The young man smiled as he inspected her. “How did you get past the guard outside?”
“I told him I was yer grandmother.”
He laughed. “You don’t look like an old woman to me.”
Her gaze traveled the length of his body. “And ye don’t look like no little boy.” She sidled up to the iron brazier and lifted her skirts with one hand to warm her calves. “Ye won’t make me leave, will ye? ’Tis awful cold out there.”
His head tilted as he examined her new, improved skirt length. “Don’t you have a place to go?”
She shook her head, wide-eyed and helpless. “No, me mistress threw me out. I have no money, no bed, only a wee bottle of rum to keep me warm.” She slipped the bottle from her cloak.
“I could help you with the rum.”
She lifted her skirts a little higher. “Could ye help me find a warm bed? I’ll make it worth yer while.”
He stuck a finger in his neckcloth to loosen it. “Aye.” He looked nervously at the front door. “We’ll have to be quick.”
“Good. That’s how I like it—hard and quick.”
His eyes lit up. “Me, too.”
What a pig. She gulped when he ripped off his coat and flung it to the floor. “Wait! I need a bed. I won’t do it on this cold stone floor.”
“Oh.” He stopped to consider. “There are cots in the prison cells.”
She shivered. “Ooh, sounds excitin’.”
“Aye.” With a grin, he reached for the key ring hanging from a peg on the wall. He inserted a key into the lock on the heavy wooden door that led to the prison cells.
Stepping behind him, Virginia raised the bottle of rum and focused on the back of his head.
He spun around suddenly.
She inspected the upside-down bottle in her hand. “Oh, look, me bottle’s half-empty.”
The look on his face indicated he suspected her mind was in a similar state. “I was going to say it is quite cold in there.”
She shrugged. “Ye know how to keep a lady warm, don’t ye?” She cursed inwardly at the missed opportunity. She had hoped to have the man unconscious before he opened the door, for fear that Quin might see her and call her by name.
The door creaked on its hinges, opening to the dark, cold corridor. The smell of dirty chamber pots assaulted her nose. She clung to the shadows. Perhaps Quin would be asleep.
The jailer picked up a lit candlestick, along with the key ring, and stepped into the corridor. “This way. We’ll use the second cell. The prisoner was released this morning, so the bench has a pallet of fresh straw.”
“Oh, me lucky day.” She heard the sound of steps shuffling through loose rushes. Quin was awake. She raised her voice so he would hear. “We ain’t been introduced. Me name’s Polly.”
The jailer bowed his head. “My pleasure.”
She grinned as she pushed back her hood. “Aye, it will be.”
“No!” Quin’s shout came from the darkness. “No!”
She jumped back, as if startled. “Here now, I thought we’d be alone. There ain’t no murderers in here, is there?”
The soldier lifted his candlestick to illuminate the corridor. “There’s only the one down there. Don’t worry about him. He’ll be dead soon enough.”
“Dammit, you’ll not do this!” Quin rattled the barred gate to his cell. “I forbid it.”
“Bossy, ain’t he?” She proceeded down the corridor. “Hush now, a girl’s got to earn a livin’.”
“Bloody hell, you won’t! Dammit.”
She glared at her raucous husband as he attempted to rip the gate from the hinges. This was the man Edward had described as uncommunicative and listless? “Some people have no manners.”
The soldier shrugged. “He’s usually very quiet.” He turned his back to her to insert a key in the gate to the second cell.
She lifted the bottle and focused on his head.
“No!” Quin yelled. “She’s dangerous!”
The soldier whipped around, finding her once more with an upside-down bottle grasped in her hand.
“Oh, look how the moonlight shines on the glass.” She peered at the soldier innocently while inwardly raging over another failed attempt.
“She’s dangerous,” Quin repeated the warning. “She has a disease.”
She gasped. “I do not.”
“She does.” Quin squeezed his face against the bars. “I slept with her, and I’ve been a lunatic ever since.”
“Aye, ye are.” She gritted her teeth. “Why are ye interfering in my business?” She gave the young soldier a pointed look. “Are we going to do this or not?”
The guard frowned. “Are you poxed?”
“No! The lunatic is jealous. Are ye ready now?”
“Aye, I have to unlock this gate.” He turned around.
She lifted the rum bottle.
“I’ll pay you for her,” Quin yelled.
The soldier swiveled around, noting with a frown the upside-down bottle in her hand.
“Oh, I forgot to take the cork out.” She lowered the bottle with a look of confusion.
Quin stuck his arm through the bars. “I have a silver ring. It is yours if I can have the girl first.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. Why was he messing up her plan? “I ain’t sleepin’ with no criminal. He’ll probably murder me when he’s done.”
Quin glared back. “Don’t tempt me, wench.”
“Here, now.” The jailer cleared his throat. “I cannot accept payment for the girl if she’s not willing. I am a gentleman.”
Virginia tightened her grip on the bottle’s neck, looking forward to bashing the gentleman.
“Come here.” Quin gestured through the bars. “I’ll show you my ring. ’Tis quite valuable.”
