Secrets In Savannah (Phantom Knights)

by Amalie Vantana

  One of Frederick’s men cleared his throat then said, “There was also the threats, sir.”

  “So there were. Thank you.” Frederick placed his thumb beneath Charlotte’s chin and tipped it up. “Something about how we were impeding her task and if we did not step aside she would shoot our knees and stab our gullets.”

  “I would have, if that oaf had not stolen my dagger and pistol. Return them and see if I do not make good my threats,” Charlotte spat.

  “Be silent, you insufferable little girl,” Guinevere snapped as she spun around. “Where is George Crawford? I warn you, Frederick, that if you lie I will shoot you where you stand.”

  “George brought this girl here to be escorted back to Charleston,” Frederick said, before adding, “just as you requested.”

  Guinevere’s narrowed eyes were promising retribution and the truth began to connect in my astonished mind. My wife was working with Frederick. To what end was unclear, but that she still had many secrets was. I was a fool to believe that because she married me she would give up her secret alliances and place all of her trust in me.

  She was still playing the role of the white phantom.

  “Then I suggest to you that you follow his order, for the Lord knows it will be the last one he ever issues.” Guinevere turned for the door again.

  “This is all your fault, and if you were deceased none of this would be happening to me,” Charlotte yelled pettishly.

  “That is enough, Charlotte,” I said, and Charlotte lowered her cheek to her dress, brushing away a tear on her shoulder as her hands were tied behind her back.

  “No, let her speak,” Guinevere said to me. “Why is this my fault, Charlotte?”

  Charlotte clamped her lips together.

  “Do not think that I do not know what your real goal is. You want Jack for yourself, and you will do whatever you can to make it so, but you have neglected to factor in a decided hindrance.”

  Instead of being concerned or interested, Charlotte laughed. “That is what you believe? That I want Jack?”

  It is what I had thought, but I would not voice it. She was always following me around in Charleston, before Lucas shot me.

  Guinevere watched Charlotte cautiously. “If that is not your goal, then why—”

  “Why do I detest you? Because you have wronged the man I love,” Charlotte spat.

  Surely not.

  “Lucas?” Guinevere whispered.

  “He loves me, and all that is standing in the way of our happiness is you. He cannot think of marriage when he has been so wronged, but once you are dealt with as you deserve we shall be married.”

  “Frederick,” I said at once, “release her into my care, and I will see that she is on the next boat back to Charleston with her brother and my sister.”

  “I will do just that, Jack, after the Lucas Marx situation is taken care of. We cannot have her running to him and ruining our plans, can we, Guinevere?”

  My wife was emotionless as she watched Charlotte sniff and glare at the men seated around the temple. As Guinevere’s eyes rose to meet Frederick’s, she said, “No, we cannot.”

  It was all part of a plan, buying time until Sam, Bess, and the others broke in and helped us to fight. So I tried to believe, until Guinevere spoke again.

  “You may keep her, Frederick, but you will not harm her, neither will any other man here unless they would like for me to enact Charlotte’s threats, and I can assure you that I never make idle threats.” Guinevere held Frederick’s gaze for a long moment, then nodded and turned toward the door.

  “What is the plan?” I asked as I joined my wife.

  “The girl sorely needs to be taught a lesson, and I assure you that a few more days spent in a cell will scare her into never stepping out of line again,” Guinevere said as she reached for the door.

  “You are not in earnest,” I said as I halted, feeling my blood begin to pump harder. It was ridiculous and unacceptable. Charlotte was an impetuous child who needed a firm hand, which her brother and my sister would give her. To put her in such danger by leaving her in the hands of a group of ruffians was beyond the bounds of what I would allow.

  “Jack, she will come to no harm, I assure you. If we make haste we can halt the others.”

  Guinevere reached out to me, but I backed away from her outstretched hand, fury burning a path through me. Never had I been this angry at her since the day that I discovered that she was the white phantom.

