“Most people cannot say the same, thank God.”
“It is fortunate for you that most people are not as observant as I.”
“Nor as modest.”
She grinned at that. “You never fooled me for an instant. I’ve yet to see a man who works on the docks put on Sunday manners for a kitchen maid. He wouldn’t pull out a chair for her and wait for her to sit down before he takes his own seat. That’s how I first came to realize you were not the long-shoreman you pretended to be.”
“Since you are so adept at dispensing advice, I want you to apply a bit of it to yourself. Tomorrow, you will begin pretending to be something you’re not—my mistress. Remember, you aren’t a street waif any longer.”
She looked down at the clothes she wore. “Really? I never would have guessed.”
“Hmm. You have a point. Perhaps that’s why I made you an appointment for tomorrow at Elizabeth Waring’s to be fitted for a new wardrobe. We will meet there at ten o’clock in the morning. Elizabeth is Boston’s finest dressmaker.”
She looked at him across the table and bit her lip. An expression of uncertainty crossed her face. “You’re buying me an entire wardrobe?”
“Certainly. For my mistress, only the best.”
An unexpected smile lit her face, a smile of such childlike beauty, he was startled. God, her smile could light up even the darkest shadows of a room. He realized the reason for that sudden smile. “You’ve never had new clothes before, have you?”
Still smiling, she tossed her head with a show of bravado. “Of course I have,” she answered. “I used to wear beautiful clothes all the time, even ball gowns of silk and lace, diamonds. I attended all the assemblies at St. James’s Court, of course.”
A vision came into his mind of her plundering the pockets of unsuspecting peers in an opulent ballroom, and he couldn’t help grinning. “I see.”
“My company was in demand among all the fashionables of London.”
“Katie, if you’re going to lie to a man, at least tell him a lie he can believe.”
“It’s true,” she assured him. “I had half a dozen men madly in love with me.”
His grin faded. “Now that,” he said slowly, “I can believe.”
Ethan heard her sharp intake of breath. Her smile vanished, and he sensed the sudden tension in her. He thought of her sweet response to his kiss in the kitchen of the Mermaid, and just the memory of it aroused him. He wanted to kiss her again.
It had been such a damned long time since he had made love to a woman. Too long. But he could afford to trust no one, and he knew there was nothing on earth more likely to loosen a man’s tongue and steal his common sense than a woman. He drew a deep breath and leaned back. “As for the house, I will have workmen in to make repairs first thing tomorrow. I promise you, they’ll get rid of every last mouse. I also had Adam hire servants for you.”
Her eyes widened. “I’m going to have servants?”
“Of course.”
“A house, a real bed and a bathtub, as well as clothes and servants,” she murmured. “All for a pretend mistress.” She suddenly looked troubled. “You are being very generous.”
He heard the wariness enter her voice, and it made her seem oddly vulnerable. On impulse, he reached out and lifted her chin with one finger to look into her eyes. “Don’t worry. You will be able to carry out this charade with a clear conscience, because despite what people will think, your virtue will not be compromised.” His gaze roamed over her face, appreciating the stunning beauty of it, and he added, “From my point of view, that is most unfortunate.”
Abruptly, he let his hand fall away. “Besides, before it’s all over, you’ll have earned your rewards.”
“I don’t doubt it.” She leaned forward in her chair. “Perhaps, then, it’s time you told me exactly how.”
Ethan met her expectant gaze with a steady one of his own. “All in good time.”
“Really, Ethan, you are a human oyster,” she told him, aggravated by his unwillingness to give her any information. “How am I to spy for you if I don’t know what I’m looking for?”
Before Ethan could reply, they were interrupted. Katie looked up to find the barmaid standing there with two brimming tankards of ale. She set them on the table, and Katie took a few seconds to study her. She was a voluptuous girl with long, loose dark hair, who gave Katie a hard, unfriendly stare in return for her scrutiny before she turned to the man seated opposite. Her gaze softened immediately. “Ethan,” she greeted him. “I’m sorry it took me so long to get ale for you, but it’s quite crowded tonight. It’s good to see you.”
The flush in the girl’s cheeks could be from the heat of the blazing fire in the hearth nearby, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her voice. Besotted, Katie decided. Poor girl.
He replied to her greeting but did not introduce her to Katie. “I believe you have news for me?” When she nodded, he went on, “We’ll talk later, then.”
It was a clear dismissal. The barmaid hesitated a moment, then bit her lip and turned away, but not before casting another suspicious glance at Katie.
“Who was that girl?” she asked after the barmaid had departed. “She glares at me as if I’m after stealing her money bag.”
“Dorothy is a very perceptive woman. She has you pegged quite well.” He smiled as he spoke, but he was not looking at her. His restless gaze scanned the room beyond her shoulder. In the dim light of the candle that burned between them, Katie studied him from beneath her lashes as she sipped her ale. It was a harmless pursuit to observe him at this moment, since he was not looking at her. He was always tense and alert, always cognizant of possible danger. Yet he did not realize that his greatest danger was right in front of him. His greatest danger was her.
