The fourth member of Samuel’s team was Betsy’s older brother Abraham. He lived and worked with Samuel, and I had spoken only a few words to him, but I found him both kind and intelligent. From the little I had heard from both Rose and Betsy, Abraham had earned the name Phoenix, rising from the ashes of his battered past to create a new life for himself and his sister.
As I settled into my new surroundings I soon became accustomed to their way of life. During the day, Rose, Charlotte, or Betsy would alternate between patrolling the marketplace in the guise of shopping, or watching the different ships that sailed in and out of port, searching for smugglers, or particular foreign immigrants. They did not go on missions like my team had in Philadelphia, and I learned that other than some brief self defense, they had never truly been trained.
As Charlotte and I entered the parlor, Rose was seated at an escritoire. She smiled at me, but went back to the letter she was writing. Mrs. Beaumont, who had come with me to Charleston, was there to take my bonnet, gloves, and riding whip from me. She appeared to be a frail woman, but it was not so. She carried a full arsenal of attack words if one threatened any person in her charge. She cast her eyes over me and sniffed in disfavor. I smiled at her.
“I should tell Sam about your new acquaintance, Bess, just to see him squirm with jealousy,” Char, as everyone called her, said to me in a conspiratorial voice.
“Do not be vulgar, Charlotte,” Rose said without looking up.
“Your brother thinks no more of me than I do of him, Char,” I assured her.
Charlotte released a peal of laughter. “Oh does he not? He has only spoken of you for the last seven months.”
There was a twisting in my stomach as I stared at Charlotte. No duplicity was in her tone. She was speaking the truth. I felt as if someone had dropped the floor from beneath me. What could Samuel Mason possibly have to say about me? Surely he did not tell them how we met.
“Raven is so brave, Raven is so intelligent, Raven has unmatched beauty of both spirit and face, Raven can make grown men burst into tears.”
“Now you are being ridiculous,” I told her.
She laughed again leaning against the arm of the sofa. “It is true, is it not, Rose?”
Rose set her quill down and looked over her shoulder; her head held high and her slender neck like polished ivory. I was secretly envious of her quiet, commanding presence. She was known as Sphinx by the Phantoms, but I had yet to discover why.
“He certainly spoke of you when he first returned from Philadelphia, but I do not remember him saying anything about men’s tears.”
“I wish he would fall in love with you, Bess,” Charlotte admitted, and heat rushed into my face, but Char had turned her attention to Rose. “Did you see the way Miss White was hanging upon Sam last evening, Rose? I believe she is his new inamorata.” Charlotte said, disgusted.
“Charlotte Mason! We do not speak of such things,” Rose chastised her, but they had piqued my interest.
Charlotte raised her innocent looking blue eyes to Rose. “Why not? Men have no qualms about speaking such things before us, though it makes no matter. She will not hold his attention for long,” Charlotte glanced at me, “if the way he kept staring at the door in expectation of someone to arrive is any indication.”
I knew that Charlotte was trying to tell me something with her eyes, but Rose had drawn her attention away before I was forced to make a reply.
“Miss White may be an heiress and a beautiful woman, but give your brother some credit for common sense and leave it at that.” Rose nodded, closing the subject.
“Thank you for that vote of confidence, Rose,” a deep voice said from the foyer, and we all turned to stare at Samuel, who was standing with Levi on the threshold. I wondered how much he had heard. “And you, you little termagant,” he said to Charlotte, but his words held only mild disapproval, “need to learn to mind both your manners and your tongue. Some things do not concern you.”
Char rose to her feet. “If you mean to marry that woman, it does concern me. Though I do not know why you would want to, when Bess—”
“Levi, I need to speak with you,” I said hastily. “Pray, accompany me into the foyer for a moment.” I rose and walked toward him. I did not meet Samuel’s gaze as I left the room, though I could feel his upon me. I half dragged Levi into the foyer.
