Melly paused before the wall at the end of the hall. She pushed upon it, and the wall moved to reveal a round turret that had a spiral staircase going down.
We followed Melly down and when she came to a door, she opened it and we were back in the hall with the bedchambers.
Portraits of stern looking ancestors lined the walls between the doors, the candlelight from wall sconces flickering on their faces and making them look sinister.
“Should not we be going down?” Levi asked her as he followed on her heels.
“So you will, but not the main way.” She paused outside the door to the chamber that Levi and I had first been held in. “This is as far as I can go. Take this,” she handed her lantern to Levi, “and go to the wardrobe. Behind it you will find a door. Follow that staircase down and it will lead you out of the house.”
There had been a way out inside of our prison chamber? It would be something like that.
“Thank you, Melly,” I said.
Levi went further, catching her hand and kissing the back. “You are an angel, Melly.”
Pink covered her cheeks as she smiled. “You must hurry.”
“We are staying at a cottage about a mile from here. Should you have need of us, you need—”
“I will send word,” she promised.
Betsy, James, and I went into the bedchamber. Levi was just following us in when a voice called from down the hall.
“Melly! What have you done?” The door slammed shut, and we could hear Melly yelling at someone.
“Quick!” Levi and I ran to the wardrobe while Betsy leveled her musket at the door.
My heart was beating a swift rhythm as we began pushing the wardrobe aside. Part of a small door appeared as Melly had said there would be. The wardrobe was a heavy thing, but it was on a track. As I pushed against the wood some more, trying to get it moved enough to open the door, nothing happened. Shoving again, the things refused to move.
The bedchamber door flew open, slamming against the wall.
Levi turned to face the intruder while I shoved with all my strength against the wardrobe. It budged. One more push and I was able to get the small door open wide enough for our bodies to fit through.
The sound of fist striking flesh sounded behind me, and I spun around, ready to defend my brother and Betsy, but it was Levi who had struck. The guard was tenderly feeling his jaw while Betsy looked down the long barrel of her musket. It looked too heavy for her but she held on.
“Come closer and you’ll receive a little more of the home brewed,” Levi promised with his fists raised.
Shoving James toward the opening, he slipped through, and then I pulled Betsy toward it. She handed me her musket as she went.
Pointing the musket at the guard, I spoke. “Levi, now.”
My brother ran to the opening and dashed through. Slowly backing up, I kept the musket aimed at the guard’s chest.
He smirked at me. “You will never escape.”
“It appears as if I just did,” I said and stepped back onto a stone stair. The guard did not charge toward me but turned and ran out of the bedchamber. Levi and I flew down the stairs that James and Betsy had already gone down. There was a hatch at the bottom, open to allow sunlight into the passage. Levi climbed through the hatch and I handed the musket out to him before climbing through.
As I rose, I realized my mistake.
Betsy, James, and Levi were being held against some of Luther’s guards, gags in their mouths. One of the guards held the musket that I had handed to him, pointing the barrel at me.
“You will come with us without a complaint, or you will find yourself to be the reason for your family’s deaths.”
Raising my hands in the air, I nodded my agreement. The guards surrounded us as they led us around the house, but not inside. They kept us walking down the drive. I was staring at the guard’s back before me, and did not see what was ahead of us until Betsy gasped. Glancing over the guard’s shoulder, my world broke apart, and all that I felt was fear.
Standing upon the scaffold, a rope around her neck, was Guinevere.
CHAPTER 25
GUINEVERE
The sun was hot against my fair skin, heating me with a blaze. The rope around my neck chafed, but not as much as having been caught.
Melly had tried to lead me out of the house, but I was not leaving without Jack. She was leading me toward a bedchamber where she said that I could wait for her when we turned a corner and came straight upon Freddy, Luther, and Martha! Seeing my old nurse and then chaperone in the company of my uncle had caused me a moment of shock, and that moment cost me my escape. The thought struck me, as Luther was gushing over Melly capturing me, that Martha was there in pretense. That she had not truly betrayed me. She stared at me without a hint of emotion upon her face. She was wearing all black, which I had never seen her don. She much preferred bright colors that drew attention. She was used to say that if attention was upon her then people would be less aware of me.
She had been more than my chaperone over the years. She had been my one true friend, my confidante during those years of seclusion when I was separated from my sisters.
Martha was not old. She was a few years younger than my mother would have been.
Martha could not betray me to my uncle. Or so I thought.
Luther smiled at me, his delight radiating from his face. “Two of my nieces back where they belong. In the safekeeping arms of their beloved uncle.”
Nearly laughing aloud at his audacity, I had an urge to spit on him, but I refrained.
“Now all that we need is dear Arabella and the artifacts and we can sail home, where we belong.”
Glancing at Freddy, my gaze had to have relayed my incredulity. Freddy remained unmoved and unemotional. Standing beside his father, I could see the resemblance in the eyes. Nothing else except Freddy’s height came from Luther. He had inherited his looks from his mother’s side. A woman that I had never met. Freddy had said that Luther had murdered his mother, the same as he had my parents.
