The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) (8 page)

***

Charlotte had ordered Abe to drive us to Sam’s house
instead of back to Rose’s house, and a part of me wished that I had
never shown Char my brand. I was seated in Sam’s parlor listening
to Char scream at her brother in his library. Her voice was loud
even through the closed door. I knew it would not be long before
Sam sought me out, if Charlotte’s shouts and accusations were any
indication of the storm ahead. Not even five minutes had passed
before the door opened, and Char called for me. I rose, releasing a
deep breath, and walked calmly into the book room, closing the door
behind me. Sam was standing before the wall of windows with his
hands clasped on the back of his neck, his back rigid.

“Bess,” Char said, drawing my attention away from
Sam’s back, “what are other methods of torture?”

“I do not believe—” I started in
cautiously, and Char interrupted.

“I need to know. Water? Fire?
Starvation?
Stretching
?”

Sam did not respond as I expected he would; he did
not turn to face us. Char was staring at me for a reply.

“Yes, though people do not use the
rack much anymore, as it is
not easily
accessible.” I tried for levity, but it was lost on Char, and Sam
still would not turn.

“What about slavery?” Char
demanded with wide eyes and a look of complete horror masking her
usually happy face. “Will they sell you? Ravish you?” As hysterical
as her voice was and as high as she was screeching, I knew it was
the only way she was holding back tears. Since Sam was so obviously
avoiding confrontation—disagreeable man—I was the one to react,
taking two steps to Charlotte and wrapping my arms around her. She
stood rigid with her hands at her sides for a few breaths, then
crumpled against me, burying her head against my shoulder. She
sobbed, mumbling incoherent words, as I rubbed her back and her
hair. When I glanced at Sam, he was watching me intently, but he
said nothing.

Pushing Char back enough to see her face, I said,
“If you want to do this job I will train you as best I can, but how
well you succeed is up to you. Is that what you want? Do you want
to be a Phantom?”

She sniffled a few times then nodded.

I smiled at her. “Then dry your eyes, sister, for
that is what we are. Phantoms are family, so you and I are
family.”

Sam had moved to the door and
had
gone out. He returned a minute later
with a short mousy woman behind him. “Mrs. Lacey will see to you,
Char. I want a word with Raven.” I was not surprised that he said
my Phantom name before Mrs. Lacey, as I was sure that Sam only
employed the most trustworthy people in his home. Once Charlotte
had gone out with Mrs. Lacey and the door was shut, Sam leaned
against it.

“Is it your intent to disrupt the harmony of my team
or does it come natural to you?” he asked evenly.

I pounced upon that in a rush. “You call this
harmony? That child is scared out of her wits, and in place of
blaming me, you should be rendering your thanks.”

When Sam and I stood toe to toe, his voice was
heated. “Thank you? For destroying my sister’s peace?”

“For pointing out the fault that has been staring
you in the face, but you have been too blind to see,” I snapped at
him.

“Such as?”

“Is it not clear? She cannot accept the idea of
death.”

“She is young. She has but to learn,” he said,
keeping his eyes trained on me.

I raised my hands to heaven. “Do you hear yourself?
The child told you that she never knew the sacrifices this job
requires.”

“Now she does, because of
you
.”

I almost growled in frustration. “Yes, I stepped in
and did your job. You should have been the one to explain all of
the details of capture to her before you ever accepted her on your
team. You are grossly at fault.”

“Miss Martin, you overstep yourself,” Sam said in a
low voice, his face on level with my own.

“No, sir, I do not. This way of life calls for a
certain breed of people. People who understand that their death may
be necessary to protect what is good and pure.”

His head was tilted at a little angle; his eyes
focused not on my eyes but my mouth. I took a step back, my heart
thundering and feeling suddenly hot. I glanced down and nearly
groaned. In all the times I had seen Samuel Mason, only once was I
dressed as a woman. It was no wonder that the man baited me
incessantly. He most probably thought me nothing better than a
woman of little respectability, acting more like a man than a
woman.

