The Charade

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The Charade Page 10

by Laura Lee Guhrke


  “In any case, I have nothing to tell,” the viscount muttered, addressing the empty room around him. “I’ve been in this godforsaken place for less than a month. I can’t very well set up an entire network of spies in a month.”

  A knock on the door of his office interrupted his thoughts, and the viscount hastily pushed the letter beneath the blotter on his desk, concealing it from any prying eyes.

  At his command, Captain Worth opened the door and entered the office, presenting himself to the viscount with a formal bow.

  “Well, Captain?” Lowden demanded. “Did our pretty little spy go marketing this morning?”

  “Aye, but I had no opportunity to speak with her. She had another woman with her.” Worth paused to remove his hat and take a pose of respectful attention before he continued his narrative. “She had the hood of her cloak pulled up to show me to stay away, but she was there, all right. She stayed about an hour. Then she returned to the Mermaid, and I came here.”

  “You watched her the entire time?”

  “Aye, but I kept a fair distance behind them so the other woman would not see me.”

  Lowden leaned back in his chair. “And?”

  A slight smile lifted one corner of the captain’s mouth. “And she managed to buy two turkeys, a sack of flour, a jug of molasses, and four bushels of dried cod for a price any merchant would consider criminal.”

  The look the viscount leveled at the captain was a frosty one. “Is that relevant?”

  Worth’s smile disappeared instantly. “No, my lord.”

  “Who was with her?”

  “A woman named Molly Munro, wife of the Mermaid’s owner. They were together the entire time.”

  Despite the fact that he could hardly expect any news from the girl so soon, Lowden was frustrated that he could give Lord North no information in his answering letter. “She gave you no indications of her progress?”

  “No, but she is working in the tavern. That much has been confirmed by one of my men.”

  Lowden nodded. At least there was some satisfaction in knowing the girl was well positioned to hear any news about the mysterious John Smith. “I am relieved to know that the scene you played out with her in the Mermaid was a success.”

  “Indeed, sir. A clever idea she had, to pretend she stole my watch.”

  “Yes, the girl is rather clever, isn’t she? Let us hope she can produce some results.” He stared into space for a moment, wondering what he was going to tell Lord North. He began composing possible replies in his mind. Perhaps he could tell North about Katie. No, he decided reluctantly. Only he and Worth would know about her. That would ensure security. Dispatches to London could be read by many prying eyes and never delivered.

  Lost in thought, he had forgotten all about Worth’s presence, but when the officer gave a discreet cough, Lowden came out of his silent reverie. “You have not forgotten that I am leaving for New York today?” he asked Worth.

  “I had not forgotten, sir.”

  “I will return in a fortnight, in time to attend the Governor’s Ball at Province House. While I am away, continue going to the marketplace on Saturdays. If Katie has any information for me, send a courier to New York. I will be staying with my wife’s cousins there.”

  The captain nodded to show his understanding. “Very good, sir. Is there anything else you wish me to do while you are away?”

  “No. That will be all.” He gave Worth a nod of dismissal. “You may go.”

  “Yes, my lord.” The officer gave him another formal bow, donned his hat, and clicked his heels sharply together before he turned in precise military fashion and departed from the room, closing the door behind him.

  Viscount Lowden turned to gaze out the window. His suite of offices at Fort Hill gave a splendid view of Boston Harbor, but Lowden scarcely noticed. He could find no beauty about anything in this city. He hated everything about it. He hated the primitive conditions and the lack of refinement. He hated the uncivil and hostile populace, with their seditious literature, their defiant disregard of the king, and their bullying mob tactics against the king’s loyal subjects and soldiers.

  Lowden sighed wearily. The sooner he was on a ship back to England, the better.

  Perhaps it was best not to think of home. He knew he was going to be marooned in this barbaric place for many months yet, and he needed to resign himself to that.