Suddenly, it hurt to look at him. Katie turned her face away and took several gulps of ale.
“Careful.” His amused voice had her returning her gaze to him. He was looking at her now, his elbow on the table, his chin in the palm of his hand. “The ale is strong, and the last thing I need is a drunken spy.”
A teasing gleam came into his eyes, and Katie caught her breath, feeling suddenly giddy. She knew it was not the ale that rushed to her head. It was him. He made her feel as if she were walking the edge of a cliff, exhilarated and dizzy, yet never forgetting that one missed step could mean her life. “I’m not going to get drunk.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Katie took another sip of ale. “So, answer my question. What are we doing here, anyway?”
“I had you meet me here for several reasons. There are two people I wanted to introduce to you. Dorothy is one.”
“And the other?”
He gestured toward the bar and the burly, barrel-chested man who stood behind it tapping ale. “That is Joshua Macalvey,” Ethan told her. “He owns this tavern. He and I are good friends.”
“You are friends with a man who owns a Tory tavern?”
“He can’t help it if his establishment is conveniently close to Fort Hill and the Regulars have taken a liking to it. Actually, it is very convenient for us. It’s amazing the news and gossip officers impart when they’ve tipped a few pints.”
“I take it Joshua’s politics differ from those of his patrons?”
Ethan smiled at her. “You might say that.”
With that smile, Katie noticed for the first time the laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, and she realized that he must be a man who smiled often. With her, he was usually so serious, sometimes even menacing.
“Joshua and I have known each other for many years,” he went on, bringing her attention back to their conversation.
“Boyhood schoolmates?” she guessed.
“No,” Ethan answered. “War. We fought together against France. We were in the colonial militia.”
“You fought for England?”
“Believe it or not, yes. Many men, including myself, felt differently then. England was our country. Long live our king, and all tha
t.”
He lowered his gaze to the tankard of ale in his hands and fell silent. He sat rolling the tankard idly back and forth between his palms, frowning at it. It was almost as if he had forgotten she was there, but after a long pause, he spoke again. “That was over seventeen years ago. Joshua and I were sixteen then. Too young to think for ourselves. We were told that England needed us, and we simply did what we were expected to do.”
“And now?”
He lifted his head to meet her gaze, and she did not miss the momentary flash of anger that crossed his face. “Now we are not boys but men. We pay attention not only to what we are told but to what we see with our own eyes and hear with our own ears.”
Before she could ask what had brought about his change of mind and heart, a voice interrupted them. “I see that you have ale, my good man, but is there anything else you require?”
Katie turned her head to find Joshua Macalvey beside their table. Her gaze swept downward as she cast a quick glance over him, and she saw that the lower half of his right leg was gone, replaced by a wooden peg. She had not noticed it when she first came in, for he had been standing behind the bar.
The tavern owner leaned down to say something to Ethan, and the two men talked for several minutes. She tried to hear what they were saying, but they kept their voices low, and with all the noise surrounding them in the crowded tavern, there was no way Katie could discern even one word of their conversation.
Finally, Joshua straightened away from the table, and Ethan rose to his feet. “I’ll be back shortly,” he told her, and turned away. Joshua took the vacated chair opposite her, while Ethan crossed the room to the bar.
She watched him greet a pair of redcoat soldiers as if he knew them well. He lounged with casual elegance against the bar, and all the tenseness she had seen before was hidden behind his easy, careless pose. She wished she could hear what they were saying, and she wondered how she was ever going to ferret out the proof she needed for Lowden if she could never listen in on Ethan’s conversations with others.
“Ethan tells me you are going to be one of our friends,” Joshua commented, and she returned her attention to him. “I can scarce believe it.”
Her heart skipped a beat, and Katie drew a deep, steadying breath. “What makes you say that?”
“You look more like a waif whose main concern would be her next meal.” Joshua tilted his head to one side, studying her. “I wonder what sword Ethan is holding over your pretty head.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Perhaps you don’t. I’ll wager he could bind you to him with nothing more than a few sweet words and a kiss. Ethan has a way with women when he chooses.”
“Does he? I hadn’t noticed.” She turned her head once again toward the subject of their conversation. Ethan and the pair of soldiers had moved to take seats at a nearby table. Dorothy stood beside his chair, and he was deep in conversation with her. Her generous breasts spilled over the edge of the tightly laced corset she wore over her chemise, and when she leaned down to whisper something in his ear, Katie was certain those breasts were going to fall out of her corset and right into his face.
“If you hadn’t noticed,” Joshua’s teasing voice interrupted her thoughts, “why are you glaring at him?”
“I’m not,” she lied, and forced the scowl from her face. She turned her attention away from Ethan and his barmaid and back to the man opposite her. “I was just worried, that’s all.”
“Worried?”
“If she gets any closer to him, he’ll suffocate,” she said sweetly.
Joshua chuckled. “There are worse ways for a man to die.”
She cast another glance at the subjects of their conversation and found the girl with her hand on Ethan’s shoulder. She was whispering something in his ear. Katie forced herself to look away. “They seem to be more than friends.”
“That sounds like the tone of a jealous woman.”
