Captive Pride (18 page)

“And just whose side would you be on, Matthew, if it came to that?” His question was pointed and gave the younger man pause.

“I don't know,” Matt answered honestly. “Before tonight, even with the attack on Faith, I still was ardently against revolt, but now…”

“Now, nothing!” Noah was suddenly sitting stiffly in his chair. “Don't give it another thought.”

The sharpness of his tone drew a puzzled look from Matt. “But…”

“You are Lord Matthew Kincade and you will not become involved in any of this.” The last was a command. “Do you understand me?”

“I may be Lord Matthew Kincade, but I am a man, and I will make up my own mind,” Matt countered with dignity.

“The hell you will! You insolent pup!” Noah ground out in low tones. “Don't be a fool. This entire situation could get very bloody, very fast.”

“If it gets bloody, then I can be assured that you had a hand in it!” he snapped.

“My involvement is strictly business—profit and loss. What you're talking about is your life. I won't stand by and watch you get caught up in something that could be dangerous…possibly even deadly.”

“It's not your decision to make, Noah,” Matt said with slow intent. “It's mine.”

“Matthew…” Noah sounded ominous, but Matt faced him with equanimity.

“I will do whatever it is I have to do…whatever I feel is right.”

“But you're an English lord!”

Matt shrugged expressively. “And so are you, but you're doing what you feel is necessary. Right?”

Noah found himself frustrated at the willfulness his brother was displaying again, and he ordered in the tone that had always worked in the past, “We will be returning to England in the spring, Matthew.”

His movements tense, Matt got to his feet. Staring down at his older brother, he said only, “We shall see, Noah. We shall see.”

Leaving his half-f mug of ale on the table, he stalked from the room, disappearing up the stairs.

Noah stared after him for a long moment before snatching up the tankard and drinking down the remaining contents. The different liquor hit him hard, but caught up in emotional turmoil as he was, he barely noticed. Tossing a coin on the tabletop for Polly, he followed in Matt's direction, seeking what he hoped would be serenity in his own chamber.

The rented room was cold and unwelcoming as Noah entered, and he remembered with regret the warmth and comfort of Kincade Hall. Suppressing the melancholy that threatened, he locked the door behind him and negligently began to discard his clothing. Clad only in breeches, he stretched out across the bed, resting a forearm heavily across his brow as he closed his eyes. His rest was short-lived, however, as the heavy fragrance of Eve's perfume seemed to surround him even there in his own room. Getting up, Noah moved to the washstand to scrub away the sweet cloying essence.

Eve…He should have known better, but for some reason, at the time he had felt driven to accept her advances. Certainly she was a beautiful woman, but it was a cold beauty that had reminded him, once they'd left the ball, of Andrea Broadmoor. From the moment they'd gotten into her private carriage, Eve had made it plain to him that she wanted him, kissing him full and flaming on the mouth and practically climbing onto his lap in her passion. Noah had never refused an offer so boldly put, but when they reached her home and were alone in the dark seclusion of the house, he suddenly felt no desire for a consummation with her. That had been an awkward enough situation for him to deal with, but what had made it even worse was that he found himself continually comparing Eve to CC.

He gritted his teeth even now as he thought of CC. Cecelia Demorest was a paradox. She was outspoken in her dislike for English noblemen; she was completely opposed to her own father's views on colonial relations; she'd masqueraded as a boy in her determination to help her secret cause; and she'd surrendered herself to him in hopes of maneuvering him into a more agreeable frame of mind toward her rebel group.

The realization that she had been untouched when he'd taken her struck a chord of emotion within him, and Noah frowned. How could it have been? Though she had denied during their argument that she and John Robinson were affianced, they had certainly seemed loverlike throughout the evening. Obviously, Noah realized now, he'd been wrong in that assumption, but why, if she cared so deeply for the other man, had she given her virginity to him?

Noah shook his head as if to clear it of unwelcome thoughts of CC, but it did no good as visions of the evening clouded his mind. Eve—blond and aggressive; CC—fiery but reluctant…Eve had known what she was about; CC had been untried.

