The Rebel Bride (Civil War Brides Series, #5)

by Piper Davenport

  All of a sudden, she heard yelling in the distance. She chose to ignore it.

  I wish I had my iPod with me.

  “Victoria!”

  The shout registered slowly in her mind and she turned to see a horse and rider coming straight for her. “Quincy?” She raised her hand and shielded her eyes as she slowed down.

  He pulled up beside her and dismounted, his horse panting with obvious exertion. “Where the hell are you going?” he yelled as he grabbed her arm.

  “What do you mean?” she asked, trying to pull out of his grip.

  “Don’t play coy with me, Victoria. Where are you going?”

  “I was going for a run. What’s going on?”

  Quincy paced.

  “Quinn?” She placed her hand on his arm. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

  “Where were you going?”

  “Like I said... I was going for a run.” She squeezed his forearm. “What did you think I was doing?”

  “I thought you were leaving,” he said quietly.

  “Leaving?” She raised an eyebrow. “You?”

  Quincy nodded. “Yes.”

  “Because of our fight last night?”

  He shook his head. “I wasn’t certain.”

  “Honey. It’ll take more than a fight to get rid of me.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. “Should you be riding with your shoulder?”

  “My shoulder is fine.” He leaned down and kissed her, gently cupping her face. “Why were you running?”

  “I woke up early and needed to get rid of some stress.”

  “Why are you distressed?”

  She let out a quiet snort. “I can’t fathom why, what with a man who’s ugly and always fully clothed.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “You should come with me some time.”

  “You won’t be doing this again, Victoria.” Quincy straightened. “Especially dressed like that.”

  “Dressed like what?” she asked. “You mean my jeans?”

  He nodded. “What you’re wearing is entirely too revealing, not to mention it’s men’s clothing.”

  “What do you mean by revealing?”

  “It fits you entirely too well.”

  Pulling her arms from his waist, she stared at him in disbelief. “You are joking, right?”

  “It’s completely inappropriate for you to be in public dressed like that.”

  “You say that as though I’m dressed like a prostitute.”

  He glared at her.

  “You think I’m dressed like a whore?”

  “Victoria, your clothing is tight, and certain parts of you that should not be visible, are.” Quincy sighed. “You need to change.”

  She shook her head. “Not gonna happen.”

  “I’ll take you back to the house and you’ll change.”

  “No, you will not. I will not.”

  “You will obey me in this, Victoria.”

  “You are not my father!”

  Quincy crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Victoria, do not press me.”

  Victoria widened her eyes. “Seriously? You’re going for dictator? It’s not a particularly attractive side of you, I have to say.”

  “Victoria,” he growled.

  Fisting her hands at her sides, she glared at him. “Oh, wait, I’m sorry. I didn’t understand before. Now that you’re using that tone, I see that you’re quite resigned to your decision. It’s a good thing I’m the subservient type, because, obviously, I will acquiesce to every decision you make. You are, after all, a big strong man and I am but a simple woman.”

  “Rebel.”

  She shook her head. “No, Quincy, you don’t need to say anything further. I should have asked your permission to leave the house. In fact, I probably should have asked permission to leave my room. I will remember that in the future. With my next boyfriend. Someone who isn’t you.”

  Taking off at a mad pace, she ran as though her life depended on it. She muttered to herself that she was done with men forever and would die a spinster. She couldn’t remember a time she had ever been angrier.

  * * *

  It took Quinn a few seconds to shake off the shock and remount his horse. He rode toward the retreating Victoria, entirely off-balance by what just happened. He couldn’t dwell on it long, as he watched in horror as she stumbled and fell to the ground. She screamed as she went down and sat back up, grabbing her calf.

  He threw himself off his horse while it was still moving and ran to her. “Sweetheart, what’s amiss?”

  “Cramp,” she said as she tried to stand.

  “Let me help.”