Sam pushed away from the door and walked to his
desk. He picked up a letter and held it out to me. “These are my
instructions for the next month.”

As I moved to take the letter, I asked, “Are you
going away, Mr. Mason?”

He did not meet my eyes when he said, “Yes, to
Boston. I leave with the evening tide on the morrow.” He picked up
a stack of books and placed them in a portmanteau case behind his
desk.

“Connections to the Holy Order?” I asked, reading
over a list of names and addresses.

“So it would seem,” he murmured, and I looked up to
see him watching me again.

“Well, I shall leave you to your preparations. I
assure you that your team will be safe with me,” I told him as I
backed toward the door.

“I have complete faith in your
abilities,” a slow, wicked smile spread across his lips,
“
Bess
.”

Flutters spiraled in me like leaves in an autumn
wind. The way he said my name washed over me like silk caressing
the skin. I ignored the feelings and raised my eyebrows in what I
hoped was a haughty manner.

“If Phantoms are family, then you and I are family,
so, in your own words, I can call you Bess and you must call me
Sam.”

Drat the man!

***

It was about evening on the day Sam was to leave the
city, when Levi and I climbed into Rose’s carriage that Abe was
driving for us. As it rumbled down the cobblestone streets, we went
over the list of names that Sam had given me. There were twenty
different names on the list. We had visited five of the people, but
had crossed them each out as having no knowledge that we did not
know. The last name we were visiting that day was a clerk in a
mercantile.

When we reached the mercantile, Abe said he would
wait for us. As Levi and I stepped into the building, all manner of
pleasant smells assailed me. It was a quaint store, being one of
the smaller in the city, but it was bustling with patrons as we
made our way toward the clerk’s counter. Five men all wearing
aprons over their clothes were helping other people. As it was the
end of the work day, people were scurrying to make their
purchases.

While Levi stood beside the counter waiting for a
clerk to come to his aid, I strolled around the room, not truly
shopping, but listening.

Listening to chattering people was the best source
of information when you wanted to discover something of importance.
When information was considered ‘private,’ most people took that to
mean ‘must be shared.’ I did not mind, for through gossip was where
I had learned many secrets that led to the fulfillment of
missions.

As I rounded the room, hearing all manner of topics
from cures for gout to Mrs. H’s daughter’s runaway marriage that
was trying to be hushed up which meant that everyone knew about it,
I finally found Levi in the crowd. His back was to the counter, and
he was inspecting a barrel of beans.

“What are you about?” I asked as I looked the barrel
over. It was ordinary, not at all large enough to conceal a
person.

“Listen,” Levi said, grabbing my arm lightly and
turning me so that my back too was facing the counter.

“Will that be all, Mrs. Abbot?”

“Yes, thank you,” replied a woman whose voice sent a
chill through me.

“I do hope that your delightful charge is well,”
said the young man.

“Yes, thank you. She is away visiting friends, so I
am doing a bit of shopping in her absence.”

Without turning, I knew who that woman was. She had
been with Guinevere in Philadelphia in the role of chaperone. She
could lead us to Guinevere. Glancing at Levi, he nodded. He was
thinking the same.

We left the mercantile ahead of Martha and walked
over to where Abe was standing at the horses’ heads. I climbed into
the carriage, but leaned my head out the door as we waited. When
Martha, as stout as she had been in Philadelphia, exited the
mercantile, I heard Levi tell Abe to follow her. He climbed in and
shut the door. We each pulled out weapons and loaded them as the
carriage moved sedately along the streets. Levi had recognized
Martha from all the times he had watched Guinevere’s house in
Philadelphia when Jack discovered that Guinevere was the white
phantom and not Hannah Lamont as we had been led to believe.

When the carriage halted before a row of houses on
Queen Street, Levi opened the door, climbed down, and helped me to
alight.

“She was set down before the white house,” Abe
said.