Noah almost regretted that he had initiated her in such an abrupt manner. He forced himself to remember that CC had been the one using him and that she had not hesitated to return to her boyfriend as soon as she'd finished with him. Perhaps she was even with Robinson now…. He pictured CC making love to the other man and knew a moment of unexpected fury.

Suddenly angry with himself for even thinking about the wench, Noah stalked to the bed and lay back down, seeking rest. The ale along with the champagne he'd imbibed all night had numbed his senses more than he'd been aware, and he soon succumbed to a blissful, dreamless sleep.

 

Eve tore the artificial bird from her hair and threw it angrily across the room. Damn! Her body had been on fire with need for Kincade and he had left her! Just like that! She muttered a curse that would have done many a man proud as she stomped to her dressing table and sat down.

Eve stared at her reflection, trying to understand what she'd done wrong, but none of it made sense. The possibility that Lord Kincade might not prefer women occurred to her, but she quickly discarded it. He had seemed most receptive to her in the beginning, and everything she had heard about him had emphasized that he was quite the playboy. She could only conclude, with some embarrassment, that she had come on too strongly for his tastes. Judging from his aloof demeanor once they'd reached the house, Eve supposed that he had to be the type of man who liked to be completely in charge of a relationship.

With a snort of irritation, Eve got up and wandered restlessly about her bedroom. She wanted Noah Kincade in a most desperate way. His kisses in the carriage had been nothing short of rapturous, and she could hardly wait to be with him again. Still, she realized now that she would have to be more subtle in her approach the next time. He might have been put off tonight by her aggressiveness, but with any luck, perhaps she hadn't done any lasting damage. Brightening somewhat at the thought, she was almost smiling when Peggy knocked and entered the bedroom to help her undress.

“How did the evening go?” the maid asked cautiously. She had known that Lord Kincade had accompanied her mistress home, and she wondered why he was not there now.

“It was an absolutely marvelous ball,” Eve lied, not about to admit to a mere servant that things had not turned out exactly as she'd hoped.

“And Lord Kincade?” Peggy ventured as she helped Eve don her dressing gown once she had completely disrobed.

“Lord Kincade was perfect, Peggy. Just as I'd expected him to be,” she assured her as she returned to the dressing table to allow her to brush out her hair.

“He accompanied you home, didn't he, ma'am?” She was accustomed to Lord Geoffrey spending the night and thought it unusual that Kincade hadn't elected to remain. Surely her mistress hadn't played coy…or had she?

“Yes…” She faked an ecstatic sigh as her thoughts turned sour. He'd accompanied her home, all right, and then had turned around and left!

“Will you be seeing him again?”

“I'm sure,” Eve answered deceptively. She didn't doubt that she would see him again, but she had to wonder exactly when and where.

“I'm happy for you.” Peggy smiled enthusiastically. “He sounded absolutely divine when you spoke of him earlier, and now to know that the reality matches the dream…”

“The reality was better than the dream,” Eve's answer this time was definite and honest. “I'm more determined than ever that he is the man for me.”

And indeed she was, for no man had ever treated her with such indifference. Kincade's distant attitude had aroused her desire for him to a fever pitch. Eve would have him. It would only take her a little longer to figure out how to go about it. When at last Peggy had departed, Eve climbed into the vast emptiness of her bed and began to plot. Somehow, very soon, she was determined that she would be sharing its wide comfort with Kincade.

 

Geoffrey sat in the darkness of his own study, half-f tumbler of whiskey in hand. Jealousy was eating him alive as he stared unseeingly into the surrounding blackness. Eve was with Kincade…. And knowing Eve as well as he did, he had no doubts that the other man was gracing her most comfortable bed. Infuriated and filled with more hatred than he'd ever felt in his life, Geoffrey threw the glass across the room, listening as it shattered against the opposite wall.

“Lord Radcliffe?” The door to the study opened, and a glow of golden light permeated the room as his butler entered carrying a lamp. “Is something wrong?”