  She smacked at his hands. “No, leave me alone. You’ve done quite enough... not to mention you have a freakin’ hole in your shoulder.” She struggled to her feet and leaned on her foot, only to cry out again and grasp for his arm.

  “Come here, my beautiful rebel,” he crooned as he wrapped his good arm around her waist.

  “I think I hate you right now,” she grumbled.

  Quincy laughed. “I know, sweetheart.” Quincy helped her onto his horse and then jumped up behind her. They found Christopher awake and in the parlor with Clayton and Emma.

  “What happened?” Emma rushed over to assist.

  “Charlie horse,” Victoria said.

  “Ouch!” Emma motioned to the sofa. “Set her there, please, Quincy.”

  “Is Hannah here?” Victoria asked.

  “Yes, Stephen let me move her so we could all be close, at least until we have to leave,” Christopher answered.

  “Good,” Victoria said.

  Quinn helped her limp to the sofa and Emma sat on the footstool. Emma pulled Victoria’s leg onto her lap and began to massage the calf.

  “Ow, ow, ow!” Victoria squealed.

  “I know, Victoria, but I have to work it out.” Emma added pressure to her leg.

  Quincy hovered with concern.

  “You can go away now,” Victoria snapped.

  Quincy shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I know you’re all right.”

  “Go away. You have been officially dumped and no longer have the right to be concerned.” Victoria waved her hand at him. “Go be with Millicent. She’s far better for you anyway.”

  “Victoria,” he whispered.

  Victoria turned to his brother, her face red with a combination of frustration and pain. “Christopher? How do you dump someone in this century? Am I not using the right words, because your brother is acting a bit like a pimple on my ass, and I’d like him to go away!”

  “I think you’ve made your point quite succinctly, Victoria,” Christopher answered.

  She winced as Emma hit a particularly sore spot and then turned to Quincy. “Go. Away.”

  “Let’s get some breakfast, Quinn.” Christopher pulled Quincy out of the room, with Clayton following.

  Quincy heard Victoria squeal again and he turned to walk back in the room, but Christopher stopped him. “Quinn, I don’t know what you did, but I would suggest you not incite her ire any further at the present time.”

  “I did nothing.”

  “Forgive me then, little brother. She must have broken off your courtship without cause.”

  “The courtship stands.”

  Clayton and Christopher chuckled as they led him into the dining room.

  * * *

  Back in the parlor, Emma continued her attention to Victoria’s leg. “What happened?”

  “Charlie horse.”

  Emma squeezed a little harder, eliciting a whimper from Victoria. “I meant, what happened with Quincy?”

  “It’s a long, stupid story,” Victoria grumbled.

  “Oh?”

  “He’s such an asshole, Emma!” Victoria relayed the morning and her subsequent fight with Quincy. Emma listened intently as she continued to massage her leg. “Then, he stood there and told me I was never allowed to run again and that my jeans were inappropriate.”

  Emma smiled. “Too revealing?”


  “Yes!”

  “Men’s clothing?”

  “Yes!” Victoria leaned forward. “Wait, how did you know?”

  Emma giggled. “Been there.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yes. Of course, I was in a lot more trouble, because it was a dance leotard.” Emma sighed. “I think Clayton would have been thrilled to find me in public in jeans, but when he saw me in tights and boy shorts, he nearly had a coronary.”

  Victoria laughed.

  “There is one thing you might want to think about though,” Emma said.

  “What’s that?”

  “If you go out in modern clothing, it might raise some questions.”

  “I hadn’t thought about that,” Victoria admitted. “I was too angry about the dictating.”

  “Is that the reason you broke off your courtship?”

  Victoria sunk deeper into her seat. “Not just that specifically.”

  Emma stopped massaging her leg. “Victoria, this time is all new to us. Sophie’s the only one who got to fall in love and marry a modern man. The rest of us are in a sea of chauvinism we haven’t yet learned to free-stroke in. I’m sure Quincy is just as confused, but if you give him a chance, I think you can work this out.”

