phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware

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phantom knights 04 - deceit in delaware Page 29

by Amalie Vantana


  Mariah’s blood turning scream was what drove me out of my living nightmare.

  She ran toward Luther, though I knew she was trying to reach Jericho. Luther’s fist flew forward, slamming against her cheek.

  Bess screamed, rising from where she was kneeling on the ground, and I jumped from the scaffold, landing beside her. Mother was helping Father to his feet to our right, and it was there that Luther’s gaze was fixed.

  Bess grabbed my hand, squeezing it, and together we ran toward our parents, placing ourselves between them and Luther.

  “Step aside, children,” Father said, and pushed himself through our barrier to stand before us.

  Mother grabbed an arm on both of us, to keep us at her sides instead of trying to block Father from facing Luther.

  Luther did not have another shot in his gun, or so I thought, until he raised it and I saw the triple barrels on one of Leo’s special weapons.

  “Put down your weapon, Luther, and fight me how we did as boys. Your fists against mine,” Father said.

  Luther’s sneer was devilish. “Allow you to cheat, you mean.” The wild swirling in his eyes had me itching to rush forward. Father had to know that Luther would not agree, but he was William Martin. The great Loutaire. The first Loutaire. The founder of the Phantoms, a knight of Lutania, and the master of disguise. He knew what Luther was going to do. And yet … and yet he did not remove himself from the path of danger. He was protecting us. My father was protecting us.

  Slowly moving my head to look at my sister, Bess was staring straight ahead, her jaw tight and her teeth grinding. She knew it, the same as I did. My father was prepared to take Luther’s shot, to protect us, his family.

  I could not allow him to stand alone. Forcing my mother’s hand from my arm, I started to move forward. Luther’s gun shifted toward me.

  “Jack, do not,” my father said, as Luther’s pistol shifted back, and his finger jerked over the trigger.

  “No!” Bess screamed the word, as my father’s body crashed into mine, but not from the impact of the ball. From a larger impact. From a body launching into his.

  I heard the ball strike flesh. I saw the body lurch. I heard my father yell as he caught my mother’s dropping form.

  “No! No. No. No. No. No.” My sister’s words ripped through me as she dropped down beside my gasping mother.

  Falling to my knees, I reached forward to try to search for the wound. When my father shifted her into Bess’s arms, I saw where the ball struck, and my heart burst wide open.

  Tearing my shirt, I wadded the fabric and pressed it onto her chest, crying out a noise between a growl and a sob as the white fabric quickly turned red.

  Mother’s mouth was moving, as if she was trying to speak. Bess quickly hushed her, telling her not to try to speak, to save her strength. To fight.

  All that echoed through my head was the word no. I could not speak it as Bess had done, but it was just as loud in my head as it had been when Bess said it.

  “This is your doing,” Luther shouted, drawing my attention away from my mother. I could not see him through my father’s charging body. And then the earth rocked with a second explosion. As my father’s body rocked, I did not believe what my eyes were seeing. I did not comprehend what was happening … until my father’s body struck the ground. His gaze was focused on me as his head bounced against the ground.

  He mouthed my name. Crawling forward as fast as I could, I picked up the hand that he had slightly raised from the ground.

  He was saying something but it was too soft. Leaning my ear down next to his mouth, I heard the words, and they caused the dam around my emotions to explode.

  Nodding, I quickly moved to his head, lifted his shoulders and dragged him to my mother’s side.

  He kept his pain inside, even though I knew that I had just hurt him beyond endurance. As I placed him on the ground beside my mother, he reached over and took her hand.

  Tears were coursing down Bess’s cheeks, her jaw shaking in silent sobs.

  “I never—I never wanted,” Father whispered brokenly, wincing with every word, every breath. “I never wanted to hurt you,” Father said to Bess.

  She quickly nodded, wiping away her tears with the backs of her shaking hands.

  Father’s gaze moved to me. “For—give—me.”

