Less Than a Gentleman

  The door to the passageway was disguised to look like part of the wall, the latch embedded under a chair rail. He opened the door, wincing at the noise it made. The hinges needed to be oiled. With the lamp in hand, he entered the passageway.

  It was filthy. His last visit had been in the dark, but now he could see the white walls were festooned with cobwebs. Footsteps from his last visit were still imprinted on the dusty floor.

  He stopped at the entrance to the library and listened. Male voices rumbled inside, too muffled to decipher, but he would be able to hear if he opened the peephole.

  Quietly, he set down the lamp and extinguished the flame. To keep his steps silent, he removed his shoes. In the dark, he located the peephole door at shoulder level and eased it open.

  It squeaked.

  “Did you hear that?” a voice asked with a colonial accent. “Check the door, Pugsley.”

  Matthias heard footsteps. He hunched over to peer through the peephole, but the rectangular opening severely limited his view. He could see the desk, the settee across from it, and the window behind the settee. The curtains were drawn shut. A redcoat officer sat at the desk, his back visible to Matthias. This must be the Loyalist Captain Hickman. He wore a white-powdered wig with a red bow to match his uniform. He held a glass in a bony hand. The contents gleamed like liquid gold in the candlelight.

  A door creaked. “There’s no one there.” Pugsley’s British-accented voice came from the direction of the door, out of Matthias’s view.

  “I want a lock installed on that door in the morning,” the captain ordered. “I suspect some of the inhabitants of this house are Colonial sympathizers.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pugsley wandered into Matthias’s view. He was a short, square man with a broad face. “Bloody Colonials. I wouldn’t trust any of them.”

  The captain cleared his throat. “I trust you are not including Loyalists in that statement.”

  Pugsley gulped. “Ah, no, sir. I was referring to the damned partisans who burned all the bridges and ferries.”

  “They’re a pack of fools.” Hickman leaned back and propped his booted feet on the desk with a resounding thud. “If they hadn’t been so efficient in their destruction, we wouldn’t be here in this comfortable home, enjoying this fine brandy. Help yourself, Pugsley.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Pugsley wandered out of Matthias’s sight, though he could hear the clunk of glass against the sideboard and swish of brandy being poured.

  Matthias drew back from the peephole with a sick feeling in his gut. With the land routes destroyed, the only alternative was to use barges for the entire length of the river. He clenched his teeth. Why hadn’t he foreseen this? He had caused the British to take over his own home.

  Now his mother, Caroline, and her family were all in danger. He rubbed his brow. The enemy was outmaneuvering him.

  Dammit, you have to fight back. He took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. The war wasn’t over yet. He bent over to watch the enemy through the peephole.

  “I believe I’m going to enjoy my stay here.” Hickman finished his brandy. “The ladies are quite lovely.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pugsley sipped from his glass. “You have your choice of pretty wenches—a redhead or a brunette.”

  Matthias gritted his teeth. Of course they would be interested in Caroline. But luckily, he knew she wouldn’t encourage them. She had good reason to hate redcoats.

  “Fill my glass again, won’t you?” Hickman passed his empty glass to the foot soldier. “I have to say Miss Munro’s behavior tonight came as quite a surprise.”

  “How is that, sir?” Pugsley strode toward the sideboard.

  “When I was last here, she hardly spoke to me. I could have sworn she was a rebel sympathizer, but now, I’m not so sure. She was practically in my lap at dinner.”

  Matthias flinched. The lying swine! Caroline would never—

  “Perhaps she’s come to her senses,” Pugsley said. “If she knows a shilling from a sixpence, she’ll realize the rebel cause is doomed.”

  “I don’t care what she realizes as long as she does it in my bed, eh?” Hickman chuckled.

  Matthias’s blood heated to a full boil. It raced to his head, screaming behind his ears. He flattened his palms against the wall and dug in his fingers.

  Hickman accepted his filled glass from Pugsley and slid his booted feet off the desk. “For tonight, I’m taking this brandy to bed.” He stood, his glass in one hand and the candlestick in the other. “Check on the barges before you turn in.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pugsley set down his glass and followed the captain toward the door.

  They walked out of Matthias’s range of vision. As the door creaked shut, the light disappeared.

  He was alone in the dark with only the sound of his breathing, fast and shallow. He rested his forehead against the wall, willing himself to think, but the image of Caroline climbing into Hickman’s bed circled in his head like a hawk hunting for its next kill.

  “Damn it to hell,” he muttered. If he caught Hickman so much as touching her, he’d want to kill the scrawny bastard. Had she actually flirted with Hickman at dinner?

  He turned and leaned his back against the wall. What a fool he was. He’d spent over two weeks in the swamp, convincing himself not to pursue her, when all along she was pursuing other men.

  And it hurt. Damn her, she had the power to hurt him. How had he become so attached when he’d tried so hard to forget her?

  God help him, he was hooked like a fish, and no matter how hard he squirmed, the hook remained snared in his heart. Bloody hell. As Richard enjoyed putting it—the mighty Matthias had finally fallen.