When we were in the dining parlor, I released him. “Levi, whatever you do, do not tell them about Andrew.” I halted, staring at him. “Unless you have—”
“Of course I have not,” Levi retorted. He laid a hand on my shoulder. “You may have been sent to join this team, but I have not. You have an ally in me, never fear.” I thanked him then left him, to run up the stairs to my chamber.
Asking Levi to keep my secret was not because I was ashamed and embarrassed, though I was; it was because I did not want to put a strain on the new friendships I was forming. Even though Rose and Charlotte were Phantoms, they were also women of society, and they had been trained to look askance at situations such as mine.
After running a brush through my hair, I pinned it up into a knot at the back of my head. Removing my riding coat, I smoothed a hand over my ivory dress. There was mud on the hem, but I did not have time for a change of raiment. Expelling a long sigh, I left my chamber, forcefully telling myself it did not matter what I looked like. I was not trying to impress anyone.
When I reached the parlor, I heard Samuel say, “Miss Martin will be overseeing your training beginning on the morrow.”
Charlotte clapped and said something, but my attention was on Samuel standing near the fireplace. He looked at me, and his gray eyes traveled the length of me in an appraising, yet inappropriately intimate caress. He met my furious look with one of calm superiority. He knew I could not refuse; he had the upper hand. Atrocious man!
There was a lull in the conversation as I glared at Samuel, and he stared back unabashedly. Charlotte filled the void.
“Who was that handsome specimen of manliness that escorted you home, Bess?”
I felt as if hot coals were beneath my skin, burning my cheeks as my gaze slid to Charlotte, who was smiling triumphantly, then to Samuel who was appeared curious. No doubt he was expecting Abe to be the only man out riding with me.
“His name was Lucas Marx, and he is a sea captain only in Charleston for a few weeks,” I told the room at large.
Mrs. Beaumont sniffed again from where she was pouring out tea into cups. She never had approved of my riding without Jack or Leo with me when we lived in Philadelphia, even when I was dressed as a man.
“Where did you meet this,” Samuel looked close to sneering, “Lucas Marx?”
With my head held high, I advanced into the room and stood behind the chair nearest the fire, closer to Samuel, but I wanted him to see that I was not intimidated by him. “In a meadow,” I replied with perfect composure.
If ladies were not present, I was sure Samuel Mason would have cursed. I had lived with men long enough to know the signs. “A meadow? How...quaint. Might one inquire what you were doing with him in said meadow?”
Fighting down my anger at what his words were implying I forced my most brilliant smile as I said, “Racing.”
“Who won?” Levi asked.
Char slapped his arm playfully, then held her finger to her lips and shushed him. Levi rubbed his offended arm but was grinning. Even Rose was smiling, as she watched Sam and me. It was as if they were all waiting for us to pull out sabers and begin fighting in the middle of the parlor.
“Did you win?” Samuel asked after a long moment. One of his eyebrows was raised as he awaited my response.
“I could have,” I said, “but I could not bring myself to crush him, for it has been my experience that men have such fragile spirits when outshone by a woman.”
Samuel took a step forward, his mesmerizing eyes only on me. “Could you win in a race against me?”
“That would depend,” I said with a note of mischief.
&nb
sp; He took another step toward me. My heart was beating frenetically in my chest, but I would not back down.
“Depend upon what?”
“If I were breathing or not, Mr. Mason.”
Levi barked out a laugh, and I could not refrain from grinning. I knew what was coming, Levi knew what was coming, every person in the room surely knew what was coming, but only Levi and I knew of my skill.
“Would you care to pit your skill against mine, Miss Martin, or are words all you are capable of?”
He was pushing the limit of what I would tolerate, and the man knew it. I could see it in his eyes. He wanted to see how far he could push me before I would lose my temper and retaliate.
“You of all people should know that I am capable of far more than mere words, Mr. Mason.” His eyes narrowed, and I knew we were thinking of the same thing. That day seven months ago in George’s bedchamber. I should not have brought his attention to it, but if Char was correct, and he had been speaking of me then he was aware of what I was capable of, even sounded to admire my skill.
