Secrets In Savannah (Phantom Knights)

by Amalie Vantana

  Guinevere’s urgency was mounting as we fought against the crowd who were gathered around the carriage. Guinevere was starting to shove people out of her path, picking up her pace.

  We reached the other side, but George was gone.

  “There!” Guinevere rushed forward, once again not waiting for me.

  At the end of the street, two men were struggling to force a small blonde woman into the carriage.

  “Edith!” I shouted, and all three glanced toward me. It was not Edith.

  “Jack!” Charlotte screamed as they threw her into the carriage.

  Fury broke free within me. The door was shut, but George’s face appeared in the window as the carriage lurched forward, moving at a spanking pace away from us. I started to run after it, but Guinevere grabbed my hand.

  “If they have Charlotte, where is Sam?”

  The carriage was traveling down the street at a pace that I could not catch unless I was on a horse. With a growl of frustration, I allowed Guinevere to pull me toward the crowd.

  We found Sam at his carriage, seated beside Bess with a cloth pressed to his head.

  “What has happened?” I asked as we climbed into the carriage.

  “Several men attacked him and took Charlotte,” Bess informed us as she kept her hand to Sam’s head.

  “We saw her, and we saw who took her. It was George.”

  Sam pushed Bess’s hand away, his jaw grinding back and forth. Bess placed the cloth back to his head, and when he tried to push her hand away again, she swatted him.

  “Do not make me restrain you, Samuel Mason!” Bess and Sam scowled at one another for a moment.

  “What did I tell you? A shrew,” I humored, and Sam’s lip twitched as Bess tossed me a disdainful scowl.

  “Where could George have taken my sister?” Sam asked.

  “The same place that he has taken mine,” Guinevere said. “To Lucas Marx.”

  CHAPTER 17

  GUINEVERE

  After Sam and Bess were taken to the house, Jack and I set out on foot for George Crawford’s house. If what I said was true and George was taking them to Lucas, his henchman would know about it.

  With the amount of rage that was consuming me, if I found George in his house, I might not be able to contain my actions against him.

  When we reached the house, I led the way to the back door that was unlocked. The kitchen was empty, so I moved past to the second staircase, not waiting for Jack to fall in step beside me.

  Easing open the door at the top of the stairs, I took one tentative step. Pain shot through my body as a hand grabbed my throat and another my arm. My body lurched forward and around the door from Jack.

  He was running up the stairs, but Sturges was shaking and squeezing the life from me. I fought against his arms, tried to reach his face, but he held me away from him and applied enough pressure to make my vision go black for a moment.

  “Sturges! Release my wife at once!”

  Sturges slackened his grip, and I threw my fist into his gut as I stomped on his bare foot with my boot. I tore from his hold, swaying and coughing, but I was not going to allow him the chance to run.

  Grabbing his hair, I brought his head down to face me. “Where is George?” The click of my pistol’s hammer being pulled back made Sturges go still.

  “Ain’t here.”

  “Darling, be a good husband and help me take this miscreant to the kitchen. He and I are going to become better acquainted,” I gritted out.

  Curiosity shone in Jack’s eyes as he forced Sturges’s arms behind his back and guided him down the stairs.

  In the kitchen, I had Jack place him in a chair while I moved to stoke the fire. Pulling a kettle from the spit, I poured the water into three teacups.

  “If he moves, I want you to shoot him,” I said to Jack, handing him my pistol. “Now, I believe you lacked incentive before, so I shall repeat my question. Where is George?”

  Sturges refused to speak, so I did what I knew. I poured the hot water on his lap.

  Jack’s brows shot up like he thought that I had lost control of my mind. It was not so, my mind and I were in perfect agreement. Sturges required a lesson.

  Sturges screeched, leaping up. Jack knocked him back into the chair.

  “Must I repeat myself?” My voice was filled with long-suffering, and irritation.

  “Do yer worst, I ain’t talkin’.”

  “At least we know you can speak more than grumbled words. Jack, do hold him down, for this one will hurt.”

