Bobbi Smith - Captive Pride

The knock at Noah’s door interrupted his thoughts, and thinking that it was probably Polly, he did not bother to pull on his shirt as he strode forth to open it. The sight of a tall stranger standing impatiently in the deep shadows of the hall, his left arm hanging uselessly at his side, took him by surprise.

“Kincade?”

“I’m Lord Kincade,” he replied, regarding him levelly.

“I’m Joshua Smith.” Smith eyed the half-dressed Englishman skeptically. He had no use for these fancy aristocrats, and he took an immediate dislike to this one.

“Mr. Smith…please come in.” Noah held the door wide and then closed it securely behind him. “Have you come with an answer for me?” he asked quickly as he snatched up his shirt and began to dress.

“There are a few matters we have to discuss before we get to that,” Smith answered obliquely, waiting until he had Noah’s complete attention before bluntly speaking his mind.

“Didn’t Captain Russell tell you everything?” Noah was immediately on the defensive.

“He told me some.”

“And?”

“And we don’t trust your kind, Kincade. Might as well get that out in the open right now.”

“I see.” Noah’s tone was icy. “What is it that you feel you need to clear up about me?”

“I’ve cleared up a lot on my own, but what I haven’t been able to find out is exactly why you’re interested in selling to us and not the government. It seems rather odd to me that a nobleman like yourself would be willing to turn your back on your own kind.”

Noah’s gaze turned steely as the man’s question touched a nerve, and he replied with cold precision, “Why I’m doing this is none of your business. Either you are interested in what I have to sell or you’re not. And if you’re not, I’m certain there are others who would be more than willing to pay my price. It’s that simple.”

They stood glaring at each other for a long moment, measuring one another’s worth.

After weighing all he knew, Smith gave an abrupt nod. “The meeting’s tonight. We have to leave now.”

Noah nodded tersely, not revealing any weakness to the rebel. The last thing he’d wanted was a discussion of his motives or a disclosure of his more recent past. It was private. Something he would never discuss again. “Fine, I’ll-”

A sharp rap on his door cut him off.

“Noah?” Matt called out.

“Who is it?” Smith’s tone was angry.

“My brother.”

“Russell didn’t say anything about you having a brother. Get rid of him.”

Noah partially opened the door to speak to Matt. “What is it?”

“I thought I heard voices, and I thought something might be wrong…”

“There’s nothing wrong, Matt,” he dismissed curtly. “Just business.”

“I see.” He knew that he had heard voices, and he now understood exactly what was transpiring. The rebel contact…

“I’m going out,” Noah informed him in a tone that brooked no response. “I’m not sure when I’ll return.”

“I’ll be up,” he answered. Though he did not approve of his brother’s plan of action, he wanted to know exactly what was going on.

When Noah turned back to Smith, the colonist was watching him with narrowed eyes. “How much does he know?”

“Only the business end of the deal. Nothing else. There’s no need for him to be involved.”

He studied the nobleman for a long moment. “Get ready. We have to go. And wear something dark. We don’t want anybody taking notice of you when we’re in the back streets.”

Noah pulled on his dark coat and quickly followed Smith from the room.

John Robinson was waiting for CC several blocks from her house, and they started on the trek to the Green Dragon Inn together, shoulders hunched, eyes downcast lest they run into someone they knew.

“Did you have any trouble getting away?” he worried.

“No. Luckily father had a business meeting he had to go to. As I figure it, I should make it home before he does,” she told him, matching him stride for manly stride as they trudged on toward the inn.

“CC, you don’t know how I worry about you…” John began hesitantly. “Are you sure you want to continue this charade? You know the risk you’re taking.”

He glanced at her quickly, and the look he gave her reflected his disgust with her outfit. He thought it much too dangerous when she disguised herself to attend the meetings. She was a lady and should act like one.

“John…” The unspoken threat was in her tone as she halted and faced him squarely, hands on hips.

“I know,” he replied, annoyed by his inability to control her. As much as he loved her, he found himself growing more and more disenchanted with her whenever he came up against her independent, headstrong ways.

“Then let’s go.” She stalked off. CC had hoped that their conversation the previous day had blunted his feelings, but he seemed just as possessive and dictatorial as ever.

They reached the Green Dragon Inn without speaking again and, after giving the appropriate password, were admitted to the secluded room above the stable where the meeting was to be held. Greetings were exchanged among those present along with news received from the other colonies by the Committees of Correspondence.

“I’ve heard that an outsider is coming tonight,” Jack Dearborn, a small, nervous man who moved in the inner circles of the group, confided to CC and John as they settled in around the large table.

“Who?”

“Don’t know his name, but I know there was a lot of arguing among the leaders as to whether to deal with him or not.”

“Why did they decide to do it?” CC wondered. “Is he someone important?”

“More importantly, is he someone we can trust?” John asked.

Jack shrugged. “Don’t know. All I know is that Joshua is bringing him. They’ll probably show up a little later.”

John and CC exchanged puzzled glances as they tried to imagine why a stranger would be admitted to their midst. Times were treacherous enough without risking the sanctity of the meetings.

A respectful hush fell over those gathered as John Hancock entered, followed closely by Sam Adams. They were a study in contrasts, the rich merchant and the fiery orator. Hancock, impeccably groomed, was a perfect example of the successful Bostonian. Adams, his gray wig askew, his brown suit badly in need of pressing, his shoes scuffed, tended to look as if outward appearances meant nothing to him.

All listened attentively as Adams, furious and indignant over the news he’d just received, addressed the group first. In his usual impassioned manner, he bombarded those present with the outrageous revelation that, along with the terrible monopoly given the British East India Company over colonial trade, Governor Hutchinson had cleverly arranged to have his own sons appointed as agents for the tea, thus ensuring their own future riches at the expense of everyone else. Graft and corruption! Monopoly!

Local merchants would be driven out of business by the English dominance! The people would starve! And if Parliament could ordain a monopoly on tea, what was to stop them from setting up other singular controls?

Those at the meeting responded with indignant fury at the news Adams imparted, and a rumble of protest swept through the room.

“There is only one solution to these abuses!” he declared. “We must be freed from tyranny! We must be independent! It’s the only answer!”

Cheers of agreement answered his call, and Adams then relinquished the floor to Ryan Graves.

“I think we all are in accord with Sam’s assessment of our situation. We are sending notice to the other colonies through our Committee of Correspondence to try to block the sale of English tea, and while this may help, it will not end the problem.”