  To that end, Lowden turned his thoughts to his newest spy. She had only been in her position for a little more than a week, so he could not expect any news from her yet. But he could live with that. He had patience. A man could gain anything in life if he was patient.

  Lowden pulled out a sheet of parchment, picked up his quill, and began to compose his report to Lord North. It was the letter of a true politician, full of platitudes and subtle flattery, and he hoped the king’s chief minister would not notice the fact that it contained no news whatsoever.

  8

  When Lord Percy invited his intimate friends for an evening of playing cards, the port was plentiful, the play steep, and the news always interesting. Though forced to act the part of a man more interested in fashion than politics, Ethan usually came away from such evenings with valuable information, making it worth suffering through hours in lace cravat and powdered wig. Both itched intolerably, and he longed for his comfortable oilskins.

  This evening, however, proved to be well worth the suffering. Lord Percy was Governor Gage’s lieutenant. In addition, Sir William Holbrook, one of Gage’s closest aides, was also there, and both men were full of the latest news of their superior, news that confirmed all Ethan’s suspicions of Governor Gage’s plans. Arnold Travertine, another Tory who worked in Province House in a minor capacity, made up the fourth for whist.

  Only two bottles of port had been emptied by the four men at the card table before Percy’s tongue was loose enough to convey the governor’s newest strategy for dealing with the rebels.

  “Gage plans to confiscate every stockpile of Yankee weaponry in New England, one by one.” Percy emptied his glass in one swallow and refilled it from the bottle on the table. “He thinks that will prevent the rebels from waging a stand against British interests. With no weapons, there can be no rebellion.”

  Ethan took the deck of cards from Arnold Travertine, who sat on his left, and began to shuffle them as he listened. Since Gage had already sent out spies into the countryside, Ethan was not surprised by this news, but he needed to know the details of any future missions. “Just how do they plan to do this?” he asked, deliberately adopting a supercilious tone of voice. “Ask the Massachusetts farmers where they’ve hidden their guns?”

  Travertine chuckled, but Percy and Holbrook did not join in their humor. “Close enough,” Holbrook said. “Gage’s spies are mapping out the condition of the roads, and trying to find as many of the rebels’ powder and weapons stores as possible. As each location is discovered, he’ll send troops to confiscate the weaponry.”

  “It’s about time Gage took some form of action,” Travertine put in. “He’s been sitting on his hands for far too long.”

  “I think we are all in agreement there,” Percy replied. “I don’t know why he doesn’t just arrest the ringleaders and be done with it. His leniency only makes these rebels more defiant.”

  “Hear, hear,” Holbrook put in, lifting his glass in approval. “I’ve advised him many times to arrest the rabble. After all, the crown has suppressed insurrections in Ireland, and never has there been a more fractious race than they. Our own countrymen here would surely be easier to subdue than the Irish.”

  “So why doesn’t he do so?” Travertine asked.

  “Gage insists on proof of the sedition, my friend,” Holbrook told him. “Letter of the law and all that. Very tiresome, but there it is.”

  “If these rebels continue, he may not be so finicky about British justice,” Percy pointed out in reply. “Besides, if he needs proof, he will eventually get it.”

  “I hope so,” Ethan said. �
��But tell me of this new plan. I confess, I am intrigued.”

  “If he continues to send spies into the countryside, I hope Gage is choosing men with cool heads who can pass for locals,” Travertine said thoughtfully.

  “He is,” Percy assured. “Every officer in the garrison with any knowledge of the countryside has been interviewed, and Loyalist agents are being recruited from the local population.”

  Every nerve in Ethan’s body tensed. It was crucial that he find out details, but he dared not risk suspicion by asking any direct questions. He knew from experience that while a direct question might fail to elicit information, a skeptical attitude often brought forth an instant response. “Ridiculous, all this talk of spies and informants,” he drawled, sorting his cards. “We’re not at war, you know. You’ve been listening to too much gossip at Province House, my friends.”

