Midnight (8 page)

She couldn’t think of a reason to deny the request so she agreed. “I suppose that would be all right.”

“Thank you.”

Faith was glad for the late hour. More than likely anyone who knew her wouldn’t be out and about and report the sighting of her and Nicholas to her father. Had she happened on to an acquaintance while on the way to Hancock, the bread delivery would have offered a sufficient explanation. However, no explanation would be sufficient enough to cover her present situation.

She was been ridden through the dark streets of Boston by a man so totally out of her sphere, she was shaking with nervous reaction because she couldn’t turn her mind or her senses away from how close she was being held against him. Every inch of her body could feel every inch of his and the pleasure it gave her wasn’t anything a good woman should admit, even as she imagined what it might be like if he were her intended. Were that the case, she could savor their closeness and the faint spicy scent of his cologne and melt against his hard but comforting chest and not be expected to maintain her distance as she was unsuccessfully attempting to do now. What would his kisses be like? she wondered. The breezy, starry night seemed perfect for a lovers’ tryst. Appalled by the direction her thoughts had taken, she dragged her mind back to saner realms, and again hoped they’d reach her horse soon.

They finally came upon the church, and as he brought the horse to a halt, she tried to straighten up but his arm kept her in place.

“I’ll ride beside you to make certain you arrive home safe.”

“But—”

He reached down and tenderly raised her chin. “No buts.”

And then he kissed her.

Faith felt the sweetness pour into her with so much force that she would have melted down the horse’s flanks had his arm not been holding her secure. The kiss was so wonderful and so unlike anything she’d ever experienced that all she could do was surrender to the tantalizing lure of his masterful lips against her untutored own. Her virgin mouth answered him hesitantly at first; enjoying the tastes and textures, letting herself be swept away by the swell of pleasure until her shyness took flight and was replaced by an age-old knowing of the woman awakening inside. His lips brushed against her cheek and she shimmered in response as they traveled up her jaw before settling possessively against her mouth once more. She couldn’t breathe or think. The sensations sparked by this interlude were creating a storm.

“Nick,” she rasped in a strangled voice. “We must stop,” but she didn’t want him to. He was gifting her with short, heated presses of his lips, punctuating them with lazy strokes of his flame-tipped tongue against her mouth’s parted corners and she had to stop this or die.

“Please,” she pleaded, and drew away. She was breathless. Trying to find herself in the haze around her, she looked up into his handsome face and saw the glitter of his eyes in the moonlight.

Nick was totally enthralled. Back at the tavern, Dominic had termed him doomed and Nick thought maybe his old friend was right. He wanted to hold her against him this way until the oceans went dry. He didn’t care about the feud between their fathers, their difference in class, or what she’d really been doing tonight, all he wanted to do was to ride away with her and never let her go, but because reality dictated otherwise, the fulfillment of his fantasies would have to be set aside, for now. He slowly traced her trembling mouth one last time, kissed her passionately, and set her back down on the ground. The slight wobble she showed as she walked over to her old mare made him smile. Apparently he wasn’t the only one enthralled, and the male in him was pleased at that. He’d tasted passion in the mysterious Miss Kingston, and he planned to taste much more.

O
n the ride out of Boston, Faith did her best to act as if his kisses hadn’t sent her over the moon but it was difficult. Each and every time she glanced at him riding beside her, the memories returned and her senses sent him a silent call that begged response. Her mind pointed out how disastrous being attracted to him could be. After all, he was set upon discovering Lady Midnight, and who knew what his plans for her might be. On the other hand, revealing herself might offer the closure he was after, but at what price to her? Again, she didn’t really know anything about him. As she mused earlier, even though he appeared to be supporting the rebels, there was the distinct possibility that he could be a British double agent, and she had no desire to be so befuddled by his kisses that she wound up with a noose around her neck. Lady Midnight was relieved that he hadn’t attempted to kiss her again, while Faith wished he would. Both of her personas were facing a double-edged sword with blades capable of inflicting a life-altering cut.

Nicholas glanced over at the plodding sorry excuse for a horse she was riding and was pleased she didn’t have a horse of Hades’ caliber, otherwise the journey would have ended sooner than he wanted. Although she’d yet to utter a word, he was enjoying her company just the same. The sweetness of her continued to resonate within, and as he noted earlier, he craved more. “Do you often make late night deliveries?”

“Only when necessary.”

“Does your father know you’re out?”

“No, because he wouldn’t approve of me trying to accumulate a bit of extra income.” And that was the truth, even if it was told within the context of a lie.

“It isn’t safe.”

