Phantoms In Philadelphia (Phantom Knights Book 1)

Jack

  At ten in the morning, Bess and I were meeting with James Monroe in my library. Bess was explaining about the carriage at the seminary, the assassins that we had captured, and the drink that was meant for him. Turned out it was a sleeping draught and not poison, but that was not reassuring.

  “What is your next course of action?” James demanded; his blue eyes the closest to shooting sparks as I had ever seen.

  “We have guards in place to escort you from the city, sir, and they will stay with you until this threat is eliminated,” Bess assured him.

  James sat in deep contemplation for many minutes, his chin resting on his hand. There were three creased lines on his forehead as he scowled at my rug. His face cleared, and a small smile tilted up the corners of his lips. “I do believe that I have a strategy that might work.”

  James relayed his idea, and all Bess or I could do was gawk. It was outrageous enough to be both brilliant and simple to make work.

  “One outburst, one step out of line, and not only will your names be known, but many people could lose their lives. You must proceed with caution,” James said to me, and then looked purposefully toward Bess. “I believe it is time to call upon the Washington Phantoms. You shall require much help in the coming task.”

  “I agree,” Bess said, without looking at me.

  A few minutes later, I escorted James to his carriage and said my farewells. He was leaving the city immediately. There were two burly men seated on the box as the carriage pulled away, and I knew James would be safe with them.

  When I reentered the house, Bess was pulling on her gloves while Leo held her bonnet.

  “I will be moving out to the country house tonight,” I assured Bess. Before James had arrived, she told me about Nicholas and Guinevere watching her from the window. I did not suspect that they would strike against Bess, but I wanted to be near her all the same.

  Jericho came in to tell Bess her horse was at the door. Leo and I watched them ride away. Once they were out of sight, I informed Leo that I wanted him to accompany me as I had some purchases to make before leaving for the country house.

  As we rode, my thoughts went to Guinevere, and thinking about her made me smile. One acquainted with my situation would think it would be Richard’s drinking his own potion that caused my smile, but it was not. Guinevere’s reaction when I gave her the ring, her worried brow as she watched me sip the champagne, and I will never forget her actions when Richard partook of the tampered glass. Pulling me away as she did, I saw a new side—a different side—a side that I could like very much. She was firm but with the right amount of sweetness.

  No other woman of my acquaintance would ever consider taking a man, their intended or not, into a dimly lit hall and pressing him against the wall to kiss him nearly senseless. What a woman she was. There was still the question lurking in the back of my mind of why she did it. There was some ulterior motive behind her actions.

  Leo and I were riding down Walnut when he said, “Is that not your lady?”

  Startled, I looked down the street, and sure enough, there was Guinevere. She was walking alone and did not see us as she stepped up to Richard’s house and disappeared inside. With all possible haste, I needed to get in there. We rode past, to the end of the street where we stopped. After pulling my mask from my pocket, I gave the reins of my horse to Leo.

  “See to my purchases for me. I will meet you at the house later.”

  At the back of Richard’s house, I looked around the alley before stepping up to the only door. Few houses in this city had the luxury of not being built right against another house. Even ours, though large and elegant, had a house on either side. Richard’s had an empty lot with grass on one side and a house that was separated by a narrow passage on the other.

  There were two windows raised high beyond the back door, and that was to be my way in. I could not go through the door, for one of the servants would surely see me.

  Jumping up and reaching the ledge of the window, I pulled myself up enough to see into the room. It was the dining parlor. Good fortune was mine, for the door into the foyer was closed. I put one foot on the door knob of the back door but held most of my weight in my arms on the ledge.

  Sending up a silent prayer, my fingers tried to open the window. It budged, so I opened it slowly and pushed my foot off the door knob, grabbing inside the window to pull myself up. My coat ripped in the shoulder, but I did not give it a second thought. Once in the room, I gently closed the window, paused to put on my mask, then eased open the door enough to see into the foyer. It was empty in all directions, so I stepped out. Thankfully, Richard had the floor covered with a rug, so my shoes made no sound.

  Voices were coming from behind the closed parlor door. Looking around the wide foyer, I saw a key sticking from the lock to the servants’ hall. It would not do for someone to come into the foyer and see me, so I locked the door and pocketed the key. Turning, ready to listen at the parlor door, the stairs to my left creaked.