  “It’s not gossip,” Percy insisted.

  Ethan did not reply. He merely eyed the other man with good-humored indulgence, as an adult might look at a child who insisted that fairy tales were true.

  As he had hoped, Percy bristled at that disbelieving look. Provoked, he leaned forward in a confidential matter and added, “This is not gossip, Harding. I am among those chosen for future missions. In addition, I have heard that several other men of our acquaintance are also participants in this plan.”

  Ethan wanted to laugh. Percy couldn’t pass for a Boston artisan or country farmer if his life depended on it. But there were other men in his Tory circle who could. Perhaps Katie could help him find out who those men would be.

  Ethan betrayed nothing of his thoughts in his expression. “Gad, Percy, you’ll be running about the countryside in late winter? How dreary.”

  “Powder isn’t the problem, anyway,” Travertine said with a sigh. “What Gage really needs to do is find a way to contain these outrageous Boston mobs. They become bolder every day and have gone from being a petty inconvenience to a real source of danger. A man loyal to our king can’t walk the street without taking his life in his hands. Something must be done.”

  “Absolutely,” Holbrook said, and lifted his glass. After taking a drink, he turned to Ethan. “Are you coming to my party week after next? It’s only supper and cards, but it should be quite entertaining.”

  Ethan hoped so, but not quite for the reasons to which Holbrook referred. Thomas Flucker, a friend of his who was also an aide to Gage and the father-in-law to Whig bookseller Henry Knox, had already informed him that Holbrook kept most of his secret dispatches and documents in a locked desk at his home. Ethan intended to have a look at them to see if he could discover any information about Viscount Lowden. In that task, he suspected Katie would be of great assistance to him.

  “That depends,” he answered. “May I bring a friend?”

  “Certainly. To what friend do you refer? A gentleman or a lady?”

  “Neither.” Ethan flashed him a grin of one man of the world to another. “A man’s mistress should never be a lady.”

  The other men at the table laughed with him. Holbrook slapped him on the shoulder. Conversation then shifted to talk of the Governor’s Ball scheduled to take place in two weeks’ time, and Ethan knew he would probably learn no more information tonight. He had a great deal more to do before the evening was over, including a meeting with Katie, and he needed to make his exit.

  At the end of the next round of play, he rose from the table. “Gentlemen, I must be on my way.”

  The other three looked at him in dismay as he began to gather his winnings.

  “But it’s early still,” Percy said, pulling out his watch. “Only quarter to eleven.”

  “Quite.” Ethan stood up and removed his black and gold dinner jacket from the back of his chair and slipped it on. He put the profits of the evening in his pocket and adjusted his lace cravat. “But I have another engagement.”

  “Another engagement?” Holbrook repeated. “Something to do with this new mistress, I’ll warrant?”

  Ethan let a secretive smile play at the corners of his mouth, but he said nothing.

  Travertine put in, “It’s going to be rather inconvenient for the rest of us if this mistress will always be taking you away in the midst of an enjoyable evening’s card play. Who is she? An actress, perhaps?”

  He thought of Katie’s dramatic abilities and found Travertine’s comment quite appropriate under the circumstances. Besides, making her an actress would provide a perfect background for her, and he silently thanked Travertine for the suggestion.

  He had his carriage brought around to the front of Percy’s lodgings and instructed his driver to take him to the White Swan, where he was to meet Katie.

  He wondered what she would think of the house he had leased for her. It had taken his secretary, Adam Lawrence, only the better part of the morning to find a property that met his requirements. Adam had warned him that the house needed repairs, but its location made it so ideal, Ethan had been willing to overlook a few minor deficiencies. It was directly across the alley from the Mermaid and a block away from the Salutation, another of his midnight haunts. Though Ethan had not had time to take a look at it himself, he had leased it furnished for six months. If it needed repairs, he would order them, to make the house suitable for Ethan Harding’s mistress.

