A British Heiress in America (Revolutionary Women Book 1)

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A British Heiress in America (Revolutionary Women Book 1) Page 10

by Becky Lower


  A glance across the room to the doorway where he’d made her sleep every night they’d been together didn't help his attitude. It was empty. Conjuring up her image had done nothing to produce her. Just as well.

  He should instead conjure up the images of his wife, Gladys, and their young daughter. Emma had clung to him like a burr on a dog’s butt for days after his arrival home. She was the reason he was so deeply embroiled in this conflict. His daughter had been only two when Gladys was struck down. Emma struggled now to piece together even one memory of Gladys. As compensation for the accident to his wife, the British awarded Daniel a ship and given the job of hauling supplies from England to the British forces in America.

  Thus, his duplicity had started. And now, there was Pippa.

  He could do as Sam suggested. He’d use Pippa to gain intelligence on the British and what they had up their collective sleeves. Emma might be without a mother, and right now, without a home to call her own, but he’d do what he could to rectify that. He’d pay a visit to Major Longfellow in the morning and ask permission to call on his niece. Emma deserved it. Gladys's memory deserved it. And if Pippa’s reputation or her heart suffered in his hands, it would be a spoil of war. He had known when he closed the door on her a few days ago that any kiss he’d have taken would not have been one-sided. He’d have to cage his own heart if he were to deal with her. And deal with her he would, at least until he could gauge her worth to the cause.

  So be it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Pippa breathed deeply as the final soldier left the parlor for the hospital at the barracks. She didn’t want to consider the fate of the poor men who hadn’t made it through the battle, their beds being emptied so more of the overflow could move into the hospital. But she did. The carnage she’d seen with her own eyes tied her stomach into knots each time she entered the parlor. Never again would she look at the room in the same way. Did Britain really hold the belief the continent of America was worth all this bloodshed? According to her uncle, the colonists killed over a thousand of their troops, and more than that were wounded, even though they could claim final victory.

  Pippa helped the maid fold the last blanket as Lieutenant Benson set the chairs back into their usual place. He glanced at Pippa as she stood; her gaze shifting to him from the far wall.

  “All’s back to normal now, my lady.” His voice was soft.

  She returned her gaze to the ivy wallpaper. “That’s where you're wrong, Lieutenant. Things will never again be normal.”

  “But very soon, we’ll hold a dance to celebrate our victory over the rebels. You’ll be the belle of the ball. It may not be as fancy as London, but you’ll again be the center of attention.” His glance slid over her, and she barely controlled the full-body tremor as his oily gaze fixated on her bosom. She spun around and left the room without responding. How the man could even consider dancing when so many had lost their ability to even stand disgusted her.

  She needed a cigar.

  She leaned up against the closed library door with an ear to the wood. A murmur of voices emanated from the other side, so Pippa proceeded down the hall and up the stairs. She still had one cheroot left from her earlier raid on Uncle Walter's stash of tobacco. She’d open the window and smoke it while she thought only pleasant thoughts. No war, no bloodshed, no mangled bodies. The last pleasant thought she’d had was of Daniel, with his arm around her waist, propelling her from the streets to the relative safety of this house. And then slamming the door in her face rather than kissing her. That’s about as pleasant as it got these days.

  She grimaced as she yanked open the window and lit up. The scent of the tobacco soothed her jangled nerves while she figured out her next steps. Unless she acquiesced to her father’s demand and accepted the withered older gentleman he’d selected for her to marry, she still had at least two hundred fifty days before she could consider returning to England. Perhaps the gentleman would pass on to the great beyond soon, removing himself from consideration. He certainly appeared as if he had one foot already in his grave. She gritted her teeth and chomped down on the cigar. Simply because she’d already been through three seasons was no reason for her father to deny her a fourth and declare her to wed Lord Decrepit. Yes, she had been picky during her first three seasons. None of the fine noble class of English gentlemen had set her body humming. Not the way Daniel had. It didn’t matter if he was from the working class and technically beneath her in rank. He lit a fire in her that now threatened to consume her.

