Phantoms In Philadelphia (35 page)

In the dining parlor, Richard and Monroe were
speaking with Mr. Knowlton when Guinevere entered on Dudley’s arm.
Mrs. Knowlton appeared at my side, chatting about her son, and I
pulled my eyes away from Dudley and Guinevere. It was only a
moment, but when I looked back, disbelief then panic shook me.

Guinevere was standing in such a way that the men
could not see what she was doing, but I could. The round part on
her gold ring was lifted up, and she was tilting her left hand over
a champagne glass and her right, index finger tapped on the ring
three times. She snapped the ring closed, picked up a different
glass, and stepped over to Dudley.

A poison ring.
She was trying to poison James Monroe.

What do I do?
My mind raced for a plan that would not make a scene or give
me away. Jack came in and moved toward Dudley and Guinevere. Her
back was to me, but Jack’s eyes met mine. I took my finger and drew
a straight line across my lips. It was another one of the codes
that we had worked out. It meant danger. I took my fingers and made
a P against my side as I said something to Mrs. Knowlton. My gaze
moved to Jack, then the champagne glasses. I rested three fingers
against my cheek as Mrs. Knowlton was speaking to me.

Jack walked straight to the champagne. He picked up
two glasses, one of them the poisoned one. He moved to Guinevere’s
side. Guinevere turned to him and smiled, but when she looked at
the two glasses in his hands and then to the other glasses, her
face paled. She knew what he held. I knew which glass he held out
to her and all my doubts about his intentions flew away.

Guinevere showed him the glass that she had in her
hand. She watched his every move as he replaced one of the glasses,
then raised his glass to his lips and took a sip.

Richard turned toward the sideboard where the
champagne glasses were at the same moment Guinevere grabbed Jack’s
hand and pulled him from the room through the door that led into a
small hall.

Richard watched them go, and that distraction gave
me a chance to approach. I picked up two glasses and switched them.
What I was about to do was a risk, but necessary.

“Good evening, Richard.”

“Good evening, Elizabeth.” I hated my name when he
said it. “Are you having an agreeable time?”

“Oh, yes! But it is dreadfully warm.” I fanned
myself slowly, and he caught on quickly. He picked up a glass,
handing it to me. Relief washed over me as I accepted the glass and
took a sip.

Mr. Monroe came to stand beside me, and Richard
handed a glass to Monroe then picked up one for himself and offered
a toast. I held my breath, and it was as if time slowed as I
watched Richard raise the glass to his lips and drink deeply.

One moment he was standing there listening to Mr.
Monroe and smiling, and the next he was falling backward.

Shrieks came from the ladies in the crowded dining
parlor, and Mr. Knowlton cursed as he rushed forward. Mr. Monroe
had my arm and pulled me back out of the way of the men who came to
crowd round. Jack came through the door, his eyes wide and his
brows raised.

“No, he breathes,” Mr. Knowlton was saying as his
fingers were feeling around Richard’s neck.

I did not have time to feel disappointed. When
Richard had fallen, the glass had dropped from his hand but not
shattered.

Within a moment, my mother was in the room and had
pushed her way through the crowd to kneel beside Richard. I was
able to play the concerned daughter. Where I knelt beside her my
dress covered the spilt glass.

“Richard! Richard, my dearest. Can
you hear me?” Mother was frantic as she gazed down at Richard. She
turned to me. “We must get him home. Where is John? Have him call
for the carriage at once.”

My foot pushed the glass until it was against my
lowered hand. Holding it in the folds of my skirt, I went out of
the room to the front door.

Levi was the person to ask about
what was in the glass. It took me a few minutes to find him, as he
and Jericho were patrolling the grounds, but he appeared around the
corner of the house. After instructing Jericho to bring around our
carriage and have Richard’s brought to the door as well, I gave
Levi the glass. Giving him a brief summary of what had transpired;
he promised to have a report for me by the morning. My thanks were
earnest, for that was one less thing for me to do. We parted ways,
and I turned toward the house, but halted. There were two people
standing in the front parlor window, watching me. I only looked at
them a moment before walking to the front door, but I felt
sick.

Nicholas and Guinevere saw me. I wanted to hope that
they had not seen me give the glass to Levi, but something deep
within told me that hope was futile.

Jack

A
t 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
alone 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.”