“And now you want to give me my orders and send me marching?”
Apparently Eli was going to bait Jack any way he could. “Constance believes you have access to information that could be of significance to the general.”
“I do. Officers come into the shop. They talk. I listen. I observe. They assume I’m a loyalist because of my family, but perhaps my most valuable information comes through my other business.”
“You own another business? Constance didn’t mention that.”
“Own isn’t quite the word for it. Facilitate might be better.”
Jack was done with Eli’s nonsense. “What is the nature of your endeavor?”
“I work with smugglers. They bring in their goods. I pay them. My customers pay me.”
Jack had told Constance not to tell him anything about how she acquired goods that weren’t in any shops. “And you raise the price and take a cut.”
Eli shrugged. “It would hardly be worthwhile otherwise.”
“Supporting the smugglers is supporting the British. My men are out there trying to prevent supplies from entering the city, yet I’m supposed to work with someone who’s profiting from it, sitting in his shop, in his fine clothes, taking money he’s not even worked for. You might as well be one of them.”
Color rose in Eli’s face, and he stood, glaring down at Jack. “How dare you? As you said earlier, you do not know me or what I do. The goods I bring in aren’t only going to loyalists. There are people in this city who are starving. They can’t get the food they need to survive unless they get it from the smugglers.”
“And pay your inflated prices.”
“I charge inflated prices to women like Constance who can afford it. If you’re starving, I do my best to get you what you want as cheaply as I can, even if I lose money.”
Jack stared at him. He’d certainly never expected that. “Y-you do?”
“Is that so hard to believe? Apparently you have already formed an opinion of me.”
Jack recalled the roughness of Eli’s palm.
“It seems my impression was wrong. I apologize most heartily.”
Eli gave a curt nod and settled back into his chair. “Thank you, sir.”
“Ultimately, we need to know what the British are planning, and we need to know how many of them there are; how many troops, how many ships, where they’re moving to next, what they will do come spring. We must find their weaknesses and exploit them. They have numbers and experience on their side. We are…a mess. We’re struggling to supply our men. Almost all of them are untrained. They aren’t being paid, and many of them are ready to head back home and give up.”
Eli frowned. “Even with the information we might learn, do the rebels have a chance?”
“Washington believes so, and I… I have to believe it too. We’ve gone too far to turn back. I’m going to fight as hard as I can to help us win this.” He glanced down at his leg, willing it to heal faster.
“You said Washington sent you here.”
Jack nodded.
“Then he must believe this work is important. You are contributing, and it’s not as though the army can do much this winter.”
Jack sighed. “They can train.”
“You can do something far more valuable if we discover the information that could allow Washington to make a preemptive strike come spring.”
Eli’s ability to grasp the situation surprised him. He was apparently as intelligent as he was pretty.
“Perhaps your leg will heal with some rest,” Eli added.
“I don’t want to fucking rest.”
Eli chuckled. “No, I wouldn’t imagine you do. You really despise this, don’t you? City life? Parties?”
“I could’ve had this life with my family back in Philadelphia. I chose to move to the country because I craved solitude. I understand you came to the city recently?”
“I did. And I love it. This is the life I’ve been looking into from outside, like a child at the window of a sweet shop. I love the intrigue of society, and I’m good at it. Money and power give you freedom, and I will never be at anyone’s mercy again.”
“Leaving the city was what gave me my freedom. I was suffocated by the whirlwind of society,” Jack said.
“Then you’ll suffer nobly for your country and return to your farm when we win.”
“I suppose so.” But Jack wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t the same man now. Would his simple life feel as satisfying after everything he’d seen? He looked at Eli, and all the desire he’d felt earlier came flooding back. He craved excitement far more than he wanted to admit.
“So…” Eli paused, and his lips remained slightly parted. Jack was powerless to look away. “Tell me what you need from me.”
His words were chosen deliberately, Jack was certain of it. Eli knew what Jack really wanted.
“I need you to listen carefully to any talk you hear of British numbers or movements. Constance will continue to include you in her circle. Your skills are different than mine, so we’ll each approach different people at her entertainments. You also have your store and your…other connections. Gather what information you can, but do not write any of it down.”
Eli huffed. “I suppose I also shouldn’t tell the king’s men I’m looking for information to give to the rebels.”
How did Jack find Eli attractive when he was so exasperating? “I’m not the one who left an incriminating letter lying around.”
“The letter was only incriminating because Constance was involved in the same type of work I am.”
“True, the letter matters little, but the essay on your desk that she read…”
Eli’s cheeks colored. “I expect the people I invite into my office to have better manners. If I’d known she would go plundering through my things, I wouldn’t have let her in.”
“Precisely the problem. We can’t have the expectations we did before the war. I expected to retain my gentlemanly manners when I joined the army. Now I’m a spy, the very picture of mean conduct.”
Eli nodded. “I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
“We have to take this seriously.”
“You think I don’t?” Eli’s tone sharpened.
“I think it best to warn you.”
Eli narrowed his eyes. “You’re determined to think the worst of me, and I think I know why.”