Freddy had been raised with us in the palace, being treated more like a brother and a son than a cousin and a nephew by my family. He had been well liked in the later days. When his father first brought him to Lutania had been before I was born. From what Leo told us, Freddy had been a shy, quiet boy, though prone to angry outbursts. He had kept himself to himself until Arabella and I were born. Mother had once told me that the moment Freddy saw us, he began to change. He would come and visit with her more often, just to see us. He was a kind boy, until his father would come for a rare visit. Freddy would hide himself away until he was ordered to make an appearance. Luther was never kind to Freddy, and when my father saw Luther strike Freddy, he told Luther to leave and not return until he could show some kindness to his only child.
When Luther returned, he murdered my father.
“My sister will never place herself within your reach,” I assured Luther.
His grin never faltered. “Oh, I believe that she will. She will not be able to resist when she hears that I have her sisters. You will assist me with drawing her here. You will write a message that will be delivered to her.”
I did laugh then.
“You will issue a trade to my dearest Arabella. The artifacts for her sisters.”
“I believe that this American heat is getting to you, making you touched in your upper works.”
Luther took a step toward me, the smile slipping from his face. With his finger and his thumb he pinched my chin and raised it until my eyes met his. “I will not abide a crass and brassy attitude, Constance.”
“What will you do?” There was a challenge in my words even though he was pinching my chin painfully. I would not show him fear. Even if I felt the tremors that wanted to release.
“Beat them out of you, with a rod.” He threw my chin away from him and turned to Martha. “What do you say, my dear? Will Arabella agree?”
Martha stared hard at me for a long moment. When her concentra
ted gaze broke from mine, she sighed. “No.”
“Then allow us to present her with the right incentive.”
That was how I ended up standing upon the scaffold with a rope around my neck and my wrists bound behind my back.
For at least twenty minutes I had been left standing there, waiting for what, I did not know. Until I saw Jack being led toward me.
The moment our gazes met, Jack went wild. Striking against the guards surrounding him, he knocked one down and attacked another before he was forced to his stomach upon the ground. He struggled against them, trying to get himself up but one had his boot against the back of Jack’s neck and another had his boot upon Jack’s back. He could have flipped over if it were not for the musket resting against his head.
Levi, James, and Betsy were behind him, and I could see Levi straining to get to his brother, but the guards holding him kept jerking him back.
James was speaking out about the injustice and the ramifications once the constables were alerted to such vile treatment of a friend of the president and received a backhanded slap against his cheek.
Betsy wanted to help, I could see it in her face, but her guard had his arms around her, holding her up against him. A lecher if ever there was one, for he kept sniffing her hair and stroking her neck. I took a step forward and the rope tightened. There was nothing I could do and the truth infuriated me.
“Jack!” I called out, and he stilled as his gaze focused upon me. I shook my head slightly and Jack’s jaw hardened, but he ceased his struggling.
The guards lifted Jack and carried him toward the scaffold, but they did not halt at the stairs. They carried him up and placed him on his feet beside me. His attention was solely upon me as a second rope was looped around his neck.
“You will not be needin’ these boots, me’thinks,” said one of the guards. He knelt before Jack.
“Do not,” I said quickly as I saw Jack’s leg twitch. He wanted to kick the man, but what good would that do him?
Jack was still without a shirt, and once his boots were removed, with a great deal of strain from the guard, Jack stood there in his breeches and stockings.
Hearing a carriage coming toward us, I moved my attention to it, praying that my sisters had not responded to Luther’s offer of a trade. When I saw that it came from the house, I released a weighty breath. As it pulled to a halt, not only Luther, Martha, and Freddy climbed out but Nell and Charlotte as well.
As soon as Nell saw her son, she attacked Luther.
Launching herself forward, she threw her fist against Luther’s head. As it bobbed forward, she jumped up again, wrapping her arms around Luther’s neck.
Screaming in Danish she called him all manner of foul names between repeating that he would not harm her children.
A shrill whistle sounded, and my head turned toward Levi. He whistled a number of different tones, and beside me Jack began to call out instructions to Nell.
“Break his pipe, Mama,” Jack shouted.
“Gouge his eyes,” Levi instructed.
“Pull his nose,” Jack ordered.
“Pull his nose hairs,” Levi shouted, causing a few of the guards to look at him with raised brows.
“Bite his ear,” Jack said, not to be outdone by his brother.
“Pull out his tongue,” Levi offered, and drew Jack’s laugh.
“How is she to do that?” Jack asked his brother.
Levi shrugged, grinning.
“Boys,” Nell called out in a strained voice, “Mama is a trifle occupied, so hush!”
Breaking through their abstraction, a few of the guards rushed toward the choking Luther, with cudgels in their hands, but it was Freddy who succeeded in pulling Nell from Luther.
Luther coughed and gasped, his face going from pale to red in an instant. He turned upon Nell and raised his fist.
“No!” screamed Charlotte, who had been cowering against the carriage while Nell had attacked.
Luther’s fist swung toward Nell. Levi shouted and went wild against his guards’ holds. Jack tried to get his neck free from the rope so that he could run to Nell’s aid.
In an instant, Freddy shoved Nell aside and captured Luther’s fist against his palm. Freddy’s hand strained against Luther’s fist as Luther’s eyes widened their length.
