Phantoms In Philadelphia

by Amalie Vantana

  “Do not walk away from me!” said an angry voice from the room across from the dining parlor. The older woman moved, so she could see into that room.

  “You have tried to make me look the fool.” It was Nicholas’s voice; I recognized the English lilt.

  “You do not need my help for that,” a woman’s sultry voice replied, and I stiffened. It was her voice.

  Nicholas spoke again though softer. “When you approached us for a place in the society, it was I who gained you entry into this sacred court, but do you treat it as you should? Do you respect the key that I have offered? No.”

  “If you believe that because you spoke for me I should feel indebted to become your wife, you are far from the mark. I owe no man.”

  A shadow stepped up behind the white-haired woman and gripped her arm. She screeched, shrinking away until she saw it was only Richard. “Listening at the door, Mrs. Lewis? Surely you have better uses for your time than to listen to a lover’s spat.” Richard held out his arm and the woman laid her hand on it. They walked into the room together.

  “Why you must quarrel so much I declare I know not,” the older woman scolded.

  “When Nicholas accepts that I shall never marry him, our quarrels will cease. My life may not be my own, but it shall never belong to Nicholas.” The woman in white walked into the foyer, slamming the door behind her. She was still hooded and cloaked, but I could tell that she was taking a deep breath.

  She walked past the stairs disappearing from our view. Jack touched my shoulder, and we moved down the stairs. I thought we were going toward the dining parlor, but Jack turned us right at the stairs.

  Beyond the stairs was a hall, dimly lit, with portraits hanging on both walls and three doors. Jack stopped at the first door on the right that had not been fully closed. It led to a staircase that went down below the house. Jack pulled out his pistol, and I had followed suit before we descended. At the bottom of the stairs was a cold, damp room that had jars and marked crates of food stacked. There was a door directly before the stairs that had not been closed all the way. Leaning against the stone wall, we looked into the room. She was standing with her back to us looking down at something on the floor. She shifted, and I saw Pierre’s face. I sucked in a silent breath as despair and sadness washed over me. We lost a great ally this day. Hannah knelt beside Pierre. There was a small vial in her hand that she uncorked. She placed a hand beneath Pierre’s head and tilting it up; she slipped the rim of the vial into his mouth and poured the contents in.

  “Arise, Pierre. Death is not yours this day.”

  Confusion and disbelief coursed through me. The woman was mad. Pierre’s eyes fluttered, and his back arched.

  My shaking hand came up to cover my mouth as Pierre’s eyes opened, and his head turned toward the door. Jack and I both jerked our heads back. Jack motioned for the stairs. I was near to bursting with questions, but I remained silent as we made our ascent. We pushed open the door and walked through, right into a man as wide as the door.

  “Intruders,” he spat, trying to grab Jack. Jack threw his fist into the man’s gut, shoved him back, and we ran into the throne room, Jack slamming the door behind us.

  The man’s shouts made us run toward a room to the right of the platform. There was a single candle burning in the room illuminating a long table and a spiral staircase that rose to the second floor. Jack grabbed the table, and we shoved it against the door. There was one other door, on the back wall that I moved to, pulling with all my strength. Pounding echoed through the room followed by splinters of wood as a large fist made a hole in the barricaded door behind us. Jack shoved me away from the door I was pulling on, unbolted the top and threw it open. We jumped through and dropped onto hard ground.

  “Run, Raven, lead them away. I am going for Pierre.” Jack ran toward the side of the house, and I ran across the lawn to the woods. I pulled my special triple barrel pistol from my pocket as I ran through the dark trees, rain droplets, and tree limbs hitting me in the face. I needed a diversion to give Jack time to rescue Pierre. I heard shouts and curses behind me as the guards were entering the woods. I stumbled over a fallen log and fell to my knees, pain shooting through my legs. Laying flat on my stomach leaning into the log, I heard the men coming closer. I was wearing all black except for the red on my mask, but I kept my face and body pressed against the log. My heart was beating like a war cry as I heard leaves rustle and twigs snap around me.

  “Spread out and find them!”

  I stayed against the log for what felt like an hour but was closer to five minutes. When I could no longer hear leaves or twigs, I pushed to my knees with my back hunched over and looked around. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark, but I could only see a few feet before my face. As branches swayed and leaves rustled, no larger figures moved. I jumped up and ran to my right, cutting to the eastern trees opposite to where the guards were heading. I kept looking over at the house to see if Jack had come out. The shadows were many as the moon broke through the clouds. I thought I saw a small man darting across the lawn. I ran along the edge of the trees so that he would know where I was.

  A large shadow jumped out from behind a tree, and I shrieked as I slammed into his chest. He grabbed my arm. I threw the barrel of my pistol against his head; my fist struck his nose, and I shoved him off, running deeper into the woods. He did not follow me that I could tell, but I was feeling skittish, and my heart felt like it would explode within my chest if I stopped. Our horses were not at all contented at being left in the rain with lightning flashing and thunder rumbling the earth. I pulled some sugar from my saddle bag and held out both my hands. Pegasus nipped it immediately, but Brutus was angry and stomping. A rustling came from behind me, and dread pulsed through my blood, danced along my arms, darted up and down my spine. I turned, raising my pistol at the dark trees.

