Rebel Dreams

by Patricia Rice

  “You don’t need that. Climb under the covers and I will join you.” He began shrugging out of his coat, damning the tailor for sizing him so correctly that the cloth had to be peeled like a second skin from his back.

  “No, not until we talk.” Evelyn snatched her hand away as if his touch burnt and reached again for the robe.

  “Don’t, Evelyn. I’m too tired to talk.” Alex felt the weariness descend like a heavy weight upon his shoulders. The intimacies of the marriage chamber were new to him too—not the physical intimacies, but the emotional ones. He had opened himself to this woman more than to any other person in his life. The vulnerability left him uneasy.

  “Very well, then, don’t talk. Tell me when you are ready. I will be downstairs on the sofa.” Evelyn wrapped her robe around her and searched for her slippers with her feet.

  “Dammit, Evelyn, I’ve been up for three days and two nights, and I can scarcely think, much less talk. I just want to sleep. Can you not be reasonable about this?”

  “I am being reasonable. I told you to sleep. I am simply unwilling to go to bed with a man who has not been home in three days and two nights after marrying me. You did not even send a note or a message or give a thought to my feelings in the matter. I thought you would at least wait until you tired of me before returning to your self-indulgent ways, but it seems that now that everyone’s honor has been preserved, our marriage is of little consequence. Good night, Alex.” Evelyn tried to push around Alex to reach the door.

  He didn’t touch her, but he refused to step away. Crossing his arms, he glared at her with fury. “My self-indulgent ways? Had you not been busy indulging in your usual disgraceful pastimes, you would not only have received my message but also have been here when I came back to explain my delay! Would you care to tell me where you went in the middle of our wedding night? What scrape were you determined to get into that you sent me galloping off on fool’s errands the same night we were wedded?”

  “Disgraceful pastimes? Fool’s errands? Is that all you think of what we are fighting for? If that is so, it seems passing strange that you would concern yourself at all. Why did you not just drag me home by the hair, take what you wanted, and then join your drunken cronies in some tavern? Would that not have been more to your taste?”

  “While I’m at it, why don’t I turn my shrew of a wife over my knee and beat some sense into her thick head? Did you think to stay here and continue playing at being a man once we were married, and I had paid your fines? Let me disabuse you of that notion now, dear wife. I have no intention of paying that fine. You will come with me or go to jail!”

  “Bastard! I knew that’s what you had planned. Why me? Why must I be the one forced to suffer the cruelty of being your wife? Were all the others too timid to linger in your presence long enough? Damn you, Alex Hampton, you will see how little afraid I am! I will find those smugglers and turn them over to the court, and I will be free. You can go to hell!”

  Evelyn shoved past him, racing for the door, but Alex grabbed her arm and flung her to the bed. Her words had pierced him more cruelly than she would know, more cruelly than he had anticipated, because they came too close to truth. He had used his size often enough to intimidate, to keep people at their distance. Women feared him. His manners were not gentle, nor did he attempt to gentle them. His distaste for their sex was evident, even when his need for them was great, perhaps more so because of it. Evelyn was the only one to look at who he was, to stand up to him when he was wrong, to come to him with the same need he had for her. And now she had seen him as he truly was, a villain.

  She did not cower against the bed where he had thrown her. She merely threw her legs over the end and attempted to escape in that direction. Alex almost let her go, but he could not. He reached for her out of instinct and threw her back to the bed out of weariness, rather than crush her in his arms and force her to surrender.

  The challenge was not in taking her, but in forcing a woman as strong as Evelyn to come to him. He had thought he had accomplished it. Instead, he had proved his own weakness.

  “I will not disturb your slumber any longer. I will leave.” Alex towered over her recumbent form as she rose to her elbows to fight him again. In the candlelight he could see the soft outline of her breasts against the worn material, could almost feel the tininess of her waist between his hands. A flicker of fear gave away her realization that he could tear her in two if he so desired, and he clenched his fists against rage and helplessness. “But understand this”—he rested his hands on his hips as he glared down at her—“you are going with me. Your mother deserves better than a daughter in jail and a son-in-law who departs and leaves his wife behind. She is eager for this journey.”

  ***

  That was the strangest argument Evelyn had ever heard. Perhaps Alex was too tired to think. Obviously he was too tired to be sensible. She wished she could see his face, but he stood above the candle’s light. Still, it was not fear she felt when he stood so close. She longed to reach out and urge him to rest beside her, despite knowing the danger.

  Her gaze was on a level with his hips, and the candle was close enough to that height to reveal the effect she had on him. She forced her gaze back in the direction of his face.

  Before she could utter a word, he was gone. Suddenly realizing she was freezing, Evelyn pulled the covers around her while she kneeled at the window. With heart-rending anguish she waited for the sight of Alex leaving to ease his needs with his tavern doxy.

  When no familiar masculine figure stormed out the door, her stomach clenched tighter. Did he mean to come back? Should she bar the door or have some words of apology ready?

  She listened and heard his footsteps echo through the carpetless hallway. The sofa she had offered to sleep on was swathed in covers, and there would be no fire in the hearth. She heard the rattle of kindling in the bin and imagined the spark of flint on stone. He was lighting a fire.