She didn’t respond.

“The next time you need to do this, will you let me know so that I may accompany you?”

“I’m not in need of a keeper, Mr.— I mean, Nicholas.”

“I believe you are.”

“Not every woman needs a man about in order to conduct her business.”

“True, however I am not talking about every woman. It’s you I’m concerned with.”

“I appreciate that, but I can assure you I will not be asking for your escort when none is necessary.”

“You’re a very stubborn woman.”

“On that we can agree.”

Nick took a chance. “So, what else was in that sack?”

“Sack?”

“The one you had the bread in.”

She halted the horse and spun on him accusingly. “You followed me?”

“And watched you with the soldiers.”

“Your spying is becoming quite tiresome.”

“No more tiresome than chasing around after you in the dark.”

“You are no gentleman.”

“Agreed.”

She kicked her mount into motion again and he and Hades matched the pace.

After a few moments of silence, she stated, “If you must know, there was nothing in the sack but loaves of bread, and I’d appreciate you staying out of my business.”

“But you liked my kisses.”

“We are not talking about that.”

“Did you?”

“Are you truly that conceited? In truth, I’ve had better.”

“Faith Kingston, you are such a liar,” he countered, laughing.

“You don’t know anything about my life.”

“I know it hasn’t included much kissing, if any at all.”

“Now you are an authority on me?”

He smiled. “You’re being awfully defensive.”

“Your questioning is offensive.”

“My apology.” Nick wasn’t put off by her show of claws. Her temper just made him want to drag her back onto his lap and kiss her until she melted again. “Who lives in that house?”

“What house?”

“Where you delivered the bread.”

“Why are you being so nosey?”

He met her eyes. “I’m a nosey man.”

“On that we agree.”

“All right. I’ll cease my questions.”

“Thank the heavens.”

He grinned.

Faith drew in a mental sigh of relief and hoped he was being truthful. She was floored knowing he had followed her and seen her interacting with the soldiers. She also felt as if he were toying with her. Did he already know she was Lady Midnight? She couldn’t wait for her home to come into view so she could escape his questioning and her body’s desire for more of his kisses. Susie was old and slow, however, so it took some time.

Arriving at the inn filled her with great relief.

He asked, “I suppose you plan to enter via the window?”

“Yes.”

They were astride their mounts and hidden by the stand of trees that ran alongside the inn.

“Good night, Nicholas.”

Nick decided he liked having her address him by his full name. “Good night, Faith. No more running around in the dark.”

“I will see you Saturday.”

He smiled at her formal and distant tone. The way he’d been questioning her, he supposed he deserved no less. She would probably box his ears if he attempted to kiss her again, so he dampened the urge. “I assume you don’t need me to help stable the mare.”

“No, I don’t, but thank you for the offer.”

He nodded. “Saturday it is then, but let me know if your father proves difficult.”

“I will.”

That said, she turned the mare and headed off to the barn in the back of the inn. She could feel Nicholas’s amused gaze follow her departure, but she forced herself not to look back at him.

Chapter 8

I
n the days that followed, tensions increased in Boston and the surrounding countryside. Rumors were rife. The number of daily skirmishes and rock-throwing confrontations between the troops and the citizens escalated. In the taverns and pubs favored by rebel supporters, word was that arms were being amassed and stored under direction of the Committees of Correspondence, the official governing body of the colonies in revolt, and that if the British wanted a fight, they’d get one. The air was fraught with anticipation, and everywhere one went there were whispers.

The rising tension showed itself in the increased British patrols. They were on the road day and night. Faith watched them from the front porch on the inn whenever she was outside. As always, they were looking for weapons caches. According to her father and his Tory friends, the soldiers did find a few, but for every one discovered another three or four went undetected, hidden in the lofts of barns, the bell towers of churches, and underground in cellars and holes dug in the middle of mud-filled fields. From Boston to Concord, to Lexington, Cambridge and back, the Massachusetts Bay Colony prepared for war.

During Friday’s supper, Faith looked over at her father and asked, “Do you think there will be war?”

“Rebels are making it hard for the crown not to do something with all this civil disobedience and storing weapons. When Gage acts, there’ll be many dead colonists simply because men like Hancock, Jefferson, and that hothead Patrick Henry refuse to accept the policies of the King. I’m thinking of moving us to New York. The crown is strong there.”

It was the first time she’d heard mention of this and it took her as much by surprise as had his courting claim. “And what will become of the inn? I thought you planned to pass it on to your sons?”

“Will Case has expressed an interest if I decide to go.”

Case’s name made her snarl inwardly.

