by Julia Tagan
Freddie cowered on the bed, pale with fright. The bedclothes were rumpled and he’d obviously made himself quite at home.
“Mr. Thomas,” stuttered Freddie. “Sir, I mean. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I figured I’d wait here until everyone came back.”
“And you thought it’d be a good idea to wait in Mr. Delcour’s bed?”
Freddie leapt off the bed and stood at attention.
“I was only trying to get some sleep.”
“How did you get in?”
“All of the windows were unlocked. Once I got in I locked them all up, in case anyone tried to break in.”
“You mean anyone else tried to break in.”
Freddie nodded sheepishly.
“Your cigarette.” Benjamin pointed toward the glowing remnant burning its way through the quilt.
“Sorry, sorry.”
“What is going on, are you all right?” Catherine rushed through the doorway, holding the lantern. “Freddie.”
“Yes, ma’am, at your service.”
“What on earth?”
“Apparently Freddie has been making himself comfortable while the house has been empty,” said Benjamin.
“So sorry, ma’am, I am.” The boy shook with fear. “I’ve been cleaning every day, you know, scrubbing off the smokiness from the walls. I’ve not been lolling about, you know.”
“You almost scared us to death,” scolded Catherine. “But that explains why the house didn’t smell as bad as I thought it would.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve been quite busy, you know.”
“Now Freddie, you shouldn’t have made yourself quite so much at home,” said Benjamin. “What if Mr. Delcour or Mrs. Daggett had come in and found you?”
“Yes sir, I understand. You won’t tell Mr. Delcour, will you? He’ll have me flogged.”
Freddie cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. Sophie tugged at Benjamin’s sleeve.
“You won’t tell on him, will you? He didn’t do anything harmful.” She gazed up at Benjamin with doleful eyes.
“No, I won’t,” he answered. “But we’ll need your help, Freddie. Can we count on you?”
“Of course, sir. I’ll do anything you ask.”
“Very good. First of all, no more smoking in the house, unless you plan on burning down the mansion for good this time. Go to the well and bring us up some fresh water. For now, you can stay in the servants’ quarters and we’ll speak in the morning.”
“Yes sir, thank you sir, and ma’am.”
Upstairs, Catherine and Sophie cleaned themselves up and settled into Catherine’s old bed. Benjamin retired to the room he’d been assigned when he’d first arrived. It’d been less than a week since he’d stayed here, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. He soon fell into a dreamless sleep.
* * * *
“Absolutely not.” Catherine spoke to Benjamin with what she hoped was a severe tone. “We’re going together.”
“But it doesn’t make sense,” he said. “When we get to town, I’ll get the wine, you get the ledger. It couldn’t be more simple.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m coming with you to the shop. Then we’ll go back to the townhouse and fetch the ledger.”
Catherine was tired of arguing. She’d slept fitfully most of the night, as the excitement of saving Sophie had been replaced by a dull dread of what was to come. She’d risen at first light and found Benjamin downstairs ready to go. They’d eyed each other warily and said little as the carriage made its way south on Bloomingdale Road. Until now.
“We’ll have a limited period of time.” Benjamin rubbed his face with one hand. From the circles under his eyes, he hadn’t gotten much sleep either. “The chances Carpenter will come after us once he discovers the Yquem missing are high. Why waste a moment when we don’t have to?”
Catherine didn’t say anything.
“I see. You don’t trust me with the Yquem. Do you really think I’d run off with it?”
“I have no idea what you would or would not do,” she said. Benjamin had been so distant lately she didn’t want to take any chances, particularly as the Yquem represented her only hope of getting out from under Morris’s thumb.
“It would be tempting, I have to admit, since you’re being so difficult.”
Catherine gave him a look.
“But I wouldn’t do that to Sophie,” he continued.
“Stealing the bottle was my idea in the first place. I want to be there. That’s all.”
“Fine. And how do you expect us to get into his office? Mrs. Daggett will have already warned him we never returned home from the ball. He’ll be suspicious when we suddenly reappear. It would be much easier if it’s only me.”
