The Charade

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The Charade Page 12

by Laura Lee Guhrke


  Ethan made a sound of impatience. “He should not have told you. People know I was in the colonial militia during the war, of course. It would be impossible to keep that a secret. But if people knew what happened with David and Joshua, they would find my actions rather at odds with my image as a fatuous fool.”

  “So no one knows about it?”

  “You do. Somehow that worries me.”

  “You do me little credit. I can keep your secret.”

  Ethan tilted his head to one side, studying her, his gray eyes thoughtful. As always, his discerning stare made her uncomfortable, and she started to look away, but he reached out to cup her chin in his hand and hold her still, smiling at her as he caressed the curve of her jaw with his thumb.

  When he smiled like that, it was as if the sun had come out, yet she could not say why. He was handsome, true, but that was not the reason. Perhaps it was the sudden warmth that smile brought with it, as if they had shared a moment of intimacy, a rare thing from a man with so many secrets.

  “I can’t really blame Joshua for his lack of discretion,” he murmured. “Those angel-blue eyes of yours could pull secrets out of a statue. ’Tis no wonder Joshua paid no heed to what he said. Almost any man alive could make that mistake.”

  She caught her breath. “Even you?”

  “No,” he answered, and let his hand fall away. “I said almost any man. I make myself the exception.”

  “Do you indeed?”

  “I am never indiscreet.” Ethan lifted his tankard, and his smile changed to a careless, impersonal one. The intimacy they had shared was gone, and she was once again sitting with a stranger. “But then,” he continued, “I have also had the advantage of watching you use your charms on that poor lieutenant whom you deprived of a purse, and I have profited by his example.”

  She scowled at the laughter in his voice. Even above the noise in the tavern, she could hear it. “That poor lieutenant was a fool. He let a smile and a pretty face manipulate him so easily.”

  “Don’t be so hard on him. He was young, and too inexperienced to have learned that beauty does not necessarily go hand in hand with goodness and virtue.”

  That stung. “Isn’t your defense of him misplaced? As a soldier of the Regulars, is he not your enemy?”

  “Not really. The Regulars are simply a tool.”

  “So the king is the true enemy?”

  “I did not say that.”

  “You don’t have to say it. It is obviously what you believe.” Here was a chance to get back at him for his stinging comments and to prove him wrong about his ability to resist what he called her considerable charms. The opportunity was too good to miss, and Katie took it. She widened her eyes with deliberate innocence. “And how you can believe such things is incomprehensible to me. The king is the head of state, and he is the head of the church, akin to God. Not only is it sedition to think otherwise, it is blasphemous.”

  “Rot! The king is mad; that is common knowledge. And his ministers care only for what comes off the tax rolls. Though bishops might feel differently, I doubt God would consider greed a church sanction.” His voice was low, but anger vibrated within every word, and Katie felt a sudden rush of triumph. At last, she had provoked him beyond prudence. Here, in a Tory inn, he had forgotten about caution, and, surrounded by King George’s soldiers, he was speaking to her of treason and rebellion. Say what he would about discretion, even Ethan Harding could abandon it, given the right inducement.

  “The king and his ministers care naught for this land and naught for its people,” he went on. “England is using us, as a man might use a prostitute, with no thought to woo her before he takes what he wants. Why should we suffer such treatment? For an insane king?”

  “There are some in this very room who would call what you are saying treason,” she said blandly, and watched the anger vanish from his face as if it had never been there. A flicker of wry acknowledgment came into his eyes.

  “Aye, so they would,” he murmured in agreement. “’Tis fortunate that the noise in here prevents anyone from overhearing my seditious talk. It might ruin my image as a loyal Tory. It was not wise of me to speak so.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a rueful half smile. “It would seem even I can forget discretion when you choose to turn your wiles on me.”

  She laughed, thoroughly enjoying her momentary victory. “Wiles? I used no wiles on you, Ethan. We were simply talking.”

