The Charade

by Laura Lee Guhrke

  “Shh,” she admonished, but she laughed with him. “People are staring.”

  “They’ll think you are simply doing what mistresses do best.”

  “And what would that be?” She shot him a flirtatious glance and took another hefty swallow of punch. “You have all your clothes on.”

  He looked down at the almost indecently low neckline of her gown. “Unfortunately.”

  Katie caught her breath. It was unnerving when he looked at her like that, when he let her know he wanted her. It did something to her, something warm and melting, something dangerous and irresistible. She leaned closer to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body.

  “Careful,” he said softly. “As you said, people are staring.”

  She sat back, hating herself for being susceptible to a man’s desire, even for a moment. It was foolish and futile and would only make things more complicated than they already were.

  She drew a deep breath. “Anyway, I didn’t like the woman at all. She’s simply awful.”

  “’Tis fortunate I’m the only one listening to you speak of her in such a way. She is the daughter of an earl.”

  “That doesn’t mean she isn’t a horrid woman. I think she loves her dog more than she loves her husband.” She shivered suddenly. “I don’t blame her.”

  Ethan tensed beside her. “What do you mean?”

  Katie felt her insides twist at her careless slip, and she decided she would be wise to drink no more rum punch this evening. It appeared to be having a dangerous effect on her—loosening her tongue and lowering her guard. She could not afford to make mistakes of that nature. They could cost her life.

  She hastily improvised a reply for Ethan to cover her mistake. “You’re the one who told me Lowden is ruthless and ambitious. Besides, he’s a peer, and I’ve seen enough of those to know they are all alike. Cruel, greedy men with stupid wives, and Lady Lowden did not alter my opinion of that class tonight.”

  “Indeed?”

  “She cares for naught but her dog and her position in society, her favorite pastimes are piquet and scandal-mongering, and her greatest ambition is to possess more clothes than she could ever wear. Did you see those jewels draped all over her?” Katie gave a wistful sigh. “I could live like a duchess for two years on that necklace of hers.”

  “Don’t even think about taking it,” he murmured in her ear. “Should you get caught stealing the jewels of a peeress, even I don’t possess enough money or influence to save you.”

  “I wouldn’t get caught. I could slip it off her neck, have it in my pocket, and be out of Boston before she even realizes it’s missing.”

  “Forget it, Katie. Did you learn anything about Lowden from her?”

  She would have lied if necessary, but in this case she didn’t have to. “I learned nothing of importance. She believes her husband is here as the liaison he claims to be and says she knows nothing more about it. Perhaps there is nothing more to know.”

  Ethan shook his head. “A man as ambitious as Lowden would not come all the way to the colonies to take up a position clearly below his station. There is more to this than we know. Perhaps Holbrook’s desk will reveal more. When do we implement this plan of yours to get into his desk?”

  “We have to be the last guests to leave the party.”

  “Shocking bad form, my dear, but if we must, then we must.”

  “When we are the only ones left, you must insist that we adjourn to his study for a glass of port to finish out the evening. Say you find that room to be the most comfortable or something, and we’ll go in there for a drink.”

  “And once we are having this cozy drink with our host? What then?”

  “Wait until you see Holbrook set his glass down for some reason, then distract his attention. I’ll do the rest.”

  It was nearly dawn before the other guests had departed and they could put Katie’s plan into effect. Ethan was successful at finagling their way into Holbrook’s study about half past one in the morning with the express wish of seeing his collection of erotic art before they left. Katie had seen enough dirty pictures in her life to know Holbrook’s sketches were anything but art, and she heartily wished Ethan had found some other pretext. Fortunately, she had been forced to endure only one lewd comment from their host and one quick glance through his collection before Ethan called the other man’s attention to a particularly disgusting pen and ink drawing, and Katie was able to make use of what she had purchased in Mt. Whoredom.

