Phantoms In Philadelphia

by Amalie Vantana

  My ride home was spent in thought, about Guinevere and the adventures we could have after I removed her from Richard’s clutches. With my new fortune, we could go anywhere, do anything. She would never have to worry, would never be used for others gain. I would protect her; cherish her as she deserves.

  When I arrived home, my mind was occupied with thoughts of Guinevere, and I did not notice Leo until after I had stripped off my gloves and laid them with my hat on the table. One look at his face and I was on my guard.

  “What is amiss?”

  “Here, John,” a man’s voice said from my library, and a cold feeling swept over me.

  My hands balled into fists at my sides as I stomped into my library. “Frederick.”

  Frederick was lounging on the sofa with a cigar sticking out of his mouth and a book in his lap. He blew a cloud of smoke toward me. “A fine home you have, my friend. Fine indeed.”

  Every ounce of me wanted to grab Frederick by his throat and escort him, none too kindly, from my house, but I resisted. “You do not know how relieved I am that you approve.” I cut the pleasantries. “What are you doing here?”

  Frederick smirked at me. “Why, did you not know that your sister sent for me? Yes, indeed she did. Said she required my assistance in the capture of Levitas.” Frederick looked pleased over that.

  No wonder Bess agreed to Monroe’s suggestion to send for Frederick. She had already done so. “What are you doing in my house?”

  Frederick laughed and took another puff on his cigar. Leaning his head back, he blew a circle of smoke in front of him. “I understand that you have not yet located George.”

  The smile that touched my lips was more a sneer. “But we have. We received word from one of our informant that he was found in New York. Safe and alive.”

  Frederick stared at me, but there was no amusement left in his eyes. “Rowland?”

  I nodded. Freddy sprang up suddenly from the sofa. “Jack, Rowland has been dead a year.”

  No! That would mean...

  “You have been duped, my friend. George is still a captive.”

  Chapter 29

  Bess

  When Mother and I first arrived in the country, I thought monotony would be my lot, but for the last two days, Jericho and I had been riding out to watch Stark Manor. I had a feeling that I could not shake. The only connections between all the stories of the disappearances was the carriage and the direction that it left the city. Somewhere around Stark Manor there had to be a place where they were keeping the people they snatched. Unless they were dead, but I would not believe that. It would serve no purpose. From what Leo could discover every person taken owed money, or their family did, to Richard. Surely ransom would be the course he would take.

  Jericho and I had searched all over the property, but found no place where those people could be kept. We had searched Stark Manor before and found no clues, but I was sure they had to be there somewhere.

  We were across the road from Stark Manor, lying on our bellies in the middle of the woods, and I had my mother’s opera glasses up, patrolling the area, when a rider came into view.

  As soon as I saw the auburn hair, I smiled. Guinevere did not stop at Stark; she rode past without a care in the world. Jericho and I were on our feet and mounted within seconds. We stayed hidden in the trees until she turned off the road, cutting through the woods ahead of us. She had not seen us, and she did not look around as she rode deeper into the trees until she was half a mile from my mother’s house.

  What she could possibly be doing was not clear until a small cottage with smoke coming from a chimney came into view. There were trees all around, but the weather had stripped many of their leaves, so seeing Guinevere stop outside the cottage was simple, even from a distance.

  We left our horses and moved ahead on foot as she knocked on the door. It opened, and a large man with a pockmarked face stepped out, followed by George.

  Sucking in a quick breath, relief and disbelief tumbled in me. Jericho looked as astonished. George was pushed down to a wooden bench that was against the front of the cottage and Guinevere spoke to him. She was wearing her cloak and mask, but now that I knew who she was, I could see it in the way she walked, and held herself. We were fools ever to have thought that she was Hannah.

  Guinevere looked over her shoulder, straight to where we were hiding, and smiled. She knew we were there.

  “You get George, I will handle her,” I said to Jericho, who took out his pistol, aimed, and shot the man standing over George.

