Inside the house, Noel sat wedged inside a linen storage cupboard. His cramped legs had long since gone to sleep on him. He had stuffed the corner of a sheet in his mouth to muffle his coughing, and the linen cloth tasted awful. His clothing was scorched, his eyebrows had been singed, and he was suffering from several painful burns, but it had been worth it to drive Qwip out. Since his escape from the root cellar, he had seen Qwip twice, hovering watchfully just at the corners of his vision. But Qwip had not approached him again. He supposed the creature was trying to reevaluate its next move. For all its lying and changes of direction, Qwip did not appear to think quickly when confronted with the unexpected. Qwip might want to go with him to the future, but it did not want to die in the effort. As long as he had that bluff on the creature, Noel suspected it would leave him alone.
As for Leon, he knew his duplicate was lurking about, up to some devilment. Leon was not likely to stray far when he had the chance to cause trouble.
So Noel had hidden himself, overhearing the Crewes’ puzzlement as to what had become of him and Leon. Preparations for the ball had gone on all day. People had tramped up and down the stairs, but no one had come here for linens. Noel might be cramped in his hiding place, but the rest had done him good. He felt somewhat better, although he was still feverish and achy.
When the musicians struck up a lively reel, and the babble of guests commenced downstairs, Noel emerged cautiously. Taking off his shoes, he crept along the passageway in his stockinged feet and knocked upon a door.
No one replied. He opened it and let himself inside the still room.
Here was where Sally kept her herbal mixtures and household cures as well as stores of candles, oil, beeswax, scouring pumice, string, pickling spice, and salt. Noel poked swiftly through the herbs and elixirs, sniffing and grimacing. Most of it looked like nasty stuff indeed. He found an empty bottle of laudanum, and put it down hastily. He didn’t need any opium derivatives. Finally, however, he found a few suitable herbs and mixed them with honey to make himself a sort of cough syrup. It didn’t taste too bad, and it soothed his throat.
Going out into the passageway, he went exploring until he came to the largest bedroom. No doubt it had belonged to Sally’s late father. The bed had been stripped and the mattress rolled up for storage. There was a closed, musty smell in the room. Personal belongings of the late master had been cleared away. But inside the clothes press, Noel found some clothing that he exchanged for his burned and torn garments. The breeches were too short; the coat was too large around. But at least he no longer smelled quite as smoky. Noel peered at himself in the mirror and gave his face a spit bath to clear the smudges away. He combed his dark hair and parted it on the other side.
Then he went downstairs the back way, avoiding the busy servants, and slipped out into the darkness. Picking up a wooden pail and a dipper, he made his way busily along, keeping his face always in the shadows.
“Water? No thanks,” laughed a sentry, when approached. “Not after this good grog, I ask you.”
Noel glanced around; no one else was near or paying attention. He slung the empty pail against the sentry’s head, knocking off his hat and sending him sprawling. The man lay still, quite unconscious.
“You should have had a drink,” murmured Noel.
Dragging him out of sight, Noel stripped him quickly to his underwear. He gagged the soldier with his own handkerchief and put on the uniform, taking care to remove the rank insignia. Then he touched his fingertip to the trickle of blood running down the unconscious sentry’s face and smeared it on his shirt.
He slipped past the pond and around it to the lane, keeping out of sight. From this angle the house looked handsome, shining with light and merry with welcome. The guests were still arriving, the men in powdered wigs, the women decked out in silken finery. Noel thought of his march with Washington’s wounded troops, thought of the cold and misery of that night, thought of the turnip he’d been given to eat. He found himself amazed that the army had persevered at all in the face of such civilian indifference to the cause of freedom.
But it was time for his own performance. He started up the lane. He did not get very close to the house before a sentry with a bayonet confronted him.
“Stand and identify yourself!” he barked.
Noel’s fever had risen from his exertions. He did not have to pretend fatigue. Bending over with a bout of coughing, he managed to choke out, “Nardek.”