  He’d leave in the morning without seeing her. In fact, he’d be sure never to see her again. After all, he had other matters to attend to. More important matters. For example, he ought to look at the captain’s papers on the desk. He twisted the latch to open the bookcase door. It swung back into the passageway.

  Halfway to the desk, he heard the creak of a floorboard outside the library door. The redcoats must be returning.

  He dashed back into the passageway and shut the bookcase door. Just in time, for he heard the library door open and shut. Through the peephole he saw a faint light. Whoever had entered the library had a candle.

  The light grew in brightness as the person approached. Matthias caught a glimpse of white—a nightgown, shawl, and mobcap. The woman moved behind the desk, her back to him. The candlelight shimmered off her hair. Red.

  It was Caroline. His heartbeat quickened, and he chastised himself for growing excited. As far as he knew, she had come hoping to see Captain Hickman.

  She set the candle on the desk and thumbed through the stack of papers. What the hell was she doing? If a redcoat found her doing this, she’d be in deep trouble.

  She had to be stopped. He twisted the latch on the bookcase door. With the door opened an inch, he hesitated. Did he really want her to know about the secret passageway?

  The floorboard outside the library creaked.

  Caroline gasped and blew out the candle.

  Matthias closed the bookcase door. Damn! He should have nabbed her when he had the chance. What if a redcoat found her?

  The library door opened, and another light appeared. Someone was entering with another candlestick.

  Matthias searched for Caroline through the peephole. She was nowhere in sight, but the curtains swayed ever so slightly. Hopefully, the second intruder wouldn’t notice. Another white nightgown moved into view, this one quite a bit larger.

  It was Virginia. Just like her sister, she placed her candle on the desk and examined the stack of papers.

  “Ginny,” Caroline whispered as she emerged from behind the curtains.

  Virginia gasped. “Dear Lord, Caroline, you gave me such a fright. What are you doing here?”

 
Caroline strode to the desk. “What are you doing here?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Since the redcoats are using this library as headquarters, I assumed there would be important information here.”

  “You’re spying? Oh, no, Ginny. You mustn’t.”

  “Why not?” Virginia asked.

  Caroline planted her fists on her hips. “Because I’m spying.”

  Matthias’s mouth dropped open.

  “No, I should be the spy,” Virginia insisted. “I have more experience than you.”

  “I know,” Caroline said. “You were excellent in Boston. But now, it is my turn.”

  Matthias gulped. Virginia had spied before? And now Caroline wanted to?

  “It is my husband who is fighting the British,” Virginia argued. “If this is the only way I can help him, then it is my duty.”

  “Ginny, you’re in no condition to be spying.”

  “I hate that! Just because I’m pregnant, everyone thinks I’ve become an incompetent dimwit.”

  “I’m sorry.” Caroline touched her sister’s shoulder. “But you mustn’t take the risk. You have children who need you.”

  Matthias groaned inwardly. Did they plan to discuss espionage all night? Didn’t they know a British soldier could come in at any moment? He had to put a stop to this. He reached for the door latch but hesitated. If the ladies knew about the secret passageway, they would definitely continue to spy.

  Virginia adjusted her shawl around her shoulders. “Did you find anything?”

  “No. Actually, I was hoping to avoid this sort of activity. I tried my best to learn something at dinner, but Captain Hickman droned on and on about his great military exploits. I didn’t believe a word of it.”

  “I wondered why you were flirting so much. Thank God the children were in the kitchen. They would have been sorely confused.”

  Caroline shuddered. “I could hardly eat, for his company turned my stomach.”

  Matthias heaved a sigh of relief, then found himself grinning like a lovesick fool. Caroline was true. Caroline was constant. She wasn’t interested in Hickman. She didn’t even like the bastard. His smile faded. What the hell was she doing? If she continued flirting and spying, Hickman would either ravish her or arrest her as a traitor.

  The floorboard creaked again. The women gasped.

  Matthias gripped the door latch. He’d have to protect the women if necessary. And the only weapon he had was Greville’s knife.

  Caroline blew out the candle. “Come hide in the curtains.”

  “I’m too big,” Virginia answered.

  Matthias heard a scuffle of feet and a thump like a sack of potatoes hitting the floor.

  The door opened with another candle lighting the room. Footsteps approached the desk.

  Edward? Matthias gaped at the sight of the boy. Edward set down the candle and picked up the stack of papers.

  Caroline whisked out of the curtains. “Edward!”

  He yelped and jumped a foot in the air. The papers flew from his hands and scattered all over the floor.

  “Godsookers, Aunt Caroline. I almost wet myself.”

  “What are you doing here?” Caroline snatched the papers off the floor.

  “I’m a spy,” Edward announced.

  Matthias banged his head on the wall.

  “What was that?” Edward asked.

  Caroline paused in her search for fallen papers. “I don’t know. It sounded like it came from the wall.”

  “It might be the ghost,” Edward whispered.

  “There is no such thing as ghosts,” Virginia’s voice came from behind the settee.

  “Mama, what are you doing here?”

  “She thought she was going to spy,” Caroline said. “But neither one of you is spying. Do you understand?”

  “But I want to be a spy,” Edward grumbled. “Like Papa.”