  Jack broke through the trees. I leaned against Pegasus in profound relief. I quickly untied the reins and mounted Pegasus. Jack grabbed Brutus’s reins and climbed swiftly into the saddle.

  When we were a safe distance away from Stark Manor, I asked Jack about Pierre. His face was grim in the moonlight. “He and the white phantom were not there.”

  That was the strangest night of my life. Richard was a leader of a deadly secret society; Pierre was killed and then brought back to life, and Hannah Lamont was a black magic wielding white phantom. Life had taken a turn into lunacy.

  Chapter 10

  Bess

  1 June 1816

  Three days had passed since the Levitas meeting, and though I had sent my team to search around Stark Manor, we had not found Pierre. I briefly entertained the notion that Hannah was a witch, and Richard used black magic, but Levi, who owned an apothecary shop, was sure that if Richard poisoned Pierre, Hannah could have had an antidote that would have counteracted the poison.

  Mariah and Levi were worried about the disappearances and what they meant. Mariah told us that people were scared, and the weather was only adding to their fears. We had record lows, and there had been ice upon the ground last week. Ice in May! There were whisperings throughout the city that a supernatural deity had been made unhappy by the war and was determined to purge our great country and that the people taken were being offered as sacrifices.

  I had assigned Levi to watching Hannah’s house and reporting anything he found suspicious.

  As my mother nearly always took a tray in her chamber, and Jack had not come down yet, I ate alone in the dining parlor. When I was near to finished, Arnaud brought a letter to me. When I broke the seal and spread open the single sheet, the food I had consumed threatened to come up.

  21 May

  Elizabeth,

  This letter is to be delivered into your hands when I am gone. I have known what was ahead and what I had to face. It was my destiny, as my beautiful is yours. You must finish your journey. For your father.

  Before he died, I was working with him against the devil. Your brother was not the only one with faith. Fo
r two years, I have been carrying on in his name. Now it is your time. You must possess the knowledge which others seek for if they become knowledgeable, they will wield it against you. Many people very dear to you will suffer from their chatter. My beautiful, your key is restoration.

  Regretfully, P. Travoy

  The letter was written on the day that Pierre was captured; the day that I had met with him. I contemplated the meaning. They could only mean Levitas, as Pierre would never put their name to paper. One of the members worked at the post office. I had recognized him. My beautiful, of course, was Ma belle. The knowledge which others seek. Levitas was seeking Ma belle and the artifacts.

  Jack would know. He was good with translations. I rose from the table and took the letter with me into the library to wait for Jack.

  When he finally put in an appearance, it was mid morning, and his gait was slow. I surveyed him critically. He had gone out last night with a group of his friends.

  “Is Dudley in any better shape?” I asked.

  Jack chuckled. “I assume that Dudley is his usual robust self.”

  I handed him the letter to read. When he had read over it twice, he stood and went to the fireplace. He placed the letter before the flames, and I moved to his side. When words appeared, I dropped to my knees to read over his shoulder. Invisible ink. A mixture of iron sulfate and water, or the juice from a lemon, would create what was known as invisible ink. It had been George’s primary way of writing. It was a risk, for anyone could hold the letter up to a candle and see what was truly written between the lines, but George would say that if it worked for the Great Man, then it worked for him. George was named for President George Washington as his father had been a spy under General Washington's command during the Revolution, though he never met the man personally. When George joined my father to form the Phantoms, he prided himself that his ring of spies would be further advanced than those whom his father had served. Instead of numbers for deputy names, each deputy was called a word that could be written into any letter without the least suspicion of underlying meaning. Junto was the name of the club which my father had been a member. Fenrir was a Norse mythology about a great wolf beast. Loutaire was a combination of my grandfather’s name and his favorite word, silence.

  Words appeared on the letter where there had been none. The leader of Levitas is Richard Hamilton.

  “I wish that he would have told me when we met.”

  “That would have made our search simpler,” Jack’s expression turned grim, “but when has our job ever been uncomplicated.”

  Ma belle. A woman of means, powerful, hiding between Boston and Savannah.

  I read the last description, but then had to read it again. It said powerful sorceress with a past of darkness. One name came to mind, but I shoved it away. It could not be that simple.

  Jack tossed the letter into the flames, and we watched it until it was ash. At least we knew Pierre was alive, somewhere, and when I found him I would ask him about the contents of the letter. Until then, I would work on finding George and the remaining artifacts.

  We spoke about George and where he could be. Jack said that since it was Leo’s day of leisure, he was scouring the countryside around Stark Manor for any place that they could be keeping George.

  “What if we are wrong and the black carriage has nothing to do with Levitas?”

  “Then we have one more riddle to solve, but do not worry,” Jack laid his hand on my shoulder, “we will find George.”