“Most definitely, Bartley,” he told him rigidly.

“Can I be of service?”

“Not tonight, but by morning, I should think so.”

“Very good, sir. I shall check with you then. Shall I clean up?”

“Leave it,” Geoffrey ordered. “I need to be alone right now.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the servant had backed from the room and he was once again enveloped in darkness, Geoffrey smiled thinly. Somehow, some way, he was going to destroy Noah Kincade. He wasn't sure how just yet, but he knew he would. No one took what was his and got away with it. No one. And Geoffrey firmly believed that Eve was his.

“Lord Kincade…” The sound of Polly's voice and her sharp knock at his door woke Noah to the blinding brilliance of the early morning, and he almost groaned aloud as he struggled to sit up.

“What is it, Polly?” he growled.

“A note, m'lord,” she replied hastily. “The gent who dropped it off said it was important you get it right away.”

“A note?” Noah ran a hand through his dark, tousled hair as he stared blankly at the closed door. “Just slip it under the door, Polly.”

Polly had been hoping to see him this morning, but she did as she was bid. “Yes, m'lord.”

After a moment Noah made his way to where the sealed envelope lay just within his room and bent down to pick it up. The motion aggravated the throbbing in his temples, and he returned to the bed to sit back down, tearing open the envelope and drawing out the missive within.

Despite his self-inflicted state of misery, Noah felt a surge of excitement. This was the contact he'd been waiting for. Graves had told him after the first meeting that he would be in touch as soon as they'd reached an agreement. Evidently they finally had.

Hastily Noah selected fresh clothing and set about getting ready to leave. He thought of asking Matt to accompany him, but remembering their conversation of the night before, he decided against it. As ardent as Matt had been, Noah knew it might be a devastating mistake to introduce him to any of the rebels. He did not want him getting involved.

Within the hour Noah had dressed, breakfasted alone in his room, and was ready to leave for his rendezvous. As he descended the stairs, he caught sight of Polly and motioned for her to join him.

“Yes, Lord Kincade?” Her eyes were sparkling as she hurried to his side.

“I'd like you to relay a message to my brother when he arises.”

“Yes, m'lord?”

“Tell him that I was called away on business this morning and that I have a luncheon appointment with Edward Demorest at noon. I shall be returning here after lunch.”

“I'll tell him,” she promised, staring up at him with open adoration.

“Thank you, Polly. This is for your trouble.” He handed her a coin.

“Oh, m'lord, it's no trouble at all….” Polly was thrilled. “But thank you, just the same.”

“You're welcome.”

Eagerly anticipating the news he was about to receive, Noah left the inn and hired a conveyance to take him the distance to the Green Dragon.

 

Only a few men were gathered at the Green Dragon Inn on Union Street that morning. Looking as unkempt as always, Sam Adams sat with his ardent supporter Ryan Graves, discussing what was for them the burning issue of the day—the decision to purchase the arms from Lord Kincade.

“You're prepared to meet his price then, Ryan?” Sam asked, his interest in the matter keen. Though Sam would never take an active part in any of the unrest, he was a great orator and would be a main motivating factor behind it.

“We're going to do our best to meet it,” Ryan answered somewhat grimly.

Sam nodded. “That's all you can do.”

“I just hope we have enough time to raise the funds.” He looked up as the door opened and Noah entered the tavern. “Lord Kincade…”

Noah recognized Graves and Adams right away and moved purposefully in their direction.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” He shook both their hands as they stood to greet him.

“Good morning.” They were businesslike in purpose and wasted no time on pleasantries.

“I presume you have an answer for me regarding the shipment?” Noah began immediately.

“Indeed I do,” Ryan said. “And I hope you will find it acceptable.”

Noah nodded slightly as he glanced about the sparsely populated room. “Is this a safe place to discuss our dealings?”

“It is,” Adams put in with assurance. The Green Dragon had long been the central meeting place of their cause and he knew everyone in the room. It was safe.

“Go on.”