“What?” gasped the soldier. “Lieutenant Nardek? Sir! We feared you’d been captured by the Americans.”
Still coughing, Noel nodded.
“A lantern here! Sharp! And some of that grog.”
Noel didn’t want any rum, but the men pressed around, one throwing a cloak over his shoulders, another putting a cup in his hand. They were full of eager questions.
Noel fended them off, saying, “Must report to the major.”
“Yes, sir! Owens, run ahead and find the sergeant.”
The private ran to obey.
“Just you lean on Corporal Masters,” said the sentry. “God bless your safe return, sir.”
Nodding and accepting their congratulations, Noel walked up to the house with the support of the corporal. He was met at the steps by a sergeant who took a scowling look at him before rapping out orders for word to be passed to Lieutenant Wilcox.
“You look fair done in, sir,” said the sergeant. “All right, Corporal. I’ve got him in hand now. Carry on.”
“Yes, sir!”
With a salute, the corporal scurried back to his post.
“Let’s get you inside to a fire. You’re fair shaking and no wonder, sir.”
The entry to the house had been cleared, but the officers attending the ball had abandoned their partners to crowd in, and the civilians craned their necks beyond. As he made his way through the crowd, Noel saw Sally Crewe standing on the stairs, where she’d been receiving her guests.
She wore a satin dress as blue as her eyes. It was cut low off her shoulders, and her strand of pearls was as lustrous as her fair skin. She wore her golden hair swept up to display her lovely neck. Her face had gone completely white.
Their eyes met, his steady and hers fearful. Then he noticed the sandy-haired man standing next to her in dress regimentals. Thin, tall, rawboned, Major Burton had a jutting nose and piercing brown eyes beneath a set of thick eyebrows. He stared at Noel while one of his adjutants hastened to his side and whispered in his ear.
The major nodded and said something to Sally, who stood frozen.
“What is it?” asked a woman. “What’s happened? I do not understand.”
“Just this moment escaped,” murmured someone else.
They all stared at Noel, who could feel the sweat popping out on his brow. He held himself still, trying not to let his nerves get away from him. When the major finally succeeded in pushing his way through the crowd, Noel drew himself erect, away from the supporting hand of the sergeant, and saluted.
“Lieutenant Nardek reporting, sir! I—”
The room was suddenly very hot. All their faces rushed at him and he forgot what he’d been about to say.
There was a commotion, and then Noel came to, finding himself sitting in a chair in the parlor, an adjutant holding smelling salts under his nose, and the major pacing slowly around the room with a deep frown on his face.
The smelling salts were horrible. Noel grimaced and pushed them away.
“He’s coming round, sir.”
“Eh?” Burton came over at once.
“Poor devil,” said the adjutant. “He’s had a rotten time of things, from the look of him. Tortured, there’s no doubt. And see how they’ve insulted him, stripping off his rank.”
“Yes,” said Burton slowly. “Not Washington’s usual style, to treat prisoners in such a fashion. Or did the Indians get hold of you?”
Noel shook his head and tried to stand up.
“No, no, my dear Nardek,” said Burton, pressing his shoulder. “
Keep your chair. You need a doctor.”
“Must report,” said Noel.
“Yes, and so you shall. I am anxious to hear what you discovered. But slowly, my good fellow. Don’t distress yourself. You need rest and attention first.”
Noel gripped at his sleeve. “Can’t wait.”
He cast Burton a look, then started coughing.
“Ah, Wilcox,” drawled Burton, “run and fetch the lieutenant a glass of water. There’s a good chap.”
“Yes, sir.”
Wilcox hurried out, shutting the door firmly on the curious onlookers still gathered outside. Noel heard him urging people to return to their dancing. In a moment the music resumed.
“You ran more risk than I expected,” said Burton. “I hope for your sake it was worth it. You’ll want a promotion for this bravery, I’ll warrant. Then I shan’t have you as an adjutant. You know how much I value your services.”
