Captive Pride Page 4
“Go on.” He was anxious to hear it all.
“Smith was reluctant to speak openly at first, but once I showed him that note and explained to him your reason for wanting to make contact, he agreed to try to gain you admittance to the next meeting of the dissenters.”
“When is it?”
“He didn’t say, and I don’t believe he really knew himself,” he answered truthfully. “Evidently, these men are very serious about their cause, for everything is carried out with the utmost secrecy.”
“I see. Do you have any idea how soon we’ll be hearing from him?”
“I told him where you were staying, and Smith said he’d get in contact with you directly when he had an answer, one way or the other.”
“How will I recognize him?”
“He’s about fifty, I guess, tall and thin. His hair was gray, he didn’t bother with a wig, and the most prominent feature about him was his arm….”
“What about it?”
“He’s lost use of his left arm,” Lyle explained.
Noah nodded and reached for the warm bottle of wine. “You’ve done well, Lyle, and I only wish I had something more suitable to celebrate your success.” He offered the bottle to Russell, and the captain took a deep swig, emptying the contents.
“Thanks.” He handed the empty bottle back.
“Matt and I dined here at the inn. Judging from the general tone of the conversation we managed to overhear, there is definitely unrest stirring in Boston.”
“If that’s the case,” Lyle said thoughtfully, “I think your timing in this matter may prove impeccable, just as you’d originally hoped.”
“We shall see,” he said quietly. “As you know, my meeting with Demorest is set for late tomorrow afternoon, so I’ll be getting in touch with you regarding the Lorelei’s shipment as soon as I’ve completed dealings with him.”
“Good.” The captain would be glad to get at least that much settled. “I think I’ll be heading back to the ship now. If you need anything before tomorrow, just send word.”
“I will.” Noah saw the captain out.
He felt most pleased with himself as he locked the door behind Lyle. Things were progressing nicely. After his meeting with Demorest the following day, during which he planned to close the sale of the Lorelei’s goods, he hoped to have a tidy sum that would keep both Matthew and him in the style to which they were accustomed well into the new year. That would take care of all the more pressing matters. Then he could devote himself entirely to his concerns with the radicals, so that by the time the slower-paced Pride arrived, he would have everything under control.
Noah was about to prepare for bed when another knock sounded at his door. Giving a rueful shake of his head, he answered it quickly, for he was certain it was Polly returning to pick up where they’d left off. He was amazed to find Matthew standing there, fully dressed.
“Noah? What’s going on?” Matt’s expression was worried as he moved into his brother’s room.
“What do you mean?” Noah tried to play the innocent, not wanting to involve Matt in the seamier side of his wheelings and dealings.
“I mean”—Matt flashed him a strained look—“what was Russell doing here in the middle of the night? It’s well after midnight.”
“Just a business matter, that’s all,” he replied nonchalantly.
“Business at after one in the morning? Surely it was something out of the ordinary or he would have waited until morning. Besides…I heard…” As he started to confess to overhearing a bit of their conversation, Noah turned on him.
“Just exactly what did you hear, little brother?” His tone was deadly serious. “And why were you eavesdropping?”
His reaction honestly startled Matt, and he stared at Noah as if seeing him for the first time.
“I wasn’t eavesdropping!” he denied heatedly. “I woke up when I heard Lyle’s knock. I thought he might have important news of some kind, so I got dressed and started over to see what the problem was.”
“Go on.”
“I was about to knock when I heard him mention something about a Joshua Smith and secret meetings. It was then I realized that you had no intention of coming for me, so I went back to my room,” he finished angrily. “I want to know what’s going on, and don’t try to hedge.”
“It’s a business matter. Nothing to concern yourself with.” Noah tried to pass over his inquiries, but Matthew was not about to let the matter slide.
“On the contrary, I think there is every reason to concern myself. I told you how I felt about your excluding me. Obviously you’re planning something, and I want to know what it is.” He was greatly irritated by the fact that, again, his brother had not consulted with him.
“The only thing I’m planning is the fastest way for us to make money,” Noah bit out, finding his younger sibling’s growing habit of challenging him most annoying. “In detail, if you must know, when we made port I instructed Lyle to try to make contact with Joshua Smith in hopes that the group he represents might be interested in purchasing the Sea Pride’s arms shipment.”
“I see. And what group is it this Smith represents that you have to conduct your business with him in secrecy meetings?”
Noah answered coolly, “I was given Smith’s name by a contact in London.”
“What contact?”
“I don’t know. It was all done very furtively. He did not give me his name, nor did I ask for it. It seems Smith is a middleman for a very active rebel group here in the colonies, and that his group is definitely interested in purchasing the Pride’s arms shipment.”
Matthew’s expression was aghast. “You’re not serious?”
“I am most serious. I have the goods that, hopefully, these people want, and I intend to get the best possible price for them. As I said, it’s a simple business matter,” Noah dismissed easily.
“There’s nothing simple about betraying your own country!” Matt was suddenly outraged.
“Matthew”—Noah’s voice was icy—“weren’t you the one who earlier today was ready to forsake our dear old homeland and settle here?”
