CC actually considered that for a long moment before answering, and then, when she finally did respond, she surprised her friends again. “I would never judge a man by how well his pockets were lined. It’s his personal integrity that counts.”

“You mean you’d be willing to marry a poor man?” Marianna was curious.

“If he was the man I loved, then yes. It wouldn’t matter,” she replied with conviction. “A lack of money will never be a deciding factor in my falling in love with a man.”

“How noble of you. Shall I send word to all the tall, dark, handsome men of Boston to come courting no matter what their finances?” Marianna bantered.

“Don’t you dare, Marianna!” CC laughed, her eyes twinkling merrily.

“What about John?” Margaret asked, knowing that CC had been seeing John Robinson steadily for some time.

“I like John, but I’m not in love with him.” She said it almost regretfully. John was a good man and they got on well together, but CC could never even consider a lifelong commitment to someone she didn’t love. Besides, the secret that she and John shared was far more important than love. “I’m more than happy to continue as I am until the right man does come along,” she added, giving her friends hope that she did indeed want to marry.

“And he will,” Marianna said sagely. “Mark my words. When you least expect him, you’re going to look up and there he’ll be.”

“How heavenly!” Caroline sighed.

“It happens that way often,” Margaret agreed.

CC smiled noncommittally at their musings, silently thinking that they were all hopeless romantics. She’d been courted by far too many attractive men to think that some handsome stranger was going to sweep her off her feet, but she decided to humor her friends.

“Well, when it finally does happen and I do fall in love,” CC promised, “you’ll be among the first to know.”

Chapter Two

Boston, Six Weeks Later

The taproom at the Red Lion Inn was crowded as Noah and Matthew made their way to the only vacant table in the establishment. Noah, deep in his own thoughts, paid little real attention to their surroundings, but Matt was alert, trying to absorb every facet of life in the colonies.

Since they’d arrived in port that morning, the younger man had become intrigued with Boston. Noah had left him to his own devices while he and Captain Russell had dealt with the port authorities, and Matt had taken the opportunity to tour the city on foot. He’d left the crowded wharf behind with its clog of merchandise and, steering clear of the tenement section of town as Russell had advised, had followed the narrow, winding streets through the multitude of small shops and businesses to the elegant area overlooking the Boston Common. Stately mansions stood in regal testimony to the type of life that could be had in the colonies, and Matt found himself becoming more and more impressed with America. There was a vitality in the air, a freshness of spirit that he’d never seen in London, and he marveled at it.

“You know, Noah, I could come to like this town,” Matt remarked as he slipped into the chair opposite his brother’s.

“It’s certainly different,” Noah answered unenthusiastically. He’d had little time to see the sights and, in fact, was unexcited about doing so. His business interests were foremost in his mind right now; that and returning to England.

Polly, the comely, well-endowed barmaid, sidled up to the table to take their order. “Good evening, gents. What can I get for you tonight?” She eyed both men with interest, for they were not only gentlemen of the highest caliber, but they were good-looking, too. Noah ordered succinctly, requesting that their ale be brought right away, and Polly hurried off to do his bidding, returning quickly with two brimming mugs of brew.

“Your meal will be ready soon,” she related as she placed their tankards on the table before them. They were handsome, these two, and she thought the resemblance between them startling. Though both men were tall and their dark coloring similar, she thought the older man more attractive. He seemed to have an innate animal magnetism in the firm slant of his lips and the steely depths of his gray eyes, and she found him irresistible.

“Thank you,” Noah replied as he tossed her a coin for her efforts, and she rewarded him with a wide smile that held more than a hint of an invitation.

“If you need anything else, just say the word. My name’s Polly.” She let her gaze meet Noah’s knowingly before hurrying away to her other duties, her heart beating wildly at the thought of what it would be like to share his bed and passion.

Had Noah been of a mind, he might have taken her up on her obvious offer, for she was a pretty enough girl, and clean-looking, too, but at the moment he was not so inclined. Instead he was thinking about his appointment the following afternoon with Edward Demorest, the British agent he was to deal with, and on the mission he’d assigned to Russell. He was growing concerned over the length of time the captain was taking and he wondered why he had heard nothing from him.

It was then, as he attempted to sit back and relax, that a man’s sharply worded protest rang out clearly above the din of conversation. The man’s tone was so outraged that both Noah and Matthew glanced concernedly in his direction.

“Damn it, Arthur! The world’s gone mad!” the man, fat and red-faced in his upset, bellowed at his companion, thumping the table in front of him as he spoke for even further emphasis. “What can they be thinking of?”

“I don’t know, Leland,” the man named Arthur commiserated. “It’s a bad situation.”

“The mobs seem to be controlling the town!” Leland complained worriedly. “Ever since word came about Parliament passing the Tea Act, things seem to have gone from bad to worse!” He paused and took a deep drink from his mug of rum before continuing. “The protesters are threatening me and all the other merchants who agreed to sell the tea! It doesn’t make sense! Our price here is lower than what Englishmen are paying at home! Drink the tea and enjoy it! Who cares if there’s a tax on it as long as the asking price is still cheap?”

“It’s this damned newspaper.” In disgust, Arthur tapped the copy of the Boston Gazette that lay on the table in front of him. “Agitators! The whole god-awful bunch!”

The shopkeeper nodded in agreement. “Everyone I talk to says they’re loyal to the king, but you can’t help but wonder when you hear of all the trouble. If everybody is loyal, then who are the rioters in the streets?” He shook his head in profound distress.

“Well, the men who write these articles in the Gazette certainly aren’t trying to help matters any.”

“That’s true,” Leland agreed solemnly. “There may be only a few of those hotheads, but they seem to know their business. They’re always trying to stir something up.”

“Their latest rallying cry is completely foolhardy. Have you heard? Independence for the colonies…” Arthur snorted in derision. “Independence, indeed.”

“It’s ridiculous. Why would they want independence? We’re a part of the mightiest empire in the world,” Leland bragged to no one in particular.

“His Majesty’s troops are the most efficient fighting corps in the world. We just defeated the French, for God’s sake! If we turned our troops loose on the idiots who are stirring up all the trouble, they’d rid Boston of them in no time.” Arthur drained his mug with gusto. “It’d be quiet again then, the way it should be.”

“It’ll never happen, but I wish it would. Business would be normal again…” Leland partook of his own rum and suddenly became rather philosophical. “I’m just hoping that it’ll all blow over, like it did all those years ago when everybody was in an uproar over the damned stamp tax.”

“Me, too,” Arthur remarked, having no taste for confrontation or violence.


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