Secrets In Savannah (Phantom Knights)

by Amalie Vantana

  “You are not a man,” I retorted.

  “The name is Eric,” Hannah said in a deep voice with an Irish lilt to her words, “and I can fight just as well as you.”

  Hannah unbuttoned her coat to reveal an assortment of weapons.

  “We do not have time to waste, Jack. They will be dropping the anchor soon,” Leo said as he pushed away from the rail.

  “Right you are, sir, and a fine specimen of manliness if I do say so myself.” Hannah bowed before Leo. He did not look at her as he walked away to speak with the captain. “Right fastidious this friend of yours is, Jack.”

  “Hannah—” I said.

  “Eric,” she corrected.

  Heaven help me. “—Hannah, if you are insistent in aiding us, you will protect Guinevere. You will stay with her, and make certain that she escapes to safety. Is that understood?”

  Hannah touched her forelock. “Aye, Cap’n, sir.”

  Hannah scampered off to arrange things with Guinevere as Leo explained things in his own way to the captain. When he returned to my side, he assured me that the captain was willing to help in any way that he could. Leo and I went to our cabin, loaded our pockets with weapons, then saw to our baggage being carried up to the deck.

  Guinevere was there to greet us, and she was in fine spirits which assured me that Hannah had done well in keeping things secret. As Guinevere went to thank the captain, Hannah touched the side of her nose in some sort of code that I did not attempt to decipher.

  “If we are to work together I was thinking that I should have a name.” Leo and I stared at her, and she rolled her eyes. “A Phantom name.”

  “You are not a Phantom,” Leo informed her in a low voice.

  “I believe Eric is enough of a name for this day,” I interposed to keep the two from coming to cuffs.

  “The captain tells me that you are in need of a carriage. I offer mine to convey you where you need to go,” Andrew said as he joined us.

  Guinevere was still speaking with the captain, so there was a decision to be made. Andrew took it out of my hands when I hesitated.

  “What is amiss?”

  When Leo and I exchanged looks, Andrew bent so that he would be closer to my height.

  “Whatever it is, I offer my aid,” he said and appeared genuine in his offer to help, but still I hesitated. “You cannot lie and tell me that nothing is amiss, for one only has to look at Mrs. Lamont to see the truth.”

  Leo and I both tossed Hannah pointed looks.

  “What can I say? Mr. Madison knows more than you would think,” Hannah said.

  “So be it. You will remember the night that you found my sister,” I said, and Andrew’s expression grew grim. “The men who murdered the man you found her with are now here on the wharf. They have come for my wife.”

  Andrew straightened, his back rigid. “Then let us do away with them at once.”

  Leo’s straight brows rose; Hannah grinned, but I knew that Andrew did not fully understand.

  “I did not believe your sister that night when she told me the truth, and it has been my greatest regret. You must allow me now to try to atone for the injustice that I placed upon your family,” Andrew’s voice held a plea, but also authority. He would not allow me to say him nay.

  Nor would I. If Andrew was willing, and was in earnest, then we would accept his aid. He did owe it to Bess after the pain he put her through. His breaking their betrothal had nearly ruined my sister.

  Agreeing, I laid before them my plan, and when the boat was anchored, and Andrew’s carriage arrived, Andrew disembarked from the ship first. After we saw him speak to his coachman, we made our descent from the ship. Leo and I led the way with Guinevere in the middle and Hannah, the captain, and five sailors following us.

  As soon as our boots touched the wharf, men approached from every direction. Leo and I shielded Guinevere until she stepped into the carriage. Hannah leapt in beside her, and I slammed the door. Andrew had instructed his coachman to drive as fast and as far from the harbor as he could. He whipped the horses into action, and the carriage lurched forward. I saw Guinevere’s astonished face through the window before my shoulder was grabbed, and I was wrenched around.

  “Where be that carriage going, my spritely gentleman?”

  “Did he just call me a fairy?” I asked Leo. “Nay, my large and,” I leaned forward and sniffed, “smelly gentleman. I am but a small man in stature. Though gifted in beauty, wings were never granted me.”