The soldier advanced slowly, the key ring in one hand, the candlestick in the other.
She swung hard and smashed him on the back of the head. Rum spewed forth, splattering on the floor. Shattered glass flew in all directions. She jumped back, raising her hands to protect her face. The soldier dropped the key ring and candlestick, stumbled to the side against a cell, banged his head on an iron bar, and toppled to the floor.
With a flash, the flame ignited a puddle of rum, engulfing the key ring with fire. She gasped and froze in her steps. Hungry flames sought out more liquor, streaming out in all directions. Loose rushes caught fire, and the flames swept into an empty prison cell.
She backed away. No, anything but fire. She covered her face to shield her mouth and nose from the rising smoke. A loud, clanging roar assailed her ears, humming through her shocked mind without registering. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t hear. The fire completely blocked the corridor with Quin on the other side, so far away, lost forever behind a wall of flames.
“No!” she cried out and covered her eyes. No. She could not give up. She had come to rescue him. The clamor in her ears divided into discernible sounds.
The church bells were ringing. Loud voices shouted in anger outside on the streets. And Quincy, he was yelling at her. He needed her.
“Ginny!”
She opened her eyes. Flames licked at the white breeches of the soldier. She seized him by the boots and dragged him away from the blaze. She rolled him on the stone floor to keep him from burning.
She ran at the fire and flung her cloak at it ’til the corridor was clear. The fire still raged inside the empty cell—the floor of rushes ablaze along with the cot. Breathing heavily, she stared at the fire. The walls of stone and brick should keep the fire from spreading. She lifted her gaze and groaned.
The roof was made of wood. The entire jail would burn.
“Ginny, we need the keys.”
She turned to her husband.
He smiled through the bars. “Find the keys, Ginny. Let’s get out of here
.”
She searched the floor to locate the keys. “Why did you try to stop me from hitting the guard?”
“He was holding a candlestick. I thought you would catch him on fire with that rum. I was hoping to get him close enough to knock him out.”
“Oh.” She found the keys and jerked her hand back as the heated iron burned her fingers. With her singed cape, she lifted the key ring and scurried to Quin’s cell. “Which key is it?”
He pressed against the bars, overlooking the lock. “I don’t know. Try them all.”
She inserted one, using the cape to insulate her fingers from the heated iron. She turned the key. The metal twisted in her hand.
He jiggled the gate. “It didn’t work.”
She yanked at the key. “Oh, no, it won’t come out.”
“Let me try.” He reached his hands through the bars to grasp the key. Heated from the fire, it bent in his hands. “Damn.”
“No! I was so close.” She covered her face. “Oh, God, don’t let this happen.” Her worst terror had returned. Once again she had failed to save a loved one.
Her husband remained locked away, soon to be lost in the flames.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“Ginny, listen.”
She lowered her hands. “I’m so sorry. Dear God, I have failed you.”
Quin stretched his arms through the bars and cradled her face with his grimy hands. “Listen to me. You have not failed. I’ve never seen you so strong and brave.”
Tears streamed down her face. “I did it for you. I love you so much.”
“I know.” His heart filled, erasing years of loneliness and despair.
“I wanted to save you.”
“Ginny, you have saved me. Now if you’ll help me, together, we can get me out of here. I have a plan.” He bent over to remove his silver shoe buckles.
“What are you going to do?”
“Blow my way out. Drag that redcoat back into the office, will you?” He grabbed one of the mittens Caroline had knitted and emptied the gunpowder from one buckle into the thumb. He squeezed it into the lock. After filling the other mitten with gunpowder from the second buckle, he wedged it also into a strategic place by the lock.
Virginia returned. “What do I do now?”
“Find some liquor, rum, whatever. And remind me later to thank Caroline for her presents.” He grabbed the knitted scarf and tied the fringed end by the lock. Then he carried his bench to the back of the room and turned it over on its side. This would be his barricade against the blast.
“I found this canteen. ’Tis full of rum.” Virginia slipped the wooden canteen through the bars.
“Good. Now I need a source of fire so I can light this.” As she dashed off once again, he opened the canteen and doused the mittens and scarf with rum. He spilled a trail of liquor leading to his barricade.
She returned with a lit candle.
“Good. Now return to the office and wait behind the door.” He watched her hurrying down the corridor, then darted to his barricade against the back wall. The sound of musket fire echoed outside his cell. What the hell was happening out there? The entire population of Boston seemed to be in the streets, screaming.
He dropped the lit candle into the trail of rum. Instantly the flames raced toward the scarf. He ducked behind the bench.
The explosion deafened his ears. Thick smoke filled his cell. He stayed low as he dashed to the gate.
It was wide open.
“Ginny!” He sprinted down the corridor.
She opened the heavy door.
He seized her in his arms, laughing and hugging her close. “We did it!”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “Oh, Quin, I thought I’d never hold you again.”
“My brave Ginny.” He kissed her and brushed the tears from her face, leaving smears on her cheeks with his dirty fingers. “Let’s go.”
He hefted the unconscious guard over his shoulder and hurried from the jail. Immediately he and Ginny were bombarded by a screaming, pushing mob. Ginny held fast to his arm as the crowd swept them west.