  ***

  It was half past noon, and I was coming down the stairs from having changed my frock into an afternoon gown when I saw Richard. I stopped and turned, fleeing up the stairs, out of view before he noticed me. Peeking around the wall as he was let into Jack’s library, my curiosity got the best of me, and when Arnaud left the foyer I went down the stairs to the library door. It had not been shut completely, so I was able to hear what was being said.

  “Please be seated.” Jack sounded calm. “There is something I wish to discuss with you.” What could Jack possibly want to discuss with Richard? “At my sister’s party I met a vision and I understand that she is your ward.”

  Richard barked out a laugh. “My boy, it will take a strong man to tame that filly. A firebrand is what she is.”

  “Sir, I will have you know that poetry is considered a powerful weapon upon the senses.”

  Richard laughed again, but Jack interrupted him. “Could you tell me about her? Who were her family? From where does she hail?”

  It was silent for a moment before Richard said, “She is seventeen and her family is all gone. She hails from Boston, and she has recently become betrothed. So as you can see, she is not for you.”

  “To what was once my only dream, a storm has come to break the sheen,” Jack replied reverently.

  “Yes, yes,” Richard mumbled, and I nearly laughed. Relief was thrumming through me. If Miss Clark were betrothed, then Jack was safe.

  “I hear that it is to you that a man must come when seeking your sister’s hand in marriage. Surely your father, a worthy man I am sure, must have named someone older to have the final say in such a delicate decision.”

  I was startled. Why would Richard be speaking about me?

  “My father was not so gothic in his views. He knew that I would choose such a man for my sister that he would approve of.”

  “I believe I know of such a man.” Richard’s voice sounded much too cheerful. “Nicholas Mansfield. You met him at the party. He would be most suitable, and he has the means to keep her in the comfort to which she is accustomed.”

  The fiery lakes of Hell will freeze over first!

  “You may have something there.”

  My jaw slackened. Indignation coupled with outrage as I clenched my teeth. I looked through the crack in the door.

  Richard was positively gleeful as he slapped his knee and sat back. “She is not growing any younger and we must work together, as the two men in her life who have her best interests in mind, to choose wisely for her.”

  “May I ask what makes Nicholas Mansfield believe he would be a good match for my sister?”

  “He assures me that your sister was taken with him at the ball; enough to cast herself against him in the pretense of stumbling so she could garner an introduction.”

  My heart was beating wildly, my palms sweaty and aching as I dug my nails into my skin. So I had been right; he did not believe I had tripped. He thought I was after him. I shuddered. Disgusting!

  “You should bring him by one day soon.” Jack was grinning. Grinning!

  Richard laughed and said he would do that. Richard winked at Jack, “Best not to tell the ladies of our plans.”

  “I concur wholeheartedly,” Jack replied with conviction.

  Richard rose, and I leapt away from the door and ran to the dining parlor. I waited until I heard Richard leave the house before going back to the library.

  Jack was leaning his head against the sofa with his eyes focused on the ceiling. “Father forgive me for what I have done that I should strike a deal with the devil’s own son.”

  I shoved the door open, and it struck the wall. “You will have to do more than that to acquit you of such a sin, John Traitor Martin!” His head shot up.

  Every thought was black as I stood inside the doorway with my hands on my hips, seething with anger. My chest was rising and falling as I huffed in and blew out short breaths through my nose.

  Jack’s startled face and conscience-stricken eyes barely alleviated my anger. He slowly arose, his eyes never moving from my face.

  “Now, Bess, it was not at all like that. You know me. Would I honestly make a deal with the son of the devil if I did not have a good reason?”

  “I do not care what your reason,” I lied. “You betrayed me to him.”

  Jack sighed and came toward me. I stepped away from his outstretched hand, but he was reaching for the door, not for me. He closed the door, then walked back to the sofa, but he did not sit.


  “Listen, Bess, I had no intention of betraying you, but I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

  “An opportunity? Is that what I am to you? I suggest you explain.” I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

  “You know that our father told us that chances present themselves every day if we only have ears to hear. Nicholas has knowledge hidden in his house, and I needed an opportunity to search for it. You are to be that opportunity.”

  I bit my bottom lip as I thought that over. It did sound logical, and it sounded like something I would have done, as would our father. Uncrossing my arms, and moving to sit on the sofa, Jack sat beside me.

  “I am listening,” I said.

  “Richard will bring Nicholas to call on you, and you will keep both men entertained for at least an hour. Giving me enough time to ride to his house and search for the black box.”

  “An hour? That is not possible.”

  “Three quarters of an hour then. I need as long as you can give me. His house is only two roads from here, but I will need time to get inside and search.” Jack waited silently even though he knew I would never give up such an opportunity.

  “I will try to keep them here as long as I can, but you must be swift. Half an hour is the correct time for a call, and I am not sure I could keep them here longer.”

  Jack smiled and squeezed my shoulder with that brotherly affection that said he appreciated me.

  My mother came in a few minutes later, and by the look on Jack’s face; I could tell that he wanted to speak to her about Richard.

  Rising, Jack told her that he was glad to see her as there was something rather important that we needed to tell her.

  “This sounds intriguing,” Mother said with a smile.

  “It is about Richard.”

  Her smile wilted as she looked from Jack to me.