  Guinevere lifted her skirt and ran, disappearing through the trees at the back of the cottage. I followed; my heart pounding as I pushed myself hard. Knocking my way through the low branches, I came upon a clearing. She was waiting for me.

  “Raven, I have been awaiting this moment for some time.”

  “No more than I,” I said in a growl.

  Pushing off the balls of my feet, I ran at her, keeping my fists up to guard my face as she threw a punch. I tackled her to the ground, and she threw her foot against my stomach. My fist hit her jaw, but not hard as her hands were flying all over, pulling at my coat, my hat, whatever she could grab. She ripped off my mask before throwing her head against mine. The pain was sudden as black spots danced before my vision. I rolled off of her as we both rubbed our foreheads. The world above me spun, but I tried to ignore it as I reached over, grabbing her hood. She jerked away from my hand, and her hood came off, her hair along with it.

  So that is it.

  Her hair was ebony, not red. She scurried to her feet, but my hand flew out and caught her leg. I wrapped my arm around it, pulling her down. She turned and threw her fist against my left eye. Pain shot through my eye and down my cheek. I saw more black spots floating around joined by white ones, but I kept my hold on her leg even as she pulled my hat from my head. My hair was tied back, but pieces of it were loose and hung around my face. I slammed my fist into her side. She bent over me with a groan. My hand grabbed her hair, wrapping it in my fist, and pulled her head toward me, but then froze as the barrel of her pistol met my temple. I released my fingers one by one from her hair. She stumbled back. Her left hand held the pistol out before her without shaking, but her right hand wrapped around her side where I had struck her, and she winced. I pushed to my feet, facing her.

  “Let us finish this. I know you, and you know me,” Guinevere said as she held her side.

  “What do you plan to do with your knowledge?” I asked in my own voice. What was the point in pretense now?

  “What do you plan to do with yours?” she retorted, as her smug smile dawned.

  “Shoot me. We waste time talking.” I held my back straight, ready to take what she dealt out.

  “I do not want to shoot you, Raven,” there was true regret in her voice, “I want to pretend like this never happened, but alas I cannot, and neither will you.”

  “It appears we are at a standstill,” I said, crossing my arms. The action sent aches dancing along my shoulders and down my back.

  “No, indeed, for I have an offer to make you.” I raised my brows, and her smile turned frightening. No one who knew her would ever suspect that her lovely purplish eyes could look so deadly. “I will keep my knowledge to myself in exchange for you doing the same.”

  I released a harsh laugh. “Why would I do that?”

  “Because the moment you speak against me is the moment I speak against you.”

  She had me backed into a corner, so I did the only thing open to me. I agreed. When Jericho’s voice yelled for me, Guinevere grabbed her wig and backed away before disappearing through the trees.

  My pain hit me like a whip’s lash, and I sagged forward as Jericho burst into the open.

  “Raven, are you well?” he asked as he came up beside me. When I looked up at him and nodded, he winced. “Loutaire will not be pleased when he sees your face.”

  “Is it that noticeable?”

  Jericho grimaced. “You look like you engaged in a battle w
ith a horse, and the horse won.”

  “Nearly. Where is George?” Jericho nodded toward the trees, then gave me my mask and helped me to walk back to the cottage.

  George was waiting for us, and when I reached him, he put a hand to my cheek, searching my face. “My dear Raven, are you well?”

  I fought back tears. The relief in knowing he was safe brought me close to the edge of hysterics. “I should be asking you that,” I whispered, as I laid my hand over his. Tears were clogging my throat.

  George’s bushy eyebrows lowered in a scowl. His white hair at the sides of his head, as the top was bald, was puffed out and sticking in all directions. He had a faint, greenish-yellow bruise beneath his right eye, but all else looked unharmed. “They did not harm me other than a fist to my eye when I tried to escape.”

  Smiling caused pain my eye to hurt.