“All this upheaval has hurt business,” he said.

“It’s true business has been slow for months, but we are still above water.”

“Barely,” he noted. “Just barely.”

Faith had never lived anywhere else. She’d been born here; taken her first breath in her parents’ bedroom upstairs. It had never occurred to her that she might have to spend the rest of her days somewhere new. She wasn’t sure how she felt about such a possibility.

Her father looked up from his plate. “Enough about war and such for now. What do you know about this reception Widow Lawson is giving tomorrow?”

“It’s a gathering for Nicholas Grey. She asked if I would assist her with the food and he is going to pay me for my service.”

“How much?”

When she told him, his eyes grew large. “Where’s all this money of his come from?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Well, since he’s paying you, I’ll give you my approval. Just make sure you serve the food and nothing else. Man like him, who knows what else he may expect for such a grand sum. And make sure you bring the money right home and place it in the safe.”

“Yes, Father. Are you planning to attend?”

“No, but Will Case said he may.”

“Why? I didn’t know he was a friend of the Grey family.”

“He isn’t. He’s hoping to interest Grey in a business proposition.”

“I see.” Nicholas Grey didn’t impress her as being partial to blowhards. “The widow asked if I could arrive as early as possible, so I’ll leave here at sunrise.”

“Keep to the main road where the patrols are.”

“I will.”

He met her eyes for a long moment as if he had something else he wanted to say, so she asked, “Yes?”

“You need a husband, Faith.”

“Father, must we keep beating this horse? I’m way past the age of being desirable or submissive.”

“You have to secure your future.”

“My future is here, at this inn.”

“Not if I sell.”

“It can be, if you sell it to me.”

He sighed and shook his head. “No.”

“There are women business owners.”

“True, but you can’t match or top what Case has offered.”

She went still. “You’ve already discussed price with him?”

He nodded.

“I understand that you didn’t have to consult me, but you might have.”

“To what end? You have no money or collateral.”

“I have Mother’s funds.”

He looked away.

Holding on to her rising alarm she asked, “The funds are still in the bank in London, aren’t they?”

He shook his head and said quietly, “No. It’s what we’ve been living on for the past year.”

“But what about the money you’ve had me putting in the safe each month?”

“That’s where it comes from. I had the full amount transferred here to Boston and have been doling it out a bit at a time.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because there was no need.”

Faith wanted to scream at him about the unfairness of his actions. That was how she’d planned to secure her future once he passed on. “And how much is left? If it’s not being disrespectful to ask.”

“It is,” he replied pointedly. “However, so that you’ll know, only a small portion remains, but thanks to the general’s recent generosity, we’ve enough to get by until late spring.”

Faith was stunned. Late spring would be here soon. “And this is why you want to sell to Case?”

“Need to sell to Case. It will also help my marriage suit.”

Faith didn’t know what to say. She was both angry and hurt that he hadn’t revealed the true nature of their finances and that he didn’t seem to care that she’d be left penniless when he married this mysterious new wife. Had she known, she could have taken in wash or sold bread to help make ends meet. Now it appeared to be too late. “I wish you had told me.”

“And that’s why I want you to secure your future by getting married.”

“I’ll not marry Will Case.”

“And if your choice is the almshouse?”

Almshouses held the poor and indigent. “I’ll take in wash, sell fresh bread. I’ll do whatever need be to make my way, but I will not sell myself and especially not to him.”

“You’re a stubborn woman.”

“I come from stubborn stock.”

He placed his hand atop hers and squeezed it until she winced. “Either find yourself a husband, or I’ll have to include your hand in the contract I have with Will. He’s anxious to marry you. You should be grateful that he wants a woman of your age.” Getting to his feet, he left her sitting at the table and walked away.

She crossed her arms and sighed furiously.

Her fury turned to alarm as she saw a group of British soldiers enter. They were not accompanied by General Gage and she worried who they were and why they’d come. To her surprise one was Black. She knew there were many men of color serving the crown but she’d not seen any since the occupation began. She saw him glance over at her and then smoothly away as her father moved to greet them.

“Welcome to the Kingston Inn, gentlemen. I’m Stuart Kingston. What may I do for you?”

The Black man, who appeared to outrank the others, replied, “We hear your fare is honest and good.”

“Yes it is. This way, please.”

Faith was relieved that they were only after food.

Her father steered them to one of the three tables set up in the otherwise unoccupied room and Faith got to her feet and walked over. He introduced her. “This is my daughter, Faith.”

“Pleased to meet you,” she said.