  “Jack, if we let her go she will be a threat. She will not stop until she has gone to Lucas. Look at her, she is not in the least repentant.”

  I did look at her, but what I saw was Char’s vivacious spirit breaking. She did not deserve to be here, and now perhaps Sam would see reason and take a firm hand with her. As much as I loved my wife, she was in the wrong, and I was disappointed in her.

  “Release her, Frederick. At once,” I demanded as I stared at my wife. My own disappointment reflected in my wife’s eyes.

  “She is manipulating you as she does to every man that she meets,” Guinevere said harshly.

  “I never thought you to be heartless,” I whispered, and felt a twist of pain as hurt flashed in her eyes. It was there but a moment before she removed all emotion from her face.

  “No. I deceived myself in believing that you could change, but you cannot. Phantoms first, and nothing else matters.” She walked away from me, and spoke with Frederick. Whatever she said, he nodded to.

  “Cut her binds,” Frederick ordered.

  One of his men moved behind Charlotte, pulling a knife from his belt. He reached down to cut the rope.

  The door behind me swung open, striking the wall in two explosive sounds. One from the door, and the other from a gun. The sound was momentarily deafening, and I heard not a word as the guard behind Charlotte dropped to the floor, Char’s mouth looked as if it was screaming, and Frederick was shouting.

  Sam shoved me out of the way as he ran toward Frederick, but the men from the thrones were on their feet, blocking all paths to Frederick.

  Bess stopped beside me, saying something, but my ears were ringing.

  Leo was engaged in fisticuffs with two men, while Hannah bashed her stick against the men who came close to her. Bess pulled a pistol from her belt, grabbed my hand, and we ran along the edge of the fight. We were pursuing a man who had Charlotte, attempting to drag her toward the door. She fought against his grip, and when she kicked him, he punched her face.

  Sucking in a quick, furious breath, I grabbed Bess’s pistol, aimed it, and fired. As the ball struck him, Charlotte grabbed a pistol from his belt, rose, and fired it, barely missing Leo’s head as the shot struck his opponent.

  Guinevere came up behind Char and plucked the pistol from her hand. She tossed it away, saying something, but Char threw her fist into Guinevere’s stomach.

  “What is Charlotte about?” Bess demanded as Char grabbed a handful of Guinevere’s hair.

  There was not time to explain as Char pulled back her arm, making a fist. When it flew toward my wife’s face, Guinevere grabbed Char’s wrist. The way she twisted Char’s arm behind her back, she could have broken it if she had so chosen.

  When I looked toward my sister, she was gone, as was Frederick.

  Knowing my sister all too well, I ran for the antechamber behind the dais. If Bess thought Frederick a traitor, I knew what she would do, and nothing anyone said would stop her.

  Bess had Frederick cornered in the antechamber, but they were both still alive and well.

  “A traitor is a traitor, Freddy, I care not for your excuses,” Bess was saying.

  “Is that not a little prejudice, Bess, considering that you have welcomed a traitor to sister?”

  “She did not have a choice in whom she served. You did. I should end you right now,” Bess released the hammer on her pistol and lowered it, “but I will not, for two reasons. One, because I am not a murderer, and two, because you now owe me a debt.”

  Frederick’s stif
f shoulders relaxed and an amused smile drifted across his lips. “Indeed?”

  “When I send word that we need you, you will come, and you will fight. If you try to run, I will hunt you down, and you know that I can,” Bess said without heat. It was not a threat but a promise, one that both Frederick and I knew that she could accomplish if she tried. Bess was an accomplished tracker.

  Frederick and I were both smiling as we exchanged an amused glance. It was like we had stepped back a year, and Bess was still the leader of the Phantoms.

  Frederick held out his hand, which Bess shook. “It will be my pleasure to serve with you again, darling Bess.”

  “Do I shoot him now, or will he step away from my wife on his own accord?” Sam asked loudly as he held his gun aimed at Frederick.

  “You must be the great Samuel Mason,” Frederick said as he released Bess’s hand.

