Masque of Betrayal

by Andrea Kane

  Dane studied her bent head silently for long moments, wrestling with his options. At last, he gave a resigned sigh. “I should have known your mind would not be so easily conquered as your body, my unwavering wife,” he said, feigning ignorance in order to spare Jacqui the distress of examining what was in her heart. “Have you resumed pondering the affairs of the world?”

  The new subject was infinitely safer than the one Jacqui had actually been grappling with. “I’m concerned about America’s future … yes,” she answered, relieved to be on sure ground.

  “As am I.” Once again, Dane considered pursuing Jacqui’s true worry, then thought better of it. That particular conversation was one Jacqui would have to initiate herself, and evidently she just wasn’t ready to deal with her feelings for him. So be it … for now.

  Dane pressed a kiss to her forehead, then settled her against him. “All right, my lovely scholar. Let’s continue our discussion.”

  “Beginning with Laffey.” Jacqui propped herself on one elbow, crisply efficient as she looked into her husband’s face.

  Dane grinned at the delicious contrast between Jacqui’s businesslike demeanor and her exquisite, intimate state of undress. “All right. Beginning with Laffey.” He folded his arms behind his head.

  “I plan to continue writing my columns.”

  “Agreed … with one condition.” Dane ignored Jacqui’s belligerent scowl. “I want you to show me your articles before you turn them over to Bache.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can be prepared for the ramifications.” Dane’s reply was equally as curt. He reached out, threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping her head tenderly. “Jacqueline, I will never deny you your independence … don’t deny me the right to protect you. You’re my wife … and I care about you … deeply.”

  Jacqui’s throat constricted, autonomy warring with sentiment. “You won’t attempt to influence what I write?”

  “No.”

  She nodded. “I believe you. And I accept your condition.”

  Dane felt a surge of elation, not at the minor victory he’d won over Laffey, but at the three little words Jacqui had just uttered. I believe you, she’d said. Belief was the first step toward trust.

  “I understand your concern over my columns, especially the controversial ones dealing with the whiskey tax,” Jacqui was continuing. “However, I don’t understand what information you believed I had in my possession that could possibly interest the English.”

  Dane continued to absently caress her nape. “I trust you, Jacqueline,” he said with slow deliberation, his gaze fixed on hers, “so I will tell you what has occurred, and why I believe there is a traitor in our midst.”

  Quietly and without embellishment, Dane told Jacqui about the documents that had mysteriously disappeared, then reappeared in Hamilton’s office just prior to John Jay’s departure for England; about the faltering negotiations still taking place between Jay and Grenville; and about Grenville’s prior knowledge of each of America’s preset conditions.

  “Your weekly nocturnal excursions and blatant pro-French philosophy made Alexander suspicious,” Dane admitted. “He assumed you were acting on behalf of your father. We already suspected George was Jack Laffey, since he had the most uncanny ability to appear at events attended by important politicians who, later that week, would be quoted in Laffey’s column. Then, the day after the papers were stolen from Alexander’s office, your father made a most uncharacteristic request.” Dane went on to explain George’s unusual and urgent need to send a shipment to the mainland. “So you see,” Dane concluded candidly, “the evidence, though circumstantial, seemed pretty damning. Your father appeared to be not only Jack Laffey but an American traitor. And you, it seemed likely, were his accomplice.”

  “I see.” Jacqui considered Dane’s explanation carefully and objectively. Hamilton’s suspicions had certainly been founded … founded but flawed. It was up to her to identify the defects and clear her family name by discovering the true felon. “Obviously, Secretary Hamilton’s theory is correct,” she acknowledged, her fine brows drawn contemplatively. “Information is being supplied to the English. I presume you believe this is being done in order to draw us into war with them?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Then the remaining question is, Why? Is our traitor propelled by a desire for English supremacy or is he concerned with forging America’s ties with France? The latter goal is no longer a certainty, since we’ve determined that my father and I are not the guilty parties.”

  Dane’s hand stilled. “Your brilliance never ceases to amaze me, chaton,” he murmured, his voice laced with pride. “I salute your keen perception … you are quite right.”