  He had sent Katie a note this afternoon with instructions to take a look at the house, then meet him at the White Swan that night to give him a report of what repairs would be necessary.

  The tavern was crowded when he arrived, but Dorothy knew to expect him that night and had kept the small table in the corner free for him. He did not see Katie as he crossed the room and took his seat, so he settled back to wait.

  He did not have to wait long. Within moments of his arrival, he saw her enter the tavern. She glanced around as if looking for him, but when she caught sight of him, she made no move toward his table. Instead, she hesitated in the doorway, and Ethan beckoned to her with a wave of his hand.

  She waited a moment longer, then circled the room to his side. She sat down opposite him, and he immediately discovered the reason for her hesitation.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she muttered, pushing her tattered cloak off her shoulders. “This tavern is filled with soldiers. What were you thinking?”

  “Don’t worry. The lieutenant whose purse you lifted is not here. Nor is Captain Worth, whose watch you supposedly didn’t steal. Besides, if either one of them presses charges against you, I have enough money to buy your way out of the stocks.”

  “I can’t tell you how much that relieves my mind. As for your money, if you have so much, couldn’t you have found me a better house?”

  He laughed, and she shot him a look of exasperation. “What is so amusing?”

  “You sound more like a wife than a mistress.”

  “I am not your mistress, and I don’t have to talk like one when no one else is listening to our conversation. Couldn’t we have met somewhere other than a tavern full of soldiers?”

  “Not tonight. I have things to do here, and until you are settled in the house, I cannot be seen there. Ethan Harding would have no reason to park his carriage in front of an empty house.”

  “If it’s empty, I can understand why. The two front windows have broken panes, the larder is empty, and everything is covered with dust. Worst of all, the house has mice.”

  She shuddered, and Ethan lifted his brows in some surprise. “You’re not scared of a few mice, are you?”

  “I hate them,” she told him, her expression clearly conveying her distaste.

  “We’ll get you a cat.”

  Katie made a sound of disdain, showing just what she thought of that suggestion. “Unless you’re suggesting that we import a tiger from India, a cat is out of the question. An ordinary house cat wouldn’t have a chance. Those mice would eat him.”

  She shuddered again, and he realized she was genuinely afraid. “This is something I never would have expected,” he said. “You, a girl who has lived on the stre
ets of London, afraid of a few mice. Katie, you astonish me.”

  “Mice are too much like rats to suit me, and God knows, I’ve seen enough of those disgusting creatures to last a lifetime. You have no idea what it’s like to fight with them for your bread. Especially when they win. I want the mice out of the house. Until then, I don’t sleep one night in that place.”

  “I don’t expect you to do so. I wanted to know from you what repairs might be necessary, since I have had no time to look at the house myself. Now that I know what needs to be done, I will tell my secretary, and he can arrange to make the house comfortable for you. Until everything is in readiness, you don’t have to sleep there.”

  “I was hoping I could, though. To live in a real house again, sleep on a real bed, will be heavenly. You have no idea how I am looking forward to it.”

  To hear her talk so wistfully about two things he took for granted was rather disconcerting. It reminded him of how hard a life she lived. “By tomorrow night, you’ll be able to do both,” he promised her.

  “Can I have a bathtub, too? A real one, big enough that I can sit down in it?”

  She suddenly sounded like a child asking for a special treat. “Of course you may have a bathtub if you want one.”

  She propped one elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand with a dreamy sigh. “Oh, that will be lovely. I’ve always wanted a bathtub.” She cast a slow glance over him and straightened in her chair as if she had suddenly noticed something odd. “What are you all dressed up for? Are those fancy clothes supposed to be some sort of disguise?”

  He smoothed his gold brocade waistcoat. “In a way. I was with some very influential Tories, and this is how I usually dress when I have social obligations of that sort.”

  “Perhaps those clothes help disguise you from other people but not me. Even with that stupid powdered wig you have on, I could recognize you a mile away.”

 

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