Phantoms In Philadelphia (43 page)

The corner of her lips twitched, and I saw perfectly
the excitement dawn in her hyacinth eyes. “I promise you a glorious
chase.”

“I would expect nothing less.” I backed against the
stable wall.

In a mixture of agony and longing, I watched
Guinevere nod to the driver before climbing into the carriage. Her
eyes met mine through the window, and she smiled, but there were
tears on her soft cheeks. The carriage lurched as it pulled away,
taking the most important part of my heart with it.

My mother rode toward me, passing the carriage. As
she pulled up, I went to her, helping her to dismount. Tears were
streaming down her cheeks. I wrapped my good arm around her, and
she sobbed against my shoulder. We stood like that for five
minutes, with her sobbing and my trying to whisper encouragement.
When the last of her sobs abated, I led her back to the house.

In the throne room, Frederick had everything well in
hand. The members of Levitas were bound, and Frederick was speaking
to two constables, who had arrived with George, on what would be
the best transport for the prisoners.

Bess was sitting on the edge of the platform with
Leo checking her wounds. Mother ran to her. She wrapped her arms
around Bess, but when Bess cried out in pain, Mother released her.
I joined them, as Mother examined Bess’s back. Tears fell from
Mother’s eyes, but she said nothing. Leo informed us that Bess had
a serious burn from the brand, some bruised ribs, and a split
lip.

“I should take a look at your throat,” Leo said to
me, but I shoved his hands away. My throat ached atrociously, but I
had no intention of sitting around when there was work to be done.
“You are bleeding,” Leo informed me. I looked down, and sure
enough, my shoulder was bleeding. I let Leo patch me up as best as
he could.

George stormed into the room, his eyes upon my
mother. “What were you thinking, Nell? You should never have
pursued Richard on your own.”

“It was my duty to right the wrong that Richard has
done against our family.”

George was still frowning, but he nodded. Bess asked
what she meant. Mother told us that when Richard had discovered my
father’s masquerade, Richard poisoned him. Mother’s betrothal to
Richard had been a sham. She knew who he was, and she purposely
went to Savannah aboard Richard’s ship when she knew he would be
sailing there. She charmed him until she snared him. I was unsure
what to think or feel, but I knew that she had always wanted to be
a Phantom.

Frederick clapped me on my good shoulder. “We have
done well this day.”

“Indeed, we have.”

“What of the woman?”

I knew that George’s eyes were upon me, so I forced
the words out without a hint of emotion. “She escaped.”

George showed his disappointment, but I did not pay
heed as Jericho and one of Frederick’s deputies appeared helping a
stumbling Levi into the room.

I moved straight to them, kneeling beside Levi when
they sat him on one of the thrones. “Levi, what has happened to
you?”

“They thought I was you,” he replied in a raspy
voice. “They branded me when I would not turn over the names of our
team. Then, today, they whipped me.”

Emotion clogged my throat. I knew without asking why
they thought he was Loutaire. Both Nicholas and Guinevere had seen
Bess give Levi the glass at the Knowlton’s ball.

I looked away from Levi. I felt
grievously to blame for all he had suffered. My eyes fell on a body
sagged over in a throne chair on the other wall. The blood on his
coat told its own story. Charles Knowlton was no more.

Bess

10 January 1817

Philadelphia

T
he days
that had followed the capture of Levitas were filled with new
developments. Richard, having no other family, had left all of his
holdings to my mother in his will. His affections had never been a
pretense. Jack and I had announced our desire to leave the
Phantoms, and sure enough, all of my team except Levi also wanted
out.

Levi joined Freddy’s team, while newly married
Mariah and Jericho moved to our family farm in North Carolina.
Andrew and I had settled upon the twentieth of May to be married.
After all of the horrible occurrences that had happened on my
birthday, I wanted something good to overshadow the bad.

Jack had been gone for two months.
He had stayed with me through October, and then he had left. He did
not tell me what he was doing, but there was no need. I knew that
he was searching for
her
.

A week after Jack left, George, Freddy, and Levi
arrived at my house demanding that I turn over to them all the
artifacts that Jack had stolen. I did the only thing I could to
keep them safe. I lied. I told them that Jack had taken the
artifacts with him. George did not believe me, and he wanted to
search the house. It was Andrew’s timely arrival that kept them
from carrying out that injustice. I gave orders to Arnaud not to
permit them in the house again. I had to hide the artifacts in a
safer place than my bedchamber.

Thankfully, I did not hear from them again, until
today. Levi had come to the house with a message from George. He
needed me to go on a mission. I refused until Levi told me whom I
was to meet.

For that alone was why I was slinking my way through
alleys and deserted roads toward the port.

The moon was masked by patches of gray clouds, and
where puddles had been from the rain of the last few days was now
ice. I pulled my coat closer around the maid’s uniform that I wore
as directed. If I did not catch my death running through the
streets in freezing temperatures, it would be a miracle.

The past year of 1816 had been proclaimed as the
coldest ever remembered. Even across the ocean, other countries
suffered the cold. Crops had been ruined; the prices of food from
the last harvest had been nearly tripled, and every month saw ice
upon the ground. We had no real summer, and many people had died in
the northern states due to the cold and lack of coal and food. I
had heard that many people were migrating westward where it was
claimed to be warmer.

A week after we had captured
Levitas, we saw flurries of snow—in August. It was being hailed as
the year without a summer. The cold stretched from Canada all the
way to Georgia. Our housekeeper in Savannah had written that, on
the Fourth of July, the temperature was a startling forty-six
degrees. We wore our winter clothing all the year long, never being
able to wear the lighter fabrics that surrounded the summer
months.

