Ethan’s fingers pressed into the mattress so tightly they began to ache. He studied the ambassador’s face, but diplomacy was ingrained in Chevain, and Ethan could read nothing in his expression. A sudden fear gripped him that all his efforts would be for naught. France would refuse her assistance, and without it, Ethan knew he and his comrades could not hope to defeat the most powerful nation in the world.
“What you say is highly sensible, sir, but there is one thing you have not taken into account.”
“What is that?”
“The West Indies.” Ethan leaned forward on the edge of the bed with sudden urgency. “If England has her way, French trade will be winnowed out in those islands. You know that as well as I do. Your only hope of continuing to profit from the spice trade there is to assist us.”
He could tell Chevain appreciated the truth of that, and he pressed his advantage. “There is no reward without risk, sir, and the higher the risk, the more lucrative the reward. If we can defeat England, France would be able to increase its control in the West Indies and make a great deal of money.”
He waited, holding his breath, knowing he had done all he could.
After a moment of silence, Chevain spoke. “It is very sound, what you say. We know England is forcing us out of the West Indies, and we have been concerned about the spice trade there for quite some time.” He paused, then slowly nodded his head. “Very well. If rebellion does break out here in America, if armed conflict happens, I will present your case to our king and urge him to grant the assistance you request. To what extent he will agree, I cannot say.”
Ethan let out his breath in a slow sigh of relief. “That is all I hoped for, sir. My thanks.”
“You seem a sensible young man,” Chevain said, “despite this impossible cause you fight for. Do you really think you can defeat the English?”
“We don’t have to defeat them,” Ethan answered, and rose to his feet. “We only have to make them so sick of us that they let us go.”
When Ethan returned to the other bedroom, Katie asked no questions until Chevain’s mistress had left them. With the doors closed and safely locked, she lit a lamp, then looked at him anxiously. “Well?” she whispered. “What happened?”
Ethan lifted his glass of Madeira from where he had left it on a bedside table. He lifted it high and grinned, feeling jubilant. “To France,” he said, and downed his wine in one swallow, then set the glass aside.
Katie laughed. “You succeeded, then, in what you meant to do?” When he nodded in the affirmative, she followed his example and emptied her glass. The gesture left a tiny drop of wine clinging to her upper lip, and Ethan caught his breath as he watched her sweep it away with her tongue. At that moment, every coherent thought but one went out of his head. Suddenly, the only thing he could think about was how much he wanted her. Even the sweetness of the evening’s victory was forgotten.
She looked up at him, and her smile vanished. She stared at him, wide-eyed and silent, for a long time.
He reminded himself of the resolutions he had made only this morning, and though it took all the strength he had, he made no move to touch her.
“Wait here a few moments,” he instructed her, “then return to the ball.”
“Wait? Why?”
“You will need time to straighten your hair and clothes.”
“Whatever for?”
“We’ve just had a romantic liaison, remember?” She frowned as if perplexed. “We did? Hmm, I must have missed it. If you ask me, Ethan, romantic trysts at balls are highly overrated.”
He laughed as he headed for the door, but his laughter faded as he walked down the long hallway toward the ballroom. After tonight, he would have to let her go. He knew she would leave Boston the moment her indenture papers were rescinded, and he did not want to think about what his life would be like when Katie was not there to make him laugh.
Katie did as Ethan instructed, waiting what she judged to be a suitable interval before leaving the bedroom. She opened the door, and, after a quick glance up and down the long hallway, she started back toward the ballroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that one of the other bedroom doors giving onto the hallway was open, but she scarcely noticed it. Preoccupied with her own thoughts, she continued down the hall, but she had only taken a few steps further before a voice stopped her.
“So, here you are.”
The voice was frighteningly familiar, and Katie froze, paralyzed with fear. She did not need to turn around to know that Viscount Lowden was standing behind her.
She couldn’t just stand there with her back to him, and she couldn’t run away. Katie turned around to find Lowden standing in the doorway of the bedroom she had just passed. He must have been lurking in that room, waiting for her to pass by.
He was smiling at her. Somehow, that only increased her fear.
“Well, my girl, I knew I was right to have chosen you.” He took several steps forward, then seized her arm and dragged her through the doorway of the room where he had been waiting for her.
He shut the door behind them and faced her, shaking his head as if in disbelief, chuckling as if greatly amused. “You truly have a gift for chicanery. So, Ethan Harding is the betrayer I have been looking for. I never would have believed it.”
Katie felt that knot of fear twist into agony. No! she wanted to shout. You are mistaken!
“What do you mean?” she whispered.
“I returned from New York only a few hours ago and have had no time to find out what has occurred in my absence. Imagine my astonishment when I arrive at this ball only to discover that my spy has become the mistress of Ethan Harding.”
Katie could not quite assimilate what was happening. He couldn’t possibly know Ethan was the traitor, she told herself desperately. He could not be certain. He did not have proof.
Lowden laid a hand against her cheek with something almost akin to affection, and she had to fight to avoid turning her face away. “I told you to find the spy and become his mistress, and it seems you have followed my suggestion admirably.”