  Damn the man, anyway. Now that she knew the way her body could respond to a man’s touch, would she ever be satisfied with another?

  She blew a superb, round smoke ring out the window as her lips tingled. The mere thought of Daniel’s gaze lingering on her lips made her breath catch in her throat. Whatever was she to do?

  She bit her tingling lips and her head snapped up as it became crystal clear what her path forward should be. Her aunt hadn’t specifically excluded Daniel from being invited to any event they hosted. Pippa would make certain he’d be on the guest list for the next ball and listen carefully to anything and everything he said while trying to ignore the sparks he aroused in her. Since he had friends in both the Rebel camp and the Loyalist camp, maybe she could glean a tidbit of information from him when his guard was down. She could then pass the knowledge on to her uncle, hastening the end to this blood-soaked conflict.

  And she would enjoy putting him into a position where his guard was down. She’d use every trick of enticement she’d polished during her three seasons in London and make him senseless with a craving for her. He already was interested in her. Now, he merely had to take the bait.

  Perhaps the next two hundred and fifty days could be quite entertaining. She’d spend as much time as she could in Daniel’s presence, hopefully to gain a nugget or two of information about what the rebels had planned. And, if she could pass along intelligence to her uncle that would help take this unruly continent to its knees, so much the better. Her plans formulated, she snuffed out the rest of the cigar to save for later.

  Time with Daniel. Her entire body, not just her lips, tingled at the thought.

  • ♥ •

  Major Longfellow leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together as he peered across the walnut desk. “That was quite the battle, eh, Daniel?”

  “I’m certain the commanding officers will discuss it for quite some time.” Daniel’s speech was careful, not crossing the fine line he’d created for himself. “At least all the bodies are now buried, so we have eradicated the threat of disease.”

  “Yes, well, there is that bit of good news in all this,” the major continued. “But I worry about this general, this Washington fellow. He’s developing a style that runs counter to what we're used to.”

  Daniel held his tongue. Of course, the Americans wouldn’t fight in the same manner the British were used to. They had no formal military training, more comfortable with using their rifles to kill game to feed their families. Washington was doing the best he could.

  The major scraped his hand over his chin, then raised his gaze again. “How long will it take you to repair the damage to your ship?”

  Daniel shrugged. “Perhaps a couple of weeks. She only suffered a bit of damage from that errant cannon. We’ll repair her and make certain she’s seaworthy before heading out again.” He glanced at the major. “That’s only part of the reason I asked to see you today.”

  The major stared across the desk. “What is the problem?”

  “No problem, sir. It’s just since I will be in town for a few weeks, I was hoping I could court your niece while I’m in Boston.”

  One eyebrow cocked up and the major’s grim face broke into a smile. “She is quite attractive, isn’t she?”

  Daniel crossed his hands over his unsettled stomach. The mission he was about to undertake was every bit as dangerous as smuggling goods and unsealing documents meant for the commanding officers of the British forces. Perha
ps more so. “Yes, sir. However, during the voyage over I was able to spend quality time with her and found her personality every bit as fetching as her appearance.”

  The major nodded. “She is quite the spitfire, I’ll admit. I wasn’t that familiar with her before you deposited her in our laps, but I’ve gotten better acquainted in the past few weeks.” The smile returned to his lips. “The first dinner Bernice had to welcome her, she told the ladies in attendance that short hair had become all the rage in England. I noticed the other day several of the women from that dinner had already cut their hair.”

  “Quite clever of her, I’d say, considering what really happened.” Daniel silently applauded Pippa.

  “Yes, wasn’t it something about her hair being whipped about on deck when she lost her bonnet and becoming entangled in the ropes?”

  That was the story she’d concocted? Daniel silently applauded her again. “It was quite windy on deck most days, which is how we were able to arrive weeks before the additional troops that are being sent over.”

  The major rapped his fingers on top of the desk. “Care for a cheroot while we discuss the matter further?”