  The senseless man’s brow creased. “This one here’s a loon.”

  The man who had a hold on the captain’s coat puffed in what could be annoyance. “Then he should be easy pickin’s.”

  “I didn’a sign on to deal with a crazy. Switch off with me now,” my captor demanded.

  “Do yer job or ye won’t be paid,” the other man retorted.

  “Right he is,” I interposed. “You must always do your required work if you expect to be recompensed.”

  “Oh, shut him up!” the other guard demanded.

  My guard turned to me with a grin on his atrocious mouth, so I popped him one on his jaw with my fist, and set off the battle.

  Pulling out my knife, I cut down the front of his coat. He leapt back, but two men behind him who were fighting some of the sailors knocked him toward me. Sidestepping as he stumbled, I slammed the handle of my knife against his head.

  As he swayed, I wrapped my good arm around his throat. The excitement of battle chased away the pain that had been in me for the last month. Could it be that I missed the fight?

  Holding on with all of my strength as he tried to force me off, I knew that I had missed it a little. There was something rather appealing about vanquishing evil.

  When he lost consciousness, I released him to fall to the ground.

  “One,” I said with a triumphant nod.

  Leo, who was fighting near me, scoffed aloud. “Four. Get to it, Loutaire. Such a dismal beginning.” Leo dodged a blow to his head and came around with a right jab to the man’s ear.

  “You do realize that I am injured,” I said as my glance took in the battle.

  “When has that ever stopped you,” Leo replied as he twisted around one man to punch another.

  Shrugging my good shoulder, I threw myself into the fight beside Andrew, who was taking on three men by himself.

  For the last few years that we were Phantoms, we had made a habit of keeping score during a fight. The loser was responsible for the making of the evening meal, a duty none of us, save Leo, had enjoyed. It was not done out of sport, but rather as a guard against guilt and shame.

  Leo did his best to shield me, but I kept trying to attack as many men as I could reach. I had sliced one’s arm, another’s leg, and had knocked two out with my weapons when I was grabbed from behind. My captor’s fingers dug into my shoulder where I had been shot by Lucas.

  My vision blurred for a moment as tremendous agony sent sparks through my shoulder. My body was dragged backwards, away from the fight as my eyes blinked away spots.

  He released me when we were between two buildings, and without prompting, I dropped to my knees with a hand to my wound. Another man appeared before me, placing the barrel of a long pistol against my forehead.

  “Where’s the girl?”

  Why did ruffians always believe that they could coerce me into speaking? Coercion only worked on those who had something to fear. With Guinevere well away there was nothing left for me to fear. If anything should happen to me, I knew that I could trust my Phantoms family to protect Guinevere.

  A flash of red out of the corner of my eye caused me to tense. Guinevere stepped into view, and the men switched their attention to her. The one holding the pistol against my head laughed at the sight of her, but he did not see what I did.

  Guinevere raised her dagger, taking aim, and fired the small pistol that was attached to the blade. The shot struck the man behind me, and he screamed as he clutched his arm.

  Hannah darted forward from b
ehind the building with a stick about three feet in length held out before her. She brought her stick down against the man before me as quick as the striking of a serpent. It struck the man’s head, and I shoved off my knees away from his gun.

  As he twisted toward Hannah, she brought her weapon against the man’s cheek with a crunch.

  The man Guinevere had shot was on his feet and making a run for it. Before either Hannah or I could do a thing; Guinevere had a knife in his back.

  In the middle of Guinevere’s attack, the man Hannah was fighting got her stick away from her, though it looked to me as if she allowed him to take it. Reaching into the band of her breeches, she brought out a second stick, smaller and thicker.

  Moving with the grace of a dancer, and the speed of an athlete, she struck the back of his knees, forcing him to drop. Hannah spun around him, jabbing his stomach.

  Even though his face was swollen, and I was sure she had broken some part of his leg, he still tried to lunge at her.

  I grabbed his discarded pistol and rose. The man was groaning through clenched teeth, but he had a hold on the end of Hannah’ stick. His groaning ceased the instant I placed the pistol against his head.

