Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1)

  ***

  At one that afternoon, we were standing on the brick sidewalk before Miss Clark’s house on Pine Street. It was a two story row house like all the other houses in the neighborhood; shabby genteel and not at all the kind of house that most members of society lived in. From the happy look on Jack’s face, it mattered naught to him where she lived as long as she allowed him to visit her. He was smiling up at the second story windows. I followed his gaze and saw a flash of auburn hair move away from the window.

  Jack used the small brass knocker to sound our arrival. I hunched down into my long coat as a cold wind whipped against us. May had been unusually frosty this year.

  After only a moment, the door swung open, and Miss Clark’s chaperone stood there smiling at us. “Welcome, Mr. and Miss Martin. Please come this way.”

  Jack followed the woman, but I moved slower, examining the foyer. It was narrow enough that I could have touched both walls by stretching out my arms. There were three doors that led off the foyer and a narrow staircase. The stout woman never offered to take our hats or gloves before she bustled out of the parlor with the promise to fetch Miss Clark, and wiggled up the stairs

  “Well, she is certainly an oddity,” I said, watching until the woman disappeared from my sight.

  Jack was not paying the slightest heed to me. His eyes were fixed on the stairs.

  The parlor was a small square room with bare walls and little furniture. The small fire burning in the grate was the only thing to make the room quaint.

  Voices floated down the stairs, the deep voice of the stout woman, then a melodious sound that could only be Miss Clark. Hearing her voice, Jack sighed, and I stared at him agape. I wanted to slap some common sense into him. What was there about her that could possibly make him sigh? It was so out of character for him that I briefly entertained the notion that he had been bewitched.

  As she entered the parlor, she was smiling at Jack as if it had been longer than last night that she had seen him. For a painfully awkward moment, they would only gaze at each other. I cleared my throat.

  Miss Clark was the first to look away. “Martha should have taken your hats. I do apologize.”

  Jack had his off in seconds, holding it out to her, but I removed mine with more decorum. She asked us to be seated. There were only two chairs and one sofa in the small parlor, so I sat beside Miss Clark while Jack angled his chair to face us.

  Their eyes locked again, and I was forgotten. I allowed this to go on for a full minute, but no more.

  “Miss Clark, is Martha your guardian?”

  She was not in the least shamefaced about ignoring me to stare at my brother when her eyes met mine. “Oh, no, Martha is my chaperone. My guardian does not yet have a house in the city, so I am living here with Martha until he acquires one.”

  Her words brought a memory back to me, of a different person saying something similar.

  “In truth, my guardian is Richard,” she said.

  Jack’s eyes widened, but he did not take his worshipful gaze from her. My chest grew tightly. It was as I feared. This delightful girl was going to steal my brother’s heart. Especially now that we were in a way connected.

  “I am surprised that he did not tell you himself. He may not have wanted it known. I give him plenty of trouble; I assure you.”

  I do believe that. “Well, this is unexpected,” I said, but I was not heeded.

  What was it with those two that made them want to gaze longingly into each other’s eyes? It was enough to make one sick, or vexed.

  When Miss Clark finally looked at me, she said, “I have heard that you are a great horsewoman, Miss Martin. Perhaps when we take that ride, we could pit our skills against one another.”

  “Perhaps we shall, Miss Clark, but I assure you that my skill has been exaggerated. I am nothing above average.”

  “Can we count on you to join us, Mr. Martin?”

  The look she cast Jack was full of the right amount of pleading without looking ridiculous. I was beginning to believe she had bewitched him, and when he agreed, I knew it for truth. It was known that Jack did not like to ride, another mask to hide the truth, but one that protected our secret. This was not something I could agree with, but I would save that for home.

  Jack and Miss Clark began to converse easily, about books of all things, when I thought to ask, “Miss Clark, do you know Mr. Mansfield well?”

  Jack scowled at me, but Miss Clark replied, “Unfortunately, yes.” She made a face of dislike. “He was the captain of one of Richard’s merchant ships until recently. Why he has moved to Philadelphia, I do not know. I would have thought he would have gone home to England.”

  “England?” I asked with great interest.

  “His mother owns a theater or some such thing, and Mr. Mansfield was known to tread the boards before joining the fight.”

  “He fought for the British?” Jack asked, doing a convincing job of sounding incredulous. It was humorous considering that we were born in England.

  “As I said, unfortunately, yes. He defected at the end when the fighting is nearly over.”

  “You are forthright,” I said with a laugh.

  She inclined her head. “A rule that I live by.”

  When half an hour was coming to an end, we rose to take our leave. As she walked us to the front door, she mentioned riding again.

  “What day do you suggest?" I asked kindly.

  “At the moment, I am unsure. Shall I let you know?”

  “Please do. We look forward to it. Do we not, John?”

  “Indeed we do,” he said as he bowed.

  We left the house, and as our carriage had not yet returned, we decided to walk down the street together. We had reached the street corner when we heard a man shout from behind us.

  “What do you mean she will not see me?”