  Laying her hand on Dane’s chest, Jacqui propped her chin upon it. “Give me some time to think,” she said matter-of-factly. “After which, I’ll determine the most effective way to unearth the culprit and his motive.”

  Dane nearly catapulted them both off the bed. “You’ll do what?” he bellowed.

  Jacqui blinked up at him in astonishment. “I said that I’ll—”

  “I heard what you said.” Dane seized her shoulders, glaring at her with blazing silver eyes. “And the answer is no! No, you will not determine the plan we will enact to catch the offender, and no, you will not take part in that plan once we determine it!” He shook her gently. “Don’t even consider it, Jacqueline … not for a minute. I want you to stay the hell out of this. Do you understand?”

  Jacqui raised her chin defiantly.

  “Jacqueline … I’m warning you,” Dane said in a chilling tone that brought to Jacqui’s mind her father’s words about Dane’s overwhelming, carefully leashed power. “I’ll tie you up if I must, keep you under lock and key, but I will not allow you to endanger yourself. Is that clear?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Jacqueline!” There was no arguing with that.

  “All right … yes,” Jacqui replied reluctantly.

  “Damn … you drive me crazy.” He jerked the quilt out from under them, yanking it over their naked bodies. “Enough talking. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. … The only sleep I got last night was when I passed out in a drunken stupor.” He settled himself in the bed, then pulled her to him, tucking her head beneath his chin.

  “Dane, it’s the middle of the day. We have to—”

  “Go to sleep, Jacqueline.” He tightened his grip around her waist, muttering, “You bloody impossible, unyielding woman.” He closed his eyes, his final words muffled by her fragrant cloud of hair, slurred by his fatigue. “Lord only knows why I love you.”

  Jacqui was certain she’d never been so arrogantly chastised.

  Nor so arrogantly pleased.

  CHAPTER

  17

  I CANNOT BELIEVE I’M hearing this!”

  Rarely was the Secretary of the Treasury at a loss for words. He was now. Pacing the length of his office, he came to an abrupt halt before his desk, slamming his hands on the walnut surface until it vibrated from the impact. “Dane, have you taken complete leave of your senses?”

  Dane stood stiffly. “My senses are quite intact, Alexander. I simply will not forbid my wife from writing her columns. … They mean far too much to her.”

  “What about what they mean to America?”

  “I made Jacqueline aware of the inflammatory nature of certain political issues. I trust her to temper her articles accordingly … but without compromising her standards.”

  Hamilton exhaled sharply. “You trust her? After all her deception, you can still use that word?”

  “I can.”

  Their gazes locked.

  “I could make certain of Laffey’s demise by revealing his identity,” Hamilton said quietly.

  “You could. But you won’t. And if you tried, I would do everything in my power to thwart you.” Dane’s reply was equally quiet.

  “You believe in her that much?”

  “I love her that much.”

/>   Hamilton shook his head slowly. “I don’t understand a love that makes a man weak.”

  “Not weak, Alexander. Whole. And not blind either. I know my wife’s flaws; Lord knows I’ve been subjected to them often enough. But I also know her virtues. She is forthright, principled, and unquestionably loyal to her country.”

  “And to you?”

  Dane’s lips curved into a smile. “And to me. Fight it though she will.”

  Hamilton fell into a thoughtful silence. Finally he said, “We’ve known each other a long time now, Dane.”

  “More than seven years,” Dane agreed.

  “When I first met you I had only just arrived from New York to attend the Continental Congress. I had grown disheartened, for it seemed I stood alone in my convictions. Many called me monarchical, when in truth I was merely being practical.” He smiled faintly, remembering. “You approached me at the City Tavern to offer your support.”

  “I was impressed by your candid and vocal advocation of a strong national government. I concurred completely … then and now.”

  “There were many who did not trust my judgment. Many who still don’t.”

  “You should know by now that I am not influenced by ‘many.’ I am very much my own person.”

  “As am I.” Hamilton raised his head, his keen blue eyes clear, decisive. “If you believe so strongly in your Jacqueline, then so be it. I will not interfere … unless,” he quickly amended, “she gives me reason to.”