  In a quick movement, I had both remaining cups poured into Sturges’s lap.

  A few drops hit my hand, and I nearly exclaimed at the heat. I could not imagine what Sturges was going through, but the stubborn man refused to speak.

  “Where is George?” I yelled. “Answer me!”

  Sturges broke free of Jack’s hold and jumped up. As he stumbled for the door, I grabbed an iron that I had left near the fire and gave chase.

  Striking his back with the iron, he fell forward, landing on the stairs.

  “Guinevere, enough!” Jack said from behind me.

  Sturges was panting, but grinned as he rolled over on the stairs. “Ye be the sister then. One can hope that the same fate of yer sister comes to ye.” Sturges leaned forward. “An innocent no more. Passed from guard to guard is what she got.”

  Moisture burned my eyes as rage built like a wall, brick by brick. My grip tightened on the iron until it shook with an uncontrollable force in my hand.

  The scream that I heard was far off, but I knew it came from me because of the sting in my throat. My hand was moving, and I felt the strike of the iron against his body, but it was not enough. Neither was kicking his back. With my boot on him, I jerked up his filthy shirt.

  “Guinevere, no!”

  Jack was ignored as the hot end of the iron poker was slammed against Sturges.

  As Sturges shouted, Jack pulled me off of him. Instinctively, I threw my elbow into Jack’s stomach. He released me. Jumping on Sturges with the point of the iron an inch from his eye, I gave him one last chance. “Tell me what I ask! Where is George?”

  Sturges stared at me as if he did not believe I would do it. The iron moved closer to assure him.

  Shoving himself as far into the stair as he could go, he rasped out, “The Pirates House.”

  I held the iron for a moment more, and then released Sturges and walked away.

  Forcing my back straight and refusing to give into tears, I made it to the door. My mind was at war with itself. One part of me was still full of rage, but another more prominent part was appalled at what I had just done. I did not want to be that person who Harvey had created.

  Leaving the Holy Order behind did not mean that I had left the habits behind. Having been a spy for four years, I had dealt such punishments to enemies. It had taken all of my fortitude to do it, and years to recover from the shame.

  When we were out of the house, I threw the iron away from me.

  “How are you, Guinevere?” Jack asked.

  “Ashamed. I knew he lied, but that did not halt me. I am a monster.”

  Jack pulled me against him, and I felt his chest rumble.

  “Are you laughing?” I tried to pull away from him, but he would not allow it.

  “Perhaps, but only because you amaze me. You did as you have been trained, yet you feel immediate remorse. You are far from a monster, my love.”

  His words did not fully remove my pain, but they were a balm.

  “I must admit, for a moment you frightened even me,” he said as we walked toward his mother’s house.

  “I frightened myself. I wanted to hurt him as much as his words hurt me,” I admitted, and it was a first for me. Never before had I admitted that my actions frightened me. They did, but Harvey considered verbal expression of any emotion to be a weakness. “You are making me soft.”

  “Let us hope not too soft, for there is more fight ahead of us, and I will need you,” he said, surprising me. />
  “You do not condemn me?” I asked, but felt foolish as soon as the words passed my lips. Jack was not Harvey, and he was not my sister. Both had spent years scolding me for my actions or lack thereof.

  “It is not my place to condemn you, my love, nor would I when you express remorse. It is my place to love you.”

  The great swell of love within me made me say, “After Charlotte is returned to us, I would like to choose a date to be married.”

  Jack halted abruptly, his mouth open, his expression alarmed. “My love, if this is a jest, I warn you that I am prepared to do something disconcerting.”

  “It is the truth. I want to marry you, Jack.” Sister’s permission or not, marrying Jack was just what I would do.

  With that settled, it was on to the Pirates House.

  CHAPTER 18

  JACK

  The Pirates House was located near the Savannah River, and when we stepped down from the carriage, Hannah told us that it was once a popular den for pirates. Seafaring men still frequented the Inn and tavern, but pirates were not as common.