  “No. I was talking, you were listening, and that is the danger. The knife is silent, too, until it’s in a man’s back.”

  “I have no knife.” She leaned closer to him across the table. “I am your colleague, Ethan. Don’t you trust me?”

  He mirrored her, leaning forward, so close that his lips almost touched hers. “My darling girl,” he murmured, his voice so low and seductive that Katie’s heart began pounding wildly, “I don’t trust you at all.”

  She jerked back, all her brash confidence gone. He was so much better at this game than she, and no matter what she did, he always managed to stay one step ahead of her. Katie opened her mouth to give him a scathing reply, but before she could do so, he spoke again, all mockery gone from his voice. “Finally,” he murmured, almost as if he were talking to himself. “I thought she’d never finish with him.”

  He caught Katie’s inquiring glance, but he did not explain. Instead, he stood up and circled the table to stand beside her chair. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Before she could realize his intent, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her, in full view of all the men in the tavern.

  Katie heard several ribald chuckles from the surrounding tables, and she pushed against his chest, but he did not release her. Caught within the tight circle of his arms, she could not move as his mouth opened over hers. His tongue slid past her parted lips, and he tasted deeply of her. An aching warmth spread through her entire body. She could feel the hard muscles of his chest beneath her palms. Everything else in the world faded away until there was nothing but him.

  As abruptly as he had kissed her, he stopped. He did not let her go, but he pulled back to look into her eyes. Shaken, Katie stared up at him, but she could read nothing in that hard, enigmatic face. He might have been made out of stone.

  No, not quite stone, she suddenly realized. His face might give nothing away, but she could feel his heart thudding beneath her fingertips as if he’d been running. “Ethan,” she whispered, and felt herself melting in his arms.

  More male laughter from the tables around them brought her to her senses and reminded her that they were standing in a room full of soldiers. She jerked back hard, but his arms remained around her, and she could not break free.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, her cheeks burning, acutely aware of all the staring soldiers.

  “Now it’s clear that you belong to me,” he murmured. “I can leave you alone in a room full of soldiers while I meet with Dorothy, and none of them will bother you.”

  He didn’t seem to care that it made her look like a doxy. She did not glance around, but she could well imagine the speculative gazes and knowing smirks of the soldiers. She knew what they must be thinking, and she did not like it.

  Ethan seemed oblivious to her discomfiture. He turned away, and her resentful gaze followed him as he moved through the crowded taproom. He may have given all these men the impression that she belonged to him, but she did not belong to him. She was no man’s property. At least, not for long.

  It wasn’t even as if he thought of her as a colleague. His light, mocking words came back to her, and Katie set her jaw stubbornly. You may not trust me yet, Ethan, she thought, watching him disappear through the door out of the taproom. She pressed her fingers to her lips, which still tingled from his kiss. But you will. Before this is over, you’ll trust me completely.

  9

  Because they had met this way so many times before, Ethan knew which of the tavern’s bedrooms Dorothy would be in. The light of only one candle illuminated the room
at the end of the upstairs hall, but he could see Dorothy was already there, seated on the edge of the bed. As he stepped inside and closed the door behind him, she rose to her feet.

  “Who is that girl with you?” she asked in an anxious voice.

  “She is working with me. I brought her along so that you and Joshua could meet her.”

  “Working with you? What do you mean?”

  “I have heard certain things, and I want to investigate them. Katie is going to help me.”

  “Katie?” Dorothy frowned, clearly skeptical. “But who is she? Where did she come from?”

  “She’s a pickpocket. I found her hiding from British Regulars at the Mermaid. She got a job working there for a time, but now she is working for me.”

  “I don’t like it, Ethan. Is she trustworthy?” That idea amused him. “Trustworthy? No, I’m afraid not.”

  Dorothy started to speak again, but he forestalled her. “Don’t worry, Dot. Katie has very powerful incentives to remain loyal to me. If she wants to stay alive, that is.”