With difficulty Noel held his expression neutral. Inside he felt disgust for his duplicate. Leon must have wormed and fawned over this guy.
“Well, then, what have you learned?” asked Burton. “Is it true that Washington’s troops are well trained?”
Noel nodded.
“Blast that Prussian turncoat! He’s been drilling them all winter, no doubt.”
“Looks that way,” said Noel.
“And communications from the French? Has Washington received any?”
Noel shook his head. “I think that has fallen through.”
Burton chuckled and rubbed his hands. “Not the way the wind’s been blowing lately, is it? I’ll warrant the patriots are crushed over that disappointment. We all know they cannot continue without French support.”
Noel said nothing, waiting for his next cue. If his memory was correct, the French would ally themselves officially with America in the next month or two. Burton was going to be a very surprised officer.
The major clasped his hands at his back and mused aloud, “So no help from the French, eh? They’ve enough unrest in their own country, from what I hear. I’m sure the diplomats muddled it. These colonials are fools if they think they have enough sophistication to negotiate treaties with foreign heads of state.” He swung around eagerly. “And the spring campaign? Did you discover anything there? Did you see any maps? Where will he move first?”
Noel shook his head, and the eagerness in Burton’s face dimmed to a scowl.
“Oh, dash and blast, man! The very thing most vital. How am I to outthink this upstart if I don’t have the necessary information?”
“They were more concerned with a meeting of some kind,” said Noel.
“Yes, I know all about that,” said Burton impatiently. “Another futile attempt to stir up resistance among the populace, as though any of these fat farmers cared a tuppence for the trouble the firebrands in Boston wish to cause.”
“But—”
“Oh, it’s as good as settled. The meeting is to be here, tonight. Sally’s already told me. I expect to round up and jail a few of the troublemakers, then the others will fall back into line and we’ll have no more unrest for a while.”
Noel looked at him blankly. “Why would they come here, sir?”
“Dash it, to thumb their noses at us. That’s the American mind for you, always running a dare or a bluff with nothing to back it up. They think we’re too stupid to suspect them of risking a meeting here while the place is swarming with my men. But of course we know all about it.”
“Do we?” said Noel.
“Hmm? What do you mean, Nardek? What’re you getting at?”
Noel shook his head. “I heard nothing about it being here.”
“Blast your eyes,” cried Burton in amazement. “You’re the one who put me on to Sally’s treachery in the first place.”
Noel could have kicked Leon. So much for Leon’s liking the girl. His duplicate was more twisted than he’d suspected. “Well, it’s what I had pieced together. But either I had it wrong or they changed the meeting place. It won’t be here.”
“Where, then?”
Wilcox returned at that moment with a glass in his hand. Burton waved at him impatiently to shut the door.
Noel reached for the glass of water, but Burton all but knocked it from his hand.
“Drink that later. Where, man? If you know at all, speak up!”
“Ollenby’s,” said Noel, and went into a fit of coughing.
Burton and Wilcox stared at each other.
“Dispatch the men,” said Burton.
“Right away, sir.”
“Move!”
“Yes, sir.”
Wilcox scuttled out, and Burton paced the room, fuming.
“I won’t be made a fool of by these colonials. By God, I won’t! As for Sally—”
Noel looked up. “She’s not involved.”
“Not involved?” repeated Burton, boggling at him. “Good God, I made the little minx a double agent. How couldn’t she be involved?”
Before Noel could invent a response, the door opened and Sally came in. She was still very pale, and her eyes went from him to Burton and back to him.
“Sir,” she said unsteadily, “I have just this moment received confirmation from my servant. The traitors are meeting in the—”
“By God, Sally, enough,” snapped Burton while Noel tried unsuccessfully to catch her eye. “I know the truth of tonight’s business. You won’t catch me out again.”