  Holbrook had turned his back to her, but Ethan was watching Katie out of the corner of his eye as she pulled the tiny blue bottle out of her stocking. She opened it, dumped the contents into Holbrook’s port, and had the bottle tucked back into her garter in scarcely more than the blink of an eye.

  Five minutes later, Holbrook was unconscious.

  Ethan raised one eyebrow as he watched the fellow slide off the end of the settee and onto the floor. Holbrook’s head hit the floorboards with a thump, and Ethan turned to her, that half smile curving one corner of his mouth. “I become more grateful every day that you are on my side.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” She pulled the pouch out of her garter, then sat down at Holbrook’s desk. “Lock the door in case one of the servants decides to come in.”

  Ethan complied, then crossed the room to stand beside her as she pulled her leather pouch out of her garter and bent her head to the drawers of the desk so that she could examine the locks. “What did you put in his drink?” he asked.

  “Holy water.” Katie laid the small pouch on the desk, opened it, and selected one slender metal pick from the half dozen in the pockets of the pouch.

  “Holy water?” he repeated in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

  “That’s what thieves call it. A few drops of holy water in a man’s drink, and within minutes he falls asleep. Then it’s a simple matter to fleece him of his money purse, watch, jewelry, and anything else of value he might be carrying. Meg and I often used that trick. Very handy stuff, holy water.”

  Ethan shook his head, watching as she put the end of the metal pick into the keyhole of the desk’s top drawer and began to work the lock open. “I must confess, you are the most intriguing woman I have ever known. The depth of your knowledge regarding matters of swindling, chicanery, and theft never ceases to amaze me.”

  “Thank you, I think.” The lock clicked, and Katie removed the pick. She then tackled the second drawer. When that one was unlocked, she began work on the third.

  “So,” he said as he watched her, “the servants will think he has passed out from drink, and no one will ever know we had a look through his papers.”

  “Exactly.” The last lock of the desk was opened, and she stood up. “We can rifle through his desk to our hearts’ content, and I assure you, he won’t wake up. When we leave, we tell the butler that the master has passed out, and he needs to be put to bed. He’ll wake up with one hell of a headache, but he’ll never know what really happened.”

  Ethan laughed low in his throat as he sat down at the desk. Katie leaned down beside him. Pressing her lips to his ear, she whispered, “Now, tell me again how clever I am.”

  “You’re very clever,” he said, pulling open the first drawer. “As I said before, I’m glad you are on my side.”

  She gave a sigh of satisfaction and tried to remember she was not on his side as he pulled a sheaf of documents from the first drawer of the desk. He perused them quickly, then set them aside and turned his attention to the next drawer. It took several minutes, but finally Ethan seemed to find something significant. He let out a low whistle.

  “A complete dossier of Lowden from Gage to Holbrook. We are fortunate William has already read this, or I would have had to break the seal.”

  “That would not have been a problem,” she assured him. “’Tis a simple matter to undo a wax seal without breaking it.”

  “Really? You’ll have to show me that trick some other time.” He began reading.

  Katie le
aned over his shoulder, but he turned the sheaf of notes away so that she could not read any of the information, and he frowned at her. “Do you mind sitting over there?” he asked, gesturing to the settee. “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”

  “Ethan, if you think I’m going to let you be the only one to read this, you’re barmy,” she said in a fierce whisper. “I didn’t do all this work only to have my curiosity remain unsatisfied. You have to let me read it, too.”

  He remained unmoved, and Katie scowled at him. “If you don’t let me read it, I won’t lock the desk back up again, and Holbrook will know what you’ve done.”

  “What we’ve done,” he corrected her, but he relented and allowed her to lean over his shoulder to scan each page along with him. It took some time, but they finally found one entry in the dossier that made the entire adventure that evening worth the risks they had taken, an entry that outlined Lowden’s true mission.

  When they had finished reading it, Ethan tucked the dossier back into the desk and returned the seat to her so she could begin locking the drawers.

  “So that’s why Lowden’s here,” she whispered in pretended surprise, as if she didn’t already know the man’s true motives. “To recruit spies and find proof of sedition against the Sons of Liberty.”