  “You have it wrong, Emma. I’m well acquainted with chauvinism. You should meet my dad. And my brothers. Not to mention my uncles. Oh, and a few of my ex-boyfriends.” She checked each off with her fingers.

  Emma smiled. “I still think you should give Quinn a chance. If he’s anything like his brother, he’s a really good guy.”

  Victoria dragged her hands down her face. “I don’t know if I can. I can’t stand male chauvinists. I have no patience for it, and I’m not interested in being with someone who is one.” Standing in an attempt to escape the conversation, Victoria turned to face Emma. “Thank you for working out my muscle, Em. I’m going to go up and check on Hannah.” She left the parlor, limped her way upstairs, and knocked on Hannah’s door.

  “Come in,” Hannah said.

  “Hi.”

  Hannah laid her book aside. “Hi, Victoria. Did you go for a run?”

  “Don’t get me started.” Victoria flopped onto the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “I feel fine. What’s wrong?”

  Once again, Victoria relayed her fight with Quincy.

  “... and then, he picked me up and virtually carried me here. Could I have been more humiliated?”

  “Oh, Victoria,” Hannah said, giggling.

  “It’s not funny.”

  “Poor Quincy.”

  Standing, Victoria started to pace, her calf still smarting with each step. “Poor Quincy? He called me a prostitute! He’s an ass and you’re sympathizing with him? Ouch!”

  “Victoria, come here.” Hannah patted the mattress. “Sit.”

  Victoria huffed as she sat on the bed facing Hannah.

  “One. The fact you went out in modern clothing wasn’t the smartest thing to do.”

  Victoria drew shapes on the quilt with her index finger. “I realize that now.”

  “Two. He’s not a modern man, lovey. Well, he’s a modern man for this century, but not for ours. I know the issues you’ve had with the men in your life and, yes, Quinn probably has a few of those traits, but only because he’s been raised that way—”

  Victoria huffed again.

  “—and not because he chooses to ignore the modern world.”

  “He’s a jerk,” Victoria grumbled.

  “No, he’s not and you know it.” Hannah waved a finger at her. “He’s in love with a woman who acts differently than anyone he’s ever known.”

  “Well, then she should be very happy with him.”

  “You have to give him a chance.”

  Victoria shook her head. “I do not.”

  “No, you’re right. You don’t.” Hannah squeezed her hand. “But I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

  “How’s the baby?”

  “The baby’s fine. Don’t change the subject. Do you love him?”

  She didn’t answer right away.

  “Victoria?”

  “Hannah?” she mimicked.

  Hannah smiled. “Do you love him?”

  “Yes, I love the big fat jerk, but do I really need to give him a chance?”

  Hannah raised an eyebrow in question. “Do you want to be happy?”

  “Do you want to be happy?” Victoria retorted in a sing-song voice. “I hate it when you’re logical.”

  “It’s a gift.” Hannah chuckled.

  “Enough about me, let’s change the subject. How are you really?”

  Hannah laid her hand protectively on her stomach. “I’m great. The baby moves constantly and there’s no more bleeding or pain. Just a bit of cabin fever.”

  “Do you really need to be in bed for the rest of your pregnancy? No dancing?”

  Hannah shrugged. “Stephen might let me off bed rest eventually, but there would be no way he’d say okay to dancing. Even if he did, Christopher wouldn’t.”

  Victoria snorted. “And you would just stand by and let your husband dictate to you that way?”

  “Lovey, he wouldn’t be dictating. He’d be concerned for the baby.”

  “Sounds like dictatorship to me.”

  Taking Victoria’s hand again and squeezing, Hannah cocked her head slightly. “I think I have just figured out your problem.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Victoria snapped as she pulled her hand away.

  “You’re confusing submission with subservience.”

  “They’re the same thing!” Victoria stood and started to pace.

  “They aren’t. That’s my point. Subservience is being held under someone’s oppressive thumb. Submission is walking hand in hand alongside someone but trusting where they’re leading you.”