  Sam did not lower his gun as he retorted, “And you are the insolent Frederick Nolan.”

  Frederick chortled. “I see that someone has been singing my praises. Bess, darling, was it you?”

  “Enough of the nonsense,” Bess said, stepping between the two. “Tell us what you are doing here, Freddy, and no lies.”

  Frederick laid his hand over his heart. “Would I lie to you, my dear heart?”

  “Yes,” Sam replied before Bess could say a word, “but dead men cannot, rogue, which is what you will be if you touch my wife again.”

  “I will be a rogue?” Frederick asked with an air of innocence. “Bess could not have been the one to tell you of me if you do not know of my reputation.”

  Sam advanced toward Frederick. Bess stepped in his way. “Freddy is not the enemy, Sam.”

  “He could be deceiving us, Bess.” Sam was in the right on that.

  “Why do you think him not the enemy?” I asked, looking first at my sister, then Sam, and finally Guinevere, who was standing just inside the room.

  It was on their faces, in their eyes. They all knew something that I did not, and they were all working together.

  “If you are not the enemy then what are you doing here?” I demanded, and everyone looked to Frederick for his response.

  His lip curled as mischief covered his face. “Being a Phantom.”

  CHAPTER 21

  GUINEVERE

  When Frederick sent his summons to us, he also sent a letter to Bess explaining his situation. He was not a part of the Holy Order as we had thought, but working as a Phantom. He requested Sam and Bess’s aid in ridding his court of some men that Harvey had sent to watch and report on Frederick’s doings.

  After speaking with Bess, she decided it would be best not to tell Jack anything about that. She said that one of us at least should appear natural when we went before the court.

  A worse plan could not have been made. It worked, but the cost to me was nigh unbearable. Bess wanted the court to believe that I was still the white phantom, so I had acted the part ... and Jack believed it.

  “When President Monroe disbanded the Phantoms, I knew Jack would need all of the help that he could acquire in capturing the Holy Order. When Harvey came to me, issuing me this position, I took it,” Frederick explained.

  “The part about being a Phantom, where does it come to play?” Jack asked.

  “I saw a way to draw Harvey in so that we, the true Phantoms, could put an end to him,” Frederick replied, standing taller, and appearing as proud as a rooster.

  Hearing that Harvey was whom I had to thank for Frederick being in Savannah and putting his long nose in things that did not concern him, I could have spit, or thrown something. Instead of accepting me as an ally, Frederick thought to make me his servant by his threats that he masked as bargains. I was no fool; I had been trained by a master in manipulation, and I knew when men were playing games with me.

  Jack was astonished, but not silent. He demanded to know what aid Sam and Bess had rendered Frederick.

  Frederick told him about the letter and that all of us, except Jack apparently, were privy to the plan. “I could not have Harvey’s lackeys running to him with the truth after all.” Frederick watched me with scrutiny. “My personal guards, loyal to me alone, were seated upon the thrones.”

  “Harvey is not a fool, Frederick. He has to know that you are using him, and he is playing you instead. He is a master at chess.” Jack’s voice held fire, and I sighed.

  Hannah and Charlotte came to the door, and Sam, seeing his sister, announced that the rest would be discussed at a later date. When they had left the antechamber, I stepped in Jack’s path.

  “So all of that before was you playacting? You did not mean to leave Charlotte here?” Jack asked without looking at me. His jaw was taut, his face rigid.

  “No matter what she has done or means to do, I would never condemn her to such a fate,” I said as softly as I could. “You truly believed that I could be so callous?”

  Jack did look at me then, but the anger was still in his face. “I do not know what to think when you continue to keep secrets from me. I had thought we were past that when you allowed me to give you my name as well as everything else.”

  His words stung, but they were the truth. I was keeping secrets from him, but it was for him. His life would change, and he would never forgive me if he knew all.

  “What would you have me do?” I pleaded with him, taking his hand. He did not return the pressure of my hand.