  “It makes sense. After all, Lord North has been trying to force Gage to take action for months, but Gage has refused to act without proof.”

  “Why do they need proof? Can’t North just order Gage to arrest the Whig leaders?” she asked as she locked drawers one by one. “Isn’t he the king’s chief minister?”

  “Yes, but he needs support in Parliament to force Gage to act, and he has been unable to get it. So he sent Lowden here to obtain the evidence that will force Gage’s hand. If—”

  The sound of the door handle rattling interrupted his words, and both of them froze, looking at each other in dismay. On the other side of the door, a concerned male voice spoke. “Sir William? It’s Roberts. Why is the door locked? Are Mr. Harding and Mrs. Armstrong still in there with you?”

  Katie was out of the chair and out from behind the desk before the butler finished speaking, her leather pouch tucked safely back in her garter. She waved Ethan to open the door and bent down beside Holbrook. When the butler entered the room, he found Mrs. Armstrong gently slapping his master’s cheeks and looking quite distressed.

  “Oh, dear,” she said with a sigh as she leaned back on her heels. “Ethan, darling, I’m afraid that last glass of port proved to be too much for dear William. Roberts, you couldn’t have arrived at a better moment. We were just about to fetch you.”

  Katie rose to her feet as the butler crossed the room to stand beside her. He stared down at his master’s supine body and shook his head. “He usually holds his port better than that, madam. I don’t understand it.” The butler looked at Ethan. “Why was the door locked, sir?”

  Ethan frowned and tugged on his ear, looking like a man utterly perplexed. “It wasn’t locked, Roberts. I opened it without unlatching it. Does it tend to stick?”

  “Aye. It does.” He looked down at Holbrook’s stout form again and sighed. “Well, I’d best put him to bed. I’ll see you both out first.”

  “Oh, no,” Katie said hastily. “Please don’t bother with us, Roberts. Tend to your master. We’ll see ourselves out.”

  They left the room together, and the butler’s voice drifted toward them as they walked to the foyer. “If you say so, madam. Good evening.”

  They managed to get into Ethan’s carriage and be halfway down the street before they looked at each other and burst out laughing. Katie felt that familiar rush of exultation and energy that always came after a successful coup. Her entire body tingled with the excitement of the moment. When she looked at Ethan, she knew he felt it, too.

  “Does it tend to stick?” She mimicked his words to the butler between gasps of laughter. “Ethan, I believe you would have made an excellent swindler.”

  “I believe you’re right, especially with you as my tutor. Did you manage to lock all the drawers before Roberts arrived?”

  “Of course I did.”

  “Very good.”

  “Very good?” she repeated. Still laughing, she grasped the edges of his cloak and leaned closer to him. “Very good? I drug the drink of our host, pick open the locks on his desk, and help you find exactly the information you’re looking for, and all you can say is ‘Very good’? I was a damn sight better than good, Ethan Harding. I was bold, brave, and daring. I was brilliant.”

  She gave his cloak a hard tug, pulling him close, close enough to feel his warm breath against her mouth. “Say it. I was brilliant.”

  “You were brilliant.”

  His mouth came down on hers before she could reply, and a heady thrill of triumph swept over her, but that feeling was almost immediately replaced by a feeling so potent, so raw and powerful, that any idea of triumph was forgotten.

  Her mouth opened freely beneath his, and he tasted deeply of her with his tongue as his hand slid into her hair and he pressed her down into the seat of the coach, overwhelming her with the weight of his body. “Ethan,” she gasped against his mouth.

  He tore his lips from hers and pulled back to look into her face, as if he were giving her a chance to call a halt. But she did not want to call a halt. She wanted more of his kisses. She reached up and removed his hat and wig, tossing them onto the floor of the carriage. Then she pulled away the queue that held back his long, black hair, wrapped the thick strands in her fists, and pulled his face down to hers. “Don’t stop now,” she ordered. “Not yet.”