  Curling down between the covers, she listened as he made the fire and sought cushions for his head. The sofa was a large one, but she did not think it over six feet long. He would spend an uncomfortable night in such a bed.

  He’d made that bed. Let him sleep in it. Spitefully, Evelyn turned over and clenched her eyes shut. He had forced her into this marriage for reasons of his own. Let him learn to live with it.

  The loneliness of the cold bed made her want to weep for what could have been, but she saw now how wrong she had been in choosing a man who could not love her. There would never be any trust between them. The promise she had felt in that brief dance before their wedding was a myth of her own wishful thinking. She had imagined happiness where there was none.

  She drifted off to sleep, to dream of dark eyes and a laughing smile that suddenly turned cold and grim and shouted “Guilty as charged!”

  ***

  In the morning, Evelyn rose, dressed, and slipped down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast. She could hear Alex’s heavy breathing in the front room but did not look in upon him. Whatever he felt or didn’t feel, her own emotions were too close to the surface to react sensibly to the picture of her husband deep in sleep.

  If she were lucky, he would sleep right through breakfast, and she could go on to the wharf without further argument. She ought to be looking for that packet with the names in it, but she was hesitant about searching Alex’s personal belongings. She still had some pride and honor left.

  Despite her desire to escape, she fed the fire and started coffee brewing. She cut strips from what was left of the salted bacon in the cold pantry and set them over the fire to cook. They had let supplies run low in anticipation of leaving, but there were still eggs, and her mother had made fresh bread just yesterday. She would set a proper meal and not be accused of neglecting her wifely duties, even if her dear husband was too exhausted to eat.

  As the coffee boiled, she heard footsteps in the hall. Nervously she removed the pot from its rack, burning her fingers when the holder slipped. Cursing, she set the pot
down and sucked on her singed fingers, listening to the movement in the other room. She had brought fresh water and towels to her room but not his. She bit her lip at the image of Alex muddling about in her personal belongings.

  With no one in the house but themselves to act as buffer or diversion, Evelyn was aware of Alex’s every movement. She tried singing to herself to disguise the sounds of Alex’s ablutions, but she had no heart for it. She clattered the dishes onto the kitchen table and rattled the pots and pans over the fire as she fried eggs and toasted bread. If she could just pretend she was alone and that this was the first real day of their marriage, she would be fine.

  Still, she heard him when he approached the kitchen door, knew when he stood there watching her. She tried not to look, but she could not stay bent over the fire forever. Removing the frying pan, she turned to look up into his newly shaven face.

  He had changed into clean shirt and breeches and used water to slick his unruly hair into some semblance of order. The ribbon at his nape was slightly askew, as if he had hurried, but the expression in his dark, deep-set eyes was cautious.

  “I didn’t wish to be accused of starving you,” Evelyn said as she lifted the eggs from the pan to the plate.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I spent most of the night thinking.” Alex took the heavy coffeepot from her and filled their cups, then pulled a chair out for her.

  Trying to hide her nervousness, Evelyn arranged her skirts and sat down, holding her breath until he removed his hand from the back of her chair. The kitchen table was small, and Alex did not take his place at the other end but sat next to her. His long legs brushed her skirts as he sat down. She made no reply to his comment. She could not.

  Alex sipped at the strong coffee while Evelyn poured cream and sugar into hers. The dark shadows beneath her eyes spoke of nights as sleepless as his. He had put those circles there, and he didn’t know how to remove them. He had spent a companionless childhood, and his tutor had taught him little about developing personal relationships. He fitted well into large parties, where the conversation was meaningless and actions counted more than words. He had spent a lifetime dealing with servants and employees and had no difficulty giving orders. But he felt helpless dealing with an intimate situation with an equal.

  “What you said last night was partially true,” he blurted out. “I didn’t mean to force you into marriage, but that’s the way it looks, doesn’t it?”

  The coffee in her cup sloshed with her surprise. He had certainly caught her attention, if nothing else. Alex took advantage of this fair beginning. “I don’t know who sent us to that inn and stole our horses, but I cannot hold you responsible for the deed any longer. I thought I was doing what you wanted, but I suppose it was what I wanted too. I know if the opportunity occurred again, I would do the same.”

  “I don’t think I care to comment on that,” she replied carefully, if a little unsteadily.

  Caught in his own train of thoughts and determined to carry them to the end at whatever cost, Alex let this slip by without wondering at it. “If there were any way I could pay your fine, I would, but the court has refused my notes. Much of our trading is done in merchandise and bills of sale. We seldom carry that amount of cash on our ships. My cousin has already agreed to look into the matter once we reach England. He can have your case set aside, but that will take months. Right now, I simply don’t have any choices left. You must go with me until the case is settled.”

  “What of the packet the earl possesses? If he has the names of the smugglers, could we not simply give them to the court and demand an appeal?”