“And what would you tell him?”
“I’d say I ran after you, but you got away and I returned as soon as I could.” He was quiet for a moment. “And you’d be safe.”
“I have an idea.” She turned to him.
“And what is that?”
“You bring me back as your prisoner. I tried to make a run for it but you caught me and are presenting me to Mr. Carpenter to find out what should be done.”
Benjamin shook his head. “It’s too risky. I don’t know what he’d do to you.”
She studied his face. He wasn’t lying. For a moment her heart softened. Maybe his feelings for her matched her own. But she pushed those thoughts aside. “It’s your only choice. I’m not leaving you until we have that bottle of wine and the ledger in our possession.”
“Fine. But you’ll have to keep quiet and let me do all of the talking. Do you understand?”
She nodded. “Of course. Don’t I always?”
The Delcour & Carpenter Wine Shop was bustling with customers when they arrived. A new shipment had arrived and the office clerks were busy taking inventory.
Benjamin inquired after Carpenter and was directed up the stairs to the offices. Catherine started when he grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her along after him, and several of the clerks stopped what they were doing and regarded them curiously.
Catherine was nervous, but she hoped her jumpiness would help convince Carpenter of their ruse. If they didn’t find the Yquem and Carpenter insisted on taking control of her, she’d be in serious trouble.
Benjamin knocked on Carpenter’s office door and entered. Carpenter was seated behind his desk and didn’t bother looking up.
“I told you I was not to be disturbed,” he said.
“Mr. Carpenter.”
Carpenter’s jaw dropped in surprise. He rose. “Mr. Thomas?” He eyed them both up and down. “And Mrs. Delcour. I heard from Mr. Delcour’s housekeeper you were nowhere to be found the day after the ball. I’ve already sent notice to my partner he should return immediately and get his personal affairs in order.”
“Mr. Carpenter,” Benjamin repeated. “Mrs. Delcour tried to escape after the ball. I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours tracking her, and I’m pleased to say I succeeded in bringing her back.”
“And where were you off to in such a hurry, Mrs. Delcour?” Carpenter came around his desk and stood in front of her. “You are keeping Mr. Thomas far too busy. Perhaps I should keep an eye on you until your husband returns.”
“There’s no need,” said Benjamin. “I won’t let her out of my sight again. I wanted to make sure you were updated on the situation right away. I’ll have Mrs. Daggett lock her in her room until Mr. Delcour returns.”
“I suppose that’s best,” said Mr. Carpenter. “And you can be trusted?”
“Of course. Mr. Delcour is family to me.”
“I was made to understand that. I’m glad your priorities are straight. Unlike this one here.” Carpenter gestured to Catherine.
“Of course, Mr. Carpenter.”
As the men talked, Catherine scanned the room for the Yquem. A large cabinet in the corner of the room held a number of bottles behind a glass case. One had a familiar white label with large, cursive gold lettering that Catherine rec
ognized. Theodosia was right. The bottle was here.
She gave Benjamin a short nod. He turned to Carpenter. “May we speak privately for a moment, sir?” he asked, motioning Carpenter outside. “It will only take moment.”
Carpenter gave Catherine a look. “Please take a seat, Mrs. Delcour.”
She sat in one of the chairs opposite the desk. Carpenter didn’t close the door all the way, and she could hear Benjamin speaking in hushed tones. Catherine dashed over to the cabinet, opened it and tucked the Yquem into the inside pocket of her cloak. She rearranged the bottles so it was less obvious one was missing and closed the cabinet door. She had barely sat back down when the two men re-entered.
Carpenter appeared quite pleased. “Very good then, I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Of course, sir.”
After what seemed like an hour, but was only a couple of minutes, Benjamin and Catherine were safely outside.
“Did you get it?”
She smiled up at him and patted her cloak. “Yes. What did you say to Carpenter that made him so happy?”
“You don’t want to know. Let’s get out of here. We don’t have much time.”
