Masque of Betrayal (42 page)

Jacqui marched up to him and raised her chin mutinously. “Are you
forbidding
me to write my column?”

“I bloody well am.”

“And I’m refusing to accept your husbandly dictate.”

“May I intercede?” Hamilton put in mildly, trying to hide his amusement at watching this tiny slip of a girl brazenly confront the invincible Dane Westbrooke. “What I was going to suggest, prior to your marital dispute, was a different approach for Laffey to take. One that would compel our traitors to act, yet not endanger Jacqueline in any way. Would you care to hear the details?” A flash of humor crossed his face. “Or would you both prefer to remain as you are, stubbornly glowering at each other?”

Dane’s rigid expression did not change, nor did he tear his unyielding gaze from Jacqui’s. “I’m listening.”

Jacqui’s chin came up another notch. “So am I.”

“I can see that you are.” Alexander chuckled, sitting on the edge of his desk and folding his arms. “In her last column Jacqueline alluded to the new set of conditions I was drafting for Grenville.”

“That’s right. It nearly got her killed,” Dane challenged.

“Agreed. But suppose Laffey’s next column were to inform his readers that the new Jay document had been completed and was awaiting immediate transport to England. Further, suppose Laffey openly stated that neither he nor anyone else had knowledge of the specific terms of the new proposal. Anyone else, that is, except the one person who drafted it”

“You.” Jacqui turned to Alexander, interest and admiration flickering in her eyes.

“Precisely.” Hamilton inclined his head perceptively. “Interrogating you, Jacqueline, would no longer benefit our culprits: first, because this new Laffey column will convince them that, despite your dual identity, you were being truthful when you feigned ignorance of the Jay negotiations to your captor; and second, because another abduction would be too risky for them, especially since Dane’s appearance at the cabin means they would have him to contend with as well as you.”

“Where does that leave you, Alexander?”

For the first time, Dane also turned to face his friend.

“Quite safe, actually.” Hamilton smiled faintly. “Since Laffey’s column will cleverly reveal that the document in question is well hidden in my office, I will be spending a greater portion of my workday at home. Dane, you and I can alternate keeping a discreet watch outside my office.”

“But will the traitors believe the information I provide?” Jacqui asked.

“They will if you make it convincing yet subtle,” the Secretary replied, a sparkle in his eyes. “You did boast that you were the finest of writers, did you not?”

“I did, sir,” Jacqui agreed at once. Then she frowned. “But if your plan succeeds, the felons will break into your office searching for the papers.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“But Mr. Secretary”—Jacqui looked perplexed—“there
are
no papers.”

“Ah, but there will be.” Hamilton strolled around to the back of his desk and waved an intricately penned page in the air. “By the time your column has been written and printed, the narrow drawer in my side table will discreetly hold a letter whose tone bears no resemblance to the one Jay is currently using in his negotiations with Grenville.”

Jacqui approached Hamilton’s desk, her confrontation with Dane eclipsed by her interest in the Secretary’s plan. “You intend to instruct Jay to change his negotiating tactics?”

“No. I plan to mislead the traitors into
believing
I am instructing Jay to change his tactics,” Hamilton corrected. “Remember, Jacqueline, if this letter does not differ drastically from its predecessor, we cannot be assured the culprits will take immediate action. We want to apprehend them, yes, but we also want to learn for whom they are working, England or France.” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “In my original document, I urged Jay to demand indemnification for the British-seized American ships and to ensure protection for American vessels as well as improved commercial terms with Britain. In the letter I am drafting, I will advise Jay to maintain peace with the British at all costs, to concede on any point necessary in order to avoid war.”

“If the traitors are British, they will be elated,” Dane responded. “They’ll smuggle a copy of the letter on board the first ship leaving Philadelphia for England. Once Grenville has read the document, he will assume America is prepared to yield her position. He will, therefore, be unbending in his demands.”

“And if the traitors are French,” Jacqui jumped in, “they will act just as swiftly, hastening the letter off to France and advising their government to initiate an immediate plan to subvert the alliance between America and England.” Jacqui’s heart sank as she contemplated the ease with which this feat could be accomplished. For a respectable sum, any number of English privateers could be hired to seize American ships, severing the fine thread of peace still bridging America and England and drawing the two nations into war.