  Sam and I tried to get the ladies to stay in the carriage, but they would not be deterred from entering the building.

  The tavern was what I expected. There were iron chandeliers, and tables spread around with a candle on each. Two rather buxom women were carrying trays around the room. There were only three tables occupied, and none of them was Charlotte. As Sam went to speak with the barkeep, the rest of us went to an empty table.

  When Sam came to our table, he looked displeased. “The man claims that there is no Mr. Marx or Mr. Crawford staying here and there have been no women of Charlotte’s description here this day.”

  “So, we are either early or the man is a liar. I lean toward the latter,” Hannah said.

  “Let us wait and see,” I said and the others agreed. We ordered drinks and waited.

  “Who are you supposed to be this day?” Hannah was wearing a traveling costume with a large hat and an absurd amount of ostrich plumes.

  “Sonya,” she said with an accent. “Newly arrived from Indiana. It is the nineteenth state to be admitted into the United States you know.”

  When Bess questioned the change in name, we spent time in recounting Hannah’s eccentricities.

  After ten minutes of waiting, a large group of sailors came in, but none of them Lucas.

  “I am going to have a look above stairs,” Sam said and got up.

  As the barkeep and the serving women were occupied with the sailors, he went up unseen. I watched the stairs, ready to spring to action should anyone start up them when the door opened again. Guinevere looked over her shoulder and immediately turned around, ducking her head.

  “He’s here.”

  Hannah glanced toward the door then away in unconcern. She leaned toward Leo, whispering in his ear as Lucas and five of the royal guards moved to a corner table. Lucas had not seen Leo before, and Hannah looked nothing like she did at the Stanton’s party, so all we had to do was keep my face, Guinevere’s, and Bess’s averted and pray that Sam did not come down the stairs before Charlotte and George arrived.

  Leo leaned toward me and whispered for my ear alone. “What do you want us to do?”

  “We should wait until Charlotte arrives.”

  Leo looked me in the eyes. “We may not have another such opportunity.”

  Here we had Lucas with his guards in a tavern room where it should be easy enough for Leo, Sam, Bess, Guinevere, and I to secure them, but what if Charlotte arrived in the midst of a brawl?

  Lucas took the decision out of my hands when an altercation broke out between one of the sailors and one of the guards. Chairs scraped back against the floor and the two men, equal in build, glared at each other. The cause of the altercation was that the sailor accused the guard of spilling ale down his front.

  “Ye did it on purpose, I saw ye. Ain’t that right?” He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder at his fellow sailors, and when he turned back, he was met with a knife to the gut. The guard sneered and said something in Danish. Slowly the translation slipped through my mind, having learned the language as a child.

  It should be sufficient.

  The sailors shock turned into rage, and they lunged for the guards. Pandemonium radiated through the room.

  Leo and I were on our feet, but not moving to help the sailors. We were trying to usher Guinevere, Bess, and Hannah from the room. The door was blocked by the fighting men, so we moved them to the stairs. Sam was just coming down as the girls were being pushed up.

  Leo shouted that we had to get out of there and Sam, looking down at the fighting below, concurred.

  “Down!” Sam shouted and shoved Bess down onto the stairs. A ball from a pistol splintered one of the spindles on the stairs, sending fragments of wood flying.

  Taking in the fight from on top of Hannah and Guinevere, three of the sailors were dead on the floor. Warning bells went off in my head right before one of the guards broke away from the group and ran toward the stairs.

  Jumping up, I leapt for him, punching his face and knocking him down the two steps that he had taken.

  Landing on top of him, I grabbed his neck, slamming his head against the floor until his eyes rolled back in his head.

  Rising, I heard the girls’ shouts. As I whipped around, Guinevere was pressed against the stairs by a guard, Bess was not in sight, and Hannah was a few steps above Guinevere pulling something from her own hat. She threw her hand down, jabbing what looked like a hat pin in the guard’s neck.

  As his body slid down the stairs, I stepped toward them but was caught from behind and jerked around. I heard Guinevere ordering Hannah to go for a constable as a fist was thrown at my face.