  George had always wanted to be a spy, ever since he was a lad and helped his father, a Culper spy during the Revolutionary war, to thwart a message being passed to the enemy. The way George told the story to us it was his doing that turned the tide of the war and brought down the enemy.

  Jericho and I escorted George to my mother’s country house where we found Jack waiting for us. He was pacing outside the front door as we rode up. Jericho, whom I was riding with, helped me down as Jack ran forward. He had not yet noticed who was riding Pegasus. He grabbed my shoulders, and I cringed as pain shot down my back. Jack released me immediately. His gaze met George’s and widened in amazement.

  “John, it does my eyes good to see you.”

  It took Jack a moment to snap out of his astonishment, but he met George’s hand and clapped his other hand around George’s arm. “I am so relieved to see you safe, George. Pray, come into the house.”

  I walked with Jack and George into the house as Jericho went to stable our horses.

  When my mother saw me, she shrieked and ran to me. She reached out to touch the skin around my eye, but I jerked away. Jack gently laid his hand on my shoulder as he led me into the library. Mother and George followed, and once Jericho, Mariah, and Leo had joined us, George told us what had happened.

  He was in his carriage on the way to Baltimore to take a ship to Charleston to visit his nephew, when he was captured. The mention of Joutaine brought our encounter back to my mind. I bit my lip and shoved away thoughts of that kiss that made my stomach flip in an annoying way.

  George turned to my mother. “I wonder, my dear Nell, could you ask your cook to make me something decent to eat? I have been fed nothing substantial in weeks.” When Mother was out of the room we questioned him more closely.

  “Was it Levitas?” Jack asked.

  “Yes, though, I never once saw Richard Hamilton. It was always Nicholas Mansfield and that chit.”

  George had nothing flattering to say about Guinevere. He did not know who she was. One look at Jack’s mutinous face kept my mouth sealed shut. That and what Guinevere had said to me in the clearing. I would not be the first to break our agreement.

  Jack and I told George about what had been happening since he was gone. He was outraged when he heard about my mother’s betrothal. Not only because Richard was a villain, but I suspected that George had deep feelings for my mother.

  When we spoke of the artifacts, George grew anxious. He wanted them turned over to him immediately. The way his brown eyes stared at us made me feel uneasy. There was wildness to his eyes, like he knew what the artifacts did, and he wanted the power. It was ridiculous to think of George in such a way, but I could not shake the feeling.

  “I will be keeping the artifacts for the time being.” All eyes turned to me.

  “That is not your call, Raven,” George barked out. My team stiffened.

  “On the contrary, it is my call. As the leader of this team, I decide what is best—as my father directed.”

  George openly glared at me. He hated the fact that a woman was the leader of our team. He thought it should have been him or Jack, or even Levi would have been preferable to me. The subject turned to what our plans were, and when we told George about the attempts against Monroe, he was furious. He was a little relieved when Jack said that the Washington Phantoms had arrived. Jack tossed me a look that promised a discussion later. Then, we told George what we needed from him. After we had laid our plans before him, he rose.

  “I will do my part and we will meet at my house in four days’ time.” My mother came to tell him that food had been laid in the dining parlor. When everyone else left but Jack, he looked me over.

  “It is not as terrible as I first thought, but you will have a black eye.”

  Oh, the joy.

  ***

  Three days had passed since rescuing George, and neither Jack nor my mother would let me leave the house due to the state of my face. I had a scratch across my right cheek, and my left eye had a black circle around it.

  Jack came to me last night to tell me that he had gotten George to tell him about Guinevere. She had only come to see him after Nicholas could get nothing from him. She assured him that he would not be harmed. There was always a man there to guard him, but they never hurt him other than when he tried to escape. They provided food and books for him to read, but they would not tell him what they were going to do with him. Then, Guinevere arrived with the news that he would be moved soon, and that was when we attacked.

  I had told Jack a short version of the truth, leaving out my little chat with Guinevere. Jack was displeased, and he did not want me to go anywhere out of the house without him, Leo, or Jericho. There would be no more rides through the woods where Levitas could attack, and Jack was going to stay with me until he was convinced I was safe.