  Matthias rubbed his sore forehead. The father was a spy, too? Was the entire family insane?

  “Heaven forbid you should emulate your father.” Caroline stacked the papers on the desk. “Do you know he was captured? He was almost hanged, drawn, and quartered.”

  “Let’s not talk about that,” Virginia’s voice pleaded from behind the settee.

  Caroline winced and touched her mouth.

  “Why don’t we all spy?” Edward asked. “We could make a schedule and take turns.”

  “No!” Caroline wrapped her shawl tighter about her shoulders. “ ’Tis too dangerous for you.”

  “I’m not afraid of Captain Stickman,” Edward boasted. “He’s so bony I could—”

  “Enough,” Caroline interrupted him. “We’ve been here too long. We should leave.”

  Thank God for small miracles! Matthias was beginning to think the threesome would settle down for a game of whist.

  “I hate to say this,” Virginia responded from behind the settee, “but I—I’m unable to get up.”

  “What?” Caroline dashed to the settee.

  “I need more room to get up,” Virginia explained.

  Edward snickered. “You mean you’re stuck?”

  Caroline glared at him. “ ’Tis not amusing.”

  Matthias shook his head. What next?

  Caroline grabbed one end of the settee. “Edward, take the other end.”

  They moved the settee forward. Edward dropped his end with a clunk. Matthias groaned silently. The British had to be dead drunk not to hear them. Caroline and her nephew heaved Virginia to her feet, then moved the settee back.

  “Come, let’s get out of here.” Caroline grabbed the lit candlestick. Virginia and Edward each took an extinguished one, and the threesome scurried from the room.

  Matthias waited awhile to see if any more would-be spies showed up, perhaps the stable boy or barnyard cat. Nothing would surprise him now.

  He snapped the peephole door shut, then opened the bookcase door to enter the library. Unfortunately, it was too dark to read the papers on the desk.

  He peeked out the curtains and waited for the guard to pass. Then he opened the curtains and returned to the desk. Yes, with the moonlight he could make out the words. Damn. Caroline had restacked the papers with some pages upside-down. Those women were asking for trouble.

  He righted the papers and put them in order. Most were simple requisitions for supplies, but one was important—a schedule for the supply barges on the Black River. He grabbed a clean sheet of paper and quickly copied the information. Then he shut the curtains.

  As he returned to the passageway, he folded his copy and slipped it into his coat. It was still his mission, one way or another, to stop the supplies from getting through.

  But right now, he had a more pressing mission to pursue—the demise of the Munro family’s secret vocation. He doubted Edward would spy again. His mother and aunt would forbid it. And hopefully, Virginia would realize how unsuited she was to the task. But Caroline—that feisty firebrand would be the devil to stop. She had to be dissuaded immediately.

  And he was just the man to do it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Caroline shoved a chair against her bedchamber door. No, not good enough. It hadn’t stopped Haversham from entering two weeks ago. And tonight there were redcoats on the third floor. Drunken redcoats, which probably made them even more dangerous. It was too risky to give them a sleeping potion every night. They might start to suspect.

  She dragged a table to the door, then stacked two wooden chairs on top. It would have to do. Hopefully, she wouldn’t need the knife hidden beneath her pillow.

  As she paced about the room, the candlestick beside her bed cast lurching shadows on the walls, disjointed and unsettled. Just like her nerves. She hated to admit it, but she had failed. Her first attempt at espionage had yielded nothing.

  She strode to the window and gazed at the ha
lf-full moon, shrouded in misty clouds. Too many had died for freedom to give up now. Too many like Roger. Tomorrow she would continue. She shuddered at the thought of further flirtation with Captain Hickman.

  A soft tap sounded at her door.

  She gasped. Should she answer or pretend to be asleep? She dashed to the candle to blow out the flame, then hesitated. No, it was better to see the enemy.

  Another knock, a little louder. “Caroline.” A man’s voice.

  She dug under her pillow and pulled out the knife.

  The door jiggled. “Caroline, let me in.”

  He sounded familiar. Could it be? “Who is it?”

  “Who the hell would you expect? Does the name Haversham sound familiar?”

  “Oh.” She exhaled with relief and dropped the knife on the bed. “Just a minute.”

  She dashed to the barricade and lifted the first chair down. So the mysterious butler had finally returned. She grasped the second chair and paused with it in mid-air. What could he possibly want? Another kiss before vanishing for a fortnight? Did he have any idea how much she had worried about him? As if she didn’t have enough to worry about. How dare he appear and disappear without warning or explanation? And the worst part—he made her heart long for impossible things. Love and joy, when reality offered only fear and danger.

  She set the chair on the floor. “What do you want, Haversham?”

  “Inside, dammit.”

  “I’m not at all certain I want to see you.”

  He answered by shoving against the door.

  “Wait.” She dragged the table away from the door. “We shouldn’t make too much noise. And I must say it is a bit rude of you to barge into my room like this.”

  He stepped inside and shut the door. “Would you welcome me if I were Captain Hickman?”

  “Ha! If you’ve come to insult me, you can leave at once.” When he turned, she thought for a moment that he was leaving, but he merely pushed the table back against the door.