“So what do you propose?” asked Duer, obviously exerting some effort to sound easy and natural. He did not wish to have Pearson explode before him as well.
“I’ll tend to Saunders,” said Pearson. “As it happens, I observed him not two weeks ago leaving a low sort of place with the wife of an acquaintance of mine. A word whispered in his ear will encourage this man, Dorland, to remove Saunders for us. Once he is fled or otherwise gone, Hamilton will have no spy at his command. If he learns what we plan, it will only be when it is too late.”
In truth, I did not consider this matter as important as Pearson seemed to. Whatever his experience had been with Saunders, it had evidently been unpleasant in the extreme, so if he wished to remove this potential asset to Hamilton, I would not object.
Once I was done speaking to the gentlemen, I went upstairs and found Mrs. Pearson in the sitting room. She was upon the sofa, reading from Pilgrim’s Progress to the children, who sat listening in rapt fascination. The fire reflected against her pale skin, and she seemed almost to glow.
Upon seeing me, she closed the book. “That’s enough for now, children. I would like a word with Mrs. Maycott.”
I expected groans and complaints, however halfhearted, for it is a time-honored tradition that children protest when story time ends. These children, however, unfolded themselves from the floor and quietly left the room. They were afraid and overdisciplined, and I knew it was not Mrs. Pearson’s hand that had rendered them so.
Once we were alone together, Mrs. Pearson rose and shut the door to the sitting room. She poured us wine and then sat near me on the sofa, that she might speak in low tones.
“I hope you will not be angry if I tell you I overheard some of what you spoke of with the gentlemen.”
“Of course not,” I said.
She, however, was not quite ready to begin. “I envy you, the way you move among them as an equal. You are so beautiful, and yet they don’t treat you as though you were a plaything. How do you gain their respect?”
“I gain it by demanding it,” I said.
She turned away. “I cannot demand respect from Mr. Pearson.”
“I know,” I said quietly. “I know what things are like here, Cynthia. Don’t think I haven’t seen it. And-and I mean to help you.”
She looked at me with great intensity, and I could not tell if it was surprise or hope. “Help me how?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know yet. I don’t know, but I will help you, Cynthia. You have my word. When this is over, you shall be the better for it.”
She turned back to me. “When what is over?”
“The business I do with your husband and Mr. Duer.”
She smiled at me. It was a strange thing. Mrs. Pearson was fair, and I dark; her eyes the palest blue, mine a heavy green; her features tiny and delicate, mine sharp and prominent. No one would ever have called us alike, and yet, for an instant, I felt as though I looked in a mirror. I knew that smile, in its stark cynicism and cold, penetrating understanding of the truth. “You command their respect, but you blind them with charm too.”
“I don’t take your meaning.”
She smiled again, though this time it seemed to me more forced. “I don’t know what you are doing with them, but I know it is not what they think. No, do not say a word. I don’t want you to lie to me, and I don’t want you to tell me the truth, lest Mr. Pearson force me to tell him. I don’t know Mr. Duer, and I have no opinion of him, but I know my husband, and I shall not interfere with you.”
I swallowed hard and attempted to show no reaction at all. “Is that what you wished to say to me?”
“No,” she whispered. She turned away again, facing the window; with her voice low and the crackling of the fire, I could hardly hear her. Yet, against the odds, her words made their way to me and somehow were clear. “I heard a mention of Captain Saunders, and I want to know what was said.”
“Can it be you know him, this man said to be a traitor?”
“I knew him during the war. He was no traitor, and he was my father’s friend.”
“And your friend?” I asked.
She nodded. “I was to marry him.” She faced me now, but her voice was so low it was almost indistinguishable from breath. “Things went very wrong. My father died, and Ethan-had to flee. They accused him of crimes he could not have committed, but the world thought him guilty, and he could not endure that the taint should fall upon me also. I have never believed for a moment he did anything wrong. Ethan Saunders is the most astonishing man I’ve ever known.”
“He is now in Philadelphia,” I said.
Her eyes went wide. “What?”
“He is in town, and your husband means to harm him.”
She took my hand. “You don’t mean to let him, do you?”
I shook my head. “Oh, no,” I said. “You may depend upon it. I had never heard of Ethan Saunders before tonight, but he sounds like the sort of man worth protecting.” I meant it. Without having met him, I liked him already, perhaps because we had both suffered at the hands of an ungrateful government. At the same time, I could not help but wonder if he might prove to be of some use to me.
I have to admit I was extremely curious about this Saunders, and also quite sanguine about what he could mean for our project. My man in Duer’s employ in New York had proved vital, but the rest of the men had been forced to endure months of inactivity, trusting in me as I cavorted with Duer, hoping I knew what I was doing, worrying that instead of bringing down our enemies I only strengthened them.
Learning more about Saunders would give us something to do. One at a time the boys went out to observe him, to see what sort of man he was, to see if he was a threat or an asset. I longed to see him for myself, but most of the public places he frequented were not the sort in which I could hope to blend unseen.
The first time I saw him was at the Duck Pond on a cold and sunny Sunday afternoon. Skye had been observing him and, believing he would be present for some time more, sent a boy to fetch me. When I arrived, I watched him from a distance, walking the perimeter, observing the ladies with predatory interest. He seemed to be particularly attentive to ladies who traveled in groups with no gentlemanly accompaniment.
“What do you think of him?” asked Skye.
“He’s very handsome,” I said, “and very drunk. I doubt he could be much of a threat to us, and I’m not convinced he will be much of an asset.”
“Best to be safe,” said Skye.
“It is always better to be safe,” I agreed. “Does he have anyone close to him, someone we could approach?”
“There are not many, but I do believe there is someone,” Skye said.
“Then it is time we began to pay this someone to keep us informed.”
Ethan Saunders
The next morning, Leonidas and I ordered a pot of tea sent up to my room, and with daylight streaming upon my small table, we continued to look over the dozens of pages I’d taken from Freneau. The man had been busy, I will say that much for him, for he had not only several pages of closely written notes but many letters he had evidently borrowed or stolen. These were from and to Duer, and covered many tedious details, some too convoluted or elliptical to be deciphered, but others quite clear. Duer, the letters indicated, was indeed planning on taking control of the Million Bank and using its moment of ascendancy to absorb the Bank of the United States.
Freneau’s documents made clear that Duer had organized a group of traders into what he called a Six Percent Club. These men conspired to bring down the price of the six percent issues that Duer might then buy, obtaining a near monopoly. With the issues out of circulation, their value would rise, increasing Duer’s wealth. Moreover, Bank of the United States scrip holders needed these issues to pay out their shares. If they could not obtain the six percents, they would have to sell the scrip, most likely at a discount. Thus Duer hoped to gain a monopoly on Bank of the United States scrip. He imagined that by the end of the year, he would be the only significant holder of either. He would, in effect, own the American economy.