  As I went downstairs to partake of breakfast, I found my mother and Jack there before me. Mother cringed when she saw my face, the same as she had done every day since it happened, but there was nothing I could do, and I was not going to hide in my chamber until my eye healed.

  I had only just sat down and taken a bite of food when Arnaud entered the room and announced, “Mr. Madison has called to see Miss Elizabeth. I have shown him into the parlor.”

  We turned to stare at Arnaud. Andrew? In the house? I could not believe it to be so. When he stared back impassively, I rose in one swift motion, my hand moving to my hair and my eye as I stared at the door. The pain assaulting me was stealing my ability to breathe.

  “She will be there directly,” Mother said for me.

  Arnaud bowed out of the room, and once the door shut, Jack laughed. “He has come again.” He sounded too triumphant, but I could not find the words to ask what he knew. I looked from Jack to the door, but could not get my legs to move. What was I going to do? I could not allow him to see me with a black eye.

  Mother walked around the table to me. After securing some loose strands of my hair in place, she placed a hand on my shoulder. “We know not why he has come.”

  “Oh, yes we do,” Jack retorted but was ignored.

  “He could simply be paying a morning call. Go to him. Act yourself and all will be right.”

  I looked at the door again. “What of my eye? I cannot allow him to see me like this.”

  “Tell him a horse kicked you,” Jack instructed unhelpfully.

  “You must decide what you want him to know. Now, courage my daughter.” She gave me a little push, and my legs finally moved.

  Outside the parlor door, I gave my skirt a shake, took one deep breath, and opened the door. Andrew was standing by the window but turned smiling—until he saw my eye. The smile faded and within a few heartbeats he was before me. His hand came up to cup my cheek. My eyes closed as a dull ache that had been my constant companion since the moment he left, melted away.

  “My darling, what has happened?”

  Tears burned my eyes, but I would not allow them to fall. Slowly, I met his gaze. As I searched his eyes, they told me everything I needed to know.

  “I had an accident, but it is nothing serious,” I said though my voice was deeper t
han usual. I could not take my gaze from his.

  He smiled intimately, and I was lost. His head lowered; then his warm lips touched mine ever so lightly, like the first stroke of a brush against a canvas.

  He pulled back, clearing his throat. “I am going about this all wrong.” He smiled sheepishly. “I had it all worked out. Come.” He led me to the sofa. Once I was seated, he knelt down before me, and I had to bite my lip and focus on Andrew to keep the burning tears from falling. All that was going through my mind was this could not be happening to me.

  “I owe you an apology, Elizabeth.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes, one that is long overdue. I believed a lie, which, in my blind folly, led me away from your side. The more distance separated us, the more convinced I was that by your side is where I belong. Now and always. Can you ever forgive me for being a fool? For leaving you without a word, and treating you with such disregard?”

  Jack had told me about General Harvey, and in a way, I could understand why Andrew believed him. General Harvey was known to be a friend of my family. If anyone would know, it would be he.

  “You have my forgiveness, Andrew.” I thought he might kiss me again, but he only breathed a long sigh before kissing my hand.

  “You have lifted a great burden from my heart, as your brother did when he granted his permission that I may try to win you.” Andrew took both my hands in his, and then, after a few focusing breaths, said, “Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, men were deceivers ever; one foot in the sea and one on shore, to one thing constant never.”

  Sweet saints above.

  “Then sigh not so, but let them go, and be you blithe and bonny, converting all your sounds of woe into Hey nonny, nonny.”

  He would not dare. Oh, but he would and he had. Wait until I get my hands around Jack’s neck!

  “Sing no more ditties, sing no more of dumps so dull and heavy; the fraud of men was ever so, since summer first was leavy. Then sigh not so, but let them go, and be you blithe and bonny, converting all your sounds of woe, into Hey nonny, nonny.” Andrew ended and raised my hand to his lips.