Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1)
Page 41
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I tried convincing myself that I hated Guinevere, that I wanted nothing to do with her. She had lied; she had deceived, she had murdered, and she had shot me, though she could have hit me if she had wanted to, but instead she aimed so that the ball would graze me. How could I hate someone and love them at the same time? I used to mock the poets who wrote of love and hate like the two went together, but here I was, stuck in the middle of an emotional shipwreck. I considered taking myself off the mission and allowing someone else to capture her, for a moment. Thoughts of Bess calling in Frederick for help, of Frederick being near Guinevere, touching her at all, even in capture, made me want to ride to Washington and throttle him. No, I had to keep on, but I did not know if I would be strong enough to capture her when the time came.
Leo was clearing the dishes from breakfast when a knock echoed through the foyer. I walked into the foyer as Leo opened the door. When Richard entered, I had no notion what he could possibly want with me. We had hardly spoken three sentences to each other since he had warned me away from Guinevere.
When we were alone in the library, Richard spoke. “As a guardian, I have only ever wanted what was best for my ward. I did not believe that you could provide for her in the way in which she is accustomed.”
Indeed? I had seen her humble dwellings. My house was a castle compared to where she lived, which was another strike against Richard. I had been inside Richard’s two story mansion. While he lived in elegance, his ward lived in a shabby house surrounded by ungenteel folk.
“My Nell informs me that you have nearly gone mad with grief over my decision to keep you and Guinevere apart. So with much consideration, I have decided to retract my judgment, and you may marry my ward. You must wait until after September of course, but October is a fine month to be wed.”
My nose started to burn, and my eyes watered, clouding my vision. My gut clenched and the pain that was washing over me was nearly unbearable. I still loved Guinevere to the depths of my soul. Two weeks ago, Richard’s words would have made me the happiest man alive, but now I could no more marry Guinevere than I could allow my mother to marry Richard.
“I expected, at the least, some show of joy,” Richard said when I did not respond. “If you are thinking that Guinevere may reject you, you are far off. She assures me that there is an understanding between you.”
“She said that?” I asked, keeping all emotion from my voice, but the emotions in my mind and heart were plenty.
“That and much more. She is a volatile, headstrong girl who requires a man with a strong guiding hand, but alas, her heart is set on you. We must make the best of the situation.”
The best of the situation. The best of the situation. In that moment, as the words echoed through my thoughts, I realized what I must do, what my father would demand that I do. I must marry Guinevere, or at least act as if I would do so. I could almost hear my father’s voice.
Ingratiate yourself into her affections. Make her yours in every sense, and she will tell you anything that you want to know. This is your job, Jack, now do it.
“Why now?” my voice came out harsh.
Richard leaned back surveying me through drooping lids as if he were tired of my presence. “Your newly acquired fortune and the fact that by marrying my ward you will be providing your sister with a place to reside.” When I looked askance he sighed. “As your sister is not to marry, she will need someplace to live.” Richard chuckled, and my brows snapped together. I did not see any humor in that. “It is a fine joke, that only days after Andrew Madison deserts your sister, thinking her a fortune hunter, she acquires a fortune making her the wealthiest heiress in town.”
“Where did you hear that Andrew left for that reason?” I asked sharply, feeling as if the room were spinning.
“Why, I had it from Harvey last evening. Seems someone filled Madison’s head with rubbish, and he believed it, more fool him.” Richard chuckled again, then leaned forward. “Once you marry my ward, she may play the role of chaperone until Elizabeth finds a man who will marry her.”
Shooting him would be too easy a death. He deserved to suffer. To be thrown into a cell with mice attacking him when the sun went down and putrid smells imbedding in his nose.