A Question of Class (12 page)

From the corner of his eye, he noticed Carpenter walk briskly into the ballroom and motion toward the same group of men he’d been standing with earlier. As Carpenter led the group of men out of the ballroom, Benjamin followed.

He caught up with them one floor above the ballroom, standing in the middle of a grand library. Books covered every wall, and the woodwork, extending up the walls and across the ceiling, was intricately carved and smoothly polished. The men gathered around a table covered with several bottles of wine and half a dozen goblets. Carpenter noticed Benjamin lurking in the doorway and invited him in.

“This, my friends, is Mr. Benjamin Thomas, a relation of Delcour’s.” Carpenter turned to Benjamin. “You must join us. I’m about to uncork a bottle of wine that will bring you to your knees. You’ve never tasted anything quite like it.”

Benjamin nodded politely as he was introduced to the other men. There were five of them, including the owner of the City Hotel and several esteemed innkeepers.

Carpenter seemed nervous and Benjamin noticed his hands shook as he uncorked the bottle. Carpenter caught his glance and gave him a smile.

“Let me catch you up, my dear man,” he said. “You don’t know much about wine, do you?”

Benjamin shook his head. “Please, I’m eager to learn.”

“Now this is a Chateau Margaux.” Carpenter pointed to the label. “You, like the rest of the ignorant souls of the Americas, have tasted what I call the lower liquors, like rum, gin and brandy. In France, wine is the drink of choice, and Chateau Margaux is the quintessence of the grape. Each year the vines are grown in a dry, gravelly soil and clamor for liquid. This concentrates the taste in the delectable fruit in a way no other vineyard can do. I visited Delcour in Bordeaux two summers ago, and I tell you, this is the juice of the gods. Soon, everyone in America will be drinking wine, but you’ll be able to say you have tasted nectar, my dear men.”

“Enough talking, pour me a glass,” said the man standing to Benjamin’s right. They all laughed.

Carpenter poured a small amount into his own glass and tasted it. Instead of swallowing, he swished it around his mouth, and the men watched him intently. Benjamin was certain if Carpenter gargled with it next, they’d do the same.

After swallowing and smacking his lips, Carpenter poured each man a glass, wiping the lip of the bottle with a serviette after each pour.

“To doing business,” said Carpenter, raising his glass.

“To business,” repeated the others.

Benjamin rolled the liquid around in his glass. To his surprise, the wine didn’t have the deep plum hue he’d noticed the few times he’d tasted Chateau Margaux back in France. Perhaps the discoloration was due to the long journey by sea. When he lifted the glass to his lips, Benjamin found the taste to be much more tannic than he’d expected. He took another, more tentative sip.

Carpenter was studying his face intently and Benjamin smiled at him. The other men were all exclaiming their delight.

“What do you think?” Carpenter asked him.

“I’ve never had anything like it. I’m more of an ale man myself.” Benjamin held up his glass and took another sip.
Definitely not Chateau Margaux.

“I see,” said Carpenter. “The rest of you are a touch more advanced than Mr. Thomas here, and I hope you’ll agree with me this is exquisite.”

“I’ll take ten cases for the City Hotel,” said one gentleman.

The truth was out: Carpenter and Delcour were taking advantage of the Americans’ ignorance of fine wine. As Carpenter took orders, each man vying for a piece of what they thought was precious cargo, Benjamin slipped out the door.

* * * *

Catherine figured she’d be safe from Percy back in the ballroom, surrounded by guests and servants. Theodosia was nowhere to be seen, but Catherine spied Benjamin up on the second floor balcony, moving at a great clip deeper into the house and not even glancing down at the dancers below. Intrigued, she headed up the stairway and followed him. She thought he was supposed to be keeping an eye on her, but between dancing with Marianne and creeping along corridors, he wasn't doing much of a job.

Catherine found herself in the same hallway she’d come from. Luckily, Percy had disappeared. Ahead of her, Benjamin tried a door on the right, peered in and then quietly shut it. He moved down the hallway in this manner until he found the door to Carpenter’s study and disappeared inside.

Catherine waited a few seconds outside the study. Back down the hallway, she heard men’s voices and the distinctive guttural laugh of Carpenter. She opened the door and entered.

The room had large windows draped by thick velvet, and was dimly lit by a couple of sconces. A large desk stood at one end near a marble fireplace. She hoped Carpenter was headed back to the party and not coming this way. Benjamin stood behind the desk, leaning over it and leafing through some papers.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Benjamin jumped back from the desk. He’d been so engrossed in whatever he was looking at, he hadn’t heard her approach.

She smiled. “I'm not sure what Mr. Carpenter would say if he knew you were snooping through his papers.”

Benjamin slowly moved from behind the desk. “He wouldn’t be amused.”

“Why don’t you tell me what are you up to? If you don’t, I’ll fetch Mr. Carpenter myself.”

“I should ask you the same question.”

“I saw you lurking around the hallways and I followed you.”

“I would’ve thought you’d take better advantage of your freedom to escape. Why bother sneaking around after me?”

“I wasn’t sneaking. And anyway, I have no means of escape.” Without meaning to, she glanced at the desk.

He followed her gaze. “What’s in the desk?”

She pursed her lips.