  Daniel nodded, and the major leaned over, opening the cigar box and peering inside. “Damnation, only three left. I could have sworn I had more than that.” He handed one to Daniel and lit his own.

  Daniel could guess where the remainder of the major’s stash of cigars had gone. He grinned as he touched the candle to the end of his cheroot and inhaled the fine tobacco. Quite the spitfire.

  The major again leaned back in his chair and the pair smoked quietly for a few minutes. Daniel was sure the Englishmen who were just now entering Boston’s harbor were much better suited to a courtship of Lady Philippa Worthington, but if he were to carry out the mission Sam Adams had given him, he needed to get his position lined up now.

  Finally, the major sat upright and cleared his throat. “You are familiar enough with my niece to be aware that even though I might give my approval for you two to become better acquainted, it is up to her to say yea or nay.”

  Daniel finally took a breath. “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, then, I’ll have Bernice add you to the guest list for the soiree she’s hosting Saturday to welcome the new troops.”

  Daniel stood and snuffed out the butt of the cigar. “Thank you, sir. If Pippa will deem me worthy to spend time with her, you have my word I will treat her with the utmost respect, as I would any English lady.”

  “See that you do, Captain.”

  Daniel returned to the harbor where his ship had been docked for repair. An afternoon of hard physical labor would quell any doubts about using Pippa to gather intelligence for the Sons of Liberty. Once he’d agreed to take this course of action, he’d put his heart back into the locked cage where it had resided since Gladys’s death. Seeing Pippa again in her boy’s clothing and roaming the unruly streets of Boston alone had torn open that cage and his heart had risen to his throat. He safely got her off the streets and returned her to the house. And then, in spite of the fact he was running late, and she’d interfered with him getting to the harbor to sail his ship safely out of the path of danger, he hesitated for a long moment at the back door. Her lips were tempting him, taunting him as if she were a mermaid siren at sea. Her cheeky grin made him aware she knew the effect she was having on him and she closed her eyes, waiting for the expected kiss.

  It had taken every ounce of restraint to close the door on her. Now he needed to once again close the door to his heart, since he’d gotten permission to call on her.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Aunt Bernice, if you don’t mind, I’ll take Molly with me and do a bit of shopping this morning.” Pippa buttered a biscuit and took a sip of tea at the well-appointed breakfast table, hoping to appear nonchalant. She had learned the previous evening that the Gladys Maria suffered some damage in the Bunker Hill battle and was in the harbor for repair. It was an excellent time to see Daniel again. She could return the dress she’d borrowed upon her arrival in Boston. It was a great excuse. It had been a week or more since she’d seen him and she missed his daily presence in her life.

  “That will be fine, although I’d rather you take Lieutenant Benson with you for protection.” Bernice glanced up from the newspaper she was reading. “The streets of Boston have become very dangerous for the Loyalists.”

  Pippa did not wish to have the simpering lieutenant accompany her. Especially not if she was going to the docks to find Daniel. “Molly will be just fine, Auntie. I’m sure the lieutenant has better things to do than to accompany me as I wander from one shop after another.”

  “Well, you do need some things to round out your wardrobe for the dance on Saturday. Even though Molly will flirt with every man you come across, I guess she will do.” Her aunt eyed the platter of biscuits. “Are you going to eat any more of these?”

  Pippa no longer needed food. What she craved was Daniel. “No, Auntie, they’re all yours. I must get ready.” She left the breakfast table as quickly as she could. She wanted her aunt to focus on the platter of biscuits and not on Pippa’s outing, so she needed to escape before her aunt regained her senses and asked more questions.

  Her aunt was correct about Boston becoming more and more unsafe. Even though the British had eked out a victory at tremendous cost to their ranks, the tide had taken a turn in the patriots’ favor. This newly appointed general, Washington, could pose a problem. Perhaps Daniel was friends with him and could impart some valuable information about a planned battle to her that she could pass on to her uncle. She’d use all her feminine wiles and make him forget he was conversing with the enemy. Make him forget he had a dead wife. Of course, she was returning said dead wife’s gown to him, which would serve as a visual reminder. But she also had three years of debutante training on which to draw.