“There’s nothing treacherous about my wanting to remain here and begin life anew. These colonies are a part of the Empire. But, Noah…” His confusion over the changes in his brother’s personality was very real. “I don’t understand what’s happened to you. You’ve become so cold-blooded…so mercenary. It started with the damned duel, and now…”
At the mention of the duel, Noah’s piercing silver gaze glittered dangerously, but he didn’t speak as Matt continued.
“How can you even consider selling the weapons to the highest bidder regardless of affiliation? Where is your conscience? If you sell those arms to the men who are advocating independence for the colonies, they might be used against soldiers of the Crown. You already heard that merchant in the taproom saying how dangerous things have become.”
Noah shrugged coolly. “It’s not my concern who uses the weapons or for what cause they’re used. All that matters is that we get the best price for our merchandise. Whoever pays the top price will get the goods.” The steely edge to his tone left no doubt in Matt’s mind that he was very serious.
“It seems to me that you’re selling your soul,” Matthew disparaged.
“I have been forced by circumstances to become a businessman. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“There’s more to this than business.”
Noah’s stance was rigid. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
“Making money has become your obsession! Damn the cost! You won’t be satisfied until you’ve made enough to return to England and resume our previous social status!” Matthew had never before spoken so openly or so critically to his older brother, and he surprised even himself by his outburst.
“And as much as you have the audacity to argue the point, you will be a direct beneficiary of what you call my ‘obsession,’” Noah returned sarcastically. “If we are to return home and reesta
blish ourselves—”
“You’re the one who’s so intent on returning to England! I never said that I wanted to go back, let alone ‘reestablish’ myself!” he declared furiously.
“We will be going back. Never doubt that for a moment.” The fierce determination of Noah’s words chilled Matthew. “Now, if you don’t mind, it’s late and I would like to get ready for bed.” The rebuff in his tone clear, Matt knew it was useless to continue the confrontation.
“Of course.” Stiffly, he excused himself and then stalked across the room, closing the door firmly behind him as he made his exit.
As he entered his room, Matt was still angry and frustrated as he bitterly pondered the fate that had changed his once easygoing brother into a man so totally obsessed with wealth. Allowing his thoughts to wander, he tried to come to grips with the man his brother had become.
Striding to the window, he parted the curtains and stared out across the night-shrouded city. How had it all come about? Just a few months ago they had been happy. Their father had been alive and the lucrative Kincade Shipping firm had been flourishing. Now he and Noah were at the brink of financial ruin, the strain of which was tearing them apart.
Matt shook his head sorrowfully as he remembered the trauma of the duel with Radcliffe. It seemed to him now, as he pondered it, that the changes in Noah had already occurred by then, but he had been just too naive to realize it. Though Noah had never related exactly what had been said by Radcliffe the night before their fateful encounter, the insult that was issued had stirred a cold, deadly resolve within Noah and sealed, possibly forever, the transformation of his very being.
Sighing in resignation, Matt turned from the window. He knew he would get little rest this night. As he stretched out, still dressed, on the comfort of the wide bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if Noah would ever be the same again.
Chapter Three
“Marry me, CC. You’ve kept me waiting long enough.” John Robinson’s proposal was ardent as he held the woman he loved within the possessive circle of his arms. “I’ve spoken with your father and he has no objection. It’s up to you now. You know how I feel.”
CC regarded her longtime beau, John Robinson, from beneath slightly lowered lashes. She cared for John and didn’t want to hurt him, but she knew that she did not share the same feelings that he did. He was her friend and her confidant in many things, but love…no, she didn’t love John.
“I’m sorry, John,” she demurred softly. “I care about you. I truly do, but I’m not ready to marry yet.”
John’s temper flared. As a gainfully employed, very attractive, very eligible bachelor, he was sought after by many women, all of whom were eager for his attentions, but he had spurned them for CC. She was the only woman he wanted, and yet, after paying serious court to her for months, she was still aloof. It was maddening!
Of course, John knew that he’d been warned. Many men before him had tried to win her elusive heart, and none had succeeded. Now, to his despair, it looked like he, too, was to suffer their same fate…unrequited love.
Still, no matter how he tried to downplay it, her answer hurt, and he couldn’t stop himself from pressing her for some kind of more definitive answer besides “I’m not ready to marry yet.”
“When will you be ready to marry, CC?” he challenged. “You’re twenty-two. Most women of your age have settled down and—” John got no further as the copper-haired vixen reacted sharply to his statement.
“I am not most women, John Robinson,” she told him haughtily, her green eyes flashing in the heat of her sudden anger. How dare he relate her age to her marital status! No man was ever criticized for waiting to marry; indeed, they were often congratulated by their comrades for having avoided the “trap” for so long. Annoyed, she moved quickly out of his embrace.
John quickly realized the mistake he’d made and he hastened to make amends. “I know you’re not like other women, CC. You’re different…special. That’s why I love you and want to make you mine.” Going to her, he tried to take her back into his arms in hopes of smoothing things over, but she would have none of it.