“We do not have the entire amount you've demanded….” Ryan began.

“Then there is no point in our continuing this discussion,” Noah said coldly as he rose to his feet. He was annoyed at having come all this way for nothing. Surely Graves could have just sent a message to that point and saved him the trip across town.

“Lord Kincade, please, sit down. I haven't finished.”

Noah eyed him disdainfully. “I am a busy man, sir. If you cannot meet my terms, then we have no further business to discuss. I told you in the beginning that my price was firm.”

Ryan held on to his temper with an effort. “If you will allow me to finish…”

Noah stiffly resumed his seat, wondering what else the man could have to say.

“While we have not yet raised the entire amount you're asking, we do have a substantial portion of it. If it is agreeable to you, we would be willing to pay you half now and half when the shipment arrives.”

“How can I be sure that you will have the other half of the money by the time the materials reach port?”

“We only need a few more weeks.”

Noah considered him silently. He had had no word of any sightings of the
Pride,
and he estimated that it could be as long as a month before the merchant ship made landfall.

“All right.”

“I appreciate your understanding in this matter.”

“You can contact me at the Red Lion regarding delivery of the sum you indicated. I expect to hear from you within the next few days.”

“There will be no problem, I assure you.”

“Good.”

“An ale, or perhaps a glass of rum?” Ryan offered.

“Ale, please. It's a little early for anything stronger.”

“Sam, can I get you anything?”

“No, Ryan, but I'm afraid I must leave now. I have to speak with the gentlemen who just came in. If you'll both excuse me?” Adams left the table and crossed the room to where the two newly arrived men stood as Ryan went to get their ales.

When Ryan returned with the tankards, they spoke of inconsequential things until the sound of Sam's sharp protest interrupted them.

“You mean they still aren't willing to come around to our way of thinking?”

“No, Sam, I'm sorry.”

“But we told them several weeks ago how important this was…. Why, we even sent out committees to impress upon them the strength of our convictions….”

“It doesn't make any difference. They're refusing to go along with us.”

Noah looked at Ryan questioningly. “There's trouble?”

“It's as we were saying at the meeting you attended. We are a nation of shopkeepers, and the British tea that is due in port soon represents a devastating attack against our own merchants. That tea cannot be allowed to come ashore and be sold only through British agents.”

“Why is Adams so upset?”

“We've sent out committees to the agents to try to convince them of the error of their ways and to stop the tea from being delivered, but they've all refused to listen. I'm afraid something terrible may happen soon if any of the tea makes port and an attempt is made to unload it.”

Noah listened intently. He was slowly coming to understand the legitimacy of the colonists' complaints, but was still determined not to become involved. It was none of his business what the government did with the tea. He was no colonist. He had no ties to this city. He was only concerned with his own affairs, and right now they were complicated enough.

“Perhaps things will be coming to a head sooner than we think….”

“Regrettable, but it looks unavoidable.”

 

It was near noon when Matt made his way through the winding maze of streets that was Boston, and his expression was serious as he debated the wisdom of the decision he'd made that morning. The night just passed had been a restless one as he'd tried to sort out his feelings. As dawn had repossessed the city, he'd felt a driving need to see Faith again. Matt tried to convince himself that he was only going to find out if she'd reported the attack to the proper authorities, but in truth—a truth he was trying to avoid acknowledging—he really wanted to see her one more time.

Finally arriving at the address he knew to be Faith's, Matt stood hesitantly before the modest wooden home. He was convinced that she despised him and he didn't blame her, for he knew he'd been completely out of line when he'd kissed her. It had been an impulsive gesture on his part, but after the trauma she'd suffered at the hands of the soldiers, he realized that it had been the worst possible thing he could have done. He had frightened her, and that had been the last thing he'd wanted to do.