“The Yquem? What do you plan on doing with the bottle once you find it?” he asked. “Break it, drink it or run away with it?”

“That’s none of your concern. There's a reason you're here at the Carpenter’s ball, and it's not only to keep an eye on me. You are not what you seem.” She listed the evidence on her fingers. “You’re far more cultured than a man who claims he’s been on the sea most of his life. I have some serious doubts about your servitude to a mustard merchant, and finally, you keep losing me. As a minder you’re quite hopeless.” She stared hard at him. “Why are you pretending to be someone you’re not?”

* * * *

Benjamin moved to the window and considered his next move. Down on the street the shops were shuttered for the evening, and candlelight flickered in the windows in the floors above. Horse-driven hackneys rolled by the line of guest carriages outside the mansion, kicking up dust where the coachmen waited in small groups.

“If you won’t tell me, I have no choice but to send a letter to my husband warning him of your treasonous ways,” threatened Catherine.

He laughed. “And why would you do that? Do you think that would prevent him from sending you to the West Indies?”

“Of course not. He’s determined to get rid of me, in no uncertain terms. There's no point in me trying to get into his good graces. No, Mr. Thomas, I have other plans for you.”

The woman was in no position to give him orders, yet she had the audacity to act as if she were. “You seem to think you have some kind of power over me. I’m not your servant, may I remind you.”

She came over and stood beside him, looking out at rooftops of New York. “Of course.” She nodded slowly. “I am aware of that.”

“And so what is it you want?”

“You don’t like my husband. In fact, I believe you detest him. I’ve seen the way you look at him. It appears we have a common enemy. Tell me what you're after. Perhaps I can be of service.”

“And what do you want in return?”

“The glory of seeing Morris Delcour ruined, among other things.”

“I can’t imagine that would be enough for you. You must want something else.”

“I do. But it will have to wait. Agree to help me.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Mr. Carpenter is not far from here. All I have to do is fetch him and tell him I found you searching through his private papers.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m a desperate woman. You don’t know what I would or would not do.”

Benjamin considered his options. If he had more time, it was possible he’d find proof Carpenter and Delcour were committing fraud. But Catherine was on to him. She could easily get in the way. On the other hand, perhaps he could take advantage of Catherine’s dislike of her husband and her precarious situation.

“You can tell me,” she said in a softer tone. “Perhaps I can help.”

He faced her. This would only work if he never let down his guard. “I think your husband and Carpenter are not being honest about the quality of the wines they're importing. I'm trying to find proof.”

She smiled. “I have an idea of what you’re looking for.”

“And what is that?”

“I’m not going to tell you, but Mr. Delcour has something hidden away, and he doesn’t know I know about it. Is that good enough?”

“It may be.” Either Catherine was an excellent actress, or she was speaking the truth. He turned away from her and sat behind the desk. “First let’s see if you’re right about the Yquem.”

“Theodosia said it’s in the bottom drawer.”

Benjamin gave it a tug. “It’s locked.”

“If I tell you how to get into the drawer, will you promise me we’ll split the proceeds between us?”

“Perhaps.” He did a quick calculation. If they sold the Yquem, there’d be more than enough money for the two of them.

“And there’s one more thing,” she said.

He shot her a look. “Make it quick. We need to get out of this room.”

“I will tell you where to find your proof and help you get it, but first, you must take me to Bridgeport.”

He sat back and shook his head in amazement at her. “Bridgeport? Connecticut? Why on earth do you need to go to Bridgeport?”

“My circumstances have changed. That’s all I’ll tell you for now.”

“That’s impossible. We can’t leave New York right now.”

“We can leave tonight. It won’t take long, only a couple of days. Once we’ve returned, I can get you what you need, and we can go our separate ways.”

He laughed. “Are you kidding? What is it about you and your preference for running away in the middle of the night?”

“You may laugh all you want, but that is my offer.”

The sound of voices drifted in from the hallway. Catherine picked up a letter opener. She knelt down at the bottom drawer and jammed it into the lock.

“It won’t open,” she said, frustrated.

Benjamin took the letter opener from Catherine’s hand and crouched down beside her. He gently probed the keyhole, and gave it a quick flick of his wrist. With a click, the lock released.

He pulled open the drawer. Inside, on top of some papers, was a bottle. Benjamin lifted it out and held it up to the light of the sconces.

“Whiskey,” he said.

“Let me see.”

Benjamin showed it to her and then put it back in the drawer. Her face fell.

“I’m afraid so,” he said. “Now tell me, why do you need to go to Bridgeport?”

She had tears in her eyes. “It’s my sister. You have to help me rescue my sister.”

10

A shuffling noise just outside the room stopped Benjamin cold. As the door opened, he grabbed Catherine, threw her over the desk and kissed her passionately.

“Mr. Thomas, Mrs. Delcour. How strange to find you here.”

It was Carpenter.

Benjamin straightened up and awkwardly tugged at his frockcoat. “We’re sorry to be intruding.”

Catherine pointed her finger and glowered at Benjamin. “Don’t you ever touch me like that again.” He gave her a slight nod of encouragement and she turned to face Carpenter. “This is no gentleman. He drew me in here and tried to take advantage of me.”

Carpenter entered the room. “And how can you blame him, Mrs. Delcour? I must admit, I don’t know if I’d be able to help myself either.”