Rebel Dreams Read Online Free Page A

Frances was busy scheming, and Evelyn was accustomed to the walk. She
preferred the anonymity of the crowd. The Uptons’ carriage was just one more
sore point in a town where the grandest transportation was a good horse.
    During bad weather, Evelyn rode a rented hack down to the bay.
The rest of the time she enjoyed traipsing across the Common and gossiping with
her neighbors, stopping at Faneuil Hall for fresh vegetables, or listening to
the arguments of the men after a town meeting. She felt quite at home in this
milieu of men, and because they were accustomed to dealing with her at the
warehouse, they accepted her into their conversations.
    With her father’s death, Evelyn had taken his place in more
positions than the warehouse, however. As she hurried past the State House, a
young man in dark broadcloth and rakishly cocked hat hailed her.
    “Miss Wellington! Will we be seeing you at the meeting
tonight?” He crossed the dusty cobblestones and politely removed his hat when
he reached her.
    “I will try to be there later, Pilgrim. I suspect I will be
commanded to my uncle’s house for dinner first.”
    The young man looked concerned. “Then perhaps we should hold
the meeting at the tavern. We have no wish to overburden your poor mother—”
    Evelyn waved away his protest. “You don’t know how much it
means to my mother to be allowed to continue hosting these meetings. Please, do
not consider moving it. I will be there as soon as I can, to take her place
should she grow tired. You know the Sons of Liberty are always welcome in our
home. My father would have wanted it that way.”
    The young man grinned. “He always preferred your mother’s fare
to the tavern’s, and I must agree with him. But I fear our committee will soon
overflow your accommodations. In times like these it might be necessary to
bring all the smaller groups together under one roof. You know we discussed it
last time.”
    “I know, and then you will find it necessary to keep women
out.” Evelyn spoke with more irritation than sadness at the departure of this
group whose politics fascinated her. “Stand forewarned, we will form a
committee of our own, and you will never know what we are up to.”
    Instead of lecturing as some of the older men might have, he
grinned and returned his hat to his head. “Just don your breeches and join us,
Miss Wellington. We’ll be happy to have you.”
    She laughed as he strode off. ’Twas a pity she could find no
romantic interest in Pilgrim Adams. He was a fine young man, even if his red
hair and freckles made him look more clown than merchant. Unfortunately, she
suffered Frances’ problem in reverse. She had worked and played with all these
young men since she had been in leading strings. They thought her one of them.
It seldom occurred to them to come courting a woman they had exchanged
argumentative blows with the day before.
    The few who had dared to approach her door with flowers in
hand were men who believed she would stay home if she married, leaving them
with the care of her father’s profitable business.
    Tightening her lips as she remembered those few disasters,
she hurried toward the bay. She intended to teach Jacob the business just as
their father had taught it to her. One day they would share equally in the
warehouse. She wished there were some way of owning their own ship, but that
would have to wait until Jacob came of age. No one would lend capital to a
female.
    ***
    The summons to her uncle’s dinner arrived in the middle of
the afternoon. Evelyn glared at the message with a mixture of relief and
annoyance. The day had turned intolerably hot. Perspiration rolled down her
back as she sat on her high stool, pulling ledgers in search of the names of
the companies ordering porcelain in the last year. Caught up in the detective
work, she had traced all orders of Staffordshire porcelain back to 1762, at
which point she found no more. She was in the process of locating old
correspondence for