“Do you?” Jack didn’t like Eli’s implication.
“Yes, but why don’t you tell me.”
“There is nothing to tell. I don’t dislike you. I am simply trying to make you understand…”
“What? How to be a good soldier? I’m no good at taking orders. I never have been. But I’m damn good at getting information out of people and figuring out how to use it to my advantage.”
Jack stared at him. He was even more beautiful when he was impassioned, his color high, his eyes bright, his breath quickened like it would be if they were…
Eli raked him head to toe with his gaze, lingering on his cock, which responded to the attention. “Perhaps you could use a lesson in discretion yourself. It won’t do for either of us to damage our reputation.”
Jack glared at him. “I understand how to exercise control over myself. I hope I can expect the same from you.”
“I can do even better. I know when I should control myself and when passion is exactly what’s needed most.”
Jack stared at him. He had no idea what to say to that.
A few moments later, Eli rose. “If that is all, I’ll bid you good night.”
This man was dangerous in every way. “You’ll be receiving another invitation when we are ready to speak with you again.”
“I’ll accept any invitation you offer, and I promise you won’t regret it.” With that said, he exited the room.
Jack dropped his head into his hands. Eli was outrageous. Pompous. Asinine. Jack had thought relinquishing his standards of gentlemanly conduct would be the worst thing about this mission. Apparently, he was wrong.
/> CHAPTER NINE
Jack was in his sitting room, writing letters to his mother and sister, when someone knocked.
“Yes?”
A servant opened the door. “This was delivered for you, sir. Shall I place it on the table?”
“Yes, thank you,” Jack said.
As soon as the woman left, he pushed away from the desk and picked the package up. It was solid and heavy. It had to be a book. When he tore the paper, a note penned in wildly flourished handwriting slid out.
My Dear Mr. West,
I endeavor to give all my customers satisfaction, and it has weighed upon me that I sent you on your way with a book I thought less than perfect for you. So serious a tome cannot be best for a man who is recuperating from a grave injury. Please accept this alternative as a gift. It is my hope you shall be diverted by the story. If not, perhaps it can serve as a sleeping draught.
Yours affectionately,
Elias Ashfield
Jack frowned as he turned the small book over to see the title. The Tomb of Sorrows. He snorted. What possessed Eli to recommend another of his gothic novels? Quite plainly, the man didn’t understand Jack at all.
He opened the book to the first page and sneered at the words under the title: “A gothic novel of woe and intrigue.” He made a sound of disgust and set the book down, shaking his head at Eli’s poor taste in books.
When he’d signed and sealed both letters, curiosity got the best of him. He picked up Eli’s gift and turned to the beginning of the story. Perhaps it would amuse him to find out how absurd it was. Writing to his family when he couldn’t tell them where he was or what he was doing had lowered his mood. He could do with something to improve it, and mocking Eli might be just the thing.
He reached the end of the first chapter before moving to a more comfortable chair. The story was terrible. Melodramatic nonsense. But what was going to happen to Clarissa? Jack had no confidence she’d make it out of the woods alive.
When the gong sounded for dinner, Jack realized he had been reading for well over an hour. He threw the book on the table as if it had burned him. What was wrong with him? The story had pulled him in, and he’d fallen into it like poor Clarissa into the deep, dark pit. It was horrible, and yet it was…wonderful. Engaging.
The book had done exactly what Eli promised it would, helped him forget everything but heart-pounding adventure. Eli would be there tonight to gloat over his triumph. Jack could say he’d never opened the foul thing, but he didn’t need any more lies in his life at present. Maybe Eli wouldn’t ask about the delivery. And maybe General Howe would show up and tell Jack all his plans for the coming year in excruciating detail.
***
Later that evening, Jack and Eli circulated through the rooms as Constance’s guests played cards and gossiped.
Eli took Jack’s arm, a companionable gesture that shouldn’t have aroused Jack so. “Mrs. Sullivan has the most amazing set of acquaintances. Mayhap you’ll find yourself a wife while you’re here. I suppose it would be a comfort to have someone to go home to at the war’s end.”
A wife Jack would be unable to love in the way she deserved. No, he would never marry. If Eli had guessed his inclinations, then what was his purpose? Testing him?
“And yourself? Surely you intend to marry soon as well.”
Eli laughed. “Not until I’ve assured my success and can support a wife in style. Still, it’s amusing to consider.” He glanced around the room. “The redhead there.” He tilted his head toward a table where a foursome engaged in a talkative game of whist. “She’s an intriguing prospect.”
Jack considered the woman. She was pretty enough in the way society dictated—pale, perfect skin, hair in a complicated high style, well-tailored gown—but no woman was going to stir his interest the way Eli did. “I suppose, though she’s almost too perfect, too polished. I prefer someone less…” What could he say that didn’t give him away completely?
“Obvious,” Eli supplied.
That would do. “Yes.”
“I heartily agree,” Eli said. He continued his survey of the room. “Ahh. Is the one by the punch bowl more to your liking?”