“Just so. Tomorrow, when you train my team,” he smiled, “we shall show them what true skill upon a horse looks like.”
“What do I receive when I win?” I asked.
“Anything you desire.” He said it and smiled as if he expected me to say I desired him.
“I want all of the information you have about the Holy Order. I want your promise that you will not leave me out of any of your dealings with them.” I would win that race. I would capture the Holy Order, and then I would go home.
“Fair enough,” Samuel said with a nod, “but when I win, I want an artifact.” I must have looked startled, for he added, “I know that you have a few of them, but all that I ask is for one.”
It was unnecessary of me to ask how he knew. His uncle would have written to him about that. All that I knew about the artifacts was that the Holy Order and Guinevere wanted them, and that was enough to make me want to protect them at all cost.
“You have a bargain, Mr. Mason,” I turned toward the door, pausing only to look over my shoulder and say, “but do give it your best, for I would hate to see a grown man cry when he loses by many lengths.” I went out of the room with Charlotte’s laughter following me all the way.
Chapter 5
Bess
Abraham arrived early with a carriage to take us to Sam’s plantation. During the ride, I learned from Charlotte all about her brother’s business and holdings. Sam, as I was coming to think of him but never call him, had bought his uncle’s plantation when George moved to Philadelphia. In the city, he owned two large warehouses for import and export of goods from his six ships. He owned a haberdashery, pastry shop, mercantile, and a lending library. He also hosted an annual boat race, the course running all the way to Savannah and back, that according to Char was the social event beyond all others. Sam hosted a party before the race, he was the marshal of the race, and then hosted a grand ball the night after the race to close the festivities.
She also told me why she did not live with her brother. He wanted her to learn refinement without having to send her to a seminary, so it was believed amongst society that Rose was their cousin and Char’s chaperone.
The plantation was an hour’s drive outside the bustle of the city. When the carriage turned down a long tree lined drive, I leaned forward on my seat to gain a better view out the window. The lane ran for a long time, but through the trees, I could see men out in the field.
“Are they his slaves?” I asked. A stone the size of my fist was settling in my stomach. I loathed slavery. My mother called me an advocate of freedom for all men, and I suppose it was apt. I certainly fought against injustice when I saw it. If Samuel Mason owned slaves, then that was another mark against him. His haughtiness, his roguish behavior, his high-handed dealings with anyone he thought beneath him were enough to garner my ill opinion of him, but owning slaves would have set off an entirely new dislike of the man.
“Sam owns no slaves,” Betsy said softly. I turned to look across the carriage where she was seated. She held my gaze, her brown eyes hard with a look that assured me she was not a timid girl, but a protector of those she thought unjustly treated. “When he bought the plantation from Mr. Crawford, he began manumission, which is nigh impossible to achieve. For four years, he worked to have all of his slaves freed.”
Rose picked up the thread where Betsy left off. “Before 1800, to achieve manumission only the master’s consent and a certificate of freedom were required, but with more masters freeing men who caused them trouble, or men of infirmity, legislature changed the laws.”
Betsy stared out the window but spoke. “Sam had to swear to our characters before a magistrate and five freeholders. He worked on having the families freed first, then the men.” Betsy clenched her hands into fists, breathing in a long breath. “Everyone you see chose to stay.”
“Stay?” I asked.
Rose was the one to speak up. “We live in a land where slavery is a livelihood. Many of the landowners are angry at Sam. They said he would be the cause of revolt, creating jealousy and discontent amongst the slaves.”
Charlotte leaned forward, her eyes wide with what looked like fear. “Our barn has been burned, five of the freedmen have disappeared, two of the women have been attacked, one was...” she stopped, shaking her head.
The stone in my stomach moved to my heart. She did not need to go on. The look on all three women’s faces told me what had happened to that woman. Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them away.
“Sam found work for many of the freedmen in Northern states where it will be safer for them than here,” Rose said.