  “I would have you be honest.” Jack pulled away, leaving me in the antechamber.

  The wedding bliss had lasted all of thirteen hours. Even the joy of my wedding was overshadowed by Harvey. The man lived to control my life, even from afar.

  “Why so glum?” Frederick asked as he came up beside me. “I thought you would be pleased that I was showing Jack the little minx’s true stripes.”

  Perhaps I would have if it had not put a fresh strain on our relationship.

  We stepped into the throne room to see Jack standing beside Charlotte with his thumb beneath her chin, inspecting her face. The worshipful expression on her face made my stomach sour. Even if it was Lucas that she loved, she was playing my husband like an instrument, and he missed it all.

  “Be wary of that one, my dear,” Frederick said with a faint grin. “She appears as a lamb, but she has the claws of a cat, and the tongue of a serpent.”

  Charlotte’s gaze met mine across the room, and she smirked before feigning a stumble. As Jack caught her in his arms, I knew that she also had my husband on a string, one which I intended to burn.

  òòò

  Jack and I spoke once during the remainder of the day, and that was him asking me if I was ready to tell him everything. When I said I was not, he told me to let him know when I was, and that was that.

  It was maddening that he was outwardly showing disappointment in me when he was the one refusing to see Charlotte’s true character even after her confession.

  When I went up to my chamber for the night, I waited for him to come to me, but he never did. It was past twelve strikes of the clock when I decided that I would not put up with this pettiness. He could be angry at me, but he would not ignore me.

  Rising, I pulled on my dressing gown, then left my chamber to pad across the hall to his. I opened the door and let myself in, but when I reached his bed, he was not there. Leaving his chamber, I made my way down the stairs toward the dining parlor where light was coming from the half open door.

  “Do you still believe that you can trust her?” Sam asked, and I halted in the shadows of the darkened foyer.

  “It was not her fault, and you know that,” Jack’s voice chided. “Though I must confess that the same thought did flash through my mind. Can you trust a woman who would so effortlessly choose others above the man she claims to love? She has made a habit of running. What is to say that she will not do so again when she has what she wants? A woman like that is not to be trusted.”

  The pain that sliced through me made me nearly double over. My hand pressed against the wall was all that wa
s holding me upright. The sound of glass scraping against the table did nothing to lessen the pain. Even if Jack was in his cups, that knowledge could not erase the words from my mind.

  Forcing my back straight, I moved on silent feet back up the stairs and into my chamber. As I sat on my bed, I fought against the burning in my nose and eyes. I would not cry; I would not!

  Perhaps it was for the best. I had always done better on my own. When you were accountable to yourself alone, no one else could be disappointed when you failed. Harvey believed that I was accountable to him, but he was wrong. My loyalty belonged elsewhere. My reasons for fighting were never the Holy Order.

  I made my own rules, accepted my successes and spurned my failures.

  If Lucas saw that Jack and I were at daggers with one another, he might focus all of his attention on me and forget about Jack. It was a small glimmer of hope, but hope it was, and the Lord knew that I had little enough of it in my life.

  Lucas needed to be dealt with, and as a plan formed in my mind, I knew that there was only one person I could trust to help me see it through.

  òòò

  My husband and the rest of the house were still asleep when I rose before the sun. It was nearly six as I pulled on a pair of breeches, one of Jack’s shirts, and tucked my natural hair into a cap. After pulling on my boots, tucking a knife into each boot, and loading my pistols, I crossed the chamber and eased open the door.

  Going down the hall to the last door on the left, I knocked softly. When the door opened, a disheveled Leo stood before me. Having seen him thus a score of times, I was not in the least embarrassed. I pushed him out of the way and walked into his chamber, closing the door behind me.

  “Get dressed, I need you to come with me,” I demanded, picking up his shirt and tossing it to him.

  “Have you run mad, milady? Did anyone see you come in here?” There was an exasperated tone to his voice that was not natural for him. He was usually so calm. I supposed that forcing my way into his chamber had something to do with that.