Chapter 5 Curiosity Killed the Blackguard
Chapter Five
Curiosity Killed the Blackguard
When Benjamin awoke before dawn the next morning, he got dressed, wove his hair into a fresh queue, and then went down to fetch his horse. Since he hadn’t stayed at the White Fox Inn, as originally planned, he needed to get word to his primary contact as soon as possible.
Just as Benjamin approached the stables, he heard the swift rush of feet, then two strong hands seized his coat and wrenched him into the large structure. He cried out before slamming against the interior wall. A few horses nickered at the disturbance.
“Have ya lost your feckin’ mind?!” Amos snarled.
Overwhelmed by the ambush, Benjamin barely processed his friend’s words before taking note of the clean, freshly pressed military coat of bright red. “Have you?” he countered, indicating the British uniform. “The 17th Regiment of Foot isn’t so far away!”
“Aye, which is precisely why I ‘borrowed’ this ’ere get-up to help me pass through. In other words, I did this lil’ thing called plannin’ ahead—somethin’ you could learn from, I see.”
Irritated, Benjamin tried to pry himself loose, but to no avail. “An opportunity arose.”
“Ah, an opportunity, was it? How good o’ ya to share it with the rest of us!
” Amos growled. “Our couriers haven’t been able to find hide nor hair of ya in Lower Manhattan, so I had to do some diggin’.
An’ when I learned Charlotte Boyd’s fiancé had come callin’ from Philadelphia…
well, I hoped an’ prayed y’hadn’t done somethin’ stupid! ”
Benjamin winced, still attempting to loosen Amos’s grip. “I thought you were scoping Hempstead…”
“I was, y’bloody prat, but I had to come check on your addlepated arse! Jesus!”
Despite the peril of their situation, Benjamin grinned. “Who’s Jaysus?”
“Oi! Don’tcha start with me, y’snivelin’ shite! If you weren’t Danny’s lil’ brother, I’d lump ya right on the jobbernole!” Amos thumped his shoulder. “When I said to blend in, I didn’t mean get a whole new cover!”
“It wasn’t intentional!” Benjamin hissed. “Somehow, for some nonsensical reason, the Boyds believe me to be the eldest’s fiancé. They didn’t let me properly introduce myself!”
Amos gave a scornful hoot. “No offense there, lad, butcha ain’t exactly ‘man o’ the town’ material. How’dja pull that one off, uh?”
“It’s…still a matter to be seen,” Benjamin said. “They say Charlotte will return within a sennight, so I don’t have much time to acquire information. You’re going to need a new agent after I leave, but not around the Boyds. They’ll be high on the alert once the truth comes out.”
Amos released him with a huff. “Christ Almighty. Ain’t all that Yale-learnin’ supposed to help y’solve problems and not add to ’em?”
“Yes, well hopefully this will make up for it.” Reaching inside his coat pocket, Benjamin withdrew a thimble and placed it into the other man’s palm.
“In there, I’ve folded a small sliver of parchment.
It says: ‘Tampered supplies. Don’t accept.
’ I need you to get that to Bishop as soon as you’re able. ”
Amos’s brow furrowed. “Can y’gimme more than that? What’s the story behind it, uh?”
“A Tory named Michael Collins has enough tampered grain and flour to feed an army—specifically, a Continental encampment,” Benjamin explained, careful to keep his voice low.
“Inside each bag are bits of broken glass. From here on out, we shouldn’t accept supplies from anyone but trusted sources.
” He paused. “In the meantime, with the shipbuilding merchant alias I’ve crafted, I convinced Collins to get that grain and flour to my men in Philadelphia.
Can you send some of your privateering friends there for a drop-off? The ones onboard the Joanna?”
With a hearty laugh, Amos clapped Benjamin’s face between his chafed hands and gleefully shook the man’s head back and forth. “Moony, y’big, beautiful bastard! Perhaps there’s a Yale brain in there, after all!” Giddy, he pressed, “So where do they gotta go?”
“Inside the thimble, there’s another piece of paper with the address,” Benjamin replied, “and, I swindled these high-flyers out of fifteen pounds.” He withdrew a purse and tossed it into Amos’s hands.
“Get that to Bishop, as well. I figured with the extra funds, he could employ some new eyes and ears.”
Amos whooped, practically dancing amidst his glee. “Moony, I could kiss you…”
“Please don’t.”
Guffawing, he crowed, “C’mere, y’long shanks goosecap!” Drawing Benjamin into his arms, the cabinetmaker squeezed him tightly and gave the space between his shoulders a warm, friendly wallop. “Y’did good, lad, y’did good! Have y’reached out to your primary contact?”
Benjamin shook his head, encouraging Amos to withdraw. “I haven’t gotten to see Mr. Stewart yet, no. I was actually about to head out to his tavern and tell him I’m in the area.”
