Bobbi Smith - Captive Pride

It was a soft kiss, a gentle exchange, nothing like the disgusting advances of the soldiers. It sent a thrill of physical awareness through Faith unlike anything she’d ever felt before and made her all the more determined to flee. Breaking the contact, she darted toward the door, throwing it wide in her need to escape.

“Faith…” Matt was caught off guard by her action. Only when his startled eyes met hers and witnessed the wariness there did he think he understood his mistake. He shouldn’t have touched her…shouldn’t have taken advantage of her trust. She had been so abused, and he had frightened her away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…please stay…”

“No…I can’t…” Faith had to get away from his overwhelming presence. The kiss had only emphasized the need. She was vulnerable, her defenses were down, and he was perfect, everything she’d ever wanted in a man, but he was beyond her reach. “I have to go…”

With that she disappeared into the hall, dashing for the stairs. Matt stood perfectly still, stunned by all that had happened. She was gone. He hesitated only an instant before running after her, but as he started from the room, he ran headlong into Noah. The jolt of the impact jarred them both.

“Matt? What the hell…?” Noah grasped him by the shoulders to steady them both.

“It’s Faith…”

“Faith?” he frowned.

“The girl. She just ran out, and I was trying to catch up to her.” Matt shifted free of Noah’s grip and hurried to the top of the staircase, only to find to his dismay that she’d already gone from sight.

“What happened?” Noah asked as he came up behind him.

Matt did not want to answer, for he believed that the blunder he’d made in kissing her had frightened her away, and he felt more than a little ashamed.

“Nothing,” he answered curtly.

“Nothing? Then why were you chasing her down the hall?”

“I wasn’t chasing her down the hall,” he denied. “I just didn’t think she should be up and about yet, that’s all.”

“Oh.” Noah knew that there was more to the moment than his brother was ready to confess, but he let it drop. “Join me for breakfast, then?”

Matt wanted to race after her. He knew her address. He knew he could hire a conveyance and reach her home before she did, but he did not. He was certain that he was the last person in the world she would want to see.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Matt remarked. “Why don’t you join me?” And he led the way back to his room.

Standing before the mirror above the washstand in his room, Noah finished arranging his neck cloth into a precise style. He then donned his ivory satin waistcoat and quickly buttoned the polished gold buttons. Noah had always disdained the ornately embroidered fashions of his contemporaries, thinking them particularly dandyish, and instead had favored a more understated style, one that enhanced the man and not the clothes.

His peers in London had often chided him for not following the current trends, but the ladies had thought him daring. His elegantly tailored wardrobe had emphasized the lean power of his manly form, and the women had found him near to irresistible.

Noah was not remembering London society, though, as he drew on the unadorned black velvet cutaway coat he’d selected to wear to the Demorests’ ball. Instead, he was thinking of CC. There was unfinished business between them, and he wondered how she was going to handle welcoming him to her home tonight. Would she welcome him openly and make him feel at home as she’d promised her father before their first meeting? A brief, leering smile played about his lips at the thought. Or would she try to stay out of his way and ignore him as much as possible? There was only one thing he knew for sure. It was going to be interesting seeing how she handled herself in front of her father’s loyalist friends. Turning back to the mirror, he surveyed himself critically. Satisfied that he looked his best, he paused to idly adjust his ruffled cuffs when a knock sounded on his door.

“Noah, it’s me…” Matt called out.

“Come on in,” he responded.

“Are you about ready? It’s well after eight,” Matt told him as he let himself into the room. Since his fateful encounter with Faith Hammond early the day before, Matthew had thought of little else, and he was looking forward to the diversion the ball would present. The young colonial woman had haunted his thoughts ever since she’d rushed from the inn and out of his life. Though he had been tempted on several occasions to go to her home, he had held himself back. She had suffered enough. By leaving as she did, she had let him know how she felt in no uncertain terms, and he knew there was no point in pursuing it.

“Just about,” Noah answered. Studying his brother’s reflection in the mirror before him, he was impressed by the fine figure of a man Matt presented. Though his evening dress was not as starkly plain as his own, Matt had chosen well. Playing down the fancy embellishments so popular with others, he had opted for a simple gold-thread design on his dark blue vest, down the front of his matching coat, and about the deep cuffs. The results were striking on the younger man. Matthew was no fop, and Noah was pleased.

“Well done, Matt. You look quite the man-about-town.”

Matt was pleased by his brother’s compliment. He had always admired Noah’s taste in clothes and had tried to emulate his style to a certain degree. “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me. It’s quite the truth,” Noah assured him. “Has the carriage arrived yet?”

“Yes, it pulled up just a minute ago.”

“Let’s be on our way then,” he encouraged, and they started below.

“Tell me about the Demorests,” Matt urged a short time later as the conveyance they’d hired made its way through the winding streets of Boston toward the Demorest home. “You’ve said very little about them, save that Edward Demorest is the agent you’re dealing with here in the colonies.”

“There’s little else to tell.” Noah, immersed in thoughts of his upcoming confrontation with CC, wanted to avoid his brother’s probing questions.

“I’m rather looking forward to making some acquaintances tonight,” he went on. “My interest in the colonies has grown, and I want to learn more about their way of life.”

“Don’t get too enamored with the way things are here,” Noah warned.

“I know, I know,” Matt sighed. “We’re returning to England in the spring, but still, there’s no reason why I shouldn’t find out all I can while I have the opportunity. Who knows? Maybe someday in the future I’ll return on my own.”

Noah could see no reason for his continued interest, but he let it go. If Matt’s interest in the colonies kept him occupied and out of his way while he took care of business, he was all for it.

“Does Demorest have a family?”

“One daughter,” came Noah’s curt reply as a vision of CC dressed in her boy’s garb danced before him.

“Oh? What’s she like?”

The question was a simple one, but Noah found himself groping for an appropriate answer. How could he describe a chit who one moment had been spouting off about her dislike of English aristocracy and the next had been the picture of decorum? Or how could he explain her involvement in political intrigue and dressing as a boy? CC Demorest was a hotheaded, stubborn, and opinionated female; all the things a woman should not be, in his judgment. Yet the memory of her kiss and the smooth ivory silk of her skin sent a rush of excitement through him. Yes, Noah vowed silently as he fought to subdue his desire, there definitely was unfinished business between them.

“She’s pretty,” he finally answered abstractly, gaining Matt’s immediate attention.