Jack looked in the direction of Eli’s gaze and saw a tall, broad-shouldered man in an officer’s uniform. His dark-brown hair was braided and tied with a red bow, and his uniform trousers fit more snugly than was necessary, showing off his…impressive assets.
Mustn’t stare. He jerked his attention back to Eli. “I don’t see any women there.”
Eli chuckled. “Neither do I.”
Jack glared at him. “I don’t have time for games.”
“That’s a pity. I love a good round of cat and mouse.”
“I am no mouse.”
Eli studied him for a moment. “Perhaps you could play the cat, then. I’m content either way.”
How did Eli know exactly what to say to arouse him? “Could you please be serious for a few moments?”
“I am serious.”
“We have a purpose here,” Jack snapped, having had enough of Eli’s games.
“One which does not preclude enjoying ourselves.”
A woman approached them, putting a halt to their argument.
“Mr. Ashfield, what a pleasure to see you here.”
“Miss Harding. I had not realized you were acquainted with our hostess.”
“We met quite recently. She and I are putting together a table for whist, and I insist you be my partner.”
“I’d be honored. Miss Harding, this is Mr. West, a cousin of Mrs. Sullivan’s who is visiting her at present.”
Jack bowed. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, madam.”
Her eyes sparkled as she looked him over. “The pleasure is mine, I assure you.”
“Mr. West, I’m afraid I must take leave of you to honor this lovely lady’s request.”
Jack was glad of the reprieve. “I would never infringe on the needs of a lady. Good evening to you both.”
***
Eli took Miss Harding’s arm as he watched Jack retreat across the room. He would have that man in his bed, and it would be glorious. He just needed to get him alone. For now, however, he would concentrate on his real loftier purpose for being here. Fortunately, that wouldn’t be difficult. Miss Harding was a customer of his smuggling business. Occasionally, he provided her with extra services when delivering goods. Their connection was in no way romantic, though, simply mutually pleasurable.
“Who has Mrs. Sullivan chosen as her partner?” Eli asked.
“Colonel Stephens. Have you met him?”
He’d heard of the man and his reputation for a wicked temper and a lack of discretion at the gaming tables. “I have not. Is he a shrewd hand at cards?”
“He’s excellent, when he’s not too far into his cups.”
“Then let’s hope he’s been liberal in slaking his thirst tonight.”
Miss Harding giggled.
“And Mrs. Sullivan, how fares she at the whist table?”
Miss Harding sighed. “She is as perfect as she is in all things.”
An intriguing answer. “Then we will have quite the challenge.”
“I imagine a man as quick-witted as you can hold his own in most any game.”
Eli pretended embarrassment at the compliment. “You flatter me, madam. I can only hope to meet your expectations.”
Eli settled across from Miss Harding at the whist table, but he glanced over his shoulder when he had the sensation someone was watching him. Jack stood by the door to the adjoining room, not looking at all pleased. Was he harboring resentment at Eli’s insinuation, or was he disappointed that Eli had left him?
Eli rose as Constance and Colonel Stephens—fresh drink in hand—joined them.
“Oh, Miss Harding, what a fortuitous choice of partner,” Constance said. “The colonel and I were just speaking of the difficulty in finding tea in the city, and I mentioned how helpful you’ve been, Mr. Ashfield.”
After they’d met, Co
nstance had become a patron of more than just Eli’s books.
“Colonel Stephens, please allow me to acquaint you with Mr. Ashfield.”
They shook hands, Stephens’ grip overly firm and dominating, making Eli dislike him immediately. Then all four of them sat.
“So you’re the young man responsible for all the delicacies we see here,” Colonel Stephens said as he shuffled the cards.
“Hardly, but I did supply the needs of Mrs. Sullivan’s cook.”
“And you’re able to obtain these supplies regularly, sir?”
“I am, though with them in such high demand…”
“Yes, yes.” The colonel waved a hand. “It will cost me a pretty penny, but I’ve got to keep my wife happy.”
“By all means. I can provide whatever you need, but we mustn’t keep these lovely ladies waiting.” He pulled a case from his pocket and extracted a card for the colonel. “I know you must be terribly busy with your duties for the king. Tell your wife to come by my shop, and we can discuss her needs.”
The colonel nodded. “I shall do so, sir.”
And I shall seduce her and find out all she knows about those duties of yours. Eli smiled jovially at him and took up his whist hand.
***
Once again, Jack and Eli retreated to Constance’s private parlor as the party wound down in the wee hours of the morning. Neither of them had learned anything significant, but new friendships had been solidified, which could lead to intimate knowledge of General Howe’s plans for the coming months.
Jack was about to declare himself ready to retire, when Eli asked the question he’d been dreading.
“What did you think of the package?”
Jack had told himself he’d be honest, but now, facing Eli, he didn’t want to be. Of course, Eli would see through his lies easily. He was no good at pretense. That’s why he belonged with the army, not here with social adepts like Eli and Constance.
“I didn’t expect to enjoy it, but…”
“Yes?” Eli prompted after a few moments of silence. His smirk was infuriating.
“I sat down with the book before dinner, and an hour passed like it was a minute.”
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