“But I tell you they’re—”
“No, they are not here,” he said firmly. “Lieutenant Nardek has told me the truth of the conspiracy and I’ve already dispatched my men.”
Her mouth opened. She looked flabbergasted and stared at Noel as though she could not believe her eyes. “Lieutenant, what does this mean?”
“Don’t badger the man,” said Burton. “Can’t you see how badly he’s been handled? By God, until now I took them for halfway civilized men, but I can see they’ve no more notion of how to receive a prisoner properly than they know how to fight.”
She was still staring at Noel. He saw recognition dawn in her eyes and waited for her to betray him, but she did not. Pressing her fan to her lips, she sat down on the nearest chair. “I do not understand,” she said at last.
“Qualms, my dear?” asked Burton, rather unpleasantly. “It’s no good turning squeamish. You’ve been playing against me, but it’s caught up with you.”
“No, indeed I haven’t, Thomas!” she cried out. “I swear I—”
“Please, let’s not have a womanish scene,” he said with impatience. “I always liked your spirit my dear. Don’t lose it now.”
“I tell you I am not mistaken. I don’t care what you’ve been told. The conspirators have come here and are at the granary this instant. If you do not move quickly, you will lose them all.”
He snorted and looked away from her. Noel scowled at her, wishing she would shut up.
She rose to her feet and walked toward Burton. “How can I convince you? Have I lost your trust so completely just because of a visitor to my house? I—”
“Visitor?” he said, swinging around. “My God, woman, a known courier for—”
“I gave you his secret communique,” she said desperately and caught at Burton’s sleeve.
He shook her off. “And that is probably false too, for all I know.”
“I would not lie to you, Thomas. I would not betray you.”
“Wouldn’t you? Are you not an American? Was your father not one of Franklin’s friends?”
“I am loyal to the crown.” She was weeping now, tears streaking her lovely face. “Please, Thomas, don’t shout at me like this. Not in front of—”
“Why should we hide it from Nardek? He’s carried messages between us often enough to know how the land lies.”
She pressed her hands to her cheeks. “How cold you are. How hard.”
“You are a deceiving strumpet, flirting with me while your friends commit treason. Well, you’re not free of that taint, my dear. You’ll
go before a judge with the rest of them.”
“But I’ve been working for you!” she said.
“Then you are doubly contemptible,” he retorted. “Tell me this, Sally. Having betrayed your own friends as well as your father’s, do you expect me to believe you would not betray me also?”
“Oh!” she cried. “You make monstrous accusations. It is you who have deceived me, sir, from the very beginning.”
“I made you no promises, Sally.”
She looked up, her eyes dark with tears, and said nothing.
“Go back to your guests, my dear,” he continued in an airy voice. “I’ll join you presently when Nardek is settled here. After all, this ball is in my honor, and I shan’t be found lacking in my good manners to you and your company.”
“No,” she whispered.
“Ah, yes. Your mind is still quick for a woman’s, isn’t it? When the ball is over, I shall arrest you. Until then, try to enjoy yourself.”
She stood there, trying without success to brush away her tears. “I tell you I have been true. What I did would be despicable to some. I never cared, thinking I did it for you. But if you think me contemptible, then I—” Her voice broke and she had to swallow before she could carry on.
“Sir—” said Noel in a low voice, unable to see her so upset.
Burton shook his head. “No, my boy. I believe you rather than her. There is no secret meeting here. That we are sure of.”
Just as he finished speaking, a shot rang out. In the ballroom women screamed, and the music died on the wail of a wrong note. Noel jumped to his feet and hurried to the window.
“It came from outside,” said Burton, already striding toward the door. “Sergeant!”
He flung open the door and issued a stream of orders. Soldiers were already running through the darkness behind the house. A series of gunshots rang out, and there were more screams from the guests. A mad scramble took place as people rushed for safety.
“My God!” said Sally. “What is it?”
Turncoat Page 12