The white house was one in a row all built against
each other like the houses in Philadelphia, only more colorful. As
I stepped up to the door, Levi spoke.

“I’ll let you handle this, Bess.”

“Are you frightened by a woman, Levi?”

“A woman who wears turbans with knives tucked into
the lining? Completely.”

He leaned against the front of the house while I
laughingly knocked on the door. I knew better than to ask how he
knew what was in the lining of Martha’s turbans. Levi had been
fifteen and highly curious when he was assigned to watch
Guinevere’s house. I had no doubt that he had searched the inside
when Guinevere and Martha were not at home. Levi had a way of
discovering useful information. I never asked how he came by his
information, and he never told me.

The door opened by a young woman who was neither
Martha nor Guinevere. I requested to see Mrs. Abbot. She led me
into a small room where Martha was seated at a table with a cup of
tea before her, her large bonnet on the seat beside her as if it
had been tossed there carelessly. She looked up, met my eyes, and
groaned.

“Miss Martin, what a surprise to see you in
Charleston.”

Once the maid moved away, I advanced into the room,
inspecting it but moving so my back was never to Martha. “You knew
I was here, for Guinevere told you.”

Martha stared at me with her mouth in a hard line.
As her red lips parted, she barked out a deep laugh. “Miss was
correct when she said you were a right forward speaker.”

Facing Martha, placing my hands on the back of a
chair, I assumed an air of friendliness. “Where is she?”

Martha looked down at her cup, lifted it to her
lips, smiled and drank. “Why would I tell you, miss?”

I cocked an eyebrow. My meaning could not be
mistaken. I had spent time before my looking glass perfecting the
simple action to contain a mixture of hauteur, amusement,
seriousness and warning.

Martha eyed me cautiously. After what had to be a
full minute she sighed. “She is not here. She has left the
city.”

“You expect me to believe she left without you?”

“She did not need me for what she has to do. She has
a different escort.” Martha’s lips twitched as if she was trying to
refrain from laughing.

“Where has she gone?”

“Boston.”

It took me a moment to realize the
significance of her words. The walls of my chest felt as if they
were closing in on my heart. Moving toward the door, I tossed over
my shoulder, “If you are lying, I will return—with
friends.”

Stepping out of the house, I met Levi, who had
straightened from the wall. I motioned for him to follow as I led
the way to the carriage. I gave Abe the direction and was not
surprised to see his lifted brows.

Levi was not surprised when I told him what I
suspected. We both knew that Guinevere was daring enough for
anything. As the carriage rolled into the port, my feet were
tapping on the carriage floor, eager to find Guinevere, to stop her
from leaving Charleston.

When the carriage halted before Sam’s warehouse,
Levi leapt down, and I followed. We rounded the corner, searching
the numerous people on the wharf for Guinevere.

“There’s Sam,” Levi said.

Sam was standing on board a ship out in the harbor,
away from the wharf, preparing to set sail.

“That’s the
Intended
, she’s a clipper ship
modeled after
Chasseur
from Baltimore,” Levi informed me, pride lacing his words.
“She is Sam’s second fastest ship.”

Sam shook a man’s hand, then
walked with that man to the helm. Sam looked like he belonged
there, a mighty sea captain. My relief was strong, as there were no
women on board his ship. Regardless, I wanted him to see us, I
wanted to wave farewell, so we started pushing our way through a
crowd of sailors, merchants, and passengers. Ships were being
loaded and unloaded; people were disembarking, making our progress
difficult.

“Did you know that Sam was a
privateer during the war?” Levi asked as we edged our way around a
group of sailors carrying a heavy looking crate. “He captained one
of his own ships sailing munitions through the blockade. He helped
Captain Carter, who sailed us here on the
Queen’s Reward
, sail through the
blockade with a hold full of goods bound for the
Caribbean.”

I stopped walking to stare at Levi. Pain was slicing
at my heart like how one of those ships could cut through waves. It
could not be the same occurrence, but I could not stop the thread
of thoughts.