The Tory Widow by Christine Blevins Page A

the brick. Pinning her wrist against the wall with his left hand, he slipped the right to wrap her rib cage. His actions so fierce and determined, Anne was stunned when he leaned in and kissed her.
    Like touching a spark to a stream of gunpowder, Jack’s kiss coursed a path through her body that struck at her very core. Rendered senseless, breathless and weak in the knees, Anne braced her free hand to Jack ’s shoulder, torn as to whether to push him away or draw him closer.
    His hand slipped up from her ribs to caress her breast. Inching forward he buried his face in her hair—Anne’s eyes snapped open—his every muscle pressed hard against her.
    â€œAnne?!”
    She turned to her name. David stood in the lane, dangling a lantern over his head. Sally stood beside him with the forsaken straw hat clutched to her breast.
    Anne shoved Jack away, and David moved in, shining a light on Jack. “Who’s this?”
    Jack stepped into the light, hand extended. “Jack Hampton—I was seeing your sister home . . .”
    â€œYe were doing a bit more than that!” Sally laughed.
    David refused Jack ’s hand and turned back to his sister. “Where’ve you been? Sally and I have been worried sick . . . searching for you . . . thinking the worst . . .”
    Anne stepped out into the lane, her joints as feeble as a rag doll’s. “I-I missed curfew, and had to wait a long while for a pass. Dr. Treat’s so busy—and I knew Sally would worry—I said as much, didn’t I, Jack?”
    Jack nodded. “That she did, Sal.”
    â€œâ€”so I accepted Mr. Hampton’s kind offer to escort me home—but he’d forgotten his pass . . .” Anne paused. “We had to hide from sentries—because he has no pass, you see?”
    David folded his arms across his chest. “All I see is my sister behaving no better than a common dockside whore . . .”
    â€œDavid!” Sally exclaimed.
    â€œThat is harsh, brother.” Jack laid a hand to David’s shoulder
    â€œWe’re not brothers.” David shrugged Jack off, handed the lantern to Sally and drew his sword from its scabbard. “You are under arrest.”
    Jack raised his hands. “C’mon, Captain. Naught but a little kiss and cuddle in the shadows . . . nothing to get up in arms about . . .”
    â€œDavid, please !” Anne said. “Put your sword away. There’s no need . . .”
    â€œNo!” David extended his arm, the point of the blade level with Jack’s throat. “Curfew was put in practice to keep the likes of him off the streets and away from decent women. He has no pass and he will be brought to stand before the provost marshall.”
    Jack glanced at Anne and slipped his hand inside his shirt. “I do have a pass.” He handed David a folded note.
    â€œYou see—” David waved the paper at Anne. “The rascal had a proper pass all along.”
    â€œI don’t understand . . .” Anne shook her head.
    â€œYou are so gullible, Annie. Father is right. We need to see you married and settled. Tomorrow, I want you to close your shop and pack your things. I’m sending you home to Peekskill.” David sheathed his sword and handed the pass back to Jack. “Hiding from sentries—putting your virtue in peril . . .”
    â€œVirtue!” Anne snapped to attention and faced her brother square on. “I would advise you not to waste any worry for my virtue, David, for our father sold that years ago.” She marched to where Jack had dropped her writing box, and snatched it up by its handle. “Tomorrow, I will open my shop for business as usual. I love you dearly, little brother, but you are neither my husband nor my father. Thank God, no man holds dominion over me.” Anne turned on her heel and headed to her door.
    â€œHoy, Annie!” Sally scurried to catch up. “Wait up!”
    â€œGood