  He could see that did not satisfy her, but he didn’t care overmuch about that. “Forget about her. We are wasting precious time. What news have you for me?”

  She stepped closer to him. In a low voice, she said, “The officer I was talking with just arrived from London to be under Gage’s command, and he says the news there is that Parliament is tired of what they call our childish tantrums. Word is that Lord North will soon be sending specific orders to Governor Gage to arrest Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and all other principal leaders in the Massachusetts Provincial Congress. In addition, anyone caught in possession of a Liberty medal will be arrested for sedition.” Her round face creased with worry. “Ethan, please throw that thing away. If you are caught wearing it—”

  “Your brother wears one, too,” he reminded, and watched her shoulders slump in weary acknowledgment.

  “Aye,” she murmured. “I have not forgotten.”

  “And has he tossed his in the gutter?”

  Wordlessly, she shook her head.

  “And he will not do so. Nor will I. It is something we wear with pride, regardless of what danger may ensue. Throwing it away would be as unthinkable as turning aside from our families.” He knew he was starting to give a damn speech, and he had no time for it now. “Did this officer say anything else?”

  “They want all the weaponry of the colonial militia confiscated.”

  “That is nothing new. Gage just doesn’t know yet how to mount an effective campaign to steal it.”

  “Well, this Captain Montrose told me North is becoming increasingly infuriated with Gage for not taking more aggressive action against us. In any case, Gage has not yet formally received these orders to arrest Whig leaders, and until he does, he cannot very well act on them.”

  “Even when he does receive them, he will take his time in carrying them out,” Ethan replied, “because he will be reluctant to move against people he considers to be fellow Englishmen. He also knows that for every Whig arrested, there will be ten more to take his place.”

  “True,” she agreed, and glanced past him at the closed door. “We should not linger here, and I have more to tell you.” She took a deep breath. “Will you be attending the Governor’s Ball?”

  “Aye.” He gave her a brief smile. “Ethan Harding is invited to all the social events of the season, my dear.”

  “Good. There is talk that a certain Jean-Paul Chevain will be there. He is a French aristocrat, though I don’t know his title. More important, he is an official emissary of King Louis, though his stated purpose in Boston is supposed to be a friendly one.”

  “The French and the English are never friends,” Ethan said with some humor. “But what is said to be his true purpose here?”

  “Evidently, he has been in secret correspondence with Benjamin Franklin about gaining French support for our cause. Loans, in particular.”

  “Excellent. I have been wondering how we might approach France. Trust Franklin to have done so already.”

  “There are those who think you might perhaps talk to him about the possibilities. Perhaps even negotiate the terms of a loan for us if war breaks out.”

  Ethan thought about that for a few seconds. “The French love to irritate the English, especially at a profit, but I don’t see how I can negotiate anything at the ball. Unless I can get him alone, there is too much chance of being overheard.”

  “Some feel that it would be a perfect opportunity.”

  He nodded in agreement. “It would, but Gage will be watching him during his entire visit. Let me think about how it might be managed. Have you any other news? What about Lowden?”

  “I have not been able to discover anything about him we don’t already know. If he is here for some deeper purpose than he claims, I don’t believe any of the officers are aware of it. Even Captain Worth, who is his aide-de-camp, claims to know nothing.”

  “Someone always knows something.” A noise on the other side of the closed door caused him to glance uneasily in that direction. “We’d best go back down.”

  He started to turn away, but her voice stopped him. “Ethan?”

  He looked at her over his shoulder. “Yes?”

  “About that girl—” She broke off and took a deep breath, then said, “Remember your own rule. Trust no one.”

  He smiled at the woman he had known for more than fifteen years, a woman who was the sister of one of his best friends, a woman who had proved her loyalty many times. “Even you?”

  Her plump and pretty face took on a hardened expression. “Even me,” she whispered.