  Her racing heartbeat revealed the only flaw in her plan. Damn the man for being so delectable. For the good of England, she must keep her emotions under control. Never let him slam the door in her face again.

  She adjusted the ribbons on her bonnet, picked up the dress that belonged to Daniel’s wife, and rounded up Molly. “Let's head to town, Molly. Grab your bonnet and let’s go.”

  Perhaps she could buy her own stash of cigars, under the guise of purchasing them for her uncle. Then she wouldn’t feel so guilty about taking his.

  Pippa bought a fan at the first shop they entered. If Boston’s dance halls were anything like those in London, the room would become stifling in a matter of minutes, and a fan would come in handy.

  “You’ll be needin’ some gloves, too, my lady.” Molly held up a pair for Pippa’s consideration.

  “Yes, fine, Molly.” She grabbed the gloves and spun around to the shopkeeper. “The fan and the gloves, please, sir.” Pippa had tired of shopping already. The selection wasn’t nearly as good as in the shops of London, and she regretted spending any of her aunt’s money on such inferior merchandise. Besides, she wished to get on with her real mission.

  They exited the shop and Pippa took a step in the harbor’s direction.

  Molly grabbed her arm. “Wrong way, my lady.”

  Pippa wrenched her arm away. “I need to return something to the captain.”

  “But the harbor’s not sa-safe for two women alone.” Molly’s voice quivered, and she brushed a stray strand of red hair from her face. Her smattering of freckles stood out in stark relief as her face lost its color.

  Pippa picked up the hem of her skirt and strode off. “You can return home if you so choose. It’s past time I return the gown.”

  Molly ran to catch up and took a gulp of air. “I canna let you go alone. Your aunt would dismiss me iffen I did. A fine English lady such as yourself would be a real prize to some ruffian on the streets.”

  “We’ll only be a minute. I promise.” Pippa took Molly’s hand and led her to the docks, inhaling deeply of the familiar salty air. It took every ounce of restraint to keep from picking up her skirts even more
and running toward Daniel.

  Her racing heart told her she wished for more than a few minutes with Daniel. In private, in the small captain's cabin, alone. She craved enough time for him to undo her buttons and run his callused thumbs over her nipples. She straightened. Of course, her wish was only so she could make him senseless with lust so she could gather information to pass along. She bit her lower lip and hoped she could make him senseless while keeping her own head about her. Could she keep up her subterfuge without giving away her heart?

  • ♥ •

  Pippa stood on the dock, staring up at the Gladys Maria, her heart pumping. The voyage from England on this vessel had been the start of the most exciting time of her life. She grimaced in dismay at the hole torn into the side of the ship from the errant cannon ball. A couple of men were hanging over the side of the ship in hastily made slings while they worked on patching up the hole.

  “Ahoy, Gladys Maria!” So far, Pippa had seen no familiar faces and had no wish to just clamber on board and be in the midst of a bunch of strangers. She tapped her toe on the wooden dock and waited.

  A small head popped up from behind a barrel on the main deck. A tiny girl with hair of spun gold held a stick in her hands like a rifle. Her weapon was pointed right at Pippa. “Who goes there?”

  Pippa tried to keep the smile from her face. “Pippa Worthington, requesting permission to come aboard.”

  The girl darted out from behind the barrel, still training the stick on Pippa. And stood with her legs apart, guarding the entrance. “Why do you want to board the ship?”

  “Emma! That’s enough.” Daniel emerged from below deck with a bucket of hot pitch in his hands. He lowered the pitch over the side of the ship to the men who were repairing it, and straightened, placing a hand on top of the girl’s golden hair. Only then did he hazard a glance at the dock where Pippa stood, Molly at her back. Pippa’s thumping heart skipped a beat and her mouth lost all moisture.

 

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