The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (13 page)

“Bess,” Sam said as he touched my elbow.

Pulling it away, I turned on him furiously. “I do
not know what you are playing at, Samuel Mason, but I will not be a
part.”

Pink tinged his tanned cheeks. “There is nothing
between Miss White and me, Bess.”

“I do not care what you do,
Mr
.
Mason. I care
only about my brother—and stop calling me Bess!”

When I reached the dining parlor where Charlotte and
Rose were standing with Levi and Lucas, Levi was holding a glass of
champagne, but, upon seeing my face, he offered it to me without
comment. I drank it all, though it did nothing to lessen my
temper.

“So you met Miss White, have you,
Bess?” Charlotte meant to whisper, but her voice carried. “Now you
understand why I want—”

“Miss Mason, now is not the time to have this
discussion,” Levi warned her irritably.

Charlotte looked like she would kick Levi, but Lucas
came to our rescue by asking Charlotte to introduce him to Miss
White. Char scowled at Levi for a moment more before she turned a
dazzling smile upon Lucas and went with him out of the room.

“What is amiss, Bess, to cause you such vexation?”
Rose asked me in a hushed voice.

Guinevere came into view in the foyer, casting me a
meaningful glance, before walking toward Sam’s book room.

“Nothing that a little conversation cannot cure.” I
followed Guinevere into Sam’s book room, shutting the door behind
me.

The room was lit by a few branches of candles that
highlighted Guinevere’s blonde hair. Seeing her as a blonde was
still startling, since I was used to seeing her with auburn hair.
Her eyebrows were a darker shade of brown, but the blonde hair
suited her. She was so pale that she could appear stunning in
either blonde or auburn. Her blue eyes that appeared purple in most
lights were filled with mischief as she leaned against Sam’s desk
staring at me.

“What are you playing at, Guinevere?” I demanded, as
I moved toward her.

Her eyes widened as if she thought I meant to strike
her, but her smile remained. “Did not that little Mason fool tell
you that I am Sam’s newest acquisition?”

“She did. Is it true?”

“Do you care, Bess? You have never liked me.”

“No, I have not, but I love Jack.”

She blanched at his name, her face losing most of
its color. “How is Jack?”

“Do you care, Guinevere? You have Sam now,” I
retorted.

She looked down at her gloved hands. There was the
outline of a ring on her finger inside her glove. Jack’s ring, I
was sure of it. “I never had Sam, and you are a fool if you do not
believe me.”

I did believe her, but I would not tell her. “Tell
me where the Holy Order is, and I may not kill you.”

Guinevere laughed, the musical sound echoing through
the room. “You are not a murderer, Bess, but I will tell you what
you want to know. Attend the service tomorrow morning at St.
Philips.”

“You lie. You do not mean to tell me a thing.”

She did not laugh; she did not smile. “I have never
lied to you, Bess. Your assumptions are what have led you astray in
the past.”

She nodded, and left after that, not only the room,
but the house. I decided not to follow her, having no doubts that
she would be at the church in the morning. It would be Sunday, so
the church would be full, but if it were a trap, I would be
prepared for her.

Hearing the laughter through the walls did not make
me want to join the others. My head ached, and I needed some time
without noise.

Opening the same window I had used to break into
Sam’s house, I walked out onto a stone terrace and down into a
walled garden. The moon was bright without clouds, and a little
stone bench at the back of the garden against the brick wall
beckoned to me.

The candlelit rooms spilled light onto half of the
garden, making Sam visible as he stepped through the open book room
window. He did not stop to look around, but knew that someone was
seated on the bench. He walked toward me with the easy confidence
that always surrounded him.

“May I join you, Bess—forgive
me—Miss Martin?”

Moving over to give him room to sit was my reply. As
much as I wanted to be angry with him, I remembered what he had
done in bringing my mother and my horse to Charleston. I had
enjoyed showing my mother Charleston over the last three days from
atop my own mount.