  Although Ethan had ensured that soldiers would not approach her while she waited for him to return, that did not stop them from staring at her. When an officer at the next table lifted his tankard to her in an admiring salute and licked his lips, Katie gave him a fierce scowl. “Shame on you,” she rebuked him in a censuring voice reminiscent of Miss Prudence. “Shame, shame. You are an officer of the British Army. Behave yourself.”

  The officer’s mouth fell open in astonishment at her words as his fellow redcoats laughed. Katie remembered how Ethan had been talking to some redcoats earlier, and though these were not the men he had been talking to, she wondered if she might engage them in conversation and see if they knew anything about Ethan that might be of use.

  But before Katie could put this plan into operation, the door of the tavern opened, and another British officer entered the White Swan. It was Lieutenant Weston.

  Katie cursed Ethan for bringing her here and decided it would be wise to make a hasty retreat out the back before the lieutenant saw her. Ethan’s assurance that he would buy her way out of jail was not very comforting, and Lowden had already told her if anything should go wrong, he would not come to her aid. Avoiding a confrontation with Weston was clearly a good idea.

  Katie sidled out of the taproom, hoping the lieutenant would not see her. Once out of the room, she raced through the tavern kitchen and out the back door, but she had barely taken half a dozen quick steps down the alley before a pair of strong hands grabbed her from behind and turned her around. She looked up into the angry, flushed face of Lieutenant Weston and knew she was going to have to do some pretty fast talking.

  “I knew it was you!” he shouted. “You’re the witch who lifted my purse.”

  “Mother of God,” Katie muttered under her breath, not knowing herself if it was a curse or a prayer. She did not want to deal with this man. He was drunk and angry, and the malevolence in his eyes was unmistakable. She was in serious trouble.

  She gave him a dazzling smile as her mind rapidly invented possible strategies. She could pretend she didn’t know anything about the disappearance of his purse. Or she could give him a hard-luck story about a dying little sister. Maybe a starving mother. Or…

  Weston shoved her back against the wall of the alley before she could put any of her ideas to work. “You owe me three guineas,” he told her, “and you can pay it back right now.” />
  Katie could feel his hands groping beneath her cloak to pull up her skirt. Panic flooded through her, but she wouldn’t show it to this lout. She’d be damned first.

  “Let me go, you bastard!” She clawed and kicked at him, trying to get away, but her efforts were in vain. Lieutenant Weston had all the strength of a seasoned soldier. When she heard the ripping sound of her skirt, she realized with sickening certainty that she was going to be raped right here, in an alley, against the wall of a tavern.

  She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye, but before she could assimilate what it was, Lieutenant Weston was pulled away from her. She sagged back against the wall, trying to catch her breath as she watched Ethan drag the other man into the center of the alley. He gave the soldier a shove that sent him stumbling back a step or two, then he pulled off his cloak and evening jacket and tossed them aside.

  Even in the dim light of the moon, Katie could tell that Ethan was furious. She could feel the anger emanating from him like heat from an oven. The soldier sensed it, too, for he glanced about as if for help.

  Ethan’s mouth curved upward in derision. “What is it, sir? If you have friends inside, I’m sure they are too drunk to come to your aid. You planned on having only a woman to fight with, but you were wrong.”

  “She’s a thief. I was only getting what was owed to me. Cease this interference, or I’ll slit your throat and take my payment from her anyway.”

  Katie saw Ethan suddenly jump sideways. She realized Weston had pulled his knife from his belt and that Ethan was trying to avoid the slash of the blade. The redcoat was surprisingly quick for a drunken man and lashed out again with the knife, this time slicing open Ethan’s shirt. Katie saw a flash of silver against Ethan’s chest, and though she did not know what it was, Weston obviously did.

  “Well, what have we here?” the officer asked, pointing at Ethan’s chest with the knife. “A Liberty medal. Who’d think a fancy toff like you would be one of those rebel curs who commit treason against the crown? Now I really have reason to kill you.”

 

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