“It was recommended that we all leave the state, but there are those of us who are loyal to the Crawford and Mason family and would not leave,” Betsy said firmly.
My chest constricted feeling like someone had tied a corset around it. I could not breathe. I felt a complete wretch for my ill thoughts about the man. I wanted to cry, for Betsy and Abraham, who had surely seen and lived through unspeakable happenings, for Sam and his overwhelming generosity, but mostly for myself and the callous woman I had become. But, I was not a tear-filled watering pot.
The house came into view, and I expelled a long breath. It was...heavenly. A large, brick house sat on a sprawling lawn with a circular drive before it. I caught a glimpse of a garden around the back of the house. To the north of the house where the trees met the lawn were several small square cabins. Children ran between the cabins while women worked at different chores, washing laundry, churning butter, beating rugs. It was all truly picturesque. My family’s plantation house in Savannah was a quarter this size with less than half the amount of workers.
Sam stood on the large porch between two columns, laughing at something Levi said. Seeing him laugh awoke flutters inside me that I quickly squashed. I hated those flutters. They reminded me of Andrew and what I no longer had. Because of the Holy Order.
As Sam stepped down the wide, white stairs, I tried not to stare at him, but it was impossible to look elsewhere. He demanded attention no matter what he did. His thick curls blew in the breeze as he came toward the carriage.
Char was the first to hop down, dressed in brown breeches that were too large for her. We had rolled up the hem several times and secured them with a belt. The large white shirt she wore flapped as she greeted her brother then ran to Levi’s side. Betsy climbed down after Char and Rose started to follow, but I halted her.
“Is Mr. Mason in danger?”
Rose sat back down, her look pained. “No, for as crude as it is money speaks.”
That was certainly true, for it happened to my family when we acquired a fortune last year. People flocked to us, courted us for our money. What worried me the most was Betsy and Abe being captured. If they were every captured while harming a white man there would be no trial. But, only Sam could allay my fears.
Climbing down from the carriage, Sam approached me, his eyes ran over my work clo
thing and he smiled.
“Seeing you like this brings back the memory of our first meeting, Miss Martin,” Sam said.
“A memory you would do well to forget, Mr. Mason,” I retorted.
With the sun on his face, I noticed how tan he was, like me, not the soft ivory that Andrew had been, and it suited Sam somehow, made him appear more like my idea of a plantation owner. “This is a rather conspicuous spot to train the team, do not you think? Will not your workers be alarmed and suspicious of your sister and her friends dressed as men?”
“Everyone believes that I am training my sister and her friends for the games that my family hosts during the annual boat race, and my sister’s antics are well known in Charleston.”
Before I could speak to Sam about Abe and Betsy, Levi was pulling me away, saying, “Sam has everything set how you will like. Come, I will show you.” Levi led the way around the house with Charlotte bouncing at his side as she laughed and talked with him. It was a good change to see Levi not as serious as he had been in Philadelphia.
Beyond a large barn and a row of trees, there was a table with bows, arrows, knives, a pair of swords, and a few pistols. Four targets were set up further away with a large dot painted on the centers of the canvas. It was out of view of the house and the workers, giving us some privacy.
“What shall we do first?” Charlotte asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“Safety. Always safety.” I picked up a knife, and once they were all gathered, I showed them first how to hold a knife. I explained the different blades, and then told them each to pick up a knife. “Watch my stance.” My legs were apart and firmly planted. I breathed in and out slowly as my eyes took in the target ahead. I focused on the center, and gripping the handle, I raised the knife. Breathe in. Breathe out. With a strong flick of my wrist, I sent the knife flying straight into the center.
After explaining the wrist action, I stepped away as they each took a turn throwing a knife. Betsy’s hit the target but bounced off; Charlotte’s did not even come close, but Rose’s sailed straight to the center. I watched her for a long moment but said nothing.
The Charleston Chase (Phantom Knights Book 2) Page 4