  “I have a finger itching to relieve the world of scum such as you. Give me a reason, I beg of you,” I said with enough feeling that the man released his hold on the stick, and his hands went into the air.

  “Are you all right?” I asked Guinevere as she came up beside me.

  “Yes,” she said before looking at the man she had shot then stabbed. “There is something wrong here if General Harvey only sent ten men to apprehend me.”

  Twelve,” Andrew said with a brief smile as he limped toward us, “but they have been expunged from the ranks.”

  “You allowed him to fight instead of me?” Guinevere demanded of me.

  “Now is not the moment—” I began.

  “I will not be left out! Neither now or in the future,” Guinevere hissed in a low voice so that only I could hear her.

  Leo came into the alley, breaking into the heated moment. “Four are dead, but what shall we do with the living?”

  “Make them dig the graves then bury the living with the dead says I,” Hannah said with an Irish lilt then proceeded to dance a little jig.

  Leo shook his head; Guinevere smiled despite her anger, and Andrew looked confused.

  As Guinevere’s smile faltered, I followed her line of sight. The man who had been fighting Hannah was smirking at her.

  She moved toward him. “You are not from General Harvey.”

  The man’s smile was sly. “He was right about ye. Ye are a right knowin’ one.” The man leaned his head forward a little. “He be issuin’ ye a warnin’. More be coming an’ there be naught ye can do.”

  “Thank you for the warning and the information.” His smile faltered, and Guinevere turned her attention to Leo. “George Crawford is running scared, and now we know what to expect.”

  “Forgive my ignorance, but did you say George Crawford sent these men after you?” Andrew asked.

  Guinevere huffed out an exasperated breath. “You had to involve him,” she threw at me. “So it would seem,” she said to Andrew, “but it is nothing to bother your mind with. I thank you for your aid, but any further assistance is unnecessary.”

  Guinevere and Leo left the alley to join the captain and his men, as well as many others who worked along the harbor.

  “Did I misunderstand, or is she also a Phantom?” Andrew asked.

  Sailors entered the alley to take charge of the ruffians, and I was able to speak with Andrew alone as we walked toward the others. Giving him a brief explanation of what was afoot, Andrew surprised me no small amount when he spoke.

  “I always knew that Harvey was a scoundrel, from the moment that he warned me away from your sister. Well, should you have need of my aid at any time, please, send for me.”

  As we joined them, the captain was saying that he and his men would take care of the villains, so we did not need to worry about them.

  After thanking the captain and loading our baggage on the carriage, we set out for Warren Square.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” I asked Hannah.

  “I was trained in the art of bataireacht from an Irishman.”

  I knew of such a man, but to think that he had trained Hannah was not a reassuring thought.

  As we reached Warren Square, I stared out the window at the passing houses. Savannah was a port city made up of fifteen district squares. Houses and businesses were located on streets that surrounded a park in the center of each square.

  It was well known that the plantation owners in the north, east, and west sides of Savannah provided the commerce for the newer thriving city. My mother’s plantation was one of them.

  The scenery had changed since I used to live here. This city was where my parents first moved us when they wanted to try out their abilities of disguise and manipulation on a society. My father had bought a plantation on the northern side of the city and after only a few short months they were the toast of Savannah society.

  At the end of a year, my father deemed it time to move to a larger scale. We uprooted to Philadelphia where the Phantoms worked for several successful years.

  Besides the plantation in the country, my mother also had a house in the city that was left to her in Richard’s will. It was there that we would stay because I did not want to run into any of my mother’s servants who still took care of the plantation.

  When the carriage stopped before an elegant two story home, I saw Richard in every line of the house and was not sure I could stay there. The man had been a peacock, but vicious. He had treated Guinevere abominably as well as trying to marry my sister to his ridiculous protégé Nicholas Mansfield.

  As I stepped down from the carriage, I was just turning to help Guinevere when I heard a voice that made my stomach drop.

  “Jack Martin! I say, Jack!” Looking over my shoulder, I let out my own exclamation. A perfectly polished dandy came sauntering toward us with a formidable looking older woman on his arm.