“We’re going the wrong way,” Virginia yelled over the noise. “We’re to meet my father on King Street.”
“I don’t think we can.” Quin pulled her into a deserted side alley and lowered the guard onto the ground. “What is happening here?”
“I don’t know. George and Josiah were planning to torment a sentry with some other lads, and your friends were supposed to distract the redcoats.”
“They did a hell of a job. I’ve never seen such a riot. At least we’ll not be noticed.”
“I see you, old boy.” Clarence stepped from the shadows, dragging Mary with him.
“Aunt Mary!” Virginia lunged forward.
Quin swept out an arm to hold Ginny back.
Clarence yanked Mary against him, pointing a knife at her neck. “Did you really think I’d leave town without your money?”
Quin tamped down on the growing fury inside him. “Let her go.”
Clarence motioned with his head toward Virginia. “Give me your wife, and I’ll let this one go.”
“No. Virginia’s still married to me, and in spite of your efforts, I’m very much alive and intend to remain so.”
Clarence’s face hardened. “You’ll be a hunted man, Quincy, forever on the run. ’Twill be a miserable existence for your wife. Give her to me, and she’ll live a life of luxury in London.”
“I’d clobber you on the head again the first chance I get,” Virginia warned.
Clarence sneered at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. You’ve lost all your appeal to me. I only want to deliver you to my father so he can control the business through you.”
“You’ll not have my wife nor my business,” Quin stated.
Clarence gritted his teeth and tightened his grip around Mary. “I’ll kill this one! ’Twill be your fault.”
Virginia stepped forward. “I’ll come with you.”
“No!” Quin yanked her back. “Fine, Clarence. You win. Take my bloody ships and leave these women alone.”
Clarence squinted at him. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, the women are worth more than a few ships.”
“Damn, you’re a fool.” Clarence smiled slightly. “I’ll need it in writing.”
Quin nodded. “Agreed.”
Clarence loosened his grip on Mary, who pulled away and ran to Virginia.
Quin advanced toward his brother, balling his fists.
Clarence jumped back. “I expect you to honor the agreement.”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m a bastard.”
“Damn you!” Clarence pointed the knife at him, his face reddening with rage. “How many times must I turn you in? Why couldn’t you just die?”
“I have as much right to live as you.”
“No! The title will be mine!” Clarence threw the knife.
Quin leapt to the side as a flash of metal flew past him. Anger exploded inside him, muffling the sound of Ginny’s scream and the clatter of the knife landing on cobblestones.
He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Clarence hit hard and sank toward the ground.
Quin jerked him up and pinned him to the wall. “Why are you so determined to see me dead?”
Clarence grimaced with pain. “You fool. You still haven’t figured it out, have you?”
“Figured out what? I know you’re a greedy little bastard who wants my money. But why the obsession with killing me? I’m not a threat to you.”
Clarence spoke through clenched teeth. “Father will disown me if I don’t deliver the business to him. I’ll lose the title, everything I ever wanted.”
“How can he disown you? You’re legitimate.”
“No, dammit. You are. Father kept his marriage to your mother a
secret so he could marry my mother and get all of her money. If I don’t deliver, Father will claim you as his heir.”
Quin stared at his brother, stunned. All these years he’d believed himself a bastard. With a shout of rage, he gripped both hands around Clarence’s neck.
“No!” Virginia yelled. “Quin, you cannot kill your own brother.”
Quin paused with his hands around Clarence’s neck. The look of terror on his brother’s face sickened him. He loosened his grip. “Go. The title is yours. I want nothing from you or your father. Edward is my father. This is my country.”
“Hold still!” A voice shouted behind him.
Quin released his brother and turned.
Captain Breakwell marched into the alley, his brace of silver-handled pistols cocked and aimed at Clarence and Quin.
Clarence greeted the officer with a nervous laugh. “Thank God you’ve come, Captain. I caught the traitor, trying to escape.”
Quin slowly eased back.
Captain Breakwell motioned with a pistol. “Stay next to your brother.”
“William, please.” Virginia stepped forward. “Don’t do this.”
“They’re both criminals—a traitor and a thief.” The captain studied his prisoners.
Clarence cleared his throat. “But being a traitor is so much more serious. If you turn Quincy in, you’ll be a hero. They’ll probably promote you.”
William narrowed his eyes. “Possibly.”
“Don’t listen to him,” Virginia pleaded. “Please, it would kill me to lose my husband.”
William nodded. “I understand how you feel. I would hate to lose Priscilla.”
Clarence snorted. “You cannot possibly control the two of us. You’ll have to let one of us go.”
“I believe you’re right.” William pursed his lips. “So shall I be a hero for King George and turn in Quincy, or turn you in, Clarence, and be a hero for Priscilla? An interesting choice.”
Clarence shrugged. “I merely helped myself to a few baubles, but my brother is guilty of treason. You should let the worthiest man go free.”
“I agree.” William bowed his head to Quincy. “I suggest you get as far from Boston as possible. And take good care of Virginia.”