  Darting behind the staircase, and leaning against the wall of the stairs, I looked around the corner. It was not a servant.

  A man with a gun in hand was heading for the parlor, and by the way he was slinking, he was not there by invitation. I looked around quickly, but found nothing to use as a weapon other than my pocket pistol. Unfortunately, it would make too much commotion. I had a decision to make; I could charge him, and risk Richard coming into the foyer, or I could get him to follow me.

  Stepping out from behind the stairs, I cleared my throat softly. The man jerked up from his crouched position, and I ran into the dining parlor. There was a sideboard with two silver candlesticks. I grabbed one and turned the heavy side up as I hid behind the door. He followed me in without check.

  Fool. I attacked, hitting him on the back of the head with the candlestick. He tried to turn. I hit him again. He dropped his gun, but thanking the heavens it did not go off. He fell toward the end of the dining table, but I caught him around the waist before he could make any noise. I lowered him to the floor and watched for a sign of life. He was breathing, but his head was bleeding. I reached in my pocket, pulled out a black feather, tucked it into the front of the man’s stained shirt, picked up the man’s pistol, and went to the parlor door to listen at the keyhole.

  “What were you thinking, putting a sleeping draught where poison should be?” Richard’s voice was terse.

  “It was an honest mistake. I must have grabbed the wrong vial. But it no longer matters.” Guinevere sounded smug.

  “Are you certain that John had nothing to do with this?”

  “We have been through this. John had nothing to do with it. You should have been paying closer attention,” Guinevere snapped.

  “Be careful in choosing your next words, my dear,” Richard warned; a clear threat in his dropped tone.

  “Let us not argue about this any longer. Let us instead discuss what next to do.”

  Yes, do discuss your next course of action.

  “You need not worry about that. I have someone working on the coup de grâce.”

  “Indeed?” Guinevere asked, and I could hear the curiosity in her voice.

  “Yes, and I do believe it will be my crowning achievement. Something the Holy Order wants more than the artifacts.”

  According to the letter from Pierre, the artifacts belonged to the Holy Order. It was only natural that they would want them returned, but Richard had other plans.

  “You know what they want. You have been given your orders, though they will not be happy when they learn of this turn of events.”

  “Do not threaten me! You are equally to blame. I have a mind to deliver you to the Holy Order and let them deal with you as you deserve,” Richard retorted loudly.

  “I have done everything that you have demanded of me, so if you do not mind, ring for the butler. I wish to leave.”

  Richard laughed, and I felt something sinister creep up my neck. “Rather high, are we? I will have you know that we are alon
e in the house. I sent my servants off. I could not have them listening at the keyhole, now could I.”

  Rat!

  “I suggest that you stay where you are,” Guinevere said, calmly.

  “Put that toy away. You will not harm me. We need each other.”

  “No,” Guinevere retorted with a definite sneer, “the only thing I need is to rid the world of vermin such as you. I have known that since the moment I met you.” Her voice paused, and I waited for what I hoped was coming. “I will not do so today, however, but hear me well, Richard Hamilton, the day is coming when you will have no say whatsoever in my actions.”

  There was a swish to her skirts, so I bolted away from the door and back into the dining parlor. I closed the door until there was only a crack, and I watched her leave the house. Closing the door the rest of the way, I set the servants’ door key on the table, and left through the same window that I had entered through.

  On my walk home, I worked through what I had heard. Richard was after the artifacts for the Holy Order, Guinevere, it seemed, knew the Holy Order personally, Richard sent all of his servants away from his house, but a man with a gun was there. Was he after Richard or Guinevere? Knowing Richard, there could only be one answer, and that knowledge sealed my fate. I would extricate Guinevere from Richard and Levitas, and then I would have her tell me all about the Holy Order.

  When I arrived home Leo, was busily packing my trunks.

  “Richard Hamilton is the lowest form of vermin,” I said, using Guinevere’s apt word for him. “He had the audacity to try to murder his own ward.” Leo’s face drained of all color. Odd that, but I was too angry to dwell on it. “Did you get the parcel that I ordered?” Leo went out without a word. When he returned, he was holding a narrow box. “I must go to see Guinevere, and when I return, I have some letters to write, but then, we will set out.”