Secrets In Savannah (Phantom Knights) (12 page)

“No, I will be—”

“I am going,
Jack.” She stood waiting, uncompromising, and as stubborn as always.

I eyed her for a
moment, trying to think of a way to deny her, but I knew that she would follow
me regardless. There was a narrow gap between George’s house and his neighbor’s
house. Usually a door could be found if houses were not built upon their
neighbor’s as houses had been in Philadelphia.

At the back
door, I stepped up to it, pulling out a black pin from my coat pocket. The door
lock was an aged one that looked as if it had not been changed in the last
eight years.

In our training,
we had learned how to pick almost any locks in under a minute. Leo was the
quickest, but Bess would say she was almost as swift. I allowed her to believe that,
though to be sure I was second to Leo.

When I got the
door unlocked, for the lock and handle nearly fell off into my hands, I rose to
open the door.

“Good work,”
Guinevere said as she moved past me. “You were nearly as swift as I am with
locks.”

All was silent,
and the door led to a staircase. There was a light shining underneath the door
at the bottom, and there was a smell of something burning. Guinevere fairly ran
down the stairs then paused at the door just long enough to pull her dagger
pistol from her belt. I reached her as she twisted the doorknob and stepped
into the room, ready to do battle.

All we found was
a kitchen with an aged man sitting on a chair, his head resting on a worn wooden
table. The stone hearth had a small fire burning, and an iron pot was hanging
over it, the contents of the pot boiling over into the fire. There was an empty
bottle before the man and a lantern sitting on the table, but no other person
was in the room.

Guinevere
advanced into the room, searching for any sign or door that could lead to
George or her sister as I checked the old man.

“Drunk as a
wheelbarrow,” I told her before searching for something to take the pot off the
fire.

“I will search
above stairs.” Guinevere snatched the lantern off the table and turned for the
door.

“Wait!” She was
half way up the staircase at the end of a small and damp hallway by the time I
reached it. She opened a door at the top of the stairs and disappeared from my
view as I went up quickly.

My heart felt
heavy, like a loaded cannon, and Guinevere was the torch. Her heedless ways
were going to make me do something drastic.

As I entered the
main part of the house, I moved to the parlor where all of the furniture was
draped in
holland
covers. The house had a deserted
feeling to it as if it had not been used in many years. George was not keeping
Guinevere’s sister in the house, but Guinevere was not giving up hope. She was
upstairs, throwing doors open and shouting her sister’s name.

“No one is here,
Guinevere,” I called out and the sound of banging doors ceased.

Her
disappointment was evident as she came down the stairs.

“
Sturges
would not be drunk if George were here.”

“I take it that you
know the drunk below stairs?” she asked as she took in our surroundings.

My smile felt
rather grim. “I know him and his presence here says much.” She watched me with
raised brows. “He is a useful man to have around when George has things that he
does not want his regular servants to know about.”

She wanted to
question
Sturges
, so we went back to the kitchen, but
nothing we did would rouse him. When she grabbed an iron pan to beat him awake,
I knew it was time to remove her from the premises. We left the house after
blowing out the lantern and leaving the drunk to his sleep.

She stomped
along the street, kicking rocks out of her path.

“Guinevere.”

She did not
acknowledge me.

“Would you not
rather go back to Charleston and allow me to finish this for you?” She halted
but did not turn. “You know that I could do it, and Sam and Bess would protect
you. I do not want harm to come to you.”

“I am not
leaving you, Jack, and that leads me to something I must say.” She took my hand
and pulled me to a path between two houses where we could speak without being
overheard.

I had once told
her that my world had changed when I met her, and never had truer words been
spoken. She meant more to me than words could express, and that meant that I
had to protect her, even if she fought me.

Taking a deep
breath that was labored, she said, “Jack, when we hear of my uncle’s arrival it
is imperative that you show me indifference.”

“No.”

“What?” she
asked, looking at me like I was a little
daft.
“What
do you mean, no?”

“Just what I said.
I will not change what I feel because some ghost or goblin from your past is
about to resurrect itself. I am rather looking forward to facing this ghost and
giving him a piece of my mind and my pistol.”

“Jack,” her
voice came out in an anguished whisper, “you do not know what you are saying,
or what we face.”

As I laid my
hand on her shoulder, she closed her eyes. “It does not matter what it is,
together we can conquer it.”

Shaking her
head, she gripped the front of my coat in her fists, staring into my eyes. “No.
It is too dangerous, and I will not risk your life again, not when I can keep
you safe.”

One of my hands
covered hers, and my thumb brushed across her knuckles. It was endearing that
she wanted to keep me safe. I did not fault her for her misguided assumption
that she had to protect me. After what happened on our wedding day, I
understood her need.

“My love, you do
not have to protect me.”

“Yes, Jack,” she
said, shoving my hand away, “I do because you are too reckless to heed what I am
telling you. You do not know him; you do not know what he is capable of.”

“No, but I know
what you and I are capable of. We are going to see your uncle brought to
justice, this I promise you.”

She wanted to
believe me, but I saw that she did not. “My uncle will be bringing many men who
will shoot first and never look back.”

“Then it is
fortunate that I know some excellent fighters,” I said, but she looked as if
she wanted to shake me. It was not that I was taking this lightly. I did
understand, but I was trying to calm her. “We should choose a date to be
married, Guinevere.”

She shook her
head.

