The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (16 page)

“Levi said that you and he used to steal chickens
together and toss them into your neighbors open windows.”

“I have no recollection of such happenings,” I told
her, winking, before turning to my sister.

She gave me a speaking look, and I nodded. She
excused us, and I followed her from the room.

In the foyer, we came upon Mrs.
Beaumont, who saw me and
placed a hand
over her heart exclaiming, “Bless my soul, Mr. John, I am relieved
to see you.”

Laughing, I moved toward her, laying a hand on her
shoulder. “The relief was mine to hear that you had accompanied my
sister to this city. But, where is my mother?”

“Gone to Savannah only this morning,” Bess said
sounding weary. I excused us from Mrs. Beaumont and followed Bess
up the stairs and onto a porch that had a view of rooftops and the
water in the distance.

“I want to know what happened, Bess. What did Andrew
say?”

She did not look at me as she started speaking.
“When I read that letter addressed to me from the Holy Order, I
thought it was a cruel jest, but then Andrew came around the
corner, and I knew they were only beginning.

“Andrew could say nothing, and the look on his face
told me that our future was no more, but I had to try. So I told
him about papa forming the Phantoms; I told him that I had no other
choice, assuring him that Henry had been on our side and that I had
nothing to do with his murder. Andrew was relieved, but when I
reached out to him, he recoiled.

“He told me he would escort me
home and that he would have someone see to the body. I made the
mistake of saying I had people that would see to the body. He bid
me good night when the carriage stopped at home.” Bess’s voice was
hollow. I placed my hand over hers as she went on. “I knew that his
not ending our betrothal in the carriage was a good sign. Then, the
morning post arrived, and his letter was there. Three entire sheets
about how you and I had deceived him.”

Guilt assailed me, but Bess was still speaking.

“He could not marry a woman lacking sensibility,
moral judgment, and a heart. He said that the scandal of severing
our betrothal was nothing compared to his ruination, if he had to
see his wife hanging from a noose for her activities in a
traitorous band of assassins.”

I placed my arm across her shoulders and held her
against me, trying to rein in my anger at Andrew, at the Holy
Order, but mostly at myself. I never should have approached Andrew
about Bess, inviting him to come to Philadelphia to meet her, and
most assuredly, should not have encouraged him to come back after
he had deserted her the first time. Her pain was my own stupid
fault. I betrayed my sister and ruined her future.

“Bess, I have something to confess.”

“There is no need, Jack,” she said without looking
at me. “Andrew told me that it was at your request that he came to
Philadelphia; that he would have met me at the musical even if he
had not saved my life.” She gripped my hand, turning so she could
look into my eyes. “No blame lies with you, Jack. I should have
known that I could never marry a man like Andrew. We wanted
different paths for our futures. And do not hate him for severing
our betrothal, for I do not. He did just as he thought he
ought.”

“I regret so very much that,
through my blundering folly, your heart is broken. I never wanted
that, Bess,
never
.”

A heart-rending smile touched her lips. “Andrew did
not break my heart, Jack, because I never loved him. He only added
the final blow to a heart that was holding on by a thread.”

The tragedy in her voice was more than I could bear.
She sounded defeated, hopeless. Anger surged through me, and I
gripped her shoulders shaking her slightly. “What is all this
self-pity, Bess? It is not like you, and I will not allow it. You
have overcome so much more than this, and you have more heart than
any person I have ever known.”

“Sometimes the heart leads us astray, Jack,” she
said thickly, “which leads me to what I need to tell you. Wait
here.” She rose and went into the house, returning a minute later
with something wrapped in a linen cloth. She handed it to me as she
sat beside me. I knew what it was before pulling away the cloth. It
was Guinevere’s dagger. Staring down at it, I knew she was in
Charleston.

“How was she?” I asked a little too eagerly.

Bess frowned. “She was in perfect health the last
time I saw her.”

Feeling as if the cage that I had been locked in for
nearly eight months was finally opened, I looked at Bess
expectantly. “Was she well?”

“If to throw a dagger at the head of your
betrothed’s sister is well, then I would say she is splendid. For,
she also did this.” Bess pulled up her sleeves to reveal little
scars on her wrists. “She and I engaged in a fight the day I
arrived in Charleston.” Bess pulled down her sleeves in two angry
jerks. “You may be disappointed in her, Jack, for not only has her
appearance suffered a transformation, but I am afraid her feelings
for you have as well.”

A strong and sudden anger arose within me. Guinevere
loved me; she promised to marry me, and she was the white phantom.
She knew how to keep her feelings hidden, especially from my
sister.

“She has been pursuing the most eligible bachelor in
the city.”

I had heard enough rumors about
Charleston on the ship to know whom she referred.
“
Mason
?” I
laughed.

“You will not be laughing so when you see them
together, though they each assured me there was nothing between
them.”

“You best have a care, Bess, for
you sound like a jealous woman.”

Her chin rose, as her anger showed in her eyes. “You
will see soon enough. But, if you believe that I will stand
silently by while you marry the woman responsible for the ruination
of my life, you are well off the mark.”

Jack

W
hen Bess
said that Guinevere was in Charleston, I wanted to run from the
house in search of her, but I could not do that to my sister, nor
would I. Bess was furious that I never told her about my betrothal
to Guinevere. She had discovered it by overhearing me when I
presented Guinevere with a ring. She also knew that I had allowed
Guinevere to escape at Stark Manor. I was in her black books for a
while, but she eventually forgave me and even accompanied me on a
visit to Gideon.

Bess had explained what transpired
at Gideon’s house, and I was enraged, but Gideon, who had long been
my mentor and friend, assured me that he was well and that no blame
lay at Guinevere’s feet.