  His coat was the color of a buttercup; his too tight breeches were the color of red wine, and his heavily starched cravat had begun to wilt in the Savannah heat. His brow was dotted with beads of perspiration, but his full face was grinning, and soon my own matched his. Dudley Stanton was in Savannah.

  CHAPTER 9

  GUINEVERE

  Dudley Stanton was in Savannah. Of all the ill luck!

  “Dud, what in all that is holy are you doing here?” Jack said as he moved toward him, holding out his hand.

  “Familial duty, old fellow,” Dudley replied with a jaunty smile. “What happened here?” Dud pointed to Jack’s arm that had been put back into the sling.

  “Thrown from my horse,” Jack lied smoothly.

  Dud made a sympathetic noise in his throat, but it stuck as he glanced over Jack’s shoulder, and his eyes nearly popped from his head. “Miss Clark?”

  “Mr. Stanton,” I replied, inclining my head as I stopped beside Jack to greet Dudley. He looked past me, and his jaw sagged lower than what was considered polite. “Mrs. Lamont?”

  Hannah looked taken aback for a moment, but she recovered swiftly and amusement filled her eyes.

  When Andrew stepped down from the carriage, Dudley looked one shock away from an apoplexy.

  The dragon looking woman on his arm rapped him with her black lace fan and Dudley’s face reddened. “Allow me to present my mother, Mrs. Clarabelle Stanton. Mama, this is Mrs. Hannah Lamont of Philadelphia, Miss Guinevere Clark also of Philadelphia, and my greatest friend, of whom you have heard me speak, Jack Martin.” Dudley glanced at Andrew. “Oh, and Mr. Andrew Madison,” he added as an afterthought.

  “So this is Nell Martin’s son. Pray, tell me how your mother does. She and I have been acquainted for years, you understand.” Mrs. Stanton said it as if it was a great honor.

  “She is well, thank you, ma’am.” Jack bowed over he
r outstretched hand as if he had no cares in the world, but I was quickly filling with alarm.

  Dudley and his mother being in Savannah was sure to add difficulty to our mission.

  Mrs. Stanton, appearing pleased with Jack’s answer, moved her attention to Andrew and there it stayed. She spoke of his upcoming nuptials to Miss Anne Crawford, Sam and Charlotte’s cousin, and Hannah, never one to ignore gossip, listened intently.

  “Mrs. Lamont had informed me that you had moved away from Philadelphia, but what made you come here?” Jack was asking Dudley when Mrs. Stanton was occupied in offering unsolicited advice to Andrew for his wedding celebrations.

  “M’mother required my presence and assistance, you know,” Dudley whispered in reply.

  “Dudley, you make me sound like an invalid, and I do assure you I have many years left in me,” Mrs. Stanton retorted, proving that her hearing was far from failing.

  “Just so, Mama,” Dudley murmured, casting a harried glance at Jack. “You never told me what you are doing in Savannah, old fellow. You find me all agog with curiosity, and with Mrs. Lamont, Miss Clark, and that fellow accompanying you.”

  I could tell that Jack was searching for something to say that would be considered appropriate. Something that would convince them that we would be engaged for our entire stay. The question drew the attention of Mrs. Stanton.

  “They are on their wedding trip,” Andrew offered helpfully, drat him.

  “Yes, and I have come along as companion to dear Guinevere,” Hannah added happily.

  My eyes were surely flashing with fire, but Jack smiled at Dudley.

  “Truly, by Jove? This is a call for congratulations, dear fellow,” Dudley said, stepping forward and reaching out to pump Jack’s hand. “Of course I heard of your sister’s marriage,” Dudley tossed Andrew a smirk, “but that you too, and to Miss Clark, well that is something indeed. Is that not something, Mama?” Dudley asked, looking at his dragon of a mother.

  Dudley had been the most persistent of Bess’s suitors until Andrew Madison came to Philadelphia. Their betrothal had been one of great interest to the matrons of society. So when Andrew broke off, it entered Bess into a scandal that drove her from Philadelphia. It all ended well in my opinion.