no trouble if we’re the only two who know of it. I’d rather be responsible for keeping explosive material safe than leaving it in the hands of someone who might use it for other purposes.” As if a sixth sense warned him, Alex looked up. “Come in, my dear. You have found us. Are you ready to leave?”

  Evelyn heard the suggestive note in his question, but in irritation, she dismissed his attempt at diversion. “What explosive material are you carrying? If I am to be blown sky-high with you, I should have the right to know.”

  Alex stroked her nose. “Calm down, little tyrant. We are only speaking figuratively. I was about to come looking for you. It seems a ship has landed on Castle Island. I fear I have to leave and might be a little late getting back.”

  That was dismaying, but not unexpected. It wasn’t as if they were a romantic couple. Evelyn shook off his pacifying finger. What dangerous material could Alex and the earl possess? A sudden suspicion came to mind. “You have the information on the smugglers, don’t you?” She turned to the silent earl. “You found out their names. Who are they? Why has no one given them to the court?”

  Alex caught her by the waist and pulled her against him. “Leave this to us, Evelyn. My first concern is for your safety. Now, give me a kiss and go back to your party as if nothing has happened. No one will be hurt, I promise.”
<
br />   His mouth closed over hers, silencing her protests, but frightened, Evelyn bit his lip and eluded his grasp. “You can’t do this, Alex Hampton. I have a right to know. I’m the one suffering for their crimes. Tell me who they are!”

  Alex stalked toward the exit. “I’ll not be dictated to at this late date. I’ll see you later.”

  They were both too angry to see the shadow dart out of sight of the partially open door.

  Chapter 20

  The carriage took Evelyn home from her uncle’s, alone. She didn’t know when Alex would return, but she preferred not to have anyone witness the scene when he did. The ache in her heart nearly matched her anger.

  He knew the smugglers! Blast the man, did he think her a fool? If he had turned that information over to the court, she could be free today, without the threat of fine or jail hanging over her.

  That realization hit her with the force of a punch as she climbed the stairs to her lonely bedroom. Alex had the evidence that could set her free. Did he hold it so he could force her to leave with him?

  Dropping down on the expensive bed he had bought for this night, Evelyn shook her head and tried to clear her thoughts. Alex had said they would be married whether she willed or not. He had let the banns be cried despite her protests, knowing he held the key to her future. He had known she had no choice but jail or him. Why? Why would he do such a thing?

  It made no sense. She had no wealth, no power, no name. The fear that she might carry his child was a specious one. He had only to wait a few weeks to know if his fears were confirmed. Besides, he had bedded other women without such concerns. He could have bastards scattered all over creation by now. Why would he force her into this marriage by withholding vital information?

  She paced the room, unwilling to undress and wait for him to appear. How could she be wife to a man who would treat her so cruelly? Was Alex’s name on that list, or her own?