  Dane approached the desk, extended his hand. “You have my thanks.”

  Hamilton shook it. “And you have my sympathy.” His lips twitched. “Your bride’s redeeming qualities must be splendid indeed.”

  Dane grinned broadly. “They are. And with your permission, I’m off to Westbrooke Shipping so I can return home quickly to sample those redeeming qualities.”

  Hamilton watched Dane go, wondering at the powerful emotion that, drove his friend. He did not envy Dane’s predicament, nor could he imagine marriage to so hotheaded and rebellious a woman.

  Still, Alexander trusted Dane’s instincts. Therefore, he accepted Dane’s unequivocal conviction that Jacqueline was innocent of treason and that her motives for writing Laffey’s column were honorable. Yet it worried Hamilton for Dane’s wife to possess so much power. Her column had a significant impact on the masses. ’Twas a pity that the column couldn’t be directed toward a more …

  An idea exploded in Hamilton’s mind with all the brilliance of a lightning bolt. Why hadn’t he thought of it earlier?

  Fairly crackling with energy, the Secretary eased into his chair, took up his quill, and began to pen a message.

  “You wished to see me, Mr. Secretary?”

  Jacqui stood in the open doorway, awaiting permission to enter. For long hours after receiving Hamilton’s note, she had debated whether or not to comply with his urgent but mysterious request to see her. In the end, her curiosity had won out.

  Hamilton pushed back his chair and rose. “Mrs. Westbrooke.” He walked toward her with polished grace. “How kind of you to answer my summons so quickly.” His tone was smooth, but his blue eyes danced with knowing humor. It had been four hours since his messenger had left with the note.

  “I didn’t intend to come,” Jacqui asserted, her small jaw set.

  “Really?” He took her hand, pressed a brief, chaste kiss to her knuckles. “Then I’m delighted you reconsidered.”

  “What is this all about, Mr. Secretary?” Jacqui withdrew her hand, fingering the. folds of her lime muslin gown impatiently, her gaze fixed on Hamilton’s. “Your note said it concerned national security. Since I know you and Dane have spoken, I assume my being here pertains to that conversation.”

  Hamilton rubbed his chin thoughtfully, studying Dane’s beautiful, spirited wife. Forthright, Dane had said. Well, she was certainly that. “Yes, Mrs. Westbrooke, I have spoken with Dane. And yes, that is why I’ve asked to see you.”

  “Then things stand as such: you know I am Laffey and I know you despise Laffey.” She paused, her hands knotting in the soft fabric. “In all due respect, sir, if you’ve summoned me to demand that I cease writing my column, you are wasting your time.”

  With a faint smile Hamilton gestured toward the chair. “Won’t you have a seat?”

  Jacqui gave him a wary look, then complied. Hamilton walked behind his desk and did the same. Steepling his fingers, he rested his chin upon them and leveled his gaze at Jacqui.

  “You have been quite frank with me. I shall be the same. True, I know you are Jack Laffey, although I must admit I had trouble believing it at first. However, speaking with you now, I find my skepticism rapidly fading. But no, I did not summon you here to command you to stop writing Laffey’s column. Quite the contrary, in fact. I want you to write the most controversial, jarring column you’ve ever composed in your life … or Laffey’s.”

  Jacqui blinked. “I don’t understand.”

  Hamilton leaned forward. “Mrs. Westbrooke … Jacqueline … may I call you Jacqueline?” When Jacqui nodded, he continued, “I don’t know how much Dane has told you of our suspicions.”

  “You believe there is an American traitor furnishing the English with information,” Jacqui supplied for him. “From the evidence Dane mentioned, I agree with your assessment. However, neither my father nor myself is the criminal you seek.”

  Hamilton held up his hand. “I’m not accusing you, my dear.”

  “Really? What changed your mind?”

  Jacqui’s sarcasm elicited a dry chuckle. “Dane did.” Hamilton couldn’t help but admire Jacqueline’s spunk. “Your husband and I have been friends for a long time, Jacqueline. He possesses the finest instincts I’ve ever seen.”