She wanted to deny it, but she could not seem to speak. She said nothing, and Lowden’s smile slowly faded at her silence, finally turning to a frown.
“Somehow, you discovered that Harding is the one we’ve been seeking, and you are finding the proof of it, is that not so? What other reason could you have for becoming his mistress?”
Seconds ticked by as he waited for her answer.
It was so simple. It was so easy. Now was the moment she had been waiting for, the moment when she could tell what she knew and claim her reward. All she had to do was confirm his suspicion and tell him about Ethan’s Liberty medal. For that, she would be free of Willoughby. She would save her own life and have enough money to start a new one. Katie bit down hard on her lower lip and remained utterly still.
Freedom and money, the two things she had wanted more than anything else in the world, were now hers for the taking, but she could not take them. The price of her life was Ethan’s, and that price was too high. She could not pay it. She would not. All this time, she had been deceiving herself. She would not betray Ethan. She had fallen in love with him.
She had no illusions that he might love her, and there was no hope of a future with him. Nonetheless, Katie knew that whether he loved her or not did not really matter. For the first time since she was a child, she knew what it was like to love someone with all her heart, because she would rather sacrifice her own life than his, and she would do it willingly, without hope of his love in return.
She lifted her chin, looked into the merciless face of Viscount Lowden, and put on the most scornful expression she could manage, knowing the only way out of this situation without betraying Ethan was to bluff her way out. “My lord,” she said with thorough disdain, “I never took you for a fool. At least, not until now.”
Lowden’s brows rose at the accusation, and he said in a low, dangerous voice, “Perhaps you had better leave off insulting me and ex
plain yourself, girl.”
Her heart was thumping so loudly in her chest that Katie was sure he could hear it, but she forced herself to play out the hand she had chosen. She just had to do it convincingly. “Ethan Harding the rebel spy? Are you mad?”
A flicker of uncertainty crossed Lowden’s stony countenance, and she hastened on, pressing her advantage. “Harding cares naught for politics, and even if he did care, he’s hopelessly slow-witted, poor fellow. He couldn’t possibly comprehend the intricacies of politics.” She laughed, shaking her head gently to show the viscount how ridiculous that theory was. “Harding a spy? That is rich indeed, considering that the greatest passion of his life is finding the perfect knot for his cravat.”
Lowden’s frown deepened. “Do you mean to tell me that you are not his mistress? That the gossip is false? That I did not see the two of you slip out of the ballroom just as I arrived?”
She made an exclamation of impatience. “My lord, of course all that is true. I am Harding’s mistress. But Harding is not your traitor. I know this for a fact. Besides, as I said before, he’s too dim for the task.”
“Then I hope for your sake that there is a deeper purpose behind your new profession than having a wealthy man take care of you.”
“Of course I have a deeper purpose.” Her mind raced as she began to invent a tale that would satisfy Lowden and get her safely out of there, but before she could say another word, footsteps were heard coming down the hall, and a fretful female voice began calling for the viscount.
“James, darling, where are you?”
Katie recognized the well-bred accents of Lady Lowden, and though she had never believed in God, she was grateful enough for the reprieve to offer a silent prayer of thanks. Then her mouth curved into a mocking smile. “You’d best go, James, darling,” she told him in that excellent imitation of the viscountess which had so amused Ethan the night before. “Otherwise, people will start to think I’ve become your mistress.”
Unamused, Lowden muttered a curse and started for the door. “I still expect a full report of your activities during my absence. Worth told me you have news for my ears alone.”
“So I do,” she assured him. But I have to think of it first.
“Be at the Stag and Steed on Monday night, and be prepared to tell me everything you know.” He paused with his hand on the door handle. “Midnight.”
“I’ll be there,” she told him.
He left her, closing the door behind him.
“James, here you are!” Lady Lowden exclaimed, her reproachful voice drifting to Katie from beneath the closed door. “People have been telling me they saw you arrive here tonight, but I had no idea you had even returned from New York. Imagine my feelings when I had to be told by other people that you were here.”
Whatever Lowden’s reply, Katie did not hear it, for his answer was too low for her to make out his words. The pair of voices faded as Lowden and his wife walked back toward the ball. Katie waited a few minutes, then followed them to the ballroom.
Fate had smiled on her tonight, giving her until midnight Monday to spin a tale for the viscount, but she knew it had to be a plausible one. Lowden was no fool.
What would she tell him?
It had to be something convincing enough to divert his suspicions from Ethan. She also hoped whatever tale she concocted could keep her from going to the gallows for theft or being returned to Willoughby before Ethan could complete the transaction to buy her indenture.
She sighed, almost wishing she could go back and do the whole thing over. Everything had been so simple at first, and she had genuinely believed she would have no problem turning Ethan over to the viscount. Now she was in love with him, and nothing was simple anymore.
You’re in a fine mess now.
She recalled Molly’s words to her the morning after her bargain with Ethan had been made and almost wanted to smile. Molly had been wrong. Katie knew now that she hadn’t been in a fine mess then, only a minor predicament. Now she was in a fine mess, and she had no idea what she was going to do about it.
When Ethan saw Lady Lowden return to the ballroom, she was accompanied by a man so dandified Ethan knew he had to be the viscountess’s husband. When they paused just inside the ballroom doors to speak with Governor Gage, Lord Percy, Sir William Holbrook, and their respective wives, Ethan nudged Travertine, who stood beside him, and gestured to the couples across the room. “Is that Viscount Lowden?”
Travertine lifted his quizzing glass and took a closer look. “Yes, indeed.”
Though it only confirmed what he already knew, Ethan felt his pulses quicken at the name. So this was the man who had been sent to destroy the Sons of Liberty. Ethan’s lip curled slightly, and he vowed that would happen only over his dead body.
“What’s wrong, Harding?” Travertine asked, observing his disdainful expression. “You are glaring daggers at the man.”
Ethan masked his distaste with a smile. “The fellow is rumored to be one of London’s most fashionable fellows, and I can scarce believe it. His waistcoat is the most hideous shade of puce I have ever seen.”
“I detect some envy in that statement,” Travertine joked. “Perhaps you should learn the identity of his tailor.”
Ethan made a sound of scorn. “My own tailor is far superior.”
At that moment, he saw Katie enter the ballroom. She was immediately accosted by the group near the door and pulled into conversation with them. As she talked with the viscount, she caught sight of him watching her across the room, and she slowly shifted her position so that she faced away from him. Even among the dancers that crowded the ballroom floor, he saw her hand reach behind her and make a frantic beckoning gesture in his direction.
Excusing himself from Travertine, he crossed the ballroom to her side. “My darling girl,” he said in his most fatuous voice, “where have you been?” Without waiting for an answer, he turned to the man beside him expectantly, and Holbrook performed the necessary introductions.
“Your servant, my lord.” Ethan bowed to the viscount in his most dandified fashion, and Lowden mirrored him. That politeness taken care of, Ethan held out his hand to Katie.
As she took his hand, her fingers squeezed his, and he did not miss the look of gratitude she gave him. Her gaze met his, and he saw her mouth the words “Let’s leave now” as she cast a pointed glance toward the door.
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “You look tired, my dear,” he said. “I’ll escort you home now.”
The viscount protested. “But it is quite early still. You must stay a bit longer.”
Ethan smiled and shook his head. “I’m afraid that won’t do, my lord. We couldn’t possibly stay a moment more. I have an appointment early tomorrow morning, and I wouldn’t want to be late.”
Lowden protested again, but Ethan was adamant, and a few minutes later, they were in Ethan’s carriage and on their way back to Katie’s house. Safely inside the carriage with no chance of being overheard, Ethan said, “Did you find out anything interesting from Lowden?”
She looked at him blankly for a moment, then shook her head. “Oh, no, but… I didn’t… I mean, I hadn’t expected to learn anything. I was merely… umm… trying to determine his character.”
“And?”
“I don’t know.” Katie leaned back against the seat and pressed her fingertips to her forehead as if she had a headache.
“I saw him pull you into their circle and make conversation with you. I wonder if he suspects something about you?”
“What could he possibly suspect?” she mumbled. “He’s been back in Boston less than a day.”
“I don’t know, but I hope he arrived too late to notice our little jaunt to the bedrooms and the fact that Chevain and his mistress did the same.”
Katie made no reply, and Ethan glanced over at her. By the light of the carriage lamp, he could see that her eyes were closed and her lips were slightly parted. She had actually fallen asleep.
He stud
ied her in exasperated amusement, wondering how she could possibly sleep now, after the exciting events of the night. He had finally met Lowden face to face. He was also exhilarated by the success of his meeting with Chevain. He was not tired in the least.
But then, Katie was not in this cause because she was a patriot who wanted freedom for the colonies. She was in it because she wanted freedom for herself. Once she had it, she would leave, and Ethan knew he had nothing that would make her stay.
17
Katie had two days to fabricate a story for Lowden, and by the time she arrived at the Stag and Steed on Monday night, she had what she felt was a convincing one. Nonetheless, her palms were sweating in their gloves, and she knew she would be glad when the meeting was over.
The tavern was very similar to the White Swan, with its taproom filled with redcoats gulping down ale and meat pies. One glance at the taproom, and Katie decided it would be wise to use the rear entrance through the kitchen. She circled around to the alley and entered the Stag and Steed by the back door. Mrs. Gibbons, her gnarled face flushed from the heat of the ovens, jerked a thumb toward the stairs. “He’s waiting for you. Same room as before.”
She nodded and walked through the buttery, then mounted the stairs to the upper floor. Lowden was indeed waiting for her, for when she tapped on the door of the room where they had first met, her knock was promptly answered with a command to come in.
She entered the room, closing the door behind her, and the viscount rose from the long table that stood between them, looking just as ruthless as he had the first time she had seen him. She swallowed hard, but she pasted an expression of supreme self-confidence on her face. “Good evening, my lord.”
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