“Willow bark,” said Franklin. “It contains a pain-killing ingredient specific to headaches. I never disturb the servants this early, but I’ll ring for them to find Bancroft, the secretary of our embassy—high time you met—and he shall make you a willow tisane. The chap’s a medicinal genius,” Franklin assured Jefferson. “Worked on a plantation in Guiana. He’s patented all sorts of textile dyes made from barks and tropical plants. I sponsored his election, years ago, to the Royal Society in London—he’s been our covert British agent ever since.”

“But how do you know you can trust the fellow?” asked Adams. “Some say Edward Bancroft’s a war speculator, only out to profit himself. If he takes our money, he may do the same with the French or British. Should he be privy to communiqués from Congress? And take notes of our private councils?”

“My dear Adams—” Franklin was already pulling the bell cord, as if shrugging off such concerns “—everyone in France is a spy of some kind. You’ll find that a few things have changed since your last foray to this continent. For one, there’s no war going on, upon which one might speculate—either financially or philosophically. We keep eyes on the British only to make sure they won’t begin one! For another, here at Le Valentinois, we live life so openly and blamelessly that there is really nothing to spy upon!”

No sooner had Franklin released the bell cord than the door to the outer hall popped open. There stood Edward Bancroft, splendidly outfitted in lacy jabot, satin breeches and powdered wig—dressed, as always, for a fancy ball. Adams shot a wicked glance toward Franklin, who ignored it.

“Dash me,” said Franklin with his same wry smile. “It seems the walls have ears. My dear Bancroft, we were just speaking of you!”

“I must possess better powers than Professor Mesmer,” said Bancroft, returning the smile. “Only a moment ago, whilst in the small salon, I had the intuitive feeling I was wanted here in this room. Now I find you—uncustomarily dressed at this hour—and locked away with some colleagues. By all appearances, you three gents are already working up a storm of intrigue before your secretary’s arrival.”

“Nothing of the sort,” Franklin assured him. “We were playing chess. May I present Mr. Jefferson—lately arrived from America?” Bancroft took Jefferson’s proffered hand as Franklin added, “And, of course, Adams here is not unknown to you—though his wife and daughter, who’ve just set foot on these shores, will be joining us to dine.”

“I’ve had the pleasure of their acquaintance moments ago,” Bancroft told him.

“Yes,” explained Adams. “My family wanted to arrive early. John Quincy had promised to take the doctor’s little grandson, Benny, for a ride in Mr. Jefferson’s trap.”

“As we’ve so many young folk, my dear Bancroft,” said Franklin, “you might ask the servants for an earlier meal than our usual two o’clock repast. Oh, and while you’re at it, a willow bark tisane for Mr. Jefferson.”