The soldier bowed gallantly. “Honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Kingston. I’m Lieutenant Henri Giles.” And he took a moment to introduce his companions.

“There’s steak and ale on the fire in the kitchen. Would you care for some?”

They indicated they would, so she offered a quick curtsy and left the room.

She returned with their plates and added a loaf of bread. She was aware of Giles’s interested eyes, but she stayed focused on her task and then left them to their meal.

Her father entered the kitchen a short while later. “He seems like a gentleman.”

Faith checked the skillets on the fire. “Who?”

“Henri Giles.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose.”

“He’s unmarried.”

She slowly turned his way. “You’ve asked him?”

“I did.”

“Are you going to troll the Great Road next?”

He didn’t appear to appreciate her humor. “You need a husband.”

She shook her head with amusement and turned back to the fire. “I know nothing about him.”

“To remedy that, I’ve invited him to supper on Sunday.”

Startled, she faced him. From the serious set of his features she knew he was not going to let this go, so she sighed. “That’s fine.”

“You will be pleasant?”

“I will be pleasant.”

Seemingly satisfied, he left her alone.

Although Henri Giles impressed Faith as being a true gentleman, she doubted he’d be interested in the hand of a woman her age, but to satisfy her father she would go through the motions. For reasons unknown, thinking about Giles made the face of Nicholas Grey float across her mind’s eye. She hadn’t seen him since the night in Boston. He had a way of showing up out of thin air and playing havoc with all she considered herself to be and that included her senses. Her naturally curious nature made her want to know why that was, and what else his potent kisses might make her feel, but well-brought-up women weren’t supposed to contemplate such things. Besides, she had no plans to offer herself as a dalliance while he combed the countryside in search of his mythical Judas. Knowing she might have to deal with him as Lady Midnight in the near future was worrisome enough.

B
lythe’s husband had been an English earl when he arrived in the colonies in the late 1730s. He’d hired her, a free Black woman, to be his housekeeper and they immediately fell in love. When he passed away a decade later, Blythe inherited all he owned, including one of the largest and grandest homes in the colony. Usually the large formal front parlor was kept closed, but for special occasions like Nicholas’s gathering, it was opened and the table outfitted with her finest china, crystal, and cutlery.

Faith’s job was to oversee the kitchen and the two women Blythe had hired to help with the serving. They were Irish, a mother and daughter named Patricia and Laine O’Hara. They were neighbors who lived up the road, and their men were rumored to be strong rebel supporters. Faith had known them all her life and liked them because they were kind people and didn’t mind a hard day’s work.

By the time the guests began arriving late that afternoon, the food was ready and the buffet table set. While Blythe was ushering the guests into the parlor, Faith came out of the kitchen to make sure there was nothing else the buffet needed. When she looked up, Nicholas Grey was standing on the other side of the table. Memories of being in his arms flooded her like water rolling over a dam.

He said to her, “You never told me if you enjoyed the fish?”

“They were very good.” Her heart was pounding as it always seemed to do whenever he came near, but this time, the kisses they’d shared added themselves to the pot. She could see the curious looks on the faces of some of the women in the room who were watching him speak with her, but she did her best to ignore them.

“Thank you for the help with the food.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did your father approve of my price for your services?”

Her chin rose. “Yes, he did.”

“Good.”

He was the best-dressed man in the room and wore his clothing as if the current fashion had been designed with him in mind. The coat and breeches were of the highest quality and the shirt beneath was showy but tasteful. The neck cloth appeared to be made from silk, and his snow white hose as well. However, he’d eschewed the wigs favored by the men, nor had he powdered his hair.

Faith knew she should return to the kitchen but she couldn’t seem to move. He seemed to be having the same problem but didn’t appear bothered by it.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Blythe, who had with her shy, twenty-year-old Winnie Potts and her overbearing mother, Eva. Eva was one of the women in the community who couldn’t tolerate Faith because of her education and unorthodox ways. Faith didn’t like her any better and hoped Grey was prepared for Mrs. Potts’s overbearing manner.

Blythe said, “Nicholas. I want to introduce Mrs. Eva Potts and her daughter Winifred.”

He inclined his head.

Eva Potts smiled up at him as if he were something good to eat. Noticing Faith standing on the other side of the table, her eyes narrowed. “Don’t you have duties in the kitchen, Faith?”

Faith knew it was Eva’s way of trying to put her in her place. Eva’s husband owned a large tract of land and she never let anyone forget how wealthy and important she considered her family to be. Faith raised an angry eyebrow but before she could respond, Nicholas asked coolly, “Are you always so rude, Mrs. Potts?”