“How long till the king’s soldiers come pounding on the door, Graves?” someone else shouted. “The man could be a spy!”

“I’ve checked him out,” Joshua Smith related firmly.

Noah spoke up, “I am no spy and you need not fear that I will reveal any of what passes here tonight to the authorities, even if we do not come to an agreement. You see, I have as much to lose as you do, if my dealings with you are disclosed.”

The gathering quieted as he went on to tell them more.

“Before I sailed from London, I was advised by a nameless contact to get in touch with Mr. Smith here when I arrived in Boston. The contact said you might be interested in what I have to sell. Knowing that there is a great possibility that hostilities might erupt soon, and being the businessman that I am, when I made port I directed my man to attempt to locate your leaders. He met with Smith to tell him of our shipment, and after clearing things with Mr. Graves, Smith came to me. Smith saw to it that I was blindfolded for the major part of the trek to your meeting place. The location of your rendezvous point will remain your secret.”

There was a murmuring of approval at the tactics so far employed.

“I am here strictly to offer you a product for a price,” Noah relayed dispassionately. “If you’re not interested, there are others who are.”

“What are you selling and how much?” a cautious voice called out.

“Three thousand pounds,” Noah intoned emotionlessly, “for a shipment of the finest-quality flintlock muskets, gunpowder, rounds, and cartouche boxes. The Pride’s also carrying field guns, cannon shot, and grapeshot. I doubt, gentlemen, that you’ll get another opportunity like this one.”

Dead silence gripped the room as leaders and followers alike tried to grasp the enormous amount being demanded for the goods.

“Would you be willing to sell us only a portion of the shipment?”

“It’s all or nothing, sir. As I’m sure you’re aware, I do have other alternatives. I’m sure agents of the Crown would be more than willing to pay my price.” Noah was unbending in his response.

CC gritted her teeth as she heard his last remark. Agents of the Crown! Her own father! Kincade was a mercenary of the first order!

“Sir, it will be necessary for us to discuss this further,” Graves said, deferring an immediate decision. Indeed, if it had come to that, he would have been forced to decline. Money was the problem.

“Of course. If you like, I can wait outside.”

“Smith…” Graves called for the man to escort him from the inner chamber to allow them privacy.

The discussion that followed was lively, as those present argued both for and against the purchase of the weapons. John joined in, ardently opposing the purchase. He was one of many who feared that by buying the weapons, they would be admitting that there was no further hope for peaceful negotiations with Parliament to rectify the very real problems that existed between them.

CC, however, was too caught up in her own emotions regarding Kincade’s treacherous appearance, and she intended to get to the bottom of his ploy, whatever it was. Drawing as little notice to herself as possible, she left her seat at John’s side while he was embroiled in the discussion with the others and exited the meeting room, heading in the same direction as Smith had taken Kincade. She came upon them, standing in silence in the darkness just beyond the rear door of the stables below.

“Smith,” she called out to Joshua, “I’m sure they’ll want our input. I’ll stay with our guest.”

The unusual inflection CC gave the last word caused Smith to pause, but he shrugged off her obvious distaste for Kincade, believing her to be one of those who opposed the purchase of the war supplies. With a nod, he left her in charge of the Englishman as he returned to the meeting to add his opinion to the discussion.

Noah thought the youth’s voice sounded familiar, but his thoughts were too filled with anticipating the rebels’ decision to give it much consideration. Perhaps, he thought distractedly, the boy worked at the inn and he’d met him there at some other time.

“You! You lowlife swine!” CC’s volatile temper flared to full fury as she glared at him through the night’s enveloping gloom. She didn’t bother to wonder why his duplicity annoyed her so much. She had disliked him from the first, and this discovery of his true character only built on that initial aversion.

“I beg your pardon?” Noah glanced at the short youngster with mild amusement.

“You’re despicable! You think that if you play both sides against the middle, you’ll come out a winner either way, don’t you?” she seethed self-righteously.

The challenge in her words was unmistakable, and Noah pivoted to face her, keeping his expression carefully blank.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, son. And besides, aren’t you a little young to be involved in such goings on?” he questioned derisively, hoping to shut the boy up and put him in his place.

“You’re a double-dealing coward!” CC couldn’t believe his audacity. He was amoral and two-faced. He claimed to be a loyal Englishman, and yet he showed no hesitation in turning around and selling the arms to the very people who would use those weapons against the British.

Her words hit her mark. The last man who had referred to a Kincade as a coward was dead. Noah instinctively reacted to the insult, his hands snaking out to viciously grab her by her upper arms and drag her forcefully closer. CC had meant to berate him, but she had never expected him to respond with physical violence. She struggled against his overpowering strength, twisting and tugging in her need to be free of his bruising hold.

“Let me go, you bloody English dog!” With all her might, she kicked out at his shins, and she knew a moment of pure, triumphant pleasure as her foot connected and he grunted in pain.

“You little guttersnipe!” Noah growled threateningly.

CC’s moment of victory was lost as Kincade snatched her to him by her shirtfront, popping several buttons off. He paid little attention to the damage to her garments as he almost lifted her from her feet to shake her in anger, the action knocking her hat from her head. Released from its bondage beneath the tricorn, CC’s glorious mane of thick auburn curls fell in riotous satiny waves to her slim shoulders, revealing to Noah for the first time her true gender and, after a stunned moment, her real identity.

Noah went still as he stared down at her in disbelief. Cecelia Demorest? How could it be? What was she doing dressed as a lad? And, more important, what was she doing involved in this group?

“Let me go!” CC demanded, her breasts heaving in agitation. She ached all over from the mauling she’d just received at his hands, and she was very aware of the firm grip he had on her now ruined shirt, for his clenched knuckles were pressing firmly against the softness of her disguised bosom. The contact created an unfamiliar stirring deep within her loins, and she twisted, trying to pull herself free and get away from the pressure.

“Oh no, Miss Demorest.” Noah smiled wolfishly as he studied her closely. “I’ve suffered enough of your insults. It’s time I demanded and received some satisfaction from you.”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her words were a breathless whisper as she stilled and stared up at him, emerald eyes wide with fright. CC had felt no fear in attacking him before, but now something new pulsed through her, and the strength of the unknown emotion frightened her. Her expressive features mirrored her terror, and Noah read her perfectly. It pleased him, oddly enough, to think that he had her at a disadvantage.

“Then I will show you what I mean…” he growled, his head dipping to allow his lips to claim hers.

It was a dominating kiss-a kiss designed to humiliate and conquer. CC again began to struggle, wanting-no, needing-to be away from him, but Noah would have none of it. His free hand reached up to tangle in her hair firmly and hold her immobile. With masterful intent, Noah possessed her mouth, his tongue penetrating and pillaging the inner honeyed sweetness.