  He turned his gaze back to my mother, and when I looked at her, I broke everywhere, all at once. Her eyes were staring straight into his, but she was not there. She had gone ahead of him.

  Father’s hand twitched over hers. “At … least we … will be …together.” With a slow rise of his chest, it released in one long, final breath.

  Bess lost control on her sobs, lowering her forehead to our mother’s and releasing her screams. They might not have been earth shattering, but to me they were.

  My own tears fell, as silent as my parents now were. Never to be heard, but changing me, just as their deaths would change me. Forever.

  For a moment I stared down at my father, facing the woman that he loved, despite everything that I or anyone believed. He loved her. He loved her.

  My hands slowly clenched and I pushed off of my knees to stand. With determined steps, I turned toward Luther. He had been staring at my mother, a flash of grief in his eyes. That set my rage rising like a wave during a storm in the ocean.

  Stomping toward him, he quickly raised the pistol. I saw the instant that he realized he had used all of the shots. As I reached him, he threw the pistol at me. It did not stop me from throwing my fist against his face. Against his gut. Against any place that I could touch. As my fists struck again and again, each strike was not enough. Would never be enough to satisfy.

  Someone shouted my name, but I would not stop. I threw my fist against him even as he dropped to his knees and then cowered into a ball upon the ground. His ribs broke beneath my powerful punches. His face was battered, bruised, but not enough.

  Arms wrapped around me from behind, but I broke free, throwing my boot forward in a mighty kick against Luther’s ribs. Moving to his head, I raised my boot to stomp upon him. To stomp the life out of his worthless soul. He had stolen not just my father, but my mother! He deserved so much more than I could deliver. I wanted to keep him alive and torture him to the brink of death, but not allow him that release. I wanted to break every bone in his body. But the truth was that I wanted my parents back. And no amount of torture could provide that.

  Fury swarmed me again, and I released my leg to stomp upon his head.

  Arms wrapped around me, lifting me in the air and away from Luther. I struggled like a wild animal, striking against whoever was holding me, until they dropped me, away from Luther.

  Twisting around, and prepared to strike, I found myself staring up into Leo’s face.

  He was alive.

  “He is down, Jack,” Leo said as he lowered himself slowly to my side. Someone had tied a cloth over his shoulder where his wound was, but he was alive.

  Moving my gaze around us, I saw Jericho sitting up with Mariah at his side. He gave me a somber nod as Mariah cried softly beside him.

  It was over. Our battle, our time as Phantoms, our fight was finally over.

  “We need …” I allowed my words to drift as I thought about what we needed to do. Swallowing against the brick of emotions in my throat, I focused upon Leo. “We need to shackle him, and then see to our wounded.”

  “Jack—”

  “Do as I say,” I bit out.

  Leo nodded, and stood. Instantly I felt ashamed for my anger, until I looked toward Luther, and he was not there.

  Scanning the yard, I saw him running along the trees toward the house.

  Pushing myself up, I gave chase, prepared to end him the moment I touched him.

  He was nearly to the house, his gaze riveted upon the open front doors, when out of the house an arrow flew, planting itself with deadly, firm accuracy. Straight in Luther’s chest.

  Sliding to a halt, I watched as the man who had been the ca
use of so much grief, so much trouble, and so much pain, died.

  CHAPTER 29

  GUINEVERE

  We had lost many during the battle in Delaware. During the war against my uncle.

  What hurt me the most, and yet made me the most thankful, was that I had not lost my sisters. Though I would never admit that truth. So many had died to protect us, to serve a cause that they had not even understood.

  Henry and Ben Shultz, Phantoms, had each died at the hands of those who served my uncle. George Crawford had died in Savannah, swayed by my uncle to an act that was not a reflection upon the man that he once had been. Abraham Coles had met his end saving one who was like his brother. Arnaud Beaumont died to protect my sister. Arthur, leader of Monroe’s guards had taken a ball to the chest to protect Leo. One of Rose’s friends had died protecting one of the constables. Five constables had met their ends at the hands of Luther’s guards. And then there was William and Nell Martin. Their deaths had placed a somber cloud over the end of the battle. A cloud that I was afraid could never be lifted.

