Bobbi Smith - Captive Pride

Edward went on to explain the fiery orator’s involvement with the Whig Party and his dealings with the shadowy group called the Sons of Liberty, unaware that CC was on the staircase listening intently to their conversation. It wasn’t that she had been trying to hear their discussion, but their words had carried out into the hall. CC had been unable to ignore Kincade’s statement that his ship was transporting war materials to the colonies. Damn him! she thought in outraged fury. He was one of those directly responsible for bringing in the military arms that would be used by the hated redcoats to maim and kill innocent civilians.

Her small fists clenched in futile fury, despising Lord Noah Kincade even more than she had before, she ran up the steps, anxious to seek out the solitude of her bedroom. He was dealing in war supplies. He would profit from their use. No wonder he’d wanted to know about the political situation!

CC was glad when she reached her room to discover that Anna was not there waiting for her. The last thing she needed was her maid asking her endless questions about “handsome Lord Kincade.” Ugh! she thought forcefully. She undressed on her own, pulled on her nightdress, and plopped down on her bed in frustrated irritation. Kincade was a pompous ass…an unprincipled cad…a…a…Yet even as she condemned him, CC couldn’t help but remember the way her body had responded to his touch, and she wondered what it was about him that he could destroy her cool equilibrium with just a caress.

The disquieting remembrance stayed despite CC’s best effort to banish Kincade totally from her mind, and when she heard the carriage pull to a stop in front of the house, she quickly climbed out of bed and rushed to the window. There, safely hidden behind the heavy velvet drapes, she watched in silence as Kincade strode purposefully to the conveyance and climbed in. It was only after the carriage had disappeared down the street that she returned to the warm comfort of her bed and sought elusive sleep.

CC couldn’t believe her luck as she dutifully walked her father to the front door late the following evening.

“I hope everything goes well for you, Papa,” she told him, kissing his cheek as she bid him good-bye.

“I don’t understand why this meeting is so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow morning, but I shall endeavor to make the best of it,” he groused. “As it’s late already, I’ll no doubt be delayed past midnight. Don’t wait up for me. I’ll just see you in the morning.”

“Yes, Papa,” CC answered respectfully as he started down the steps to his waiting carriage. “Good night.”

“Good night, CC.”

She watched until his conveyance was out of sight before moving back inside and closing the door against the slight chill in the night air. It was with a great sigh of relief that she gathered up her skirts and darted for the staircase. Now that he was out of the way, it was time to move, and move quickly. Hurrying to her bedroom, she locked the door securely behind her and began a breathless search through the darkest corners of her armoire to find her hidden cache. When at last she had the secret bundle in hand, CC tossed it on the bed and began to undress. She was busy struggling to unbutton the buttons of her dress when the knock came at her door.

“Miss CC?” Anna’s call was muffled through the locked door.

“Yes, Anna. What is it?” CC took care to keep her tone relaxed.

“I was just wondering if you were going to be needing me anymore tonight.”

“No, I don’t think so. Why?”

“Well, I’m not feeling real good. I thought I’d go to bed early, if it’s all right with you, of course.”

“You go on to bed. I’ll be just fine. In fact, I was thinking about retiring early myself.

“Thank you, Miss CC.”

“Good night, Anna. Get some rest.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m sure I’ll be fit as a fiddle in the morning. Good night.”

CC smiled to herself as she considered how perfectly everything was going. She had worried that she would have difficulty sneaking out of the house undetected at this late hour, but her father’s unexpected imperative business meeting and now Anna’s illness had rendered her escape a most easy matter.

Conquering her stubborn buttons, CC slipped out of her gown and quickly shed her petticoats and chemise before moving to the bed to untie the parcel she’d retrieved from her armoire. With eager hands, she pulled on the wrinkled, dark-colored boy’s clothing, buttoning the loose-fitting shirt over her full breasts and tucking it into the waistband of the knee breeches. White stockings and heavier, low-heeled boy’s shoes were donned, along with a baggy, nondescript vest to camouflage the swell of her bosom. Anxious to be gone, CC moved quickly to the mirror to pin her heavy mane up. That done, she snatched up the tricorn that completed her disguise and carefully anchored it on her head.

A quick glance in the mirror confirmed that any resemblance between her current self and young Miss Cecelia Demorest was remote. The breeches were skintight, as the young boys wore them, hugging her hips and thighs revealingly, but the baggy shirt and overlong vest helped to conceal her more feminine curves. She felt a sense of freedom whenever she wore her boyish garb, and she took secret delight in these times when she got to carry out her masquerade.

Though she knew she was being outrageously daring every time she ventured into town so disguised, she also knew that there was nothing more important in her life than being involved in the movement to rid the colonies of the hated British domination. It was necessary for her to pretend to be a lad in order to move about the city unobserved. A woman traveling alone at this time of night would draw undue attention to herself, but the sight of a boy walking the streets after dark was not uncommon.

Satisfied that even her father would have trouble identifying her should they meet on the dark Boston streets, she straightened her room and arranged her pillows under the covers on her bed to resemble a sleeping body, just in case someone decided to come checking on her. After unlocking the bedroom window that opened nearest the massive oak tree, CC took one last surveying glance around the chamber to be certain that all was set to rights, and then climbed nimbly out into the tree’s thick, supportive branches.

Though he had spent the entire day on board the Lorelei going over the ledgers and manifests with Lyle, Noah was not particularly tired as he retired to his room that night. If anything, he felt strangely tense, as if a huge spring were coiled deep within him. Accustomed to being in complete control of himself, he found the stress annoying. Still, he knew the cause. It had been two days and he had not yet heard from Joshua Smith. He was certain that the rebel would contact him eventually, but that knowledge didn’t make the waiting any easier.

Restlessly he moved to the washstand, poured a bowl of water, and then began to strip off his shirt. Bared to the waist, he idly rubbed the taut muscles in his neck, wishing that the inn boasted whiskey of the same caliber as he’d had at Demorest’s home the night before. Certainly a glass of the smooth, strong liquor would help to settle the unusual uneasiness that gripped him.

The memory of the evening at Demorest’s brought a fleeting thought of Edward’s daughter, CC, and Noah grimaced. Lovely though she was, her profession of disliking him even before they’d met had done nothing to endear her to him. Not that it mattered, of course, for he had no intention of becoming involved with any woman. Still, it had been a most amusing scene when she’d turned to find him standing behind her in the hall. A slight smile curved the grim line of his mouth as he remembered her startled expression and the becoming blush that had stained her cheeks upon his most gallant introduction. Certainly, since she’d promised her father to do her best to “make him feel welcome,” the ball Friday night did promise some amusement.