“When I need time to think, this is where I come,”
he told me conversationally. “This bench belonged to my mother, so
it feels as if she is here helping me with my problems as she did
when I was a child.”

“Does your mother live far away?”

“Both she and my father have passed on. It is only
Charlotte and I now.”

“Charlotte is fortunate to have you,” I said,
thinking about Jack, and how he had helped me when our father
died.

“I am the fortunate one. Charlotte loves me, despite
my faults.”

“That is what sisters are for, Mr. Mason.”

“Sam, please,” he said. I could feel him looking at
me, but I was staring toward the house.

“Very well, Sam. And you may as well call me Bess
since I know you will regardless of what I say.”

Sam laughed, soft but deep. I leaned forward, my
hands pressing against the stone seat as I admired the serenity of
his garden. We did not have anything like that in Philadelphia; our
house being built against two others.

“Please allow me to thank you again for bringing my
mother to Charleston.”

His hand pressed over mine, and my gaze shot down to
his hand, for I could no longer see my own, and then to his face
that was masked by the darkness. He picked up my hand and held it,
guiding it and me closer to him.

“I thought only of you. Bess, I meant what I said.
There is nothing between Miss White and me. Nor could there
be.”

“I believe you,” I whispered, for it was impossible
to raise my voice above that.

He raised my gloved hand and kissed my fingers,
lingering with his lips pressed against my hand, until I was sure
that all the air had been removed from my lungs. He held out his
other hand and without thought to the impropriety, I gave him
mine.

My anger at him had been masking my hurt upon
hearing about Guinevere, about Sam not coming to see me when he
returned to the city. It was true when I told my mother that my
good opinion could not be bought, but it could be won. When Sam
looked at me as if I were someone he wanted to cherish, love even,
my carefully constructed defenses around my heart were crumbling
faster than a dry crumpet.

With both my anger and hurt evaporated, I realized
how much I had missed him; how much I enjoyed being near him. I
even missed our quarrels. Without my knowing, Sam had become my
anchor, mending what I thought was destroyed beyond repair. My
heart.

“There is so much that I want to tell you,” he
whispered as he placed my hands on his shoulders. Our thighs were
brushing against each other through the material of our clothing.
He leaned toward me, and I felt myself leaning in return, without a
thought beyond the need to kiss him again, to discover if his
wonderful curls were as soft as I was sure they must be. Our
foreheads were the first to touch, then our noses. Feelings both
hot and cold assaulted me at the same moment when he did not
immediately kiss me. His lips hovered over mine, when he spoke.

“Forgive me, Bess.” He pulled back, his gloved
fingers brushing down my arms until they stopped at my hands. He
brought my hands away from his shoulders and kissed each palm
before releasing me. “You are not mine to kiss, and no matter how
hard I fight it, I am doomed to be a gentleman.” He rose and took a
few steps, then turned back to stare at me. The moon was shining
through the trees, and I could finally see his regretful
expression. “Andrew Madison is a fool, for you are the best kind of
perfection.”

Bess

T
he best
kind of perfection.

What was that supposed to mean? I
had laid awake most of the night thinking on it. It did not
surprise me that he had heard about my break with Andrew, for my
mother would have told him, but what did his words mean? I was far
from being any kind of perfection. My nose was too long, my eyes
too brown, like dirt. I spoke my mind more than was seemly and I
accepted any challenge tossed my way. There were so many more
pleasant, beautiful, and docile females littering the town. Try as
I did, I could not understand why he would like me. And, if he
thought me so perfect, why had he not come to see me during the
three days since his return?

Putting such thoughts aside, I
focused on the port as the carriage halted. The ship bound for
Savannah was the
Queen’s
Reward
, which my mother had sold to
Captain Carter last year. He greeted us merrily as my mother’s
trunk was taken aboard the ship. I thanked the captain for
transporting my horse, which I had been informed was what Sam had
arranged when they met in Baltimore. Sam had somehow discovered
that my mother meant to join me, and he had traveled to
Philadelphia to offer her escort. He arranged to have my horse
taken to Baltimore where Captain Carter’s ship was docked. It came
out that Sam had gone to my mother before going to Boston. That was
why my horse arrived the same day as my mother, Captain Carter’s
load taking longer to transport.