  The battle had ended three months ago. And two months ago my family had sailed away from America, taking the return journey from which had first set us upon our paths. This time there was no fear chasing us, no worry for what was ahead. Only sadness and grief trailing in our wake.

  We had left Delaware almost immediately, leaving the constables and the Monroe’s guards to escort the remainder of my uncle’s guards into custody. We had spent a month in Charleston with Sam and Bess before it was time to say farewell.

  Those days had been filled with tears, plans, truths, and some laughter.

  Dudley and Hannah had been the first to depart, after startling everyone, my aunt Johanna most of all, with their decision not to go with us to Lutania. Dudley said that he was rather partial to America. No one knew what kind of mischief those two would find.

  The next had been James Wilson and Betsy Coles, who was now Betsy Wilson. She and James had married in Sam and Bess’s house with Gideon presiding over the marriage vows.

  Melly was to return to Lutania with us, since her mother had died a few years before. She had never seen the country of her father. She and Mary Edith had become quite good friends in the past few months.

  Freddy did not surprise me at all when he announced that he was remaining in America, but he did take Sam and Bess unaware when he requested Charlotte’s hand in marriage. That exchange had been one that I would never forget.

  We had been sitting in the book room, speaking about sailing routes, when Freddy interrupted to speak his mind.

  “Before I speak what is in my heart, allow me to say that I regret so much of what has happened, Bess, Jack, both now and in the past. I regret my sire’s depravity. I know what he did to your mother in Lutania, and I most sincerely apologize that my father’s actions started all of this. There are no words to express my grief at the passing of your parents, and by whose hand they ended this life.”

  “You are not responsible for the actions of your father, Freddy,” Bess told him at once. “All that you are responsible for is your own actions.”

  Freddy’s cheeks reddened as he lowered his gaze to the floor. “I have things in my past of which I am ashamed, it is true.” Freddy met Bess’s gaze again, and then Sam’s. “I know that I’m not a hero from a play, and I am older by a few years, but I love her.”

  “I do not follow,” Sam said as his brows dipped low in confusion.

  Freddy rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean to marry Charlotte, and I hope that you will not deny us.”

  “Us? Are you saying that Charlotte feels the same about you?” Bess asked.

  Freddy’s lips turned into a smile and so much longing surged into his eyes that I no longer recognized him.

  “Yes!” called Charlotte from the foyer. She flitted into the room, taking her place at Freddy’s side. She laced her fingers with his. “Yes, I do. Most ardently.”

  “How long have the two of you been … the two of you? Last I knew, she despised you for what you did in Savannah,” Jack said from where his hand was resting upon my slowly growing stomach.

  Freddy looked shamefaced. He had kept Charlotte a prisoner in the Levitas temple in Savannah. He claimed that it was done for her protection.

  “It was my duty to destroy the Savannah branch of Levitas. All that transpired with Charlotte before the lords of Levitas was done to make them trust in me.”

  “When did Charlotte discover all of this?” Sam demanded.

  “I told her in Savannah, though she did not believe me at the time,” Freddy said with a smile. “We only kept her there to protect her from my cousin Jensen.” Jensen was Lucas’s true name. “He was not a good man. Too much like my father.”

  “We? You mean you and George?” Jack asked.

  “We used Charlotte and Edith to draw the Phantoms to us, to aid us in destroying Levitas,” Freddy said, ignoring Jack’s question.

  “Those lords in Savannah were the final group of men who were a part of Richard Hamilton’s Levitas. He and General Lewis had broken away from the Holy Order and formed their own secret society during the war, using our name to further their deeds.”

  Everyone was silent for several moments, until Charlotte said, “Oh, do say that you approve, Sam. Please. I love him,” Charlotte looked up into his face, “more than the amount of water in the oceans, or fish in the seas. He is the chosen one of my heart.”