  “Sounds the same to me,” Victoria grumbled.

  Hannah giggled. “Okay, missie. Couple’s counseling is over for today.”

  The door opened, and Christopher walked in carrying a tray.

  “I’ll leave you to eat your breakfast,” Victoria said, and kissed Hannah on the cheek.

  As Victoria walked out of the room, she glanced down to untie her hoodie from her waist, however, she quickly realized she had tied it tighter than she thought and stopped to try and work the knot out.

  “Let me.”

  Her head whipped up to see Quincy standing in front of her. “How do you do that?”

  “Do what, sweetheart?”

  “Don’t call me sweetheart,” she ordered. “How do you walk on air?”

  He reached to work out the knot. “I’m a trained soldier, sweetheart.”

  “We broke up.” She pushed his hands away. “Don’t call me sweetheart. You have one usable arm, I’ll untie this.”

  “I am perfectly capable to untie this, sweetheart. We need to talk.”

  Victoria bit her lip. “Did you forget I’m not speaking to you?”

  Quincy gave her a crooked smile. “I have not forgotten... sweetheart.”

  Victoria grunted in frustration. He quickly untied her sweatshirt and handed it to her.

  “I need to change. We can talk later,” she said as she moved around him and opened the door to her room. She crossed the threshold and closed the door behind her.

  “We’ll talk now, sweetheart,” Quincy said as he walked into the room.

  Victoria took a deep breath and crossed her arms. “Fine. Talk.”

  He closed the distance between them. “I love you, Victoria. I know I hurt you, but please believe it was inadvertently. I hope you can forgive me.” He stroked her cheek. “Help me to do this right. I can’t lose you.”

  “Quinn,” she whispered, tears once again filling her eyes. “I love you, too. Jerk.”

  He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her.

  “This is really hard for me,” she admitted.

  “Why?”

  “Well, I have a lot of baggage.” She wrapped her arms a
round his waist. “Sometimes you remind me of my father and I react badly.”

  “What does luggage have to do with this?”

  She chuckled. “It’s an expression. I haven’t had the best track record with men, as I have told you, and sometimes I react first and listen later.”

  “Victoria, I’m not your father... or Logan.”

  “I know. I will try to remember that. I’m sorry I broke off our courtship. Do you understand why now?”

  “Not fully, but I am trying.”

  Victoria sighed, dropping her head to his chest. “I appreciate that.”

  Quincy sighed. “There’s something I need to speak with you about, but I believe it’s going to upset you.”

  “What?” she asked in suspicion.

  “I have to go to D.C. tomorrow.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  Quincy shrugged. “I don’t know. Possibly a few weeks.”

  “When did you find all this out?”

  “I received a message this morning. Marcus has been wounded and taken to D.C.”

  “Your second in command?”

  Quincy nodded.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” she snapped, and he stared incredulously at her. Victoria frowned. “Don’t look at me that way.”

  “You’re being vexing,” he accused.

  “And you’re being evasive,” she snapped.

  He pulled her into his arms and leaned down to kiss her. Her hands automatically found their way to his chest. When he broke the kiss, he looked down at her. “I apologize. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

  He moved to leave the room, but she pulled him back. “Gus!”

  Quincy chuckled. “I love you, little rebel. No more of this nonsense. You either commit to me now, or not at all. I will never intentionally hurt you and I promise that I will try not to jump to conclusions. I would appreciate it if you would do the same.”

  Victoria raised an eyebrow. “Hmm. How do you expect to do that?”

  “We’ll speak to each other.”

  “What? You’re suggesting we communicate? No!”

  He sighed. “Vexing little minx, driving me mad.”

  “I think you’re doing a fine job of that all by yourself.” Victoria dragged her lower lip between her teeth. “I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t value my opinion, Quincy. I’m not some nineteenth-century subservient woman who is willing to sit around and let “my man” make all of the decisions. I’m not interested in anything less than a partnership. Since you obviously can’t give me that, we should not continue this courtship.”