  I dodged him, escaping his grasp with a jab to his side. He came at me, throwing both of his fists at my head. As I dodged, he spun.

  A loud crash came from directly behind him, and then another and his head bobbed before he dropped to his knees, shards of glass on his shoulders. Guinevere was standing there with the tops of two broken bottles in her hands.

  Grabbing her wrist, we ran around the bar as Hannah slipped through the door behind the bar.

  Glancing around the room after pushing Guinevere down to sit on the floor, Leo and the only sailor left standing were struggling together against the largest and meanest looking of the guards.

  One man was holding Sam’s hands behind his back while another delivered blows to Sam’s midsection. Through all the fighting, Lucas was standing in the corner with his arms crossed over his chest and a pistol dangling from one hand.

  Was he the one who fired at us? If so, that pistol was empty, but if not he could use it on any one of us. It was improbable that he would use it on Guinevere.

  Sam’s grunts broke into my thoughts, and it became evident what I had to do. Sam required my aid.

  After ordering Guinevere to stay put, I slipped around the bar, staying low and out of range to Lucas. I came up behind the man holding Sam’s hands behind his back and struck hard with the handle of my pistol. He grunted, and I hit him again for good measure. He released Sam and Sam fell into the man who had been pummeling him.

  For someone who had been hit several times, Sam made a good show, hitting his attacker with several hard blows.

  Moving back to the bar and slipping down beside Guinevere, I pulled my second pistol from my belt. The tavern door opened, but I did not believe that Hannah could have returned that quickly.

  Hands grabbed the collar of my coat, and I was lifted off the floor and pulled overtop the bar, my breath puffing out and my pistols slipping from my hands.

  Set on my feet, it was not a constable standing in the room but five more of the royal guards.

  Leo and Sam were both on their knees with four guards standing behind them, holding guns.

  Quickly conceiving and discarding plans in my mind, I realized the only way out was to confront Lucas.

  Lucas was smiling as he walked toward me. “We ha
ve not been formally introduced. I am Valdemar Nichole Augustus Jensen, Duke of Lochelin and member of the high council under his supreme highness, Luther, Lord Protector of—”

  “Liar!” Guinevere jumped up from behind the bar with a pistol in each hand, which she raised and fired.

  To my complete astonishment, neither shot struck Lucas, for two of his guards leapt in the path.

  Sam and Leo got to their feet as Guinevere and I leapt for Lucas. I was pulled back again, but Guinevere got in one good hit before a guard captured her with a knife laid against her throat.

  Lucas ran his sleeve across the lip. There was no blood, but there would be a bruise for my girl knew how to deliver a punch.

  “Unwise, min kærlighed,” he said to her.

  My chest and gut filled with so much rage that my arms began to shake. If he called her love again, I would break him.

  “Hæslig tudse,” Guinevere hissed in return.

  When his eyes hardened, I had a feeling it was a long standing history of her calling him a toad.

  He focused his wrath on me instead. “Jack Martin. Who you are and where you come from is of no import. What is, is that you have been, how you say, foolhardy in getting in my way. Kneel.”

  I made no move to obey. Lucas snapped his fingers, and the man behind me pushed me to my knees. Lucas was still holding his pistol, but he did not aim it at me. He pointed it at Guinevere and the man holding her shoved her forward. She stumbled into Lucas, and his arm went around her waist. He pulled her up and turned her to face me as he put his gun in her hand, his hand remaining over hers.

  “It is fitting, no? To meet your end at your wife’s hand? Then, she is not your wife, not legally.” Lucas laughed. “She did not tell you, did she?”

  “If you mean to tell me she is a temptress you may save your breath, I will never believe a word you say against her.” Charlotte had tried to convince me of that, though where she heard it was what interested me.

  “Ah, but then you know so little about her.”

  My gaze focused on Guinevere, knowing the truth, but needing to reassure her that things would not be as they were the last time we faced Lucas.