  That was a matter Alex had struggled over all night, and his solution was no clearer or more logical by morning. His protective instincts would not allow him to do what reason said was best. He shook his head. “To do so would cause more harm than good, Evelyn. Trust me on just this one point, please. I know how to use the information to prevent the warehouse and my ships from being involved again, but there is nothing there to prove your innocence in time to keep you from jail. The evidence will still stand that the contraband was found on your premises. That, and the fact that you have a judge who is undoubtedly aware of your seditious activities, will preclude any release of the charges from his court. It will have to come from a higher authority.”

  Evelyn nodded miserably. “Then there really is no choice. I must go with you or go to jail. It’s rather too late for anything else in all events. I said the vows willingly enough. You did not even have to hold a gun to my head.”

  Alex didn’t smile at her small attempt at humor. The enormity of what he must say prevailed. Clenching one fist around his cup and the other in his lap, he revealed the conclusion he had reached last night, in the wee hours when everything looked its worst.

  “I saw how you were when you came out of that cell after just a few hours in confinement. I knew that the threat of jail was better than a gun. I’m sorry, Evelyn. I didn’t plan it that way, but I let it happen to get what I wanted. I can see now that it won’t work. I am not accustomed to obeying any wishes but my own and have little understanding of a woman’s ways. You were never meant to play the part of docile, uncomplaining wife to a rake like me. Neither of us seems capable or desirous of changing. I think our best solution . . .” Alex stopped before saying the final words that would dissolve their marriage in all but name. There was one more important point he must ascertain before continuing. “Has there been time enough to know if you are breeding?”

  A bright blush of color flooded her cheeks. “There has not been enough time,” she admitted.

  There was hope left, then, but not enough to keep the words from being said. Taking a deep breath, Alex offered her the only choice he knew how to give. “You must come with me in any event, so there will be time enough to know before we reach England. If there is no child, I think we can petition for an annulment. I’m not a lawyer, but surely, if the marriage has never been legally consummated, in addition to being forced to marry, there should be sufficient grounds to dissolve the bonds. Somehow, I will see that you are housed with your mother on board ship so there can be no question of our intent.”

  There, he had said it. Alex closed his eyes and waited for the pain to engulf him. He hadn’t yet decided whether this was the most courageous or damn-fool thing that he had ever done, but either way, it felt like hell. He had just condemned himself to six weeks or more of abstinence when the woman he wanted more than any other was within arm’s reach. Hell couldn’t be worse.

  Slowly, as if absorbing his reasoning, she nodded her agreement. “Whatever you say, Alex,” she murmured, then stood abruptly so he could not see her expression.

  Why did he fool himself into thinking she hid tears? Probably because that was how he felt.

  Chapter 22

  “I talked to Thomas about selling the warehouse.” Evelyn said into the thick silence that had fallen after she’d started cleaning the pots.

  Alex glanced up with a start. “You what?”

  A hint of defiance flared in his bride’s eyes. “If you have not noticed, trade is dropping drastically. The tax will cut it even more. I thought there might be a wiser investment for Jacob’s money. I told Thomas to think about it.”

  Alex growled into his coffee. “Leave Henderson out of this. Now is not the time to look for investors. I have a feeling all hell will break loose Friday.”

  That distracted Evelyn from her ire. “Why? What has happened? Has the governor not given up the stamps?”

  “He gave them up. I did not question where they went, but of a certainty they will not be available when the law goes into effect Friday. I wonder if they have taken into consideration what will happen then.”

  Evelyn shrugged. “They will get no money from Boston.”

  “Which will make it illegal to print a paper, load or unload a ship, or issue a legal document without a stamp. With no stamps, the whole damn town will have to close down or be subject to arrest.”

  Evelyn stared
at him in interest, her eyes widening. “No ships, no warehouses, no work, no money. Lud, Alex, we’ll all starve!”

  “You will not starve. You’re going with me, remember?” Grimly, Alex pushed away from the table. “I need to go down to the wharf and make sure everything’s loaded. We’re leaving as soon as the last shipment is tied down. Warn your mother that there is no time left.”

  He strode out without giving her time to question. Grabbing his coat and cloak, feeling strangely hollow, Alex headed for the lawyer’s offices.

  Henderson had only just arrived when Alex barged into his office. The lawyer’s powdered wig was tied in a tidy knot at his nape. His clothes, while not stylish, were elegant for the colonies. Alex studied the man’s handsome visage. The young lawyer had a reputation with women, wooing them with his ready smile. Alex had seen his type before and had no use for it. But Evelyn trusted the cad. He would have to warn him off.

  “I understand my wife discussed selling the warehouse with you,” he began innocuously enough.

  Henderson shrugged and indicated that Alex take a seat. “I believe I have mentioned to her before that her uncle knows some investors willing to purchase the business. Under the circumstances, I think it the wisest choice.”

  “Fine.” Alex stretched out his legs and contemplated the tarnish on his silver buckles. His valet would have a stroke when he returned. He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I agree the warehouse should be sold. My senior partner has approved the purchase. Cranville Enterprises will not tolerate crimes against his majesty’s trade laws. We will suspend all dealing with anyone suspected of tampering with the law.” He looked up to pin the lawyer with his stare. “I will personally ensure that any person attempting to ship contraband from England will end up before a judge. I have the evidence and I will use it, if necessary. As long as we understand each other, I would prefer to avoid scandal.”