“You can deny
all you want, but in the end, you will become my wife, and it will be my right
to protect you for the rest of your life.”

“Why do you
insist upon this when you know that it is impossible with what we face?” she
asked in a voice full of exasperation.

I reached
forward and tugged up on the gold chain that she wore around her neck. My ring,
the one I had bought for her because it reminded me of her eyes, was there,
worn close to her heart.

“You are the
best part of my heart, and without you I am lost.”

She put up no
more protests, and we went back to Warren Square to find Hannah and Leo
partaking of a light meal in the dining parlor. While Guinevere ran up to
change her clothing, I explained about our mission and what we had found.

“What is our
next step? Wait until we hear word?” Leo asked.

“I thought we
might ride out to my mother’s plantation on the morrow,” I told him, and he
nodded his approval.

“Would George be
hiding there?” Hannah asked with interest as she stabbed a piece of fruit.

“No. I want
Guinevere to see it, and I thought it would be best to call upon my mother’s
steward before he comes here in search of me.” For as soon as Mrs. Short told
her brother that I was here, he would search me out.

“Aye, when word
spreads that you have taken a wife all of them will descend upon you with their
well wishes,” Leo said, understanding what I needed to protect.

“I am not Mrs.
Martin yet,” Guinevere said as she came into the room.

“Not yet, my
dear, but you are well on your way.”

òòò

Hannah, Leo,
Guinevere, and I set out mid-morning on horses that Leo had procured somewhere
in the city. I had presented Guinevere with a lovely horse that was much like
her stallion from when she had chased me in Washington. There was a secret
smile on her face as she acquainted herself with the horse.

Guinevere and I
rode ahead of Leo and Hannah as I told her about my family’s rice plantation.
It was small compared to the thousands of acres of land that made up
plantations. My father never had much interest in the keeping of the land,
leaving the running of the estate to his steward, but I had loved it here. When
not in training, I had followed the steward around, learning all I could about
the land. It had been six years since I had last been in Savannah, but my
mother made an annual trip to see the plantation and her holdings.

We were nearing
the lane to my plantation when we came upon a man whose horse had thrown a
shoe. He was a finely dressed man, and his horse looked to be from good stock.
A neighboring plantation owner or steward I would guess.

“Good day to
ye
,” he called out to us as we halted our progress. “Might
ye
be from these parts an’ can tell me where I can find a
smithy?”

Not a neighbor
then, but a gentleman. “You may follow us down this lane here to my plantation
where we have a forge,” I said. When last I was here, ours was the nearest
forge unless he wanted to lead the horse back into Savannah.

“This here lane?”
He looked down it, shielding his eyes against the sun. “Aye.” He let out a
whistle.

Understanding
strummed through me too late. I grabbed for my pistol.

From the trees
on both sides of the road came men on horseback with guns raised toward us.
They surrounded us, and I removed my hand from my holster. These men were too
well-dressed to belong to Harvey or George, nor did they wear the serpent rings
of the royal guards. That left me with one question, if not them, then who?

Guinevere

“Y
e will follow us, and if ye try
anythin
’ we have orders to shoot
ya
.”
The well-dressed man mounted a spare horse, and the rest of the men fell into
flank us on all sides.

The cavalcade
moved down the road at a trot, passing the lane to Jack’s plantation, and when
we reached a bend in the road, we were led off the road and into the trees. The
path and the attack shouted of Harvey, but these men were none that I had met
before.

From my
experience, anyone could be waiting for us at the end of the trail, and all we
could do was be prepared to fight.

We rode for a
quarter of a mile until we reached the end of a small lane that began in the
trees and ended at the steps of a large round building.

Hannah cast me
an incredulous look, but Jack and Leo were impassive as we were ordered to
dismount. When we were on the ground, the leader turned to us, blocking our way
into the building.

“We be
needin
‘
yer
weapons.” He looked straight at me. “All of ‘
em
.”

Jack and Leo
handed over their knives, pistols, and even a blow-pipe. Hannah had two pocket
pistols, five knives, and seven hatpins that were not in her hat. When the men
stood before me, I handed them my pistol and dagger. I stepped forward, but the
leader blocked my path.

“I said all
yer
weapons. If ye are
unwillin
’
to cooperate, the men and I be ordered to search ye for ourselves.”

With a huff of
air, I turned and Hannah and Jack blocked the view to the men. I raised my
skirt and removed my dagger from where it was strapped to my leg. Lowering my
skirt, I straightened and handed the dagger to the detestable man who had the
audacity to grin.

He could grin
all he liked, but it was a bit premature considering the knife I still had in
my boot.

“Bind them,” he
ordered.

Men descended
upon us, and I threw my shoulder into one of them, prepared to fight, but Jack
grabbed me. He held me back from striking the men as I longed to do.

Leo did not
resist them as they bound his hands behind his back. Hannah protested, but she
did not put up a physical fight. As they stepped behind Jack, he placed his
hands behind his back, but held my gaze. He did not want me to resist, not when
we were so outnumbered, and I had an inkling that he wanted to see who was
inside the building.

As soon as
Jack’s hands were tied, the leader sauntered up the stairs to open the door to
the rotunda. They left me unbound, which added to my dread and curiosity. I
wanted to get inside and find out what we were facing, but another part of me
was dreading who was on the other side of that door. It was not my uncle; I
would have known of his presence, but it could have been Lucas.