  “I agree.”

  “Dane is convinced, beyond any doubt, that you are innocent.”

  “His word is enough for you?”

  Again, a hint of a smile. “Not entirely. I do trust one person’s instincts more than I do Dane’s.”

  “Whose are those?”

  “My own.” His lips curved into a full grin. “And after this brief meeting of ours, I must admit that my instincts are in complete accord with Dane’s.”

  Jacqui’s mouth dropped open. “Oh … I see.”

  “Have I rendered you speechless?”

  It was Jacqui’s turn to smile. “No, Mr. Secretary. Even Dane has yet to do that.” Seeing the knowing lift of Hamilton’s brows, she blushed, lowering her gaze for the first time.

  Curiously touched by the unexpected show of modesty, Alexander had a sudden glimpse of why Dane was so smitten with his young bride. Jacqueline was an intriguing combination of brazenness and innocence, of fire and femininity … an irresistible challenge to any man … especially a compelling man like Dane.

  Calling upon his own gift of charm, Hamilton went on, determined to put Jacqueline at ease. “To continue with my reasons for requesting this visit,” he said, coming to his feet and walking around his desk. “I shall be direct. I need your assistance, Jacqueline.”

  “My assistance?”

  “Or, to be more accurate, Jack Laffey’s assistance.”

  Jacqui’s eyes widened with interest. “What manner of assistance do you require?”

  Conspiratorially, Hamilton leaned forward. “I want you to help expose our traitor.”

  “I? How?”

  “If Dane and I are correct, our culprit stole certain documents from my office … documents containing America’s position for Jay’s negotiations with the English. If Grenville saw those papers prior to Jay’s arrival, America’s position has been severely compromised.”

  “I understand.”

  Hamilton cleared his throat. “But what if our traitor were to learn we are now drafting an entirely new set of negotiating points, drawing up a wholly revised document which, in a matter of a fortnight, will be covertly sent to Jay in England?”

  Jacqui frowned. “But if such were the case, you would keep that information secret.”

 
; “Yes, we would. But isn’t it uncanny the way Jack Laffey seems to uncover even the most closely guarded secrets in our government?”

  Jacqui absorbed this statement silently. “I’m beginning to understand,” she said slowly. “There is no new document being prepared, is there?”

  “No, there isn’t.”

  Jacqui inhaled sharply. “So what you want is for me to write a column comprised of false information in the hopes it will trigger some kind of action by the guilty person?”

  “Exactly. You can suggest that I am penning crucial papers for Jay and that no one, other than myself, knows their contents.”

  “A statement such as that would put you in grave danger,” Jacqui pointed out.

  “Perhaps.” Hamilton shrugged. “But if it meant apprehending the traitor, it would be well worth the risk.”

  “I would be lying to my readers,” Jacqui murmured aloud.

  “But to what end? To protect your country, Jacqueline. Is that not worth the price?”

  She met his eyes, saw the patriotic fire burning there, a mirror reflection of Dane’s … and of her own. Maybe they were not so very different from each other after all, she mused. Maybe, although their means were different, their goals were much the same.

  “Jacqueline? Your answer?”

  “Yes.” She committed herself without hesitation or regret. “Yes, Mr. Secretary, I’ll do it.”

  “No!” Dane stormed back and forth across the bedchamber, shaking his head vehemently. “No, you will not do it!”

  Jacqui gave him an exasperated look and dipped her quill in the inkstand. “I most definitely will do it.” She returned to her writing.

  “Jacqueline …” He crossed over to her in three strides and yanked her to her feet. “Do you have any idea how dangerous this could be? What if the traitor you seek should learn you are Jack Laffey and assume you are in possession of the information you allude to in your column … then what?” Dane shook her, his mind racing with sinister possibilities. “What the hell could Alexander have been thinking of?”

  “Our country.” Jacqui disengaged herself from Dane’s grasp and attempted to reason with him. “Dane, I must do this … don’t you understand? Not only for America, but for my father. Until we’ve learned the identity of the real traitor, there will always be a shadow cast on my family name.”