“Precisely,” Hamilton agreed. “Therefore, whether our traitors are pro-English or pro-French, we will disclose not only their identities but their mission as well.” He gave Jacqui and Dane a questioning look. “So, shall we attempt it?”

Jacqui turned around to meet Dane’s piercing gaze. “Yes.” She waited.

“Yes.” Dane surprised her by concurring. “
With
certain conditions,” he added quickly.

Jacqui sighed. “There always are.”

Dane held up his hand, counting off on his fingers. “The first condition is that I write this column with you, Jacqueline. I don’t doubt your capabilities; however, not only am I more thoroughly versed in the Jay matter, I am also a good deal warier than you. So I want equal input. Second”—he didn’t wait for her response—“until the culprits are safely apprehended, I want your word that you will not leave the house alone, nor open the door to anyone you don’t know.” He gave her a meaningful look. “And third,” he concluded, “I want it understood that only Alexander and I will be responsible for keeping vigil at his office; he during the hours he is at work, and I when he is away.
No one else.
” Dane’s pause was poignant. “Now, my obstinate Mr. Laffey, is your answer still yes?”

Jacqui’s mind warred between autonomy and reason. Dane’s points were well taken, his motives noble. But still … could she allow him a voice in her work?

“Compromise,
chaton
,” Dane reminded her softly, reading her thoughts. With solemn tenderness, he extended his open palm. “I want to care … not to control.” He waited, holding his breath, wondering if his wife was ready to take this all-important step.

Jacqui’s mouth curved slowly upward as she placed her fingers in his. “Yes, Dane, the answer is still yes.”

Dane massaged his neck vigorously, flexing his shoulders forward and back. For the fifth time that night he shifted his weight, trying to find a way to remain squatting yet comfortable in a damp cluster of trees on a humid August night. He peered across the semidarkened street to Hamilton’s office, which remained peacefully deserted.

With a stifled sigh, Dane rubbed his bleary eyes. Since Laffey’s article had appeared in print three days past, sleep had become nonexistent and worry rampant. Every waking hour Dane spent either glued to the corner of Third and Chestnut Street scrutinizing Alexander’s empty office or, when relieved at his post by the Secretary’s arrival, glued to Jacqui’s side, assuring himself of his wife’s safety.

Hamilton’s plan was rapidly losing its appeal.

A warning instinct brought Dane up short. He tensed, eyes narrowed on the empty street. Someone was approaching.

Ready to spring ahead, Dane was completely unprepared for the muffled sound and rustle of movement from behind him. He recovered rapidly. With lightning speed, he whipped around and lunged at the shadowy figure, snapping his arm about the intruder’s throat and dragging the pliant body against the rock-hard wall of his own chest. “Who are you?” he demanded, knocking the concealing hat from the now-struggling stranger’s head.

Masses of mahogany curls tumbled down over Dane’s elbow, while slender fingers tugged at his forearm. “Dane … you’re choking me!”

“Jacqui?” Dane released her and, in one sharp motion, yanked her to the grass beside him, forcing her head down so their presence would remain undetected. “Damn you, Jacqueline!” Dane’s clenched teeth muted the roar erupting deep within his chest to a loud hiss. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Jacqui rubbed her throat gingerly and settled herself on the damp ground. “You haven’t slept in three days. I merely came to offer my assistance. I heeded all your stipulations exactly.”

“Jacqueline …” Unconvinced, he crouched over her, reminding her of an enraged panther ready to strike.

“I didn’t leave the house alone,” Jacqui plunged on. “Greta accompanied me. We didn’t even walk,” she added as thunder erupted in Dane’s eyes. “We took the carriage. I instructed our driver to drop me at the corner of Walnut Street, one block from here. He was then to escort Greta back home.” Jacqui took a breath, dejectedly noting the clenching and unclenching of Dane’s jaw. “I know, I know,” she said with a resigned sigh. “I violated condition three: only you and Secretary Hamilton are to keep vigil at his office.” She flashed Dane a small, hopeful smile. “Complying with two of your three stipulations isn’t bad, is it?”

Dane’s fingers dug into her shoulders. “I’m taking you home. Now.”

She purposefully ignored his decree. “You hurt me, you know.”