Girding himself to face her now after all this time, Matt finally, grudgingly, acknowledged to himself that he was only using the report of the attack as an excuse to see her again. Faith had been in his thoughts almost continually since she'd raced from his room that day. The fact that her memory had haunted him during the Demorests' fancy ball last night had shown him just how much he truly cared about Faith. She had made an indelible impression on him, and he had to be with her one more time to apologize for his boldness and to ask her forgiveness. Ready at last, he approached the door and knocked, then stepped slightly back as he waited for someone to answer.

Concentrating on her stitchery, Faith sat by the window at the back of the house to take advantage of the brightness of the day. Her father's death had left her mother with only a small monthly stipend, and so it was necessary for them to take in sewing in order to supplement their income and keep food on the table.

Faith had been working doubly hard lately, for she felt that she owed Lord Kincade the money for the doctor's visit to care for her mother. Thanks to him, her mother was back to good health again and she was determined to repay him for his timely help.

She sighed as she thought of the handsome young lord who'd rescued her from a fate worse than death. He had been kind and considerate even when he'd kissed her. Mesmerized by the memory, a faraway look shadowed her eyes, and Faith paused in her work, touching a hand to the softness of her lips. Matthew Kincade had been so perfect…her knight in shining armor….

Tears stung her eyes as she realized that it was all a silly dream. Their meeting had been a quirk of destiny. They lived in two very different, very separate worlds, and they would never meet again. Irritated by her girlish fantasies, Faith began to sew again in earnest, deliberately forcing all thoughts of Matthew from her mind. It wasn't smart to moon over things you could never have, for she understood all too well that there was much in the world beyond her reach. Usually Faith could accept that and be happy, but somehow those few hours in Matthew's company had disturbed her serenity. She needed to completely erase even the slightest thought of him if she was ever going to be inwardly content again.

The knock at the door surprised her but did not frighten her. It was not unusual for garments to be dropped off at their little house at all hours of the day, and so she set aside her work and quickly went to answer it.

“Yes?” She opened the door wide, expecting to find someone delivering sewing, and instead was faced with Lord Matthew Kincade in the flesh. Her aquamarine eyes widened, and she swallowed convulsively as she stared up at him.

To Matt she looked more beautiful than he remembered, but when he noticed her stunned expression, his spirits fell. He immediately assumed that he'd made a big mistake in coming. She looked so shocked that he wanted to quickly put her fears to rest.

“Faith…Miss Hammond,” he quickly corrected. “I know you weren't expecting to see me again, but I thought it was important that I come to you and apologize.”

“Apologize?” Faith blinked in confusion as she wondered why he thought he owed her an apology. She should be the one apologizing to him. He had done so much for her, and she had run away.

“I wanted to tell you that I was sorry, and I also wanted to check to make sure you were doing all right.”

“I'm fine, thanks to you, and so is Mother. Please, won't you come in?” she invited, still trying to figure out why he was sorry. He had saved her, fed her, cared for her. He'd been wonderful!

Her unexpected invitation was more than he'd hoped for, and he quickly agreed, “I'd like that.”

Faith led the way into the small sitting room. Sparsely furnished, it contained only a threadbare sofa and chair and two mismatched tables. Faith realized it was hardly what an English nobleman was used to, but at this moment she didn't care. He was here! She didn't know why he had come, but she wasn't about to question her good fortune. She was just thrilled to see him.

“Have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

“No, thank you,” he declined as he sat down on the worn but comfortable sofa. “Is your mother here? I'd like to meet her.”

“She had to go out for a little while, but I expect her back soon.” Faith knew it wasn't quite proper to entertain a gentleman totally unchaperoned, but she couldn't send Matthew away.

“Good. Perhaps I'll still be here when she returns.” His cool smile was at distinct odds with his nervousness.

“Mother would like that. I've spoken of you and—”

“You did?” He was surprised. He had expected that she would only want to forget him.

Faith wondered why he sounded so amazed. “Of course. I told her how wonderful you were when you rescued me and how…” She suddenly realized she was revealing too much about her feelings for him, and she blushed deeply, beautifully.

Matt knew a spark of hope that maybe he'd been completely wrong about all that had happened between them. “You mean you weren't angry with me?”