“Nonsense.” Never in her life had Katie felt jealousy toward another woman over some man, and she resented the notion that she felt it now, especially about a man who cared naught for her, a man she knew was capable of slitting her throat should he find out the truth about her. “You are mistaken, sir. The loose women he trifles with in taverns are no concern of mine.”
“Loose women?” Joshua threw back his head and laughed. Katie stared at him, unable to understand what she had said that was so amusing. After a moment, he stifled his laughter and took a long draught of ale. “Dorothy,” he said, striving for a serious expression, “is my sister.”
Katie stared at him in dismay, her face heating with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that.”
Joshua dismissed her embarrassment and her apologies with a wave of his hand. “My sister dresses as she does and acts as she does for very good reasons, not because she is a loose woman.”
“Because that sort of demeanor elicits more information from the soldiers who drink here than she would get otherwise,” Katie concluded, guessing what Joshua had not explained.
“You are a shrewd young woman and seem to know your way about. I can see why Ethan has chosen you to assist him. But I wonder what your reasons might be for agreeing to do so, since you insist he holds nothing over your head.”
Katie was silent a moment, thinking how best to proceed. Here was a chance to find out more information about Ethan that might prove useful, and she did not want such an opportunity to pass. But if she wanted to get information, she would have to establish some credibility with Ethan’s friends. “Death does not frighten me,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “and my alternatives to being Ethan’s friend are worse than death.”
“You intrigue me. I cannot help but wonder what those alternatives might be.”
“They are rather unpleasant, to say the least. I would rather not talk about them.” She turned her face away and took that opportunity to divert the conversation. “Ethan has told me that the two of you fought together against France.”
“We did. And I thank God every day for that. If Ethan had not been with me, I would not be alive.”
“He saved your life?”
“He did. We were in the same regiment, and we had become friends. We were fighting near Albany and getting badly beaten. Our sergeant gave the call to retreat, but just then a spray of grapeshot hit us. I was wounded, and so was a friend of mine. The French were pounding us with cannon and grapeshot, and we knew we would be killed if we did not get back behind the lines, but neither of us could retreat with our regiment.”
“What happened?”
“Ethan had already fallen back, but he saw us in the distance. I’ll never forget the sight of him, crossing that field toward us, dodging the cannon fire. He carried me out of there.”
Joshua paused in his story, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “Once he got me to safety, he went back for David. He took a musket ball in the shoulder, but he saved both of us.”
Katie remembered the comment Molly had made the morning before as they had walked to the marketplace. Perhaps here was the story behind it. “Was your friend’s name Munro?”
He looked at her in surprise. “Yes, David Munro. You’ve heard the story already?”
“No, but I have met David and his wife. Molly told me both of them would follow Ethan into hell and back. Now I know why.”
“Aye. We would willingly give our lives for him.”
She thought of the part she might be forced to play in making that happen, and she felt again that inconvenient prick of her conscience. “That could happen.”
He smiled at her. “I had received a letter from my wife the day before I was wounded. She’d been expecting a baby, and she told me she’d just had twins. If not for Ethan, I never would have seen my daughters, the two loveliest girls in the world. I will never be able to repay Ethan the debt I owe him.”
“What happened after the war?” she asked. “What changed the two of you from supporters of the king to his en
emies?”
“Many things can change a man,” he answered in a noncommittal voice. “My reasons and Ethan’s may be different, but our goal is the same.”
Before she could ask another question, a shadow crossed their table, and both of them looked up to find the subject of their conversation standing there. Joshua rose to his feet. “I look forward to seeing more of you, Katie.” He turned to Ethan, his face grave. “Take good care, my friend.”
Katie watched the tavern owner for a moment as he walked away amid the many bright redcoats that filled the room. “How can you frequent a tavern filled with soldiers?” she asked as Ethan set down his tankard of ale and resumed his seat. “Isn’t it dangerous? Aren’t you afraid you’ll be recognized?”
“The only way anyone here would recognize me would be as Ethan Harding, who is known to be a Tory. No one here is likely to have seen me in the Mermaid or any other Whig tavern. British Regulars know they are not welcome in those places.”
“What about informants and spies?”
He did not seem particularly worried. “You’ll find that we usually discover Tory informants very quickly. Of course, they have the same ability to discover ours. Very little stays a secret in Boston.”
Katie hoped that maxim would not apply to her.
“Besides,” he continued, “a spy’s word would not be enough to have any of us arrested. I hate to give Gage credit for anything, but he is a scrupulously fair man. He insists on having just cause to arrest someone, and having a pint of ale in a particular tavern and complaining about English policies is not against the law. Proof of sedition is hard to obtain.”
Katie was already beginning to appreciate that point. “Still, it is fortunate you can count on Joshua’s loyalty.”
“Aye, but his true loyalty is to freedom.”
“From what he told me, his true loyalty is to you.”
A slight frown creased his brow, and she could tell that he was displeased that she knew. “Joshua talks too much.”
“Why? Our conversation was harmless enough. He told me of how you saved his life, and how he would give his in return.”
The Charade Page 11