Dane frowned, stroking gentle fingertips over the red chafe marks on Jacqui’s neck. “Had I acted on impulse, it would have been my pistol, not my arm, at your throat.” He cursed, angry and exasperated. “Hell, Jacqueline … do you know I could have killed you?”

“Never. Your instincts are too good. You would have realized it was me before it was too late.”

Her praise warmed him, and Dane eased back on his haunches, wondering how his beautiful, reckless wife always managed to diffuse his anger and invade his heart. “Your faith in me is staggering,” he muttered. Leaning forward, he pulled her to him and tucked her head tenderly beneath his chin. “Tell me, if my instincts are so infallible, then why did I not listen to them and murder you months ago?”

Smiling, Jacqui nuzzled his throat. “Because your superb judgment surpasses even your impeccable instincts. Not to mention your extraordinary appreciation of rare, unending talents, such as mine.” She stroked his jaw. “All of them.”

A chuckle vibrated through Dane’s chest. “True,
chaton.
You’ll get no argument from me on that subject.”

Jacqui looked up, tipping her head questioningly toward Hamilton’s office. “Has there been no sign of anyone?”

“No. All has been still.” Dane studied her earnest face. “I presume you intend to remain here with me?”

“If you insist, I’ll take my leave. But only if you insist,” she rushed on.

Dane smiled faintly, brushing her lips with his. “Will you vow to remain beside me at all times?”

“At all times,” Jacqui agreed fervently.

“I mean it, Jacqueline.”

“So do I.”

Lightly, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Very well. Besides, your point was well taken … for you to heed two of my three conditions is a remarkable feat indeed.”

“I love you, Dane.”

Jacqui’s words clung to the night, sank into Dane’s soul.

Silently, he framed her face between his palms, stroking his thumbs over, her cheekbones, caressing her with his melting silver gaze. “I know you do,” he breathed reverently. “And armed with our love,
mon chaton colereux,
there is nothing we cannot do.”

Easing back, Dane settled Jacqui beside him, wrapped a possessive arm about her shoulders, and turned to watch the empty street.

Hours passed.

It was the deepest part of night when Dane felt it again … that acute sense of imminent danger. He tensed, squeezing Jacqui’s arm in warning.

Jacqui blinked, instantly snapping out of her light doze. Peering into the darkness, she wondered what sound Dane had heard, what movement he had spied. To her the night remained as it was, peaceful and undisturbed. Still, she did not stir, trusting in the uncanny accuracy of Dane’s sixth sense.

Minutes later, the sound of a set of footsteps … tentative, barely audible … reached Jacqui’s ears. They paused, then continued, slowing only as they rounded the corner of Third Street. Jacqui could scarcely breathe. All she could do was watch as the dim moonlight outlined the shadowy figure of a hooded man … a man who was quietly but insistently fumbling at the door of Hamilton’s office.

Jacqui and Dane remained still as the intruder bent over the lock, working feverishly. Finally, he straightened, triumphantly easing the door ajar. He paced back to the sidewalk, peering quickly to the right and left, ascertaining that he was indeed unobserved.

Jacqui stared, studying the man. His height … his build … his carriage … the way he moved. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp.

“What is it?” Dane asked, his voice nearly inaudible.

“That’s the man who kidnapped me,” Jacqui hissed.

Dane’s grip tightened. “Are you sure?”

Jacqui nodded vehemently. “I’m sure.” She swallowed. “What do we do now?”

With predatory purpose, Dane scrutinized the enemy, half tempted to rush up and thrash the man who had endangered Jacqueline’s life … yet restraining himself from doing anything so rash.

The intruder slipped into Hamilton’s office.

“We wait,” Dane replied in a lethal whisper. “For however long it takes … we wait.”

For what seemed like aeons but was, in fact, a mere half hour, Jacqui and Dane knelt, cramped and alert, behind the trees. Their eyes followed the pale flicker of light signifying the intruder’s whereabouts in Hamilton’s office. To and fro it moved, again and again, until at last it remained fixed in the far corner of the Secretary’s office where his sideboard was situated.

“I think our traitor has found his prize,” Dane murmured.

Sure enough, on the heels of Dane’s words the light was extinguished and the door was eased open. The dark figure made his exit.