“Tell me. What’s happening this afternoon?”
“He’s coming over to spend some time with you.”
“Good Lord!”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be long gone by then. It was the only way to redirect him. He’s convinced everyone in town has been privy to your attentions, and his turn is next.”
“No wonder, after he saw you taking advantage of me at the ball.”
“That certainly didn’t help matters.”
Part of Catherine wanted to tell him she wasn’t like that, that the “friend” she was running to was fictional, but another part of her was fed up with having to justify her actions. She’d been misjudged for so long by so many people, what did one more matter?
Catherine pulled her cloak tight. She had the Yquem, she had her sister and soon she would start her life anew.
* * * *
On the way to the townhouse, Benjamin explained to Catherine what he thought they should do next. To his surprise, she said, “Very well,” and nothing more. She was quiet and contained, and even though he moved at a quick clip, she matched his stride.
When they reached the street where Delcour’s townhouse was located, Catherine waited at the corner.
“I’ll need five minutes,” he said. “If I don’t reappear by then, you should make your way inside. That means it’s safe.”
She nodded and off he went.
The door of the townhouse was more imposing than Benjamin remembered it, with a large brass knocker. He banged it hard and stood back. Mrs. Daggett’s pointed face appeared through the small window to the right of the door. She was surprised, but she opened the door for him.
“Why Mr. Thomas, where on earth have you been?” She glared at him. “I’ve sent word to Mr. Delcour you’d left with Mrs. Delcour, and he’s on his way back. You’ll need to do some explaining when he returns, I must say. I’m quite surprised to see you. I have half a mind to call Mr. Carpenter at once.”
When she paused to take a breath, Benjamin gave her his most innocent, wide-eyed look. “She ran away. Again. I tried to stop her. I went after her, but it was no good.”
“Is that so?” Mrs. Daggett’s face was interested, but wary.
“Yes. I believe she’s headed to Red Bank.”
“She went to New Jersey?”
“Yes. I don’t know why. Does she have family there?”
Mrs. Daggett gave it some thought, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t think so. How do I know this is the truth?”
“We both know Catherine’s nature,” he said. “She tricked me, as she tricked Delcour.”
“Tricked you?” Now she was quite interested.
Benjamin went on, half hating himself, but saying the words felt good, like a release. “I was taken in by her, I admit it. She’s persuasive, and even though Mr. Delcour had given me every warning, I was a fool.”
“Come in, my boy.” Mrs. Daggett’s voice softened slightly and she gestured for him to come inside. “I’ll make you a cup of tea and you can tell me all about it.”
He entered, leaving the door ajar, and followed the narrow shoulders and ample behind of Mrs. Daggett to the kitchen. The woman was probably desperate to tell the rest of New York about her mistress’s exploits, and now she had a first-hand account at her fingertips. It was everything she had dreamed for.
In the kitchen, Benjamin took a seat at the small table next to the open window, where three partly burnt pies cooled on the sill. He couldn’t help but remember the last time he was here, when he and Catherine had made dinner together and she had spoken so honestly about her life.
“So she’s off with another man, you believe?” asked Mrs. Daggett.
“I was sorely treated.” He tried to look as crestfallen as possible. “I thought she loved me, but she was only using me to get what she wanted. Once she had that, she was ready to move on to the next man who could help her.”
Benjamin wove a bitter story, embellishing it for Mrs. Daggett’s entertainment. He found, after an initial awkwardness, his tale of woe was surprisingly convincing. He didn’t have to pretend, as his anger and bitterness were real, and Mrs. Daggett listened to every word with baited breath.
When he finished, she gave him a satisfied smile. “You couldn’t have known, dear boy. I kept telling Mr. Delcour to watch out, I warned him, but he wouldn’t listen. The woman’s a witch. She bewitched you.”
Benjamin glanced at the clock on the wall. “I should go. I have to face Mr. Delcour. I’m going to collect my things and wait for him at his offices.”