  Someone, I was guessing Jack, choked on a laugh.

  “I suppose,” Bess said after a long pause, “that we cannot deny you.”

  Sam scowled across at Freddy. “If you are Charlotte’s choice I will not stand in your way. First, though, I require your sacred vow. No more of your womanizing ways.”

  Freddy surged forward and gripped Sam’s hand. “You have my vow!”

  Freddy winced as Sam squeezed his hand. “If I hear even a hint that you are not behaving in your marriage, I will shoot you and feed your insides to a pack of wild dogs.”

  Charlotte and Freddy were married a week past in Charleston.

  When the decisions were made as to who would sail with us, we set our plans in motion. Arabella and Mary Edith were each eager to be on our way. With Leo and Levi to sail with us, they were each content.

  Saying goodbye to Bess and Sam was difficult. After all that they had done for me, I knew that I could never repay them. I could never give back what my trials had stolen from them.

  When I approached Bess, she touched my shoulder. “I can see that you blame yourself. None of this is your fault, Constance.”

  “If I had—”

  The pressure increased on my shoulder. “You are blameless. You did exactly what Jack or I or Sam would have done in your situation. You protected your family. We know that. Jack and I did do that after we thought our father was gone.”

  Levi, Bess and Jack smiled at each other, and I knew that it was time that I let them say their farewells alone.

  Embracing Bess, I never would have thought a year ago that we would be here today, but I believe that our paths were always destined to entwine.

  Stepping into the foyer, I pulled the parlor door closed behind me. Staring at Sam’s door, something rose within me. A desire to settle things before I left.

  I went out the front door and down the steps toward the side garden. Even when the doors were locked Sam left one of the tall windows unlatched. It was usually open when he was in there, as it was this day. Sam was leaning back in his chair, his eyes closed, and for a moment I thought about not disturbing him.

  “I know that you are there,” he said, drawing me into the room.

  “You have always known when I was here. Is that not why you have always kept this window unlatched?”

  Sam turned his head in my direction. His gray eyes were dimmed of their natural vibrancy, and had been since Abe died. His dark hair was askew, and he had not shaved since the battle.

  Before I went to Philadelphia, before I met Jack again, S
am had asked me a question. Then I did not have an answer for him, but now I did.

  “You once asked me why we could never be together.”

  Sam’s eyes closed again. “I was young and foolish.”

  “You were wise beyond your years, carrying the weight of your family and your friends on your shoulders. The reason we could never be together—”

  “Was because you were truly the heir to the throne,” Sam said.

  “—was because I have always loved Jack. Since I was fourteen. While you were the brother that I never wanted but always needed.”

  Sam flinched, and I went closer, sitting on the edge of his desk and facing him.

  “Do not you see, Sam? You were the brother to us all. You were exactly what we needed to hold us together. You were exactly what Abe needed. You were more than his cousin. You were his brother.”

  Sam’s head snapped up and a familiar spark lit his eyes like thunderclouds. “It was not enough! I was not enough.”

  “You were exactly what he needed. Please do not hate yourself for something that was never your choice. Abraham knew what he was doing when he pushed you out of the way of that shot. He was protecting you, just as you would have done for him.” Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to Sam’s rough cheek.

  Leaving the book room, I found Jack waiting for me in the foyer with Bess. She smiled as she released Jack’s hand and walked into the book room.

  Taking one last glance around the foyer that I would never see again, I took Jack’s hand and we left the house behind.

  It was not goodbye forever. Just for now. Bess had said that she would like to visit Lutania one day. She had told me that when the time came that Levi married Mary Edith she might persuade Sam into taking the journey. Provided that Levi did not do as he threatened and marry her the day that we arrived.

  On the journey, I had confessed the truth to Jack, much to his relief. I was not the intended queen as I had claimed. That honor still resided with my sister, the woman who deserved the title. I knew that she would rule with grace, kindness, and a firm hand.

  After two months, we finally arrived home.

 

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