“No, John.” CC coolly avoided his embrace. “And if your feelings are as serious as you say, then maybe we shouldn’t continue to see one another.”
John’s declaration that he wanted to make her his grated on her nerves. She would belong to no man. The man she would marry, if indeed she ever did marry, would have to accept her as an equal, no less. She would not be chattel. His superior attitude erased the slight guilt she’d been feeling and convinced her more firmly than ever that John was not the right man for her.
“But, CC…” he came toward her.
She held up a hand to stop his progress. “I don’t want you to think that there’s more to our relationship than what exists openly between us.”
John stood silently for a moment staring at her. She was lovely, his heart’s desire, and yet his wounded pride almost prodded him to agree to end their relationship. His heart, however, refused to even consider an existence without her.
His dark eyes fixed upon her, John spoke slowly. “I love you. I have for a long time.”
Though she longed to erase the past few minutes and resume their friendship as it had been, CC knew it was impossible and that from now on things between them would never be the same.
“I’m sorry, John, but I’m just not ready to think about marriage yet. You, of all people, should know that.”
John grimaced inwardly at the truth in her claim. He knew very well in what direction her interest lay, and it certainly wasn’t in hearth and home. “But don’t you realize that the danger is growing? It isn’t safe for you to be so involved any longer.”
Again, his domineering attitude screeched through her. Who was he to tell her what she could and could not do?
“John. I will not allow you or anyone to dictate my life. If you insist on continuing to try to do so, I’ll put an end to our relationship right now,” CC told him emotionally. “And as far as the movement is concerned, I’ve been involved in it for a long time, and I intend to stay involved.”
John sighed. He loved her. He wanted to marry her and keep her at home having his children, away from the violence that was sure to erupt soon, but she would have none of it. Resignedly, he realized that he would have to bide his time and hope that she would someday come to accept that he was right. Until then, he would continue as he had, loving her, but never having the right to claim her as his own.
“All right,” he agreed in temporary defeat. “You’ve made your point and I see no reason to discuss this any further.”
“You understand?” she asked hopefully, for he had been a good friend and she did not want to lose his companionship.
“I’m trying, CC. Believe me, I’m trying.” He sounded disgruntled.
“Thank you, John.” She smiled sweetly at him, and as usual, John felt himself melt before her considerable charms.
“I almost forgot….” John spoke in low tones, forcing his thoughts back to reality. “Tomorrow night, eleven o’clock, the room in back of the stables of the Green Dragon Inn.”
Her expression grew suddenly serious. “I’ll meet you as usual,”
“Fine,” he agreed as he realized that there was nothing more to discuss. “Well, I’ll be going.”
“John?”
He gave her a quizzical glance.
“You’ll still be my guest at our ball, won’t you?”
Heartened that she still wanted him to escort her, he smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Just remember,” she confided. “Father made out the guest list, and everyone he invited is a loyalist.”
“I’ll be my usual Tory self,” John assured her, for he’d become a near master at hiding his true feelings toward the king and Parliament.
As she crossed the room to accompany him to the door, John was unable to resist one last kiss, and he took the opportunity to boldly sweep her into his arms.
“John
…” she gasped, surprised by his ploy.
“Just because I accepted your refusal gracefully doesn’t mean I don’t want you, CC,” he murmured as his lips claimed hers in a passionate kiss.
CC was not a stranger to his embrace, and she remained passive, finding his kiss neither exciting nor repulsive. When he finally released her, she moved away, his kiss leaving her womanly depths untouched by desire’s fiery blade.
John, however, was not so unaffected by the exchange, and his breathing was rasping as he convinced himself that someday she would finally admit to loving him. He left the house then, murmuring in quiet promise, “Tomorrow…”
As the door closed behind him, CC hurried down the wide center hall to her father’s study, where she knew she would find him awaiting her. As she reached the door, she met Gilbert, their butler, on his way out.
“Be sure to bring him in to me as soon as he arrives,” Edward Demorest was saying.
“Yes, sir,” came the polite reply as the servant held the portal wide for CC.
“Father?” she spoke softly and hesitated only briefly until she saw his welcoming smile.
At fifty-three, Edward Demorest was the picture of good health, and as always, CC marveled at the vitality he exuded. He had been a dashingly handsome young man, as evidenced by the oil portrait of him that hung over the fireplace in the parlor, and his dark good looks had not faded with the passage of time. Trim and fit, his black hair streaked with silver, his hazel eyes glinting with good humor, he was still a very attractive man. He’d been a widower for some ten years now, and more than a few of the ladies had set their caps for him. Edward, however, was not interested in remarriage, though he cut a wide swath through their numbers. CC’s mother, Sarah, had been his soul mate. No one else would ever be able to take her place in his affections.
“Come in, come in.” Edward waved his daughter into the private haven that was his study.
CC smiled engagingly as she entered the room. “Do you have a business appointment soon?”
“Yes, Lord Kincade arrived in Boston yesterday and we’ve a meeting set up for this afternoon,” he explained.