“Go this evening,” Amos advised. “Stewart’s pickin’ up a shipment, to me knowledge, so he ain’t there yet.
Besides, men’re more distracted and well in their cups by nightfall, so it’ll be safer.
” He lifted the thimble, then stuck it into his pocket.
“In the meantime, I’ll get this ’ere to one of our couriers.
That way, I can stick close by, jus’ in case y’need me. ”
Benjamin frowned. “But what about Hempstead?”
“Don’t you worry ’bout that,” Amos replied. “I’m not the only one there with a friendly leanin’. An’ I know Dan’d never forgive me, were I to jus’ leave his poor, hulver-headed lil’ brother here all by his lonesome. I can spare a week.”
Benjamin rolled his eyes, not wanting to admit he was comforted by having him around.
“Right. In the meantime, I’m hoping I can get into Boyd’s desk again.
In an unlocked drawer, I found a ledger filled with names—all Tories, and all accompanied by expenditures.
When the timing’s right, I’d like to actually acquire those names.
” He straightened his coat. “The locked drawer might lead to something far more important, but I’ll need to wait until closer to the end of the week, just in case my break-in is obvious. ”
“Use a bodice pin, if you can find one,” Amos suggested. “O’ course, that’d mean actually gettin’ near a lass, so y’might be outta luck there.”
“Arsehole,” Benjamin dismissed, though he was smiling. “The middle daughter’s a bit amenable to me…perhaps I can—”
“Oh-hoooo, no,” Amos cut in, waggling a finger. “I don’t think divin’ into a bushel bubby’s mutton is the best idea. Not when anyone in that house would delight in seein’ y’hang for treason.”
“Keep your voice down!” Benjamin hissed. Cheeks aflame, he amended, “Besides, I didn’t mean I’d seduce her, I just…I-I thought I would try and befriend her. And along the way, perhaps I can find her collection of pins.”
Amos’s face twisted in consideration. “Y’know, that ain’t too shabby. Give ’er a go. Or rather, give it a go. I really don’t think it wise to get all bread an’ butter fashion with one o’ your targets.”
“It’d be messy,” Benjamin agreed, still pink cheeked. “My thoughts are only on the cause.”
Despite Amos’s leer, he seemed pleased. “I’ll hafta change a few things, like gettin’ our couriers over this-a-way for drop-offs. They’ll either come by the front door, or leave notes in your horse’s saddlebag.”
Benjamin nodded. “Fine,” he replied, “good. But how will I know the couriers from a regular visitor?”
With a grin, Amos nudged him. “Well, first, they’ll request’cha by name—Ashby, o’ course—and at some point, they’ll say ‘the rhododendrons are bloomin’ nicely.’”
Benjamin snorted. “I’m shocked you can even say that word.”
“Oi! Me ma loved ’er flowers, an’ I made a point to mind me ma!” Amos drew back with a huff. “Well…” Chuckling, he held out his hand. “Here’s to outsmartin’ all these grout-headed gnatsnappers, eh? Godspeed, Moony.”
Benjamin sensed the underlying sentiment and smiled, offering the older man a warm handshake. “May God’s love favor us both.”
Clara had always been an early riser. Perhaps she enjoyed being awake when nobody else was. The liminal space between sleep and the day’s tasks kept her hidden away from chastisements, social responsibility, and each of her mother’s harsh, bitter criticisms.
Her handmaiden, Angélique, also rose early to tend to her needs.
Although they rarely spoke, Clara took comfort being around someone who didn’t expect her to be prim and perfect.
Four years her senior, Angélique had been her personal servant ever since she was eight.
Despite the tensions between Great Britain and France, the towheaded Frenchwoman never once spoke of war, and Clara was relieved Jedediah hadn’t grown paranoid and terminated her employment.
“Is this all right, mademoiselle?”
Barely processing her own reflection, the redhead forced a smile and nodded, lifting a hand to touch the side of her simple updo.
“Yes, this should be suitable. Thank you.” Smoothing her palms over her embroidered bodice, she observed the lilac robe à l’anglaise with a cream, patterned underskirt, and hummed before asking, “Might you fetch my sister from her chambers? I asked her lady’s maid to prepare her early, because I very much wish to speak with her. ”
“Of course, mademoiselle.”
In five minutes’ time, Angélique returned with a bleary-eyed, grumpy-faced Catherine in tow. It was clear that unlike her sister, the blonde very much did not enjoy being an early riser.
“Your sister, mademoiselle,” the servant said with a curtsy.
“Thank you, Angélique. That will be all.” Once the young woman curtsied again and made her leave, Clara eagerly stepped forward. “What did you think of the party last night, darling?”
Catherine shrugged, irritably grinding the sleep from her eyes. “This is why you demanded I rise so early? Clara, really…”
“Answer the question,” the redhead pleaded. “I’d much prefer to discuss this alone and without prying ears, lest Mother become all besotted.”