  I looked over my shoulder then turned completely around. Nicholas Mansfield was standing before Miss Clark’s door facing Martha. I could not hear her reply, but she started to close the door in his face. I half expected him to shove his way into the house, but he did not. Grabbing Jack’s arm, we turned so that our backs were to him as he marched toward us. He passed us without a look and crossed the street. I waited until he was half down the next row of houses before following.

  “What do you think you are doing?” Jack demanded.

  “Pursuing. Now come along,” I said, picking up my pace.

  Nicholas walked toward the river and turned down Front Street. I looked over at Jack. Jack was not at all surprised.

  Nicholas turned down an alley that led to a row of bandbox houses, and we stopped at the corner. Nicholas pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, placed it over his nose and mouth, then tapped on the door with the end of his walking stick. When the door opened, he went in. I did not wait for Jack, but moved down the alley, hunching low to move beneath the window and then rose to my full height. I leaned against the front of the house beside the door. Jack came up beside me shaking his head in amusement. Even dressed as I was to make morning calls, in a white gown, and long blue pelisse fastened tight to protect me from the cold, I was not above venturing into the unsavory parts of the city if it would provide useful information.

  “Leave it open. I will not remain long,” Nicholas said to someone inside. The door was left open, and we listened as Nicholas told someone he had come for the dolk af hemmeligheder. Nicholas knew Danish? Dolk af hemmeligheder meant dagger of secrets. An artifact, surely.

  “What,” Nicholas shouted, and I jumped a little. I glanced at my brother, but he had sucked in his bottom lip as he always did when he was trying to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Give me that!” A moment passed then Nicholas ground out, “You fool! That is the sign of the Phantoms. When last did you see the dagger?”

  For a moment, I was sure that they were mistaken, for I had not been to this house before. It dawned on me like rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds. Jack.

  A deep voice rum
bled, but I could not tell what he said.

  “It is a good thing then that I have the box, lest you allow them to steal that as well.” Another rumbling sounded, but Nicholas cut him off. “I do not care what you have to say. Be prepared to meet me on the morrow at Stark Manor for the meeting. As the new lord of Levitas, your negligence shall be dealt with accordingly.”

  We moved away from the house in a low, swift run. Nicholas was the new lord of Levitas was he? Well, we would have to see what we could do to disrupt his plans, and we now knew who held the black box.

  “Jack, how did the mark of the Phantoms come to be in that house?”

  “Not here,” he whispered, so I remained silent for the walk home.

  Once we were in his library, and the door was closed, he unlocked a drawer in his desk. My father had built both Jack’s desk and mine in my bedchamber. They were each filled with secret compartments, but Jack’s desk was larger. He pulled a dagger from one of the drawers. It was the same dagger that had been in the Levitas book. Dolk af hemmeligheder was what Nicholas had called it.

  “Levi came to tell me that he had found the giant. He, Leo and I paid a call and found this lovely piece of craftsmanship,” Jack explained as he admired the dagger.

  The hilt was, upon close inspection, pure gold, and the thick blade was engraved in the center with an eagle perched on the top of a throne. Above it were the words Min Herre, min Konge.

  “My Lord, my King,” Jack whispered almost reverently. We did not know what the significance of the dagger was but holding it I had the feeling I was staring at something important.

  “That was the giant’s house? He works for Levitas?”

  “So it appears. His name is Dimitri, and I am told that he frightens children,” Jack said.

  I shuddered, touching my neck where the marks from his large hand had faded. “Not only children. He frightens me.”

  Jack was too absorbed in thought to pay heed to my words. “What did the letter from Hannah say?”

  “It was an invitation to a party at her house. One of those sordid affairs,” I said pointedly for I knew Jack had attended a few of those parties.

  Jack locked the dagger back in his desk. “According to the Levitas book, all meetings begin at nine. I saw Nicholas giving the coded handshake to several of the men, Mr. Knowlton included.”

  “Ephraim’s father? Well, Mrs. Knowlton has complained about her husband a number of times to our mother.”

  “Now we know the date and location, though I have never heard of Stark Manor,” Jack said, moving to his wall of bookshelves to retrieve a book.

  Nor had I, but I knew that Leo would know. Leo was not only a member of our team but was Jack’s valet and spent his free days exploring the countryside.

  “Should we assemble our team?” Jack asked over his shoulder.

  The giant, the black carriage, Pierre’s capture, the men who had murdered Ben, and now the artifacts; they were all tied to Levitas. Freddy had described the black carriage as being the one to capture George, but thus far, the only information that we had learned was that his servants thought he was on a trip to visit his nephew in Charleston. If Levitas had snatched him, then his servants would surely have known. His servants were as close as our own. We had to find George, but if he were with us, he would tell us that Levitas was most important. I had a strange feeling though that if we took Levitas, we would find George.

  “No. I believe that you and I should see what this is all about first.” Then could we move in with the aid of our friends who were constables and watchmen and destroy their traitorous society as my father had wanted. “But, Jack,” he looked over his shoulder again, “this time we go together.”

  Chapter 9

  Bess