He explained to us that Guinevere
had visited with him beginning the week after I had taken her to
church with me. Their weekly visits had lasted until she left the
city. The day after he arrived in Charleston, he had
opened his door to find Guinevere on the
doorstep, ready to confess of her past sins. Gideon went on to tell
Bess that Guinevere had been to see him an hour before we arrived.
It was like receiving a blow to the gut knowing I had missed her by
no more than thirty minutes. She had been there to assure him that
Samuel was not working against the Phantoms. If anything, he was
trying to convert Guinevere to our side.

When we left Gideon’s house, Bess
was quiet for half of the ride back to Rose Eldridge’s house. When
she finally spoke, it was in a thoughtful voice, admitting that
though she did not regret throwing books at him—ignoring my
protests against such atrocities—she may have been too quick to
judge Samuel Mason. There were problems between them that they
needed to work through, as there were with Guinevere and
me.

So on the twenty-fifth day of March, it was with a
hopeful heart that I walked around the road near the water where
the boat race was about to begin. Sam was standing on a platform
where he would give the signal for the race to begin.

I had found my first night staying
at his house that he was a fine host. We had much in common
and spent hours talking about books and ships. It
was when Bess’s name was brought into the conversation, though,
that Sam became truly intriguing.

At first, he had only praiseworthy things to say of
her, but I broke him down. He had said that when they were not
taunting each other, they were fighting, and he liked her best when
she was showing her spirit.

In the harbor, there were fifty
schooners ready to set sail; their colorful
flags flapping in the crisp, April wind like a beacon of
excitement. The course would take them from Charleston to Savannah
and back. The race would take two days, but from what Sam had told
me, it was an all night celebration. Most of the men and many of
the women in the crowd that had to be in the thousands would stay
out all night carousing and celebrating. For many plantation owners
and workers, it was the last time to be in the city for a few weeks
as rice planting season was about to begin.

What seemed like hundreds of tents
were lining the road. Many were for those who were staying the
night, while
others were vendors selling a
variety of wares. It appeared that the city market had moved to the
waterside for the duration of the race. There were hawkers, slaves
serving their masters and their friends, women selling reeve
baskets, women selling themselves, vendors selling every imaginable
food, and men taking bets on the ships.

As I stood beside a man selling
ale, I watched Sam speaking with the patrons of the event. People
were drawn to him, especially the women. I had a feeling that was
why Bess was trying so hard not to like him. She had never wanted a
man who paid court to other women. The man she loved would have to
love her, and
only her. Ben had loved only
Bess, but he had been murdered before the vows were spoken, and as
our family friend General Harvey had warned me, Andrew Madison
loved himself first.

Bess came up beside me tucking her hand around my
arm. The red and blue ribbons of her festive bonnet were blowing in
the spring breeze, and her cheeks were pink. She was in good
spirits until she caught sight of Sam. Her jaw was clenched so
tightly I thought she might break it. When I looked toward Sam, he
was still standing on the platform, but there was a short blonde
woman attached to his arm. At first I thought it was Charlotte, as
their backs were to us. When the cannon fired into the air to
signal the beginning of the race and fifty schooners set sail, she
was holding on to Sam too intimately to be Charlotte. Then she
turned.

My breath puffed out of me in a great burst, and I
felt all of the longing from the past seven months melt away,
replaced with a fierce love that could never be matched. The most
important part of my heart was standing not twenty feet away from
me. Bess squeezed my arm, but I could not look at her, I could not
look away from Guinevere. A blonde Guinevere, but mine all the
same.

She was smiling at something Sam said, and I had the
sudden urge to run him through as I noted how she was clasped onto
his arm.

“Now you understand what I meant,” Bess said.

“It appears you were correct.”

A horrible ache formed where only
moments before was so much love. The love was still there, but it
was becoming painful, until
Guinevere
looked toward us.

As long as I live, I shall never forget the look
that came upon her glorious face. Her extraordinary purple eyes
widened as she gave a relieved cry of ‘oh.’ Even over the cheering
and guns popping as people cheered on their favorite racers, I
could hear her.

She took three steps forward as if she were going to
leap from the platform and run to me. Sam touched her arm, but she
did not look at him. I left Bess, pushing my way toward Guinevere
through the crowd that was gathering around the platform so they
could watch the schooners until they were out of sight. Sam had
pulled Guinevere’s attention away from me, as he was pointing at
something. She looked at whatever it was then at me. She shook her
head.

“Jack, no!” Bess shouted behind me, but I kept
moving, until I discovered why she had yelled.

Sam and Guinevere moved off the platform, running
away from me through the crowd. I paused, watching ten men push
their way through the crowd pursuing Sam and Guinevere.

Evidently, Frederick had done what he set out to do,
which was to relay to those murderers Guinevere’s location, so they
and the Holy Order could take care of each other.

I moved back to the road where
Bess and Leo were giving chase. Some people were looking curiously
at us, but others were too engrossed with the race. With thousands
of people gathered to watch the race that was a tradition, making
our way through was difficult. We had pistols and could have shot
those men chasing Guinevere any number of times, but not with so
many people present to witness the action or accidentally stand in
the way of a
ball.

Further down the port, Sam and Guinevere ran into a
warehouse, and the men followed them. When we reached the door, Abe
was there to meet us. Leo glanced into the warehouse, then nodded.
Bess had a dagger in both hands, which she wore beneath her dress.
Leo, Abe, and I all had pistols or knives in hand.

The warehouse had four doors, all
open to allow in light, and there were stacked crates and bolts of
fabric all over the large room. No workers were in the room since
all workers were standing near the water’s edge watching the race.
Rustling came from the far side of the warehouse
followed by a shout and a groan. I ran ahead of
the others needing to get to Guinevere.