“I think that’s a good plan.” Mrs. Daggett offered him a biscuit from the tin she’d put out on the table. He reached in and took the smallest one and, with Mrs. Daggett watching closely, took a small bite. As expected, it was dry and tasted of sawdust.
“Mmm, lovely,” he muttered.
A solid bang stopped him mid-chew. They both glanced up at the ceiling, as if the source of the sound might materialize through the floorboards.
“What was that?” asked Mrs. Daggett.
“Perhaps one of the maids dropped something?”
“The maids are out at the market and no one else is in the house.” She paused. “What’s going on, Mr. Thomas?”
“Let me go and investigate.” Benjamin headed toward the front hallway. “You stay here, it might be dangerous.”
“Oh no you don’t. I’m coming with you. There’s someone else in this house.”
They went up two flights of stairs, Benjamin bounding as quickly as he could with Mrs. Daggett close on his heels.
“It came from here.” She pushed past him toward the study.
“No, it was more from the front of the house, closer to the street,” he responded.
Mrs. Daggett froze, her hand on the doorknob to the study. “If you’re up to no good, Mr. Thomas, there’ll be trouble.” She opened the door.
The study was empty. In the middle of the rug a large book was lying open, and Benjamin could see a hollow had been made in the pages, large enough to hide a notebook or ledger. Catherine had fumbled in her haste.
“There is something between you and that girl,” said Mrs. Daggett. “You brought me downstairs so I wouldn’t notice her creeping in.”
“You’re right.”
It was Catherine. She came out from behind a damask curtain at the far end of the room. She clutched a satchel, and her eyes were focused on Mrs. Daggett.
“You can do what you like, Mrs. Daggett,” she said. “Tell Mr. Carpenter, tell my husband what I’ve done. By the time you reach them, we will be long gone.”
“You!” said Mrs. Daggett. “Mr. Delcour will beat you for this. You’ve brought ruin to him. And you.” She turned to Benjamin. “You’ve fallen for her, I see. When will you men learn a girl like this is not to be trusted? She’ll destroy you as she di
d Mr. Delcour.”
“You have it wrong.” Catherine moved steadily forward. “It was Mr. Delcour who destroyed me. And now he’ll be getting what he deserves.”
With that, Catherine ran out of the room. Benjamin followed, and Mrs. Daggett, once she’d recovered, began screaming at the top of her lungs.
When they got outside, Catherine pointed down a side street. “We can take a pair of horses from Mr. Delcour’s stables.”
At the mews, she charmed the stable boy and was rewarded with a pair of horses. In no time they were tacked up and heading north as fast as they could go. Once they were in the country, Catherine brought her horse to a walk. “I can’t gallop the whole way. I need a moment.”
Benjamin scanned the road behind them and pulled up beside her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “The book dropped from the desk. I was clumsy.”
“Yes, you were. Now we’re both in serious trouble.”
“I know. I should’ve been more careful.”
Nothing she could say would placate him. Benjamin’s stomach churned and he wanted to scream. Something about telling Mrs. Daggett his story had set off a fire in him. “You should’ve been more careful, long before today.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Delcour, Bonneville. You seem to be leaving a line of unhappy men in your wake.”
“How can you say that?”
“You got what you wanted, you have your sister,” he said. “And now you’re on to the next man who can give you a helping hand. Or perhaps you don’t have to bother anymore, now you have your precious bottle of wine.”
She stopped her horse. His horse stopped, too, even though he pressed his legs to move it forward.
Her face was ashen. “You have what you wanted. You’ll be able to send Mr. Delcour to jail. Isn’t that what you’ve been after this entire time?”
He couldn’t respond. Before, all he wanted was to see the look on Delcour’s face as he was hauled off to prison. But now, faced with the proposition of losing Catherine, it seemed like an empty victory. He thought of his sister, and what she’d think of his behavior the past few days.
“My sister was miserable living with Delcour. He started playing around with other women almost as soon as they were married. Perhaps a man like that deserves a woman like you.”
