not real love in the men who’d desired her.
She had been truly beautiful, but Quinn wasn’t sure if the men in her life saw her as merely ornamental or if they had taken the time to get to know her. They certainly treated her like a prize to be won. Everyone from Ben Wilder, who was convinced Jocelyn had feelings for his brother, to Captain Denning, who seemed determined to break down her walls with his brand of brash charm, had sought to possess her, but how many of them had really cared for her? It seemed that even her brother had been happy to leave her to her own devices at a time when a woman alone was far from safe.
Quinn smiled brightly when she spotted Alex, then Mia. Mia was clutching her favorite giraffe toy, and there was a daub of green paint on her cheek. She saw Quinn and waved happily, then broke free of her teacher and ran to her mum. Alex followed suit, and the three of them took a moment to enjoy a group hug.
“Come on, guys. Let’s go home,” Quinn said, feeling lighter for the first time in weeks.
Chapter 53
August 1777
New York City
It was in the last week of August that Thomas invited Jocelyn to take luncheon at a quayside tavern just off Beckman’s Slip. As they drew near the tavern, Jocelyn had to take out her handkerchief and hold it over her mouth and nose, but it did little to block the smell of fish and rotting vegetables coming from a nearby market, and the acrid stench of sweat and piss that permeated the air. Overheated sailors, their faces glistening with perspiration, crowded the docks, while several army officers, who had to be cooking alive in their wool coats, were supervising the loading and unloading of the ships. They were barking out orders and hurling insults at the exhausted men, who paid them little heed as they maneuvered heavy crates and rolled barrels onto the waiting ships.
“What are we doing here?” Jocelyn demanded. “Surely there are plenty of other places we could have gone.”
“It wasn’t my choice,” Thomas said apologetically. “Come on. Nearly there.”
The Dock House was small and dim, the interior smelling of sun-warmed wood, spilled ale, and fish stew. At least half the tables were occupied by sailors who’d come in for a cool drink and a meal. Some talked loudly among themselves, while others sat in silence, presumably too hot and tired, having been laboring since dawn, to do more than lift a tankard to their parched lips. There wasn’t a single woman in the place, not even a serving wench. A grizzled, balding man behind the counter spotted them and tilted his head toward a door at the back. Thomas nodded and steered Jocelyn through the crowd at the bar.
Behind the door was a small private parlor. It faced the back of the building, so it was much quieter and cooler, the room decorated with velvet curtains to keep out the heat or cold, depending on the season, and several padded chairs grouped around a rectangular table. Jocelyn supposed the room was used by ship captains or other higher-ranking sailors when they wanted a quiet meal or a place to have a private conversation. At the moment, the parlor had only one occupant, and he sat at the head of the table, nursing a tankard of ale. Richard Kinney smiled at Jocelyn and invited her to sit down.
“You’re looking well, if a bit hot,” he observed.
“It’s hot as hell out there,” Jocelyn replied, knowing Richard wouldn’t be shocked by such a sentiment coming from a woman.
“It’s like hell’s very own kitchen,” he agreed, loosening his stock a little. His face was flushed, and the linen of the stock was limp with sweat.
“Don’t feel you have to suffer on my account,” Jocelyn said. “Take off your coat.”
Richard threw her a grateful look and removed the coat, breathing a sigh of relief. “I’ve ordered some food. I hope you like roast beef and potatoes.”
Jocelyn wasn’t in the mood for a heavy meal, not in this heat, but she nodded. Richard clearly had something other than food on his mind if he’d invited her there. She’d thought Thomas would join them, but he excused himself and went to have a pint at the bar, probably to keep an eye out for anyone who might show too much interest in whoever was dining in the private parlor and to give them some