As I moved closer to the port, I could not help but
wish that Jack was with me. But no, he was off in search of the
woman who was the cause of the brand that would forever be a part
of my back.

Pushing Guinevere away from my thoughts, I focused
on the road ahead. When I reached the docks, I pulled my black,
wool hood closer to my chin and hurried past the tavern and its
music and loud, drunken men. Thankfully, there were no such men
outside as I passed the door.

There were three warehouses, a mercantile, and the
tavern along this stretch of the Delaware River, and it was at the
end of the row that I was to meet a man who had once been like a
brother to me. As I reached the last warehouse, a shadow appeared
before me. I threw up my fists before my face, as my feet skidded
across the slippery bricks of the road. The clouds parted above,
and I looked straight into Henry Shultz’s face.

Henry and Ben had been with our team since the
beginning; until Ben was murdered. I had not seen Henry since the
funeral that our team held for Ben. We had searched for him, but he
was a Phantom, and he knew how to cover his trail. He had not
wanted us to find him. I threw my arms around his neck and hugged
him as tight as I could. He was thinner, too thin, and his yellow
hair had grown out hanging past his shoulders, but I was relieved
to see him again.

He held me back. “We do not have much time. I have
something that I need you to hold for me.” He looked up and down
the road, and then pulled a black, odd-shaped box from inside his
coat.

My breath caught in my throat. It was the black box
Pierre had been guarding; the same box that Dimitri turned over to
Levitas. I took it from his hands and turned it over in my own
inspecting it.

After placing it in the bag that Henry held open,
and tying the bag around the strings of my apron, I watched Henry
closely. He was fidgety, his eyes darting up and down the
docks.

“Bess,” he whispered, “you must protect this box
with your life. There are those who will kill to get it back.”

“I will guard it with my life,” I promised. Now I
had five of the seven artifacts. All that was left were the
rings.

“Whatever you do, do not tell George that you have
it.” Henry kissed my forehead and turned me back the way I had
come. “Go, and whatever you hear, do not look back.”

“What—” I was cut off by Henry
disappearing down the alley between two of the
buildings.

The biting wind rolling off the water made my teeth
chatter. I had reached the water road, when two, loud gun shots
shattered the stillness of the night. Looking behind me, fog was
covering the air. Other than the light coming from the lamp post
outside the tavern, I could see nothing beyond the tavern.

Henry had told me not to look back. It was almost as
if he knew. Choking back a cry, I started to run through the fog
and past the tavern and warehouses.

Beyond the warehouses, there were rows of stacked
crates waiting to be transported. The sound had come from this
direction. I gripped my pistol in my right hand and my dagger in my
left as I glanced down the first row, then the second. Light was
shining through a gap between two crates. It was coming from the
third row.

Gripping my weapons tighter, I eased my way around
the crates, had my first look toward the light, and dropped my
dagger. My hand muffled my mouth, as I let out a cry.

Henry was sprawled on the ground, staring at the
night sky. Reaching him, I dropped to my knees, crying through
clenched teeth. Tears fell from my eyes like silent raindrops.
Henry’s face was contorted in fear, and a fresh sob rose from my
throat.

One half of his coat was off his shoulder, as if
someone had searched him roughly, but the other half covering his
chest had two ball shaped holes that were seeping crimson.

My shaking hand that was covering my mouth reached
toward the bloody mess of his chest. I was desperate to feel the
beating of his heart, but it was as silent as my tears.

A point of something hard touched my fingers, as I
was drawing my hand away from his silent chest. I pushed his coat
away, and there lying on his chest was a letter…addressed to
Elizabeth Martin.

My sharp intake of breath shook my body. It was not
Henry’s handwriting. I saw at that moment my mistake. Whoever had
murdered Henry had placed the letter on him and left a lantern on
purpose, knowing I would come.

Biting my lip, I broke the seal and
unfolded a single sheet. The symbol at the bottom of the page leapt
at my heart as if it were a serpent there to destroy me. The
pyramid with the lightning bolt. But this one was different from
Levitas. This one had two letters in the center of the
pyramid.
H
and
O.

The Holy Order knew my identity. My heart rose and
fell in quick, short, panicked breaths. My eyes rose to the
message. Two words. That was all.

Look up
.

“Elizabeth
?” came an incredulous, horrified voice.

The familiar flutters danced in my
body, but it was a dance of death. I did not want to look—but I
did. “Andrew.”

THE

Charleston

CHASE

Bess

10 February 1817

Charleston, South Carolina

B
eing a
spy had taught me some valuable tricks, like how to pick locks.
When I was fourteen, I had discovered that I had an aptitude for
unlocking barriers that were meant to keep people out. I had yet to
come up against a lock that I could not undo. The key was to
control your breathing. If you control your breathing, you control
the beating of your heart and in turn, the fumbling of your hands.
If you stay emotionally controlled, you will find your
way.

It also helps when people are trusting, for trust
leads to unlatched windows, and the people of Charleston appeared
to be very trusting.

Stepping through an open window that was nearly as
tall as I was, I let myself into a large house on Fort Street. I
knew the owner to be away from Charleston; I also knew the owner
had information that would serve me well.

When I took a good look at the room I had entered, I
paused to stare. It was a two-story book room. On three of the
walls were stocked bookshelves, and in one corner was a wooden
spiral staircase that led up to a second level of bookshelves.
There was a narrow walkway that encompassed all three walls. The
room was unlike any I had ever seen or dreamed. Jack, my little
brother, would possibly kill to possess such a room.

The window I had entered through was one in a wall
of windows that overlooked a garden. There was a large desk with
books and papers all stacked in orderly piles. Snapping out of my
stupor, I moved to the desk first. There was a map unrolled across
the center, and all the books were nautical ones. There was a stack
of opened letters, so I started going through them.