  He gave her a quick, hard kiss but then pulled back again to tug at the ties that held her cloak together. His hands pulled her cloak apart, and he lowered his head to press kisses along the bare column of her throat. His hands slid up her ribs, to close over her breasts, and even through the layers of her clothing, she could feel the heat of his hands.

  His fingertips caressed the bare skin at the top of her breasts above the low neckline of her gown, and Katie moaned at the sweet sensation. He kissed her and touched her everywhere his lips and his hands could find bare skin in the close confines of the carriage—her throat, her face, her mouth, her collarbone, the tops of her breasts—until she was sobbing each breath, arching up to him, wanting more and more.

  The carriage halted so abruptly that it startled both of them. Ethan lifted his head, uttering a curse worthy of the longshoreman he pretended to be. He sat up, pulling her with him, then yanked open the door of the carriage and got out. He held out his hand to assist her, and as soon as her feet touched the cobblestone walk in front of her house, he was pulling her toward the front door.

  “Wait here,” he told his driver over one shoulder. “I’ll be out later.”

  As Ethan led her toward the house, Katie felt a flash of sanity. She could see the inevitable conclusion of this night, and a little voice of caution whispered to her, reminded her of her mother. Even if Ethan never discovered her secret, even if the war he talked about did not come, it did not matter. Men like Ethan Harding did not marry girls like her. They kept them as mistresses, but they did not marry them. They certainly did not fall in love with them. Hadn’t her mother’s experience taught her anything?

  The moment they were inside the house, he shut the door and wrapped his arms around her waist and bent his head to kiss her again. Katie knew she had to end this now, before she did something she would surely regret, before she became his mistress in truth, before the charade became reality.

  She turned her face away to elude his mouth. “Ethan, what are we doing?” she gasped, pressing her hands against his chest to keep him at bay. “I think—”

  “Don’t.” He pulled her hard against him and cupped her chin in his hand, lifting her face for another kiss. “Don’t think,” he said fiercely against her mouth. “Not now.”

  He kissed her again and again, long, drugging kisses that robbed her of coherent thought and banished any foolish, fle
eting idea of ending what they had begun. There was no way to see the future. Now was all that mattered—this moment with him. Bloody hell, she could die tomorrow. Tonight she was going to live and love with everything she had within her.

  Still kissing her, he reached behind her and began to unbutton her gown. When he reached the last button at the base of her spine, Katie felt as if she were sliding off the edge of the world, drowning in him, in the heat of his mouth and the hard contact of his body. Her knees buckled beneath her, and she curled her hands around the lapels of his evening jacket to keep herself from falling.

  After a long moment, she pulled back, breaking the kiss, but this time it was not to stop, it was not to think. It was to push his jacket off his shoulders. The jacket slid to the floor, and she began unbuttoning his waistcoat. Ethan stood motionless, his breathing hard and fast, his heart pounding beneath her hands as she slipped the silver buttons free with frantic fingers. She started to remove his waistcoat, but he grasped her wrists and gently pulled her hands away.

  “Katie…” Her name was a groan on his lips. “On second thought, we need to stop this for—”

  She shook her head, not wanting to stop. She had chosen this course, and there was no going back. If she stopped, she would think. If she thought, she would change her mind. She didn’t want to change her mind. “Bloody hell, Ethan,” she muttered. “You say women can’t make up their minds?”

  “You misunderstand me, love,” he said, half laughing as he unexpectedly released her wrists. Bending slightly, he slid one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her shoulders, then lifted her into his arms.

  “We need to continue this where we can be assured of privacy. One of the servants might wake up, hear us, and think thieves had invaded the house.”

  “They’d be right,” she whispered. “Remember Holbrook.”

  “We didn’t steal anything.” He nodded to the table beside them. “Grab the candle.”

  Katie did so, and Ethan carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. Anticipation curled inside her like tongues of fire, making the journey up the stairs seem to take forever.