The Wild One by Danelle Harmon

consort with the
king's officers — no matter how well-born they might be — if they
wished to maintain their standing in a community that had grown to
despise the Regulars' very presence."
    He merely sipped his brandy and watched her,
giving no hint of what was going on behind those enigmatic black
eyes.
    "I was well-respected by those who knew me,"
she continued, bravely. "I may not have your noble blood, nor
possess your limitless wealth, but my stepfather was one of
Boston's leading citizens and we lived well enough by pursuing hard
work and good causes. I have nothing to blush for."
    "Your stepfather was a Loyalist."
    "My stepfather was a spy for the
rebels."
    "That is not what Charles told us."
    "Appearances are deceiving. What is the use
of being a spy if everyone knows who you are?"
    "Indeed. And did you learn all you could
from my brother only to pass the information on to your
stepfather?"
    "I did not."
    "Rebel, Loyalist ... and where do your sympathies lay, Miss Paige?"
    She looked him straight in the eye. "With my
daughter."
    He arched a brow.
    "I don't want to be here," she said, firmly.
"I don't know a soul in England, my heart aches for home, and it is
obvious that my presence at Blackheath is most unwelcome — as I
feared it would be. I would like nothing more than to go back to
America and pick up the remains of my life, but I made a promise to
Charles, and I don't break promises."
    "And what promise was that?"
    "To seek you out in England if anything
should happen to him."
    "And just what did Charles think I could do
for you?"
    "He told me that you would take us in and
make our baby your ward. He said that you would give her your name.
I didn't want to come here, but things turned bad in Boston and I
had little choice. My daughter's welfare comes first."
    "Charles died a year ago. Correct me if I'm
wrong," he murmured, with faint sarcasm, "but doesn't the crossing
from America take but a month?"
    "Yes, but —"
    "Why, then, did it take you a
year?"
    "I had no wish to travel in my condition,
Your Grace. I was very ill."
    "And after the babe was born?"
    "I would not have subjected her to the
rigors of a sea voyage at such a tender age. Besides, my stepfather
needed me to help run the store and tavern, so I felt beholden to
stay."
    "Yes, do describe just what it was you did
there at this store and tavern, Miss Paige. I assume it was along
the order of serving ale and playfully fending off unwelcome
advances so you could save yourself for one of the king's
officers?"
    Blood rushed to her cheeks and her heart
pounded with outrage. "Indeed not, Your Grace," she said levelly,
refusing to be baited. "My stepfather valued me for my frugality
and head for figures. He would not have put a tray in my hands and
bid me to spend my time running from cellar to table. No, I kept
the books for both store and tavern. I opened in the mornings and
closed at night. I paid the help, purchased the merchandise for the
store, haggled with tradesmen for fair prices, settled disputes
between cook and chambermaid." She looked at him without shame. "I
am not afraid of hard work, Your Grace."
    "So I see." Something indiscernible
flickered in his eyes. "And what does your esteemed stepfather
think of your coming to England?"
    "He fell sick and died in January. I doubt
he thinks at all."
    "And what did he say about your little thing
with Charles?"
    "It was not a 'little thing,' Your Grace. We
loved each other deeply and were engaged to be married —"
    "Answer the question, please."
    "I beg your pardon, but must you be so
rude?"
    "Yes. Now answer the question."
    She made a fist, savagely driving her
fingernails into her palm in an effort to control her angry tongue.
"Charles and I had to keep our feelings for each other clandestine,
lest our safety be compromised. The army's presence was detested in
Boston."
    "Yes, I know. You Americans certainly made
that obvious."
    "I am not all Americans ," Juliet said
firmly. "And I would give the