“Striking women is something that I will not allow!” Freddy threw Luther’s fist away, and turned to help Nell to her feet.
Behind him, veins bulged in Luther’s neck and he tore a cudgel from one of the guards.
“Freddy!” Charlotte shrieked and ran forward, knocking Freddy aside as the cudgel came down. Charlotte was not quick enough to get out of the way and it struck her arm.
Charlotte screamed, and both Nell and Martha shouted as they moved toward Charlotte. Nell wrapped her arms around Charlotte’s shoulders, protectively, as Charlotte wailed.
Freddy turned upon his father and his fist flew toward Luther’s face. That one hit sent Luther to the ground, but Freddy was not through. Bending over his father, Freddy gripped the front of his coat, pulled him up, and struck him again. Fist met flesh over and over until two of the guards succeeded in pulling Freddy away. Luther lay upon the ground in a moaning, bloody mess.
“I say, good show, Freddy,” Levi called out in a cheered voice.
“Release me!” Freddy ordered it in such an authoritative voice that one of the guards instantly dropped his hands. The other guard kept his hold, his face fierce.
“I said, release me,” Freddy gritted out, twisted in the guard’s hold and struck him to the ground.
Once he was laid out flat, Freddy stepped back, pulled a handkerchief from his inside breast pocket and dotted it against his own brow. Freddy moved to Charlotte’s side and gently took her hand, drawing her arm out from Charlotte’s protective stance.
Freddy’s fingers gently felt along the arm. “It is not broken.”
Releasing a sigh, I slumped for a second, until the rope pulled against my neck.
Luther stumbled to his knees, his own handkerchief out and trying to mop up the blood on his face.
“You will pay for your insolence, boy,” Luther spat at Freddy.
Freddy gently tucked Charlotte’s arm back against her side and turned to face his father. “You may certainly try, but I am not a frightened ten year old child any longer. If you push, I will push back. Mark my words.”
Luther twisted away from his son and struck a blow to the nearest guard. That man doubled over as Luther stomped past him.
“Where is she?” Luther shouted.
“Jack,” I whispered as Luther stomped around, kicking up dust in his anger. “Do you trust me?”
His gaze moved from Luther and softened when it rested upon me. There was so much love and trust in his blue eyes that I nearly lost the courage to admit what I was about to admit.
“With the whole of my being,” Jack whispered in return.
“Follow my lead.” Focusing upon Luther, I shouted. “She is not coming.”
Luther’s fit ceased for an instant before he bounded up the stairs of the scaffold and leaned down an inch from my face. I could feel his breath as he huffed out through his flaring nostrils.
“You had best pray that she does. I do not require three princesses to rule when one will suffice.” Luther smirked at me, but grimaced as the cut on his lip began to bleed again. “After I hang you and your lover, I will hang every one of his friends, and then I will hang your sister.”
Luther moved his head so that I could see Charlotte. He truly did believe that Charlotte was Mary Edith. I had thought that he would have known the truth. Martha certainly knew.
Why then, if she was on his side, did she not tell him? What did she hope to gain?
“She will never step into a trap of your making. She has too much sense for that, sense gained from our father.”
“Is that supposed to enrage me?” Luther asked aloud before laughing. When his laughter faded, he glared into my eyes, speaking soft. “Your
father was a sniveling, weakling. His sense did not save him from my blade in the end, and it will not save you or your sisters from the plans I have for you.”
Jack took two steps toward me and kicked Luther in the gut, the blow sending him sprawling backwards. There was nothing to grasp as his arms flailed, and then he fell backwards off the scaffold. Striking his back on the ground must have hurt but he did not show pain as he hopped up, screaming curses in both Danish and English.
Luther bounded up the steps and gripped the lever that would plunge Jack and I to our deaths.
“Do you wish to plead for your lives?” Luther sneered.
“Arabella is not coming,” I said with finality.
“So be it!” Luther gripped the lever.
Could I do this? Could I share my greatest and final secret?
“Tell him, Constance.” Freddy shouted with enough conviction that Luther’s hand paused over the lever.
Meeting Jack’s gaze, I drew in a fortifying breath, and admitted the one secret that I swore never to reveal to my uncle.
“Rose is not coming …”
Jack was shaking his head, begging me not to tell, and I realized that he thought I was confessing about the baby. Our child. Turning my gaze from him, I stared out over the heads of those who had come to be my family, over the tops of the trees, into the horizon.
Finish this, Constance. Speak the truth and pray that the truth does indeed set you free.
That had been what Gideon had told me during one of our counseling meetings. That the truth would set me free. He meant the truth about the Holy Order, about telling Jack who I was and where I came from, but not even Gideon knew the whole truth. The truth would set me free? I could only hope.
“…because the future queen is already here.”
CHAPTER 26
JACK
She was lying. She had to be. If not … I could not begin to contemplate the ramifications if she were telling the truth.
“You are lying,” Luther said.
“There is one way to know the truth,” Guinevere said without a tremor. She sounded stronger than I had ever heard her when facing her uncle. “Release us from these ropes, and bring me Sfære af lys.”
phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware Page 25