When my mother was aboard the ship and we had waved
farewell, I instructed Abe to drive me to St. Philip’s church.

Usually on Sundays, we would all attend Gideon’s
church together, except Sam, but since I had a meeting, I was going
to meet them at Rose’s house later in the day.

When the church loomed ahead of me, I pushed
thoughts of Sam completely away to focus on my surroundings and
Guinevere. Abe was going to wait for me, keeping his eyes open for
any sign of trouble. As I climbed the front steps entering the
church, I was searching for her among the crowd. The sanctuary was
filling up quickly, but I saw her almost immediately, seated in the
second to last row, and still wearing the blonde wig.

As I slid onto the seat beside
her, I spoke softly. “Know that if this is a trap, I have come
prepared.”

“So, too, have I,” she replied.

As the service began, we neither of us spoke. It was
not until the rector, a young man named Reverend Frost, started to
speak that Guinevere whispered to me.

“If I do this, I want your word of honor that you
will absolve me of all my sins.”

“I am not a priest, Guinevere.”

“No, but you hold the ear of authority.”

She watched my eyes. I remained a blank canvas, so
she would not know that I was asking myself if I could ever forgive
her for what she had done. I was unsure, but I was willing to
discover the truth.

“Very well, Guinevere. Give me what I want, and no
harm will come to you by the hands of a Phantom.”

She smiled and faced forward. “Then, you should know
that the Holy Order is meeting today.”

We remained quiet for the rest of the sermon, but
when the congregation rose, she said, “Be outside the Corner Tavern
at half past noon, and I will take you to them.” She started to
leave the pew, but turned back to say, “Bring your team.”

Losing sight of her in the crowd, I found Abe and
asked him to take me to Rose’s house.

When we arrived, I found Levi there. He was playing
chess with Charlotte. Betsy sat on the sofa, and Rose sat at her
escritoire, all unaware of the possible danger ahead of us. There
were still some things that I had yet to teach them, but they were
each intelligent women, and I knew they could only grow from
experience. Though some experiences I wished I could shield them
from. Sam would expect me to take them, for that was the reason of
my training them.

Levi moved a pawn before looking toward me. He was
the first to notice my presence.

“I require your attention,” I said. “There is work
to do, and we must make haste. Abe is bringing around the wagon.
Rose, I need you to help Betsy and Char with their attire. Levi and
I will collect weapons. You have fifteen minutes to be at the
wagon, or you will be left behind.”

Levi was the first to jump up, knowing that I meant
what I said. Charlotte followed Levi, jumping up and knocking the
chess board out of her way. Levi followed me into the foyer and
toward the cupboard behind the stairs. Char, Betsy, and Rose went
up while we removed the fake backing from the cupboard wall and
started pulling out weapons.

Levi hauled the weapons out the back door while I
ran upstairs to my chamber. Mrs. Beaumont was there to help me
remove my gown and dress in my work clothes. My chamber was
disordered, but Char had asked earlier to borrow some of my knives
which were in my trunk. Mrs. Beaumont promised to chastise Char
later for not putting my belongings back where she found them.

Once my boots were in place, my
wig removed, and my short hair tied back and tucked under my cap, I
moved quickly
down the stairs. Rose was
the only one downstairs, and she was dressed in her black clothes
with the spectacles perched on her nose and the large and rather
disgusting mole beside her nose.

Charlotte and Betsy came down the stairs like two
wild horses, and the four of us went to the back door leading down
into the yard. We moved past the cook house to an iron gate built
into the back wall of the property. Levi and Abe were awaiting us
on the street beside the wagon. We were headed to Shepherd’s Tavern
on the corner of Broad and Church.

When we reached Shepherd’s Tavern, it was not an
establishment such as I was accustomed to. It was more refined than
some of the haunts my team had frequented while on missions.