“ I thought you had gone to find Clark and turn me in,” said Jake when Marie returned to the room.
“ Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve brought some whiskey. You always liked it.”
“ I still do.”
She made a face, setting down the flagon in front of him. “French wine is better,” she said before sipping from her own glass of run. “But it has been so long since I’ve had some here. All we seem able to get these days is Portuguese rot.”
“ Your grapes?”
“ Last year’s crop was burned on the vine.”
“ Maybe this year’s?”
“ Yes. It seems more auspicious.”
She settled into the wooden chair across from him, pulling it forward and hooking her bare feet on the front rungs, her toes tickling the cross spindle. Her easy rock back and forth in the chair seemed gently seductive.
“ Tell me about Burgoyne’s army,” he said.
“ I don’t know much. It’s obvious that an invasion is planned soon. There were rumors of an attempt this past winter, but apparently the lakes were not sufficiently frozen. At least that was the excuse. It was a mild winter, I’ll admit. The snow left in March, but much of the river was still frozen until a few weeks ago. So perhaps they were just scared.
“ How many troops have come to Montreal?”
“ You’re the spy, not me. All I can tell you is that they are as rude as any soldiers I’ve met. A whole troop of the devils were caught last month stealing the hair from cows’ tails; apparently they fix them to their caps as an insignia. There was a huge row over it. Do you remember Pierre Jacques? Well, they were his cows and he took offense. He went after the soldiers — twenty of them, mind you — and speared on with his pitchfork. They brought him up on charges and were going to hang him before I intervened.
“ You?”
“ I went to Carelton himself.
“ How is my friend the governor?”
She shrugged. Marie had always had a decent opinion of Carleton, and as a large landowner, had stayed on good terms. He did not suspect her connection with Jake.
There is a large troop at Boucherville,” she continued. “They would be the advance guard of any invasion. I know this because I went with Tom on a visit there.”
“ Tom, is it?”
“ There are rumors of boats being built. Many trees have been taken from the forest.”
“ I saw some of the work on the way here,” said Jake. “The invasion must be planned very soon. Does Tome talk about it?”
Marie ignored the sarcastic accent her interrogator put on the British captain’s first name. “He’s very careful about what he says, even with me. But everyone knows General Burgoyne will replace the governor, and that he is to attack quickly. Tom is hoping to be transferred to the general’s command once Carleton resigns, which may be any day.”
In Jake’s view — perhaps prejudiced since he knew Burgoyne only by rumor — Carleton was a much better commander and governor; his resignation was a break for the Americans. But perhaps it had come too late.
“ General Burgoyne is quite a man of learning,” remarked Marie. “They say he writes poetry and plays.”
“ I’ve heard he was a better poet than a general.”
“ If that is so, why did your army retreat to Ticonderoga?”
Jake had no answer for that. Burgoyne’s reputation in Boston had been that of a dilettante whose major military achievement was staying behind the lines while others took a beating. But the facts were these: He was now in Canada and the Americans were not.
“ Carleton met Burgoyne in Quebec a few days ago,” Marie continued. “The ball Tom mentioned is in honor of the general’s arrival here tomorrow. The governor may be angry, but he keeps to the proper forms.”
“ One thing I always admired about him. I’ll compliment him on it tomorrow night if we meet.”
“ You can’t be serious about going to the ball.”
“ I wouldn’t miss it,” said Jake. He was indeed serious — it would give him a chance to chat with every field officer in Burgoyne’s army. It would be an easy matter to obtain the invasion plans, at least in outline. With time running out on the Americans, Jake couldn’t afford to spend several days scouting troops or planning a break-in at the British headquarters. He had to get back to Schuyler as quickly as possible — time was even shorter than Flanagan suspected.
“ I’ll have to buy a new suit of clothes and some face plasters. Since your good Captain Clark has already seen me, I don’t want to arouse his suspicions with a different disguise,” said Jake. “Perhaps you can help me pick out something dashing.”
“ But Jake, if Carleton sees you, he will certainly recognize you.”
“ I’ll just have to take care that he doesn’t, won’t I?”
Chapter Nine
For an eighteenth-century man, Jake was rather eccentric about bathing. He tried to take a bath twice a week if possible, and occasionally more, even in the winter. This flew in the face of scientific thought, and was one of the few areas where Jake, who had made a strenuous study of the philosophic arts and endeavored to live by their principles, strayed from the reasoned path. He simply loved to bathe, and despite the weight of the mission head, rose early the next morning and headed out to the stream behind the house to indulge himself.
Marie’s homemade soap was strong, pricking at his skin. The early spring air was quite cool yet, no more than forty degrees. Still, Jake let himself collapse back on a rock in the middle of a small pool of rushing water, watching as one of Marie’s dogs chased after a pair of ducks by the stream bed.
His thoughts soon returned to matters of more significance. With the cover story of a physician already established, he could sound out the British soldiers at the ball about joining the expedition. Details of the coming attack would flow from their mouths like the silky water around him.
As long as they didn’t remember him. Jake knew that the British Army had been greatly reinforced since his last sojourn, and that most of the old guard had been transferred, but there was at least one man guaranteed to know who he was — Carleton.
Even with his hair freshly curled and as many plasters on his face as fashion allowed, it wouldn’t be easy to fool the governor. But a more complete disguise would mean he couldn’t go as Marie’s cousin. Even if he found another way in, he’d be deprived of Captain Clark’s very useful entree.
All in all, his best course was simply to avoid Carleton. It shouldn’t be too difficult if the gathering was large. Undoubtedly the governor would be preoccupied, and besides, the last person he’d expect to see in Montreal again was his long-lost secretary.
Jake turned his concerns to his rusty dance steps as he walked back up the path to the house, trying to remember whether at beat six or eight that one dipped his knees in the minuet.
He had settled pretty firmly on six by the time he sat down to breakfast. He was mildly surprised and not a little pleased that the servant girl had cooked a full plate of wheat cakes for him on Marie’s instructions. A pile of dried berries topped the place and some fresh sausage held down the side; it was easily the best breakfast Jake had had in weeks.
“ Perhaps after breakfast, you can give me a shave,” said Jake as the girl returned to the fire.
“ We’ll have the barber do that in town, if you don’t mind,” said Marie, entering the room behind him.
Jake thought he detected a slight tone of jealousy in her voice. If so, he dispelled it with a slightly more than cousinly kiss on her cheek, then sat back down to work on his cakes.