freedom to escape. Why bother sneaking around after me?”
“I wasn’t sneaking. And anyway, I have no means of escape.” Without meaning to, she glanced at the desk.
He followed her gaze. “What’s in the desk?”
She pursed her lips.
“The Yquem? What do you plan on doing with the bottle once you find it?” he asked. “Break it, drink it or run away with it?”
“That’s none of your concern. There's a reason you're here at the Carpenter’s ball, and it's not only to keep an eye on me. You are not what you seem.” She listed the evidence on her fingers. “You’re far more cultured than a man who claims he’s been on the sea most of his life. I have some serious doubts about your servitude to a mustard merchant, and finally, you keep losing me. As a minder you’re quite hopeless.” She stared hard at him. “Why are you pretending to be someone you’re not?”
* * * *
Benjamin moved to the window and considered his next move. Down on the street the shops were shuttered for the evening, and candlelight flickered in the windows in the floors above. Horse-driven hackneys rolled by the line of guest carriages outside the mansion, kicking up dust where the coachmen waited in small groups.
“If you won’t tell me, I have no choice but to send a letter to my husband warning him of your treasonous ways,” threatened Catherine.
He laughed. “And why would you do that? Do you think that would prevent him from sending you to the West Indies?”
“Of course not. He’s determined to get rid of me, in no uncertain terms. There's no point in me trying to get into his good graces. No, Mr. Thomas, I have other plans for you.”
The woman was in no position to give him orders, yet she had the audacity to act as if she were. “You seem to think you have some kind of power over me. I’m not your servant, may I remind you.”
She came over and stood beside him, looking out at rooftops of New York. “Of course.” She nodded slowly. “I am aware of that.”
“And so what is it you want?”
“You don’t like my husband. In fact, I believe you detest him. I’ve seen the way you look at him. It appears we have a common enemy. Tell me what you're after. Perhaps I can be of service.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“The glory of seeing Morris Delcour ruined, among other things.”
“I can’t imagine that would be enough for you. You must want something else.”
“I do. But it will have to wait. Agree to help me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Mr. Carpenter is not far from here. All I have to do is fetch him and tell him I found you searching through his private papers.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m a desperate woman. You don’t know what I would or would not do.”
Benjamin considered his options. If he had more time, it was possible he’d find proof Carpenter and Delcour were committing fraud. But Catherine was on to him. She could easily get in the way. On the other hand, perhaps he could take advantage of Catherine’s dislike of her husband and her precarious situation.
“You can tell me,” she said in a softer tone. “Perhaps I can help.”
He faced her. This would only work if he never let down his guard. “I think your husband and Carpenter are not being honest about the quality of the wines they're importing. I'm trying to find proof.”
She smiled. “I have an idea of what you’re looking for.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m not going to tell you, but Mr. Delcour has something hidden away, and he doesn’t know I know about it. Is that good enough?”
“It may be.” Either Catherine was an excellent actress, or she was speaking the truth. He turned away from her and sat behind the desk. “First let’s see if you’re right about the Yquem.”
“Theodosia said it’s in the bottom drawer.”
Benjamin gave it a tug. “It’s locked.”
“If I tell you how to get into the drawer, will you promise me we’ll split the proceeds between
“I wasn’t sneaking. And anyway, I have no means of escape.” Without meaning to, she glanced at the desk.
He followed her gaze. “What’s in the desk?”
She pursed her lips.
“The Yquem? What do you plan on doing with the bottle once you find it?” he asked. “Break it, drink it or run away with it?”
“That’s none of your concern. There's a reason you're here at the Carpenter’s ball, and it's not only to keep an eye on me. You are not what you seem.” She listed the evidence on her fingers. “You’re far more cultured than a man who claims he’s been on the sea most of his life. I have some serious doubts about your servitude to a mustard merchant, and finally, you keep losing me. As a minder you’re quite hopeless.” She stared hard at him. “Why are you pretending to be someone you’re not?”
* * * *
Benjamin moved to the window and considered his next move. Down on the street the shops were shuttered for the evening, and candlelight flickered in the windows in the floors above. Horse-driven hackneys rolled by the line of guest carriages outside the mansion, kicking up dust where the coachmen waited in small groups.
“If you won’t tell me, I have no choice but to send a letter to my husband warning him of your treasonous ways,” threatened Catherine.
He laughed. “And why would you do that? Do you think that would prevent him from sending you to the West Indies?”
“Of course not. He’s determined to get rid of me, in no uncertain terms. There's no point in me trying to get into his good graces. No, Mr. Thomas, I have other plans for you.”
The woman was in no position to give him orders, yet she had the audacity to act as if she were. “You seem to think you have some kind of power over me. I’m not your servant, may I remind you.”
She came over and stood beside him, looking out at rooftops of New York. “Of course.” She nodded slowly. “I am aware of that.”
“And so what is it you want?”
“You don’t like my husband. In fact, I believe you detest him. I’ve seen the way you look at him. It appears we have a common enemy. Tell me what you're after. Perhaps I can be of service.”
“And what do you want in return?”
“The glory of seeing Morris Delcour ruined, among other things.”
“I can’t imagine that would be enough for you. You must want something else.”
“I do. But it will have to wait. Agree to help me.”
“And if I don’t?”
“Mr. Carpenter is not far from here. All I have to do is fetch him and tell him I found you searching through his private papers.”
“You wouldn’t do that.”
“I’m a desperate woman. You don’t know what I would or would not do.”
Benjamin considered his options. If he had more time, it was possible he’d find proof Carpenter and Delcour were committing fraud. But Catherine was on to him. She could easily get in the way. On the other hand, perhaps he could take advantage of Catherine’s dislike of her husband and her precarious situation.
“You can tell me,” she said in a softer tone. “Perhaps I can help.”
He faced her. This would only work if he never let down his guard. “I think your husband and Carpenter are not being honest about the quality of the wines they're importing. I'm trying to find proof.”
She smiled. “I have an idea of what you’re looking for.”
“And what is that?”
“I’m not going to tell you, but Mr. Delcour has something hidden away, and he doesn’t know I know about it. Is that good enough?”
“It may be.” Either Catherine was an excellent actress, or she was speaking the truth. He turned away from her and sat behind the desk. “First let’s see if you’re right about the Yquem.”
“Theodosia said it’s in the bottom drawer.”
Benjamin gave it a tug. “It’s locked.”
“If I